Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For as long as she had been in the house, and even before the house was built, Sakura had been the eyes and ears, often the most levelheaded of its residents. That was her self-appointed job, having been there the longest. She was the matriarch, of sorts, as she used to be in her family. Close to nothing happened on the property that she did not know about.

So she watched when the more recent realtor swept through, rapidly talking to someone about the two new livings who were going to move in. Sakura assumed that it would be for a short time. For one reason or another, nobody stayed in the house long. And if anyone did, it turned out to be for longer than one could imagine. Such as herself.

Eight faces stared at her, piled on top of the mismatched couch and surrounding chairs in the first of a handful of living spaces. As per most house meetings, Sakura was the one to call it. House meetings were called every time new livings moved in.

Clearly, most of the others were less than enthused to be called for that reason yet again.

“You should all be on your best behavior,” Sakura warned them wearily, the statement directed at certain individuals more than others. As to be expected, the energy of the room ranged from anxiety to some degree of excitement or boredom. The same rules were repeated every time, and so far none were broken in a horrible way. Nobody ever discovered their existence unless they, too, became ghosts. “Do not touch any of their belongings. Do not make them think there is anything wrong with the house. They will end up leaving of their own account, and the house will be ours again.”

“Might be nice to finally have others around to watch, though,” Sayaka sighed, leaning against the right armrest of the couch and adjusting her short skirt as she did so. Her gaze shifted almost uneasily to Chihiro before darting back to her lap guiltily.

Chihiro must have felt her eyes on him, as he shifted almost uncomfortably. The lights in the room flickered, though the real estate agent turned them off before leaving. “Will they really leave so quickly?”

“C’mon, the house is a magnet for this stuff, you know the drill,” Mondo reminded him, his large biker jacket taking up more space on the couch than was really fair to the others. That was often a cause of the more petty arguments. “We don’t need to lift a finger.”

As much as Sakura was loathe to admit it, that was true. What was once her family home, the house that replaced the dojo she hoped to live on beyond her, had fallen under scrutiny for decades, even a few centuries. It attracted unwanted attention at every turn. Police and detectives crawled through the place too many times to count, but still the house was left standing by some force of will. Truth be told, Sakura almost relied on the coming-and-going livings to keep the house from being torn down or left to ruin.

“Kiyotaka, keep an eye on whoever wanders upstairs. I will watch down here.” She turned her back to them all, towards the window. A single car pulled through the long driveway, stopping short of the entrance. Good timing on her part. She was sure Celeste would approve. “I suggest you all stay as out of the way as possible.”

Without needing to watch, she knew Kiyotaka nodded stiffly at her assignment as the others stood and wandered off to their own corners of the house. With so many inhabitants of the house, the ghosts usually kept to themselves, hardly ever fully congregating. It made for a somewhat lonely existence if individual friendships did not form. The livings got out of their car, gazing up at the house with great intrigue.

They seemed young. Given their resemblance, likely related. Full of life.

Somehow, Sakura got the feeling that things would not go smoothly for those two. When it came to the house, they hardly ever did.

The house, in retrospect, was probably a bit big for only two people. Which Makoto brought up when she showed him the listing a month or so ago. Twelve bedrooms? It was honestly a big ridiculous, he’d reasoned, and they should leave the house for someone who had a family big enough to fill it. They could find a smaller house or apartment or something.

But, Komaru argued then, the listing had been available for longer than she would’ve expected, and it was a lot cheaper than what rent would add up to be at any apartment. Plus, it was close to their new jobs in the nearby town, and the longer they kept looking, the longer they wouldn’t be working. As she expected, he gave in after mulling it over.

Staring up at the house with some of her and Makoto’s moving boxes piled outside the door made it seem much more massive than she ever thought before. She would never say it, but maybe Makoto’s original point had some validity.

“Yes, Mom, we’re fine on our own,” she heard Makoto say into his phone a few meters to her left. She didn’t hear his phone ring—it must’ve as they were getting out of the car—but she was expecting their mom to check in on them as soon as possible, now that they were no longer a couple blocks away. Throwing her brother a knowing look, she left him alone, adjusting her backpack and picking up one of the boxes labeled as hers.

As mentioned in the listing, the house was nearly fully furnished already, something she didn’t give much thought to before. Definitely a blessing, one she took note of more and more as she took her shoes off and set the box by the staircase. All of the rooms she could see into from the entryway had furniture in them already, a mix-and-match of clearly older and somewhat newer styles. It had a certain charm to it.

Also according to the listing, the house hadn’t been lived in for at least two years. Apart from the dust, she wouldn’t have been able to tell. Everything seemed to be working alright so far. Even the grass looked like it was freshly cut.

Komaru glanced out the door at Makoto, still on the phone and clearly trying to find a way off, before looking up the stairs. She should take the best of the bedrooms before Makoto got to it.

Sibling rivalries and all that.

Avoiding the handrail, coated in a thick layer of dust, she focused on the creaks of the stairs as she ascended. For a house as old as this one claimed to be, it didn’t seem as traditionally put together as she expected. It appeared almost Western in style, like what she envisioned a European mansion would look like. Very few decorations hung on the walls on her way up, though she could see spots on the old wallpaper that were less faded than others, where she was sure paintings had once been. Maybe there were still some in storage somewhere she could rehang. Give the house more character than it already had.

The upstairs had the same not-lived-in feeling she had from the floor below, down to the musty smell of unwashed sheets and dust. Komaru poked her head into each of the bedrooms, trying to get a feel for which she should claim as her own. There were a lot of factors she had to take into account, like the best view and most space.

Much to her surprise, though, those factors went out the window. She got quite the strong feeling from most of the bedrooms to leave them alone.

Of all the rooms that gave her the same feeling, there was one she was compelled to linger in for more than a moment. The decorations were what caught her eye; they were more modern than the others. The same faded wallpaper was still there, but there were different, lighter curtains and a green comforter that she remembered seeing in advertisements only a handful of years ago. Even though that alone made the room feel more inviting than the others, she decided she should pick a different one.

It took looking at nine of the twelve bedrooms before the tenth didn’t give her any particular negative feeling. Komaru always prided herself on her gut feelings, so she trusted what information she was given from the atmosphere.

Besides, it seemed like one of the best choices. It was at the far end of the hall from the stairs, had its own bathroom, and she was pretty sure it would get the most light in the mornings.

She shrugged off her backpack, setting it next to the bed as she more fully took in the details of the room. It was bigger than any of the bedrooms she ever had, giving her more space for decorations or whatever she wanted. It would’ve been perfect to have sleepovers in if she were still in high school, able to host all of her friends. Well, her two friends.

Actually, it was a good thing she chose that room. She noticed moments after claiming it that the dressed she sent over from her apartment was nestled against one of the walls.

Dusting off her hands, she gave the room a single nod before exiting. Neither she nor Makoto was really strong, but she could still carry more weight than him on her good days, so it was up to her to bring more of their boxes inside. That was her job, while Makoto did more of the unpacking.

“Expect Mom to call you before the end of the day,” Makoto told her with a weary smile, passing by her as she went outside to bring in more of the boxes.

“I’m surprised she didn’t call me as soon as she hung up with you.” Komaru loved her mom, she really did, but from time to time she could be a little overbearing. But she’d loved before, first to university and then to her old apartment. She kind of had the whole moving process down. She lifted one of the boxes, calling back over her shoulder. “And Hina’s coming later, right? Do you know when?”

Makoto shrugged, dragging some of the boxes further inside to make room for the rest. “In a few hours at least. She said she’d come by after she’s done coaching.”

Komaru nodded to herself and adjusted her grip on a box before depositing it in the hall with the others. She kept forgetting that Hina was a teacher, and coached different teams over the summer, too. “Jeez, it still feels like we just graduated high school.”

“I know, but we’ve been part of the adult world for a while.” It still didn’t feel quite real to her, though. Living in the same town again with one of her best friends made her feel like she was back in middle school.

If middle schoolers had to work and earn a living, that was.

She brought a few more boxes in, humming something to herself to make the time pass faster. Her portable speaker was packed away in one of the boxes, or else she would’ve already dragged it out and hooked it up to her phone. Before she could finish three songs, everything they brought was inside; the two of them didn’t have much to transfer from their small apartments. “Did you see the gazebo out back?” she heard Makoto call from further in the house. “Might need a new coat of paint or something, but it looks like it’d be nice to relax in.”

“Oh, cool!” As much as she wanted to jump on that right away, though, she had to unpack.

All of the boxes.

If only moving were as easy as she remembered it.

So far, so good.

Sakura kept close to her word, keeping an eye out for anyone on the first floor and doing her best to ensure they would not compromise the situation with the livings. It was difficult to track the other eight ghosts plus the two livings at the same time. Hearing their sporadic conversation told her that the livings had no ill intentions for the house—so far.

“I don’t like this,” Celeste lilted from the same space everyone had been gathered in earlier. She stood near the window, tracing her fingers over the small designs of the curtains; additions from when the house belonged to her. They matched the designs stitched into her ornate European-style dress. A moment passed. Celeste dropped her hand in disgust. “I do not want to share the house with those … ruffians. Especially not my gazebo.”

Sakura stifled a sigh, otherwise ignoring Celeste. The livings already were proving to be far less annoying than some of the others had been. Some groups of fresh-out-of-college fraternity boys across the decades came to mind. Sakura had been forced to share the house with more people than Celeste, so she would know. She watched people come and go and, in the cases of the other eight, occasionally stay for eternity.

She noted the patterns through the years. Some of the residents were nice, others not, but the story almost always ended the same.

As she moved the labeled boxes close enough to their respective rooms, Komaru made the executive decision—or rather, her aching muscles did—that most of the boxes would be unpacked tomorrow. She was already wiped from all that moving, bringing some of the boxes up those creaky stairs.

She would much rather focus on setting up her own room. And thanks to her dresser already being there, she didn’t even have that much to do.

Digging out her speaker from her backpack, she put on her favorite playlist and danced around the room. She opened her dresser drawers, marveling at the pale turquoise against the yellowed wallpaper. Kind of cute in an odd way, actually. Maybe she’d avoid painting the walls for a while.

Twirling around, she hummed along to the upbeat song that began playing. Her folded clothes were tossed almost unceremoniously into her drawers. She paused for a moment when the song hit the first chorus; she could’ve sworn she heard different harmonies than she usually did. Then again, given how loud her speaker was, it was probably just Makoto singing along in some other part of the house. Sound probably carried.

“Sayaka! The woman can hear you!” Kiyotaka all but shouted into the next room over as he passed, making rounds of the hallway.

Sayaka shut her mouth quickly. If ghosts could blush in embarrassment, she likely would. Instead, she settled for tugging on the sleeves of the oversized gray sweatshirt she was swimming in. “Sorry, I forgot,” she muttered, sinking further into the bed she claimed as hers. It was the one she would’ve wanted to live in, she said before, since she admired the pale pink sheets on the bed.

Kiyotaka regarded her quickly before nodding at her sternly and moving on. He did hope that wouldn’t be a repeat mistake.

Komaru kept dancing along to the music, the extra harmony dropping off. She probably just imagined it, anyway.

“Where’s the kitchen stuff?” she heard Makoto shout up to her. His voice sounded a lot closer than she was sure it was; sound did carry.

“It’s in the box that says ‘kitchen’ on it!” She rolled her eyes to herself with a smile, already finishing up with her clothes and pushing the empty boxes towards the door. There were a few more boxes for her room and the bathroom, including sheets that weren’t dusty and a pillow that wasn’t flat, but she was already bored of unpacking. Instead, she took out one of the small succulents she had in one of the boxes and placed it on the windowsill. She had a few of them for around the house, but it’d be nice to have more. Maybe she would get some extra plants to spruce up the other bedrooms, too. Just because they weren’t being used didn’t mean they didn’t deserve attention.

She disconnected her speaker, leaving it in her room as she left. She took note of the flickering lights in the hallway as she passed the bedroom with the green comforter. That would be a quick fix with a new bulb or two.

Kiyotaka gave Chihiro a stern look as he passed the boy’s doorway. Chihiro took a deep breath and closed his eyes, the lights once more shining steady. He peeked one eye open to be sure he was relaxed and gave Kiyotaka a small smile. Kiyotaka nodded in approval, moving on. So young, and so newly dead, he couldn’t yet fault Chihiro for the unwitting use of his power.

The lights seemed to fix themselves within a few seconds. Probably an issue she could table for later, but buying some new bulbs anyway couldn’t hurt, given how many lights were in the house. They were sure to blow some time or other.

The stairs creaked again as she went downstairs, finding Makoto in the kitchen as she thought she would. She didn’t see the kitchen herself before—well, she didn’t see any of the house before deciding she wanted to live there, but that was beside the point. It seemed a bit outdated at first, but upon a closer look, it would probably be fully functional. “Need help with anything in here?”

Makoto looked at the few half-full boxes around him. Again, it wasn’t like they had much to bring. “I don’t think so, but we’re going to have to run out for groceries tomorrow. I figure takeout’s good for tonight, I saw a few places on the drive in.”

Oh, right. She hated grocery shopping. As she watched Makoto unpack, she leaned against the counter, the smooth countertops a stark difference from the dry wallpaper and wood of most of the house. Must’ve been a recent addition. “Well, what’s left that I should unpack in the meantime?”

“Anything. It’d be cruddy to have to wake up and unpack more boxes to find what we need.” Makoto toed aside a few boxes until he found the coffeemaker, thankfully all in one piece. Another bit of digging brought out a sealed container of coffee grounds. “We still have plenty for tomorrow, though.”

Good. She could go either way with tea or coffee, but she preferred coffee when she had any kind of work to do. She could practically smell it already.

“It’s been ages since I’ve had a good cup of coffee,” Hifumi complained, putting his hand through the empty coffee pot a few times, trying and failing to grasp it.

“Leave them alone,” Sakura reminded him half-sternly. The two livings moved through the kitchen; she sidestepped expertly when they nearly collided with her. “You will be able to smell their coffee tomorrow. That will have to be enough.”

Hifumi wilted, but nodded in understanding. He took a step away from the coffeemaker. “At least they like coffee at all, I suppose. Tea’s alright, but it’s not nearly as good.”

Sakura begged to differ. The one time she had tried coffee, from the first batch of trade, it was horribly bitter. She watched Hifumi for another handful of seconds before leaving the kitchen. He never made a habit of bothering the livings; he would not start now.

Five minutes was all it took for Komaru to grow bored in the kitchen. If she was just going to be standing around, she might as well drag her boxes of books to the library. Which, unsurprisingly, took her a little looking around to find. There were some corners she forgot to turn, a door or two she didn’t check. She should draw herself a map of the house.

The library was just as dusty as the rest of the house. Even so, she marveled at how many books lined the wall-to-wall shelves. Komaru was usually more of a manga person herself, her collection making up three-quarters of the books she brought, but she would have to take a day or two to look at what was already there. That was one of the perks of moving in on a Friday: she had the whole weekend before she had to go in for work.

Along with all of those books were a few cushy chairs, some desks also covered in misplaced books, even one of those slidey-ladder things to reach the top shelves. Plus, tons of natural light spilled in the windows, which would be beautiful if it didn’t allow her to see the dust floating in the air.

She paced around the room, looking at every nook and cranny. Actually, she wouldn’t be surprised if there was a secret passageway somewhere; the house was definitely old enough to have them. Wasn’t that how it worked? She would look later.

“Now where should you go?” she mused, looking at the boxes of books. Given the pure amount of books on the shelves, there weren’t many open spaces big enough for her collection. If she moved some things around, there would probably be enough room, but she wasn’t sure if that would unleash some kind of ancient curse on her or something. That would be quite the way to start the rest of her life.

A couple minutes of looking brought her to a space in the middle of one of the higher bookshelves built into the wall. She’d have to use the ladder to get to it, but it all seemed stable enough. The bookshelf itself would’ve collapsed under the weight of the books long ago if it wasn’t. Her manga could go up first, something that would stand out against the more faded spines. She did prefer the brighter colors and fun titles.

Makoto poked his head into the room just as she started testing the ladder’s strength with her first few books in her hands. “I’m running out to get takeout and pick up Hina,” he said, looking up at her. She was already taller than him, but she couldn’t help but smirk as the ladder gave her some extra height. “Are you gonna be alright here?”

“Yeah, of course.” She waved him off, momentarily losing her balance before regaining it a second later. Clearly that didn’t do much to stave off his worry. “I’ll be right here when you get back!”

Makoto studied her for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I’ll be back soon.”

She heard him close the front door and drive off, all as she was shuttling up her books. The silence of the house apart from her own movements was odd. She had neighbors, but they weren’t super close by, and the town was about a five minute drive away. Kind of secluded, but still close enough that she didn’t feel alone.

Actually, she hadn’t felt alone since entering the house, even in the few minutes when she was the only one in it.

She wasn’t sure if that was a bad feeling.

“Someone’s quiet today,” Leon quipped as he eyed Mukuro, seated on the chaise in the library. She ignored him, like she had for the last several years, instead keeping her eyes on the living girl. Leon rolled his eyes, not bothering to carry on much of a conversation with her. It wasn’t like she ever responded to him anyway.

Instead, he took to the globe by the bookshelf in the wall. Surely the girl wouldn’t notice if he spun it around a few times, concentrating deeply on touching it. He still found it too bad that it was on an axis, as it had been for decades. Otherwise, he would be able to improve his power more and play around with it. Still thought it was a bit of a crappy power to have, since there was nobody else who could do anything with balls with him, like play catch or something.

Something. He didn’t care what anymore, just something.

He side-eyed Mukuro again after the globe stopped moving. Once more, he took note of the same black t-shirt and camouflage cargo pants, the only things she’d been able to wear for years. Apparently she could be talkative with some of the others, but she hardly said five words to him in all the time she’d been there. Kind of rude, if anyone ever bothered to ask him.

So he turned his attention to the living girl. Been a while since anyone had moved into the house, let alone without kids and, to his limited knowledge, unmarried. Not that he could do much about the latter anymore. Maybe if he was still alive…

Still, he hoped she or the other one would be interesting enough to watch for however long it was until they were inevitably driven out.

Not even bothering to sigh, he went back to manipulating the globe.

In between her second and third pile of books, Komaru turned on her music again, though without her speaker. Humming along gave her actions a sense of rhythm though she couldn’t exactly dance while working. Even though she loved music so much, she could never settle on a favorite artist. She and her brother were alike in that they mostly just listened to whatever was on the radio at any given time, adding things they liked to their separate playlists. It made for a wide range of music.

Before she knew it, one full box of books was on the shelf with plenty of space to go. She would’ve taken a step back to admire her work, but given that she was on a moving ladder, that wasn’t the best choice.

So she waited until she was on the ground for more books and did just that. It felt good.

“Alright, next one.” She opened the second box, ripping the tape easily and grabbing as many books as she could safely carry before moving the ladder a little to the right, closer to that dusty globe, and climbing again. Shelving them as neatly as she could, she squished them all in a bit so she could save room.

Leon stopped spinning the globe, or what he figured was close enough to spinning it. Something felt … off.

He looked back to the living girl, still on the ladder. She was stretched out to the side, with only her left foot and hand on the ladder, trying to fix one of the books on the shelf. Good thing she was wearing jeans instead of a skirt, he thought, before noticing something a lot more pressing than that. Right next to the ladder, Mukuro looked up at her with glazed eyes, reaching out a hand towards her.

Which normally wouldn’t be an issue, if Mukuro was any other one of them. But her power was different.

She could touch livings.

“What are you doing?!” Leon ran towards her, bringing the globe crashing to the floor as he tackled Mukuro to the ground. Mukuro’s hand just barely grazed the living girl’s ankle, making her gasp and hold onto the ladder for dear life as it seemed to wobble.

If he still needed to breathe, Leon would’ve been holding his breath as he waited for the girl to steady herself. After what seemed like an eternity, she did, and started climbing back down for more of her books.

Only for Leon to gasp and try to scramble off of Mukuro when he realized just where the globe had fallen.

The living girl stepped on the globe instead of the next lowest rung of the ladder, pitching backwards before she could catch herself.

Mukuro looked at Leon with wide eyes, but he couldn’t take his own eyes off of the girl, now on the ground, completely still. She … didn’t look so good.

Not even a full minute passed before he heard the front door open again, with the voice of that living boy and another voice he didn’t recognize. Both of them started shouting when they entered the library and saw the living girl. It was then that he realized what exactly had just happened, and what might result from it.

“Sakura’s gonna kill me.”