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Mogari is missing. He has been for a week now, Mogari smiled when he went home, Mogari laughed that day, Mogari promised.
Now, Mogari is gone and Eugene has to start over again. Like hell, he would.
He would get him back, it’s only right, he couldn’t bear the thought of Mogari ever leaving him—alone, isolated, and confused. Scratch that! He doesn’t even think Mogari was even capable of leaving Korekishi alone or did he get it all wrong?
He never knew what his family is like, Mogari never told him anything, he was far as as the brightest star and Eugene was contented being shone by the faintest of light. What Mogari lacks in backstory, he filled the void with Eugene‘s constant curiosity, he never fails to suprise him—never failed to intrigue him.
Mogari always finds something new to excite Eugene, to make his heart run a thousand laps, to make his lips quiver in anticipation, to make his eyes reflect the warmth light of the sun—with Mogari’s eyes filled with so much passion. Eugene learned it, he keeps learning and learning, he wants, no desires to know every nook and cranny of this man. Eugene was a person who constantly finds interests, who indulges in the small pleasures in life, in a constant pursuit of knowledge but only Mogari, only him, was when Eugene could never figure him out.
Mogari was an endless void seeping at the darkest crevices of Eugene’s soul, it completed his half waxed existence. Mogari filled his life with eternal adventure.
And now Mogari was nowhere to be found, he looked at Eugene like he personally carved every single scenery of this world in his two hands, and in that moment decided to walk away. While Eugene was left standing, instinctively reaching out for the back of someone who had turned away.
Mogari had as much of Eugene as he had to give. Probably more.
From a distant sound, it flowed with Tamon’s voice, “Korekishi?”
Muster a smile, smile. A smile that can drown the echoes of wallowing loneliness, he doesn’t need to think to figure it out.
”Yes, Tamon? Is everything okay?” Eugene said with a honest yet unnerving voice.
“Mogari,” he started and Eugene felt like the whole words was on his shoulder, like Atlas, no literally Atlas.. “He hasn’t been attending the club for a week, he wasn’t there when we visited his apartment, a-and Ren is missing too!” Tamon spitted out, his usual nervousness and jittery behavior was on full display, with something akin to worry and despair.
“Tamon, you idiot.” Kanzaki said while gesturing Tamon to be quiet but it was clear that he was also waiting for Eugene’s response.
“I think. We just need to wait for him.” Eugene didn’t care to admit the amount of bitterness that those words carry, he knew that there is no possible way for Eugene to bring back Mogari. Bring back, you could only say that if someone was stolen or taken, but Mogari left in his own volition, right?
“Do you think he’ll come back?” Kanzaki spoke, hints of hesitation in his voice.
“Calm down, you two. I’m sure he just needed to attend to some family business.” Eugene assured them.
That seem to eased their worries. Eugene could only wish to also ease the crawling feeling slowly caught up to him.
After all, it wasn’t everyday that you’ll fall deeply inlove with your bestfriend.
—
“438th ghost EXORCISED!” Mogari yelled whilst chewing air, it was such a peculiar sight.
“That was a pretty tough one, is everyone okay?” Eugene worried, everyone had a couple of bruises then and there. This evil spirit was quite powerful and they weren’t expecting it at all.
“Woah. Someone kill me.” Kanzaki muttered through a daze, he was sitting on the ground with his hands on his right knee.
Tamon cried out, “I hate this! Why was that evil spirit so powerful?!” Tamon hugged himself and Eugene can’t help but feel bad for the guy, it’s bad enough that he is so scared of humans, what more if they’re gigantic and scary spirits? Not that Eugene can see, but based on their reactions, he was probably spot on.
“You guys go home and get some rest,” Eugene smiled at Tamon and helped Kanzaki to stand up, “It’s getting dark out, Tamon, can you accompany Kanzaki to get home safely?”
“I don’t need that wimp to look after me!” Kanzaki immediately regained his stance and continued to brush off the dirt on his uniform.
“Sure! Let’s just go by the train so it’s faster.” Tamon sported his usual smile, immediately recovering from the fight.
“Your logic is so weird.” Kanzaki turned away to get his bike, probably to park at the school yard. Eugene didn’t miss the slight red hue on the white haired boy’s face.
Huh, looks like someone has a crush.
Eugene can’t help but smile as the two say their goodbyes, Kanzaki was still glaring at him and Tamon was smiling nervously under his glare. Weird duo, but surprisingly cute.
Weird. What’s weird right now is how quiet Mogari is, he hasn’t spoken a word after eating the spirit.
“Mogari?” Eugene called out, turning his head to look at the latter, he was staring up—at the stars. His red eyes reflect the gentle light of the moon, Eugene can’t help but think that the stars pale in comparison.
Mogari slowly turned his head to Eugene’s direction, Eugene raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak when the exorcist pouted and looked down.
Is he upset?
“Mogari, what’s wrong? It’s getting late, you should be getting home.” Eugene made sure to drag out every syllable of Mogari’s name, for good measure.
“You didn’t ask me.” Mogari whispered under his breath. Eugene heard it nevertheless.
“Ask you what?” Eugene said cluelessly.
“It’s dark and late.” Mogari whispered again.
Where is this conversation going?
“It is.”
“And you haven’t asked me,” Mogari stated it as a matter of fact. Eugene has never been more confused in his life.
“Mogari, I really don’t get it.” Eugene tried to sound empathetic but he just sounded more confused.
Mogari sighs, he looks away. “It’s dark and late, you haven’t asked me to walk you home.”
Mogari bit his lower lip, as if anticipating heavily for the response. Eugene doesn’t know why Mogari’s nervous, isn’t it obvious that whatever he wants from Eugene, he’ll give?
He turned his whole body the right, just enough to face him, just enough to be close to him, it’s just right.
“Okay then, do you want to walk me home, Mogari?”
He nodded profusely, “Let’s go, Koreshiki.”
Eugene didn’t know it that time but this would inevitably start a routine.
Everyday after class, Mogari would walk Eugene to his house. Even though Eugene keeps inisisting that he doesn’t have to since his house was 10 minutes away from Mogari’s apartment. Mogari would just shrug and say “I like seeing the sea at night.”
And now, this was not part of the routine.
“Mogari.” Eugene acknowledged the boy sitting in the edge of his window in the middle of the night. For the first time, Eugene had to look away. “You should get home it’s late.”
“I want to stay with you.” Mogari said, looking at him straight on. Eugene has to turn his back away.
“What’s with you? We’ll see each other tomorrow anyway.” Eugene tried to hide the nervousness in his voice as he picks up the books from his desk and neatly arranges them on his book shelf.
“This morning,” Mogari mentioned. “When that girl confessed to you, you told her that you understood her, you said you also liked someone. You said you liked someone you barely knew.”
“I know I said that, I don’t understand why you’re hung up about it. Get home safe, Mogari.” Eugene remarked, desperate to end this conversation. It was more embarrassing than stupid or maybe it’s both embarrassing and stupid,
“Do you like me?”
Before Eugene can even think, much less conjure up words. Mogari spoke again.
“You do right? Why are you saying that you barely know me?” Mogari spoke out in a small voice. “You won’t even look at me right now, Koreshiki.”
“Eugene, come closer.”
Eugene prided himself with his restraints and perseverance, his ability to contain his wants and desires, always aiming to be pragmatic and logical. So when his feet walked towards the source of his overconsuming affection, against his better judgement, he walked closer.
He walked slowly, as dramatic as it can be. He wanted to get every last drop of this moment, he wanted to savour it, would Mogari reject him? Or worse, accept him yet it will disappear as fast as it came. Eugene doesn’t think he can handle both, so he walked slowly.
Merely inches away, he could practically hear Mogari’s breath.
“Your hair is longer.”
Mogari reached out, gently twisting a loose strand at the side of Eugene’s face—one he had forgotten to tie up. His red eyes, once sparking with the thrill of adventure, now held nothing but quiet adoration.
Eugene had never been particularly fond of his hair. Its bright orange stood out too much in Japan, an unnatural color he could never quite embrace. But in this moment, it was the very thing that connected them.
Mogari reached out again, his lips trembled slightly. Eugene can’t do this, not now, he might combust right there and then. He can’t afford it.
So, Eugene stepped back and leaned his head the opposite direction. It was a small gesture but the message was clear, he was rejecting Mogari’s touch.
“Go home, Mogari….please.”
But then again, who was Mogari without his surprises?
Without hesitation, he extended his right hand and clasped Eugene’s left, his grip unrelenting, almost desperate. His eyes were tender, brimming with something unspoken, yet his touch told another story—rough, possessive, as if letting go would mean losing something irretrievable. His fingers pressed into Eugene’s skin, holding him like a lifeline, like he feared the moment would vanish if he loosened his grasp even slightly.
“I am.”
Mogari wrapped his fingers around Eugene’s hand, his grip firm yet reverent, as he slowly brought it to his lips. The air between them was thick, heavy with unspoken longing. Silence stretched, not empty but suffocating, pressing down on them like a weight. Their desire was raw, aching—so intense it felt as if it might consume them whole.
“I have never wanted anything more—more than I do right now, more than I do with you.”
Mogari shook his head, a wide smile breaking across his face, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. His eyes shimmered with something raw, something unrestrained.
“You make me feel greedy,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “Desperate.”
He kissed Eugene’s hands again but this time, his eyes glued to the lines of Eugene’s fingers. “Do you remember what you said to me when I told you about starting the club?”
Eugene nodded slowly, humming a quiet sound.
“You said you wanted to believe me.” Mogari stopped, his hand still firmly holding onto Eugene. “Will you believe me now?”
His gaze was heavy, yet unbearably soft—like a touch that never quite landed, lingering just out of reach. His eyes traced every detail with quiet reverence, drinking in the sight of the one before him as if afraid they might disappear. There was something aching in the way he looked, a silent plea woven into the intensity of his stare—yearning, desperate, as though he were memorizing every flicker of movement, every breath, branding it into his soul. It was the kind of gaze that spoke louder than words, one that held the weight of everything he wanted but had yet to claim.
Mogari pulls him closer, he was now fully sitting on the window ledge with his forehead bumping into Eugene’s chest. Eugene wanted to say something—anything but nothing will come out, nothing good will come out, he was scared, scared of what will happen. He feels so unworthy of the boy before him, can he even catch up to him. Will Mogari eventually be exhausted from him? Will Mogari wake up and realize that his feelings were only brought up by having his first friend? What if they weren’t on the same wavelength?
He’ll have to answer those questions later because right now, he was wrapping his arms around his world—his adventure.
—And Eugene didn’t say a single word. He almost wished he did.
🗝️
It’s been two weeks, two weeks and Mogari hasn’t returned. The club discontinued their activities, Tamon and Kanzaki are still hanging out with Eugene—more or less keeping him company. Eugene knows he’s being unfair by actively trying to avoid them but Eugene never aced an emotional intelligence test, he was completely self aware yet does nothing to affirm that awareness. That’s another nail to his coffin.
Now he looks totally isolated in the quiet library of Kamakura, believe it or not, Eugene doesn’t grace these halls as much. When he wants to study a topic, he looks for workbooks or lectures online or just review his notes, but hours of staring at the empty seat next to him was doing nothing for his overflowing thoughts.
He sat at the far ends of a small table, the one located next to the window that contains the solemn athmosphere of the barren yard of the school, it was full of trees and unruly heaps of boxes and trash. Eugene thought it was ironic that it was conveniently placed infront of the library, as if telling the students “If you don’t study, you’ll end up alone and trashed.”
It’s ironic because Eugene does study, above average even, but yet he feels completely alone and trashed.
“I don’t think you’ll end up alone and trashed just because you didn’t study,” a cold and unnerving voice spoke up beside him, Eugene’s face contorted a bit.
“Ichimiya-senpai?”
The President swiftly took a seat to the right, next to Eugene, he speaks, once again with the same authority and indifference “I was wondering why the Phantom Busters have not been active recently,”
“Sorry, Pres. We are—uhm encountering some internal problems lately, i’m sure that we’re not heavily needed anyway.” Eugene sighed with a straight and superficial smile. Ichimiya nodded slightly and turned his attention to the book in his hand, Eugene hoped that Ichimiya just let it go and forget he never asked. .
Huh, Eugene never really bonded with the president but he was quite uncanny, indeed.
“You know, Mr. Korekishi,” Ichimiya’s focus was still on the book on his hands yet he spoke, gently. “Mr. Shishikuno had talked to me two weeks prior.”
The bones in his neck must have cracked on how fast Eugene turned his head to the right, the sting in his chest was palpable, almost eating him alive. Ichimiya took it as a sign to speak further, much to the dismay of Eugene’s heart.
“Though it is none of my concern, I take my duties seriously. He had asked me to coax you into joining the student council, though it is beneficial for us, I prefer not to in my own volition.” Ichimiya spoke rigidly, clear, concise, and exact. Eugene just wanted to dig a hole for himself.
A human still has his limits, right? His response will be an affirmation of that.
“He asked you that? That asshole so he waa really planning on leaving—“
“He didn’t want you to be alone.”
“That’s bullshit, Tamon and Kanzaki is here! H-he…” Eugene looks stupid, this is the first time in two weeks that he was acutely aware of his own loneliness, where he lets the mask slip.
“I hope you take it kindly, Mr. Korekishi. You are a smart person, i’m sure you understand.” Eugene could swear that there was a flash of the cold boy’s face, even if it’s just a tiny spark. Ichimiya expected him to understand, he hated it. He hated how he did understand.
Of course, Mogari would think about how the three of them would manage without him. He knew, deep down, that sooner or later, loneliness would creep in, swallowing them whole in his absence. But was that really the case? Or was it just Korekishi, left to wallow in solitude, grasping at ghosts of what once was? Was it arrogant to assume they were drowning just as he was? Or was it simply wishful thinking—an unconscious hope that his absence would leave an ache, a void as vast as the one carving itself into his own chest?
Ichimiya nodded to himself, he stood up with that same unmoving expression that he entered with. He turned away while briefly acknowledging Eugene, who in turn just stared at the shelf in front of him. Not exactly ideal as a polite farewell.
Eugene went home that day with a light body but a heavier heart, a quiet ache settling in his chest. And in the days that followed—leading up to his high school graduation—that weight never quite lifted. It lingered in the spaces between laughter, in the silence of late nights, in the way his gaze drifted toward the empty seat that should have been filled.
Something died within him that day.
🗝️
Can a plant win a staring contest? Eugene hardly thinks so, he has been staring at his table for 30 minutes.
“I’m not shocked at all, it is graduation day. You have so many admirers, Koreshiki.” Kanzaki teased him and lightly poked his cheek.
“Yeah, but never like this.” Eugene was smiling awkwardly but he felt a bead of sweat in his forehead.
On the table lay a bouquet—simple at first glance, yet strangely deliberate in its randomness. Purple hyacinths sprawled over the edges, their rich, velvety petals curling slightly at the tips. Tiny forget-me-nots nestled between them, almost hidden, like a whispered thought left unsaid. White carnations stood firm among them, their ruffled blooms too pristine to be anything but intentional. And then, just a hint of white tulips—subtle, yet impossible to ignore.
Eugene let out a sharp cackle, the absurdity of it hitting him all at once. It was as if someone had just grabbed whatever flowers they found on the sidewalk, shoving them together with no sense of tact. No symmetry. No elegance. Nothing refined or calculated.
And yet, his laughter faded just as quickly as it came. Because the longer he stared at the arrangement, the harder it became to ignore the message woven into it.
Purple hyacinths—regret.
Forget-me-nots—longing.
White carnations—forgiveness.
White tulips—apology.
Eugene wasn’t an expert in floriography, but even he knew what this meant.
‘I miss you. I’m sorry. I love you.’
His fingers ghosted over the petals, hesitant. The flowers were fresh, their scent still lingering in the air—soft, sweet, and familiar in a way that made his chest ache. Whoever left them had chosen each bloom with intent, no matter how haphazard the arrangement seemed.
And that thought, more than anything, unsettled him.
Tamon suggested, “Maybe there’s a note?”
Kanzaki started flipping around the petals and the wrapper, he suddenly flinched as his hand reached out for something beneath the tulips, “There is.” He hands it to Eugene as they anticipate his reaction.
In small fancy cursive letters, it reads. ‘congratulations‘
Eugene almost missed the slight gasp that escaped from himself, but he forced himself to swallow it. A flower bouquet would not help in making sense of it all.
“Leave it be, c’mon Koreshiki still has to make his speech later!” Kanzaki tried pulling Tamon and Eugene out of the door but Tamon was holding on the table, “I want to spend a bit more time on our club room you know!”
“What club room? It’s basically a dusty abandoned room!”
“It still holds the memories of our youth, Zaki!” Tamon protested.
“Let’s go! Eugene c’mon!” Kanzaki insisted.
“You two can go on ahead, i’ll just clean up a bit.”
Kanzaki and Tamon exchanged knowing looks and nodded to each other but not without the concern that is present in their eyes. Eugene can’t blame them, it has been exactly 3 years since Phantom Busters, since Mogari Shishikuno disappeared.
Eugene stood up and reached for a small box on the dust-covered shelf. He chuckled, remembering how they used to spend every day in this gritty little space. They never minded the dust, too busy laughing and sharing meals together.
🗝️
The club room was silent, the golden light of the setting sun spilling through the windows, stretching long across the wooden floor. Dust danced in the air, catching the glow, settling over stacks of books and half-finished notes.
And at the center of it all, Eugene slept.
His breathing was slow, steady, his head resting on his folded arms. His glasses lay neatly beside him, and a few strands of hair had slipped free from his clip, brushing against his cheek. He looked peaceful like this—unguarded, oblivious.
Mogari stood frozen beside him, his fingers flexing at his side, clenching, unclenching.
He should wake him up. Say something. Anything.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he just stared, lips parting slightly, breath caught in his throat as his hand lifted—then stopped, fingers trembling midair.
No.
He let out a shaky exhale, dragging his hand back to his side, curling it into a fist. His nails dug into his palm as he forced himself to look away, his teeth pressing into his lower lip. What was wrong with him? Why did it feel like if he touched Eugene, even just for a second, something inside him would break beyond repair?
He swallowed hard. His whole chest ached.
But it wasn’t enough.
His gaze drifted back, drawn in as if by gravity, as if something deeper, something more desperate, more hopeless, had already decided for him.
His hand lifted again, slowly this time, hesitantly, almost as if afraid Eugene would wake up and catch him in the act. His fingertips brushed against the strands of hair that had fallen over Eugene’s face, smoothing them back—but the moment he touched him, a sharp inhale caught in his throat.
Warm.
So warm.
His hand lingered. His chest tightened.
And then—without thinking, without stopping himself—his fingers ghosted downward, tracing the soft curve of Eugene’s cheek, dragging lower until they barely, barely grazed the corner of his lips.
A shudder ran through him. His breath hitched.
God.
His fingers twitched against the softness of Eugene’s lips, then curled inward, bringing that fleeting warmth to his own mouth. His lips barely parted as he pressed his fingers against them, eyes slipping shut, something raw and unspoken welling up inside him.
If this was all he could have, then he’d take it.
Even if it was pathetic. Even if it wasn’t real.
He stayed like that for a moment, drinking in the lingering heat before finally—finally—dropping his hand and turning away, a bitter sigh slipping past his lips.
He had no idea—
No idea—
That the second he turned his back, Eugene’s breath hitched, his body betraying him as his face flared red. His heart slammed so violently against his ribs it almost hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip, hands clutching at the fabric of his sleeves.
Mogari had no idea.
And that was the real problem.
🗝️
Eugene had chosen to make his last summer before college as eventful as possible, treating it as both an adventure and a farewell tour of Japan. After all, in just a few months, he would be leaving for England, stepping into a new chapter of his life. He would have loved for Kanzaki and Tamon to join him or at least spend more time together before the inevitable distance set in, but he knew they had their own paths to follow.
Kanzaki had gone back to his hometown with his family, while Tamon—after much coaxing (or rather, forceful shoving) from both Eugene and Kanzaki—had finally agreed to enroll in a summer music class. Over time, the three of them had slowly, almost imperceptibly, begun carving out their futures.
Tamon, despite his persistent self-doubt, had chosen to pursue a degree in music. Even if he wasn’t entirely convinced that he could become a full-fledged musician, he still had the potential to thrive as a renowned producer. Meanwhile, Kanzaki had stumbled upon an unexpected talent for the fashion industry. A magazine editor had taken notice of him during their second year, signing him into a management program. Though Kanzaki remained reluctant, he had been given an opportunity—one that allowed him to both model and design clothing. And for Eugene?
He never anticipated such a shift in his plans. In truth, it wasn’t a drastic change—at least, not in the grand scheme of things. The only real difference was that he had chosen to pursue a degree in the humanities rather than follow the expected path of science.
At first, he worried that the decision would lead to burnout, especially with the way people spoke about his potential. Many believed that someone with his intellect and skillset was meant for a more prestigious, rigorous discipline—one that aligned with conventional ideas of success. But he knew better.
His chosen field, after all, was no less demanding. His studies would delve into history, anthropology, and the arts, requiring the same depth of research and critical analysis that he had always thrived on. If anything, this was where his true passion lay. The prospect of immersing himself in an institution that championed such fields—especially one as prestigious as this renowned university in England—filled him with a kind of excitement he hadn’t felt in years.
For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t just following expectations. He was chasing something that felt entirely his own.
In the meanwhile, he found himself cramped in a small car with a rowdy bunch of peculiar individuals. He had decided to enroll in a summer research program, probably more of a documentary team. He had been assigned as the assistant writer for this week’s job. Him and his team where assigned to film a documentary on a secluded town in the hightop mountains.
Don’t get him wrong, Eugene was having a blast in this program. Just last week, they were able to uncover a 20 year old family mystery, Eugene laughed at the thought he was actually more of an actual ghost buster now, with the ‘paranormal’ activities. He can’t stop thinking how his friends, instead of actively investigating the occurences would just prefer to mess or laugh with the ghost there and then.
It was still a good memory after all.
Eugene exhaled, watching as his own breath curled in the air like mist. Impossible. It was the peak of summer, and yet the further they walked, the colder it became—thick, unnatural, the kind of cold that settled into the bones rather than just the skin.
The town itself looked ordinary enough at a glance—wooden houses, narrow roads, the occasional flicker of movement behind tattered curtains. But something was off. The air felt heavy, thick with an unnamed tension, as if the town itself was holding its breath.
Mogari walked ahead, his posture as unreadable as ever, but Eugene could tell he felt it too. The way his fingers twitched slightly at his sides, the barely perceptible shift of his eyes scanning the surroundings—he was on guard.
A gust of wind rushed past, colder than before, sending a shiver down Eugene’s spine. It carried with it a faint, acrid scent—damp earth? Ash? He wasn’t sure, but it made his stomach churn.
The silence was the worst part. Even the sound of their own footsteps felt muffled, swallowed by something unseen. No birds, no insects—just that lingering, breathless stillness.
Eugene swallowed hard. Whatever was wrong with this town… it had been wrong for a long time.
Eugene can’t help but acknowledge the feeling that is creeping into him and how it’s not terror or fear but anticipation. Anticipation of something, something that he had already buried in his heart.