Chapter Text
Seungmin moves into the house on a Thursday.
It’s a small, run-down house. One bedroom, one bathroom with only a small corner shower, not even a bathtub. The kitchen and living room area are essentially one moderately sized room. Seungmin thinks the kitchen can barely be called a kitchen. There’s a counter that lines one wall, on the end is a single sink. He doesn’t even have a proper oven, just two burners that have to be plugged into the wall outlet to use. At least he can store it on top of his refrigerator when he needs the counter space, but he won’t be making any fancy meals while living here.
Seungmin normally has standards when it comes to living conditions. He’s a clean person. He likes clean spaces. And the stains on the walls and floors make this place look anything but clean.
But life has been hard lately.
Before life had been hard, it had been really good. He was engaged, he had sold his apartment and moved into his fiance’s apartment. Where only his fiance was on the lease. He said he’d get to it some day, but what was the rush? Didn’t Seungmin trust him?
And then came the messy breakup after he returned home to find his fiance fucking the new intern from work.
It took less than two weeks for his supervisor to come up with a reason he could no longer continue to work at the same company as his ex-fiance, and for Seungmin to be kicked out of his ex-fiance’s apartment.
He’s lucky he has good friends, he thinks. He’d stayed with Jisung and Minho for a couple weeks, crashing on the newlywed’s couch. They hadn’t complained even though he knew they were both desperate for him to leave sooner than later. They hadn’t been able to afford a proper honeymoon after their wedding, so evenings after work were still precious to them. And truth be told, being around two people so deeply in love so soon after his own disastrously failed relationship hurt more than he cared to admit.
So he’d stayed with Jeongin a bit, before being passed to Chan when Jeongin needed the space for his younger brother.
When a cheap house rental popped up in his email subscriptions, he hopped on it and signed the lease without even viewing the property. He was tired of being a burden on his friends. He also wanted his own space so he could mope openly without judgment.
So at least he had his own place. And enough savings to last him another month or two if he spent sparingly, giving him time to find a job. Things could be worse.
It’s Saturday evening now. He’s sitting in the living room on the couch from his old apartment, one of the few pieces of furniture he didn’t sell off when he moved in with his fiance. The couch is also currently his bed, because he did sell off his comfortable full sized bed in favor of sharing his ex’s king size. So now he’s sitting on his couch/bed watching the light in the kitchen flicker for what feels like the hundredth time since he moved in two days ago.
He puts his library book down and heads to the kitchen. He’s not completely helpless at home repair, but electrical work is something that’s generally beyond him. Outside of twisting the lightbulb back and forth to see if it’s loose, there’s not much he can do without at least a youtube video to guide him, and he’s foregone setting up internet for now to save a few thousand won a month.
Twisting the lightbulb does not work.
He sighs in defeat and just switches off the light. There’s no overhead light in the living room but he has one floor lamp that he flicks on and moves closer to where he’s sitting so he can keep reading. Tomorrow he’ll head to the library and use the wifi there to figure out how to fix his electrical woes.
He brings his laptop and a pair of earbuds with him to the library, but Youtube isn’t helpful beyond telling him that whatever is wrong with his light is likely beyond his skillset. He texts Hyunjin for advice, and Hyunjin tells him (kindly) to not fucking touch any electrical wires because he’ll probably kill himself, and he will be over on his next day off to take a look.
So he spends his day applying to as many jobs as he can find. Jobs he doesn’t think he’s qualified for, jobs he knows he’s overqualified for. Anything. His savings will only last so long and he doesn’t have a backup plan.
Once he’s applied for anything he can find, he looks for a new romance to check out, then heads for the nearest subway station to go home.
The closest stop drops him off about ten blocks from his house. The weather is nice though, and there’s a market on the way so he stops off and grabs enough ramyun to last him for a few meals, as well as a few veggies and a couple chicken breasts to make his meals a bit heartier and healthier.
He’s broke, but he has standards.
Except when he gets home and turns on the kitchen light to prepare some food, it immediately flashes bright and then goes out.
As does the rest of the power in the kitchen.
He flips a few switches and opens his refrigerator to confirm everything in the kitchen is without power, then slams the door shut and lets out a “Come the fuck on!” in frustration.
He’s had a rough few weeks, now he’s living in this shithole, he just wants a fucking break.
The power comes back on. Seungmin could weep.
He quickly plugs in his electric kettle to get water boiling, then starts sauteing half of a chicken breast and some bok choy.
It’s as he’s finishing adding the meat and vegetables to his ramyun that the power in the kitchen goes out again. Seungmin sighs in frustration, but he has his food, the light in the living room is still shining strong, so he’s not quite as close to a mental breakdown as he was twenty minutes ago.
He settles on the couch with his ramyun, pulling a blanket over his lap, and settles in to read for the night.
It’s two hours later, just as he’s starting to get a bit drowsy, that the power in the living room also goes out. Deciding he doesn’t have it in him to even be upset at this point, Seungmin does his dishes by the light of his cellphone, then curls up on the couch and goes to bed.
Hyunjin comes over as promised on Tuesday. Due to the frequent power fluctuations, Seungmin has had to rely on the library in the interim to charge his phone and laptop and continue his job hunt. Things are looking up though! He has five interviews this week. None of the jobs are ideal, but money is money at this point. If the best he can manage is standing all day on his feet at a cheap diner, well. Does he really have a choice?
“You said it’s the kitchen light?” Hyunjin asks.
“It was the kitchen light,” Seungmin says. “Now it’s the power in the kitchen and the living room.”
Hyunjin looks over at the living room and frowns. “I’ll take a look, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to fix it. If the entire house is having power issues, it’s not just a loose or faulty wire. It’d be something bigger,” he says. He looks regretful.
“It’s fine. Even if you can just tell me what’s wrong, maybe I can figure something out. Or get a professional in for cheaper.”
Hyunjin’s artistic by nature, and he’s made a bit of a hobby out of flipping houses. It’s not his career (he’s an art teacher at one of the high schools), but he’s good enough that it does earn him a decent chunk of disposable income each year. And because of his hobby, he’s picked up a good bit of knowledge regarding home repair. He is not, however, a professional electrician.
The power works beautifully while Hyunjin is there, because of course it does. Nothing flickers, the lights are steady and bright and all of them work. Hyunjin twists the bulbs and pulls out the kitchen light fixture to check the parts in the ceiling.
He apologizes when he’s done. “I’m sorry Seungmo. I don’t see anything wrong. Everything’s connected well, the parts look up to date and working well as far as I can tell.”
Seungmin deflates. And Hyunjin, one of the most empathetic people he knows, must sense the defeat in him. He slings an arm over Seungmin’s shoulders. “I feel like we haven’t seen you in awhile,” he says. “Let Changbin and I treat you to dinner. We miss you.”
He leans into Hyunjin’s shoulder against his will. “I don’t want to be a bother,” he mumbles.
Hyunjin grabs his shoulder and shakes him a little without removing his arm. “Seungmin,” he says. “Don’t be stupid. You’re not a bother, you’re a friend. I know you don’t have anything going on Friday night. We’ll be here at seven to pick you up.”
Seungmin smiles at him gratefully because it is easier to accept his friends’ good will when his attendance is being demanded rather than requested. “Thank you,” he says. Then he grins. “And I want barbecue. Extra meat.”
Hyunjin laughs as he gathers his things. “Yah! I don’t think you get to demand,” he said, but he’s grinning so Seungmin knows he’ll get his barbecue.
Still, he’s always been a menace. “I’m starving to death. To death!” he says dramatically. “I need meat!”
Hyunjin is still laughing as he walks out the door. As soon as the door closes behind him, the lights in the kitchen flicker out again.
The stupid electrical issues have been annoying, but he can ignore them if needs to, and he has an electrician scheduled to come out the following Wednesday, so everything should be fixed soon.
His interview for a nearby coffee shop went well, so he’s hopeful that the cost for the electrician won’t even hit him that hard. He has an interview for a diner lined up as well if the coffee shop doesn’t work out, and the library he’s been spending his days at put up a help wanted sign to which he’ll be applying.
With things looking up, he makes the grave mistake of letting down his guard and relaxing a bit.
So when he looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch reading a book and sees another person standing at the end of the hallway in the entrance of the bedroom, he thinks his freakout is entirely justified.
He startles so badly his book is flung a good couple meters away from him. He glances momentarily at the book, then back down the hallway to where his bedroom is at. The figure who had just been standing there in his bedroom doorway, staring at him, is now gone.
Seungmin is breathing hard when he stands up. He doesn’t want to investigate. He wants to close his eyes and pretend he didn’t see anything, but if someone is in his house, he needs to know who and why, and he needs them to leave.
He slowly makes his way down the hallway. “Hello?” he calls out. “I know you’re in there. Come out or I’m calling the police.”
Too late he realizes it’s an empty threat. His phone is still out on the couch.
He doesn’t actually use his bedroom much. He doesn’t have a bed, so it’s mostly used as storage for the few boxes he used to move in and his clothes. He goes into the room in the morning and the evening to get dressed, then to change into his pajamas, and that’s about it. The semi-unfamiliarity of the room makes his walk down the hallway even more intimidating.
He’s not sure what he’s expecting when he gets to the bedroom. Someone jumping out and attacking him? A person just sitting there, relaxing against the wall like they own the place? Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t an empty room.
But the room was empty. The room only has a rack for clothes, there’s no closets for an intruder to hide. The house doesn't have an attic or a basement, so there aren’t any stairs or hidden exits. There are no doors to the outside that someone could’ve left through. There are two windows, but both were painted shut before Seungmin moved in, and a quick examination of the windows shows the seals haven’t been broken.
So where did the person go?
He turns around a couple times in the room like the mysterious intruder might suddenly pop up in a corner, but no one does. He slowly walks back to the living room, glancing a couple times behind him in case the intruder reappears, but he doesn’t.
When he gets back to his phone, he calls Hyunjin.
“There was someone in my house,” he says quietly before Hyunjin even has time to greet him.
“Seung…what? What do you mean?”
“I saw someone standing in my bedroom. But now they’re gone, and I’m kind of sort of really freaking out right now.”
He can hear Hyunjin relaying information to Changbin, then Changbin’s voice comes on over the phone. “I’m coming over. Get near an exit, find something you can use as a weapon.”
Seungmin wants to cry. But he does as he’s told. He grabs his only kitchen knife and stands by the door, holding the handle with both hands. He can’t imagine he’d actually be able use it properly, but maybe he can bluff and scare away the intruder if he comes back?
Changbin and Hyunjin arrive in less than fifteen minutes. They live close to downtown Seoul, far enough away that to make it here in that amount of time, they were speeding. A lot. He’s really got the best friends anyone could ask for.
“You said the bedroom?” Changbin asks when he walks inside. Seungmin nods and points down the hallway.
“They were just standing right in front of the door, but I don’t know where they went,” he says. He’s not usually a cryer but he’s close to crying now, and that’s when he realizes just how scared he actually is.
Now that he’s not alone, he can give in to the fear a little bit. He lets himself lean against the wall as Changbin moves further into the small house, Hyunjin following. His hands are starting to tremble so he slides a few steps to the left to place the knife down on the kitchen counter.
Hyunjin stays in the hallway while Changbin enters the bedroom. He searches thoroughly, Seungmin will give him that, but just like his own search earlier, Changbin comes out of the bedroom empty handed.
“Are you sure you saw someone?” Changbin asks.
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure it was in the bedroom?”
“Yes.”
Changbin holds up his hands, placatingly. “Whoever was here seems to have left then.”
Hyunjin, although still on the lookout, head swiveling to catch any movement, has moved to hold Seungmin’s hand. “I think you should come stay with us for a few days. We should call the police and let them know. They can search the place too and make sure no one’s here. Or make sure no one was here.”
Seungmin doesn’t really want to stay at Changbin and Hyunjin’s place. He feels like he’s already been enough of a bother to his friends, and he’s only lived in the new house for a couple weeks. But he’s also terrified because he knows he saw someone standing in that room. So he lets Changbin dial the police for him, then accepts the phone when it’s handed over. The police say they’ll send someone over but agree that the best course of action is to spend a few days away from the house, just to be safe.
So he packs a few days worth of clothes and his toiletries, stuffs them in a bag, and leaves.
He stays with Changbin and Hyunjin for three days. During this time, he gets hired at the coffee shop (his interview with the diner is canceled but he can’t bring himself to be too upset, he’d honestly not wanted to work there anyways). He spends one of his days at the coffee shop. He picks up his uniform, and another employee shows him around and trains him on a few basic tasks. Seungmin is set to officially start in one week.
The police search the house and find no evidence of an intruder breaking in, and predictably find no one inside. They tell him to be vigilant but he can also tell they’re annoyed with him for wasting their time. Changbin stops by after he’s off work each day to do a walk through but can’t find anything amiss, so on the fourth day, Seungmin moves back in.
He puts his backpack on the couch before doing his own walk through. The power seems to be functioning normally for once (and Seungmin has a wild thought that maybe the intruder took pity on him and fixed it for free). The main room, bedroom, and bathroom are blissfully intruder free. None of the doors are unlocked, none of the windows have been tampered with.
When he gets back to the kitchen, a small detail catches his eye. The kitchen knife, which he’d placed on the counter, is now sitting in the sink.
It’s a small thing, and literally anyone could have done it he thinks. The police could have moved it there, or Changbin could have during one of his nightly sweeps of the place. His own memory from that day is hazy enough with fear that he could’ve put the thing away and just forgot about it.
But he’s positive he left the knife on the counter.
He walks through the house again, looking at the details a bit more closely.
His book is sitting on the side table next to the couch, bookmark tucked neatly into the pages. Did he pick it up after he’d flung it to the floor in fear? He can’t remember.
In his bedroom, he has a single clothing rack for his shirts. In his haste to leave with Changbin and Hyunjin, he’d grabbed three random shirts from the middle of the rack, pushing anything else messily to either side just to get it out of the way and not bothering to fix anything. Now the empty hangers are all neatly on the left side of the rack, with his clean clothes hanging together on the right side.
He breathes deeply and wills himself not to freak out again.
He’s not going to call the police. He’s not going to call Changbin or Hyunjin. That didn’t solve anything, and it only inconvenienced everyone and made him look foolish.
When he goes to bed that night, however, he does close the door to his bedroom before he settles on the couch. He knows logically it won’t stop anyone, but it makes him feel better nonetheless.
His job at the coffee shop is fine. The pay is less than what he needs, and the hours are earlier than he’s used to, but it’s not unexpected, and the early hours are a bit of a blessing. Most customers coming through are tired and focused on getting their caffeine fix before work, so they don’t really have the time to bother him. And he’s off by early afternoon most days, so he has plenty of time in the evening for another part time job if he can find one. So he puts in his application to the library.
Wednesday rolls around, and the electrician finds nothing wrong with any of his wiring. He’s not terribly surprised, he’s actually had very few electrical issues since he saw the figure in his bedroom.
He’s also moved his rack of clothing out to the living room and he keeps the bedroom door permanently closed. It’s not rational. If someone’s in his house, an unlocked, closed door isn’t going to deter them from hurting him. But it makes him feel a little less scared.
Even though the electricity has been steady, he’s starting to notice other strange occurrences. Namely, it feels like someone is…organizing his home?
He feels crazy even saying it, and he’ll never admit it, but when he comes back from the coffee shop, the quilt that he keeps on the couch for when he’s sleeping is tidier. Sometimes it’s just balled up tighter, with the edges no longer dangling on the floor, but twice now he’s found it folded neatly and laying over one arm of the couch. It’s something he’s never bothered to do so he knows he didn’t just forget about folding it before leaving.
He leaves his dirty breakfast dish in the sink one day when he’s running late to work and comes back to it washed and set to the side.
His stack of unpaid bills he’d left piled messily on the kitchen counter are neatly arranged when he returns from the library one night, and the bills that need to be paid soonest are stacked on top.
When he was in grade school, he lived for half a year in America. From what he remembers, he enjoyed it. He’d picked up the language quickly so it had been easy to make a few American friends and to play baseball in empty grassy fields when school let out. He’d loved the food, especially the street tacos that could be easily found for cheap from the numerous food trucks throughout the city.
His parents had also let him borrow some American movies from a local movie rental place. He remembers one movie, Casper, about a friendly ghost haunting an old mansion. He doesn’t remember much about the movie other than it was silly fun, but for some reason, the idea of a friendly ghost has been playing through his mind the past few days.
It’s a stupid idea. It’s honestly a crazy idea. The ghost in the movie haunted a whole mansion, his rundown little house is more like a shack than anything else. Why would a ghost be here? His old apartment was bigger than the house he’s currently living in.
But as he stares down his shoes that he knows he kicked off haphazardly when he returned home late last night, too tired from applying to too many jobs to care where they landed, that are now neatly laid side by side against the wall, out of the way of anyone entering or exiting his home, he the idea maybe isn’t quite that crazy after all.
He’s been living in the house for close to six weeks when he finally meets the intruder.
It’s late, but Seungmin doesn’t have to work the next morning so he’s still up, curled at one end of the couch, reading his newest romance from the library. A bit of movement catches his eye, so he looks up, and his heart nearly explodes out of his chest.
Sitting on the other end of the couch, staring at him, is a boy.
Seungmin’s heard of fight or flight, the common reactions to intense fear. He does neither though. Instead, he freezes. He freezes so hard it feels like his lungs actually stop working for a moment.
He stares at the stranger, mouth agape, eyes wide, trying to understand exactly what he’s seeing. He knows, he knows, there was no one sitting there just a few minutes ago. And he knows that he would have noticed someone walking into the room and sitting on the couch next to him.
So the other boy being there now, it isn’t possible. It defies the laws of physics or something.
But the boy is there. He’s sitting, legs crossed in front of him and hands cradled in his lap, and he’s watching Seungmin intensely.
“Hurph ru,” Seungmin says, intelligently. He clears his throat and tries again. “Who are you?”
His voice is barely above a whisper, and it cracks when he speaks, his throat tight with fear
The boy’s eyes widen. “Can you see me?”
And of course Seungmin can see him. He’s literally less than a meter from him right now. Does this intruder think Seungmin is stupid?
“Yes,” he says. He tries to make his tone firm. An I’m not afraid of you tone. It probably doesn’t come across like he wants though. And even if it does, his hands have started shaking badly enough the pages of his books are trembling.
The boy smiles suddenly, and it’s actually a very beautiful smile. Wide and genuine. A sunny smile. If Seungmin hadn’t been quaking in fear, he would’ve blushed. “How wonderful!” he says.
“What?” Seungmin says dumbly.
“I think you are the first to see me!” The boy is still smiling, and for someone who broke into Seungmin’s house and is probably planning to rob or murder him, he’s awfully cheerful. He’s leaning forward eagerly now, looking closely at Seungmin’s face. Seungmin has no idea what he’s looking for, or what he’s seeing.
“You’re literally in my home sitting next to me, why wouldn’t I be able to see you?” He wants to bite his tongue off. Why is he trying to rile up the intruder who broke into his home and is probably plotting to murder him?
The boy cocks his head and considers. “To be truthful, I lived here first. And also to be truthful, I have been here since you moved in and you did not see me.”
“What?” He sounds like a broken record, but what??
“My name is Lee Yongbok,” the boy - Yongbok - says.
Seungmin blinks, because ok. Weird name. But everything right now is weird so he rolls with it.
“Okaaaaay,” he says slowly. “Why are you in my house Yongbok?”
“My memory…” Yongbok trails off and waves a hand vaguely, as if searching for a word that isn’t there, “but I think I am a ghost.”
Nope. Seungmin did not hear that correctly. He breathes deep. “You’re fucking with me.”
Yongbok frowns. “I do not understand.”
“Ghosts aren’t real. You,” he points at Yongbok, “broke into my house, and I don’t know what you’re planning, but I’m armed and I can fight.” He can’t. He’s still sitting on the couch, legs tucked under him, romance novel on his lap. The best he can do is throw his book and Yongbok and run.
Yongbok seems to agree with his internal monologue, as he only raises an eyebrow and smiles again. “I do not doubt you, but I am also telling the truth.”
Seungmin knows he’s in danger. There’s someone in his house, very close to him, with some sort of crazy breaking and entering skillset, and the best thing he can do is get away before he can get hurt. That’s what they always tell you to do. So he follows the plan. He throws his book at Yongbok’s head and tenses, preparing to bolt the moment it strikes.
The book goes through Yongbok’s head.
Seungmin didn’t miss. He sees the book hit Yongbok’s face. It hits right between Yongbok’s eyes, and then Yongbok’s entire being distorts a tiny bit as the book passes right through him, landing on the floor near the hallway. Behind Yongbok. Because the stupid book had gone through Yongbok’s head.
“That was a bit rude,” Yongbok says, glancing over at where the book now rests.
“What. The fuck?” Seungmin says. And apparently he has no sense of self-preservation, because instead of screaming and running out the front door all the way to Changbin’s house, he leans forward and waves his arm through Yongbok. Yup, definitely through. Because Yongbok is immaterial.
“I told you, I think I am a ghost,” Yongbok says. He smiles a little. It’s a sad smile.
And now that Seungmin looks at him, really looks, Yongbok is incredibly pale. So pale he’s almost monochromatic. There are hints of color, a bit of pink tinting his white lips, a bit of amber in his eyes, but it’s something Seungmin has to search for in order to find. A brief glance would make one think Yongbok had stepped right off the set of an old black and white movie.
In his staring, he can’t help but notice that Yongbok is very, very beautiful. He has large eyes and plump lips, the cut of his cheekbones and jaw would make him look ethereal even without the ghostly pallor his entire being radiates. And it’s hard to tell, but Seungmin thinks his hair might be blond. It’s the same monochromatic tone as the rest of him, but it’s definitely not the normal black most Koreans sport.
Which Seungmin thinks is interesting. If Yongbok really is a ghost (and shit, he might actually be believing Yongbok on that front), then Seungmin wonders when he died. He assumes a long time ago. He has an accent Seungmin can’t place. And Yongbok is such an old name, and he has a way of speaking that’s oddly…formal, Seungmin thinks. It doesn’t sound modern. It’s stiff and far too proper, and Yongbok doesn’t use many honorifics.
Or maybe Seungmin’s the one who should be using honorifics. Yongbok is clearly the elder. Probably by several decades.
Seungmin is no expert in languages or history though. He has no idea how language would have been used one or two hundred years ago. But also, Yongbok is clearly Korean. He looks Korean, his name is Korean…did hair bleach exist back then? He has no idea.
“Ok,” he says finally, settling back against the couch. “Ok, you’re a ghost.”
Maybe he should be freaking out harder than he is. He’s either sitting on the couch with an intruder or a supernatural entity and either seems dangerous when he considers it. But nothing about Yongbok feels dangerous.
“If you’re a ghost, why are you in this house? Did you die here?” He pauses, then tacks on “Yongbok-ssi” and inclines his head a bit, as polite as he can be while slouched on the couch.
Yongbok looks confused at the honorific and the gesture but in the end, he just shrugs. “This is where I woke up.”
“Do you recognize the house?”
Yongbok glances around the room, then shakes his head. “I do not think I’ve seen it before.”
“Ok, then…do you remember your life? When were you born?” Seungmin asks.
At this, Yongbok frowns as his gaze turns inwards. “I don’t recall,” he says. “Why do I not recall?”
Seungmin also frowns. “I don’t know Yongbok-ssi. Can you remember anything from your life? Parents, or siblings, a husband or wife? Friends?”
Yongbok frowns even more deeply. After a moment, he says “I recall a moment of pain. But I don’t recall why.”
“Oh,” Seungmin says. He’s not sure he wants to push this point, because he doesn’t know what Yongbok is remembering, but there’s the possibility it’s his death, and the thought of forcing something to recall their last moment makes him cringe.
Then he considers. Yongbok looks to be about the same age as Seungmin. He wonders, even if Yongbok lived one hundred years with less advanced medicine and technology, how likely is it he would have passed from natural causes in his mid-twenties.
He’s never met someone who might have been murdered in the past.
Yongbok is still focused on Seungmin’s question, still thinking about his past, when his being starts to flicker. It reminds Seungmin of old televisions that relied on antennas, when they lost signal and he’d only be able to see static. Yongbok’s form fades, but there’s a bit of a blurring effect where it was, then he comes back briefly, before fading again.
Seungmin is about to speak up, to grab Yongbok’s attention and yank him out of his thoughts, but then he fades completely. The space where he was is clear. It’s like he was never there at all.
“Yongbok? Yongbok-ssi?” Seungmin asks. There’s no reply.
The house is dark and silent, and despite its spectral resident now being absent, the house is also colder than it was before.
Seungmin bites his lip and stays on the couch, waiting for Yongbok to reappear, but he doesn’t.
Seungmin wakes up with a crick in his neck from his poor sleeping posture. He’d fallen asleep sitting up last night, neck bent painfully to the side. He rubs it absently as he recalls the events from the previous night.
A ghostly apparition in the form of a tragically beautiful man.
As he pulls himself off the couch, preparing to start a pot of coffee before hopping the shower, he tells himself that last night was just a fever dream. There is simply no way he actually talked to a real, live ghost.
Well, not live he supposes. Then he snorts at his own stupid joke.
He takes a quick shower and as he’s pulling out his sole mug from the cupboard, he pauses, then switches to a travel mug for his coffee.
He doesn’t work today. He’s applied for so many second jobs in the past week that he can afford to take the day off.
He fills his coffee mug, grabs his laptop, and heads out the door to the subway station. He has some research at the library to do.
He starts with The Korea Herald, which thankfully the library has in its digital archives. He searches for “Lee Yongbok”, then just “Yongbok”, and finds nothing. He tries searching various forms of “mid-twenty year old man” and “death” but the search is far too broad to be useful. He tries similar searches on The Korean Newspaper Archive with similar results. Yongbok’s name doesn’t bring up anything about the ghost haunting his home, and searching through random deaths of young men would require an entire team of investigators to properly comb through.
He tries a couple Google searches but gets nothing except LinkedIn profiles and random stock images or people who are definitely not his ghost. In a fit of insanity, he tries searching “cute ghost boy haunting my house” which gets him some links to DC Inside and KakaoTalk threads. He skims through them but doesn’t find anything useful to his situation.
He doesn’t even know why he’s so fixated on figuring out who Yongbok was when he was alive. It’s not like knowing about Yongbok’s life is going to help his current situation. What he should be looking into is how to perform an exorcism. What if Yongbok is only nice now, but it’s all a ruse and he goes full demonic and tries to eat Seungmin’s soul or something? And Seungmin is just letting it happen because he’s a sucker for a cute ghost boy?
He thinks Jeongin is Catholic. Maybe he can ask him for a good exorcist recommendation if things start looking dire.
He decides he’ll grab a book on ghosts before he leaves.
In the meantime, he considers Yongbok’s situation some more. He wonders if he died before modern newsprinting became a thing. He asks a librarian how he would go about finding someone when he only had their name, but had no idea when or where they were born, or any details about their life, and is told that he can try their ancestry and genealogy catalog but it’s unlikely he’ll find anything useful.
Seungmin tries it anyway, and is met with the predicted results.
There is, however, a link to the Korean Genealogy Group. He finds their contact information on their page and sends them an email, providing them with the limited information he has, and asks for both help and advice so he can continue to research on his own.
He asks the librarian to help him find any books about the origins of ghosts, or ghost-hunting. And she is a wonderful librarian, because she doesn’t give him any weird or judging looks. She helps him find three books that look useful.
He’s about to head out for the day when he pauses, then walks back to the shelves that contain movies and television shows to borrow. He picks out three movies, an action movie, a historical drama, and a romantic comedy, not sure what might entertain Yongbok the most. He checks them out and then heads home.
It takes two days for Yongbok to reappear. Seungmin is in his kitchen making some eggs and rice for an easy dinner when Yongbok blips back into existence.
Seungmin startles hard enough he drops the chopsticks he was using to stir his eggs on the floor. He shoots Yongbok a mild glare.
“Sorry,” Yongbok says.
“You could at least warn a guy,” Seungmin says as he tosses the dirty chopsticks into the sink and pulls a clean pair out to continue cooking.
Yongbok glances around the room, and then the lights flicker once, twice. “Would that be enough?”
Seungmin pauses, because he’s realizing something that should’ve been glaringly obvious two days ago when Yongbok first appeared.
He points his clean chopsticks at Yongbok. “You,” he says accusingly, “were causing all my electrical issues, weren’t you?”
Yongbok blinks innocently, but Seungmin isn’t fooled. He keeps watching his ghost. Finally, Yongbok’s shoulders raise and lower in an approximation of a sigh, then he nods. “I promise it was not my,” and he does that thing again where it looks like he’s searching his mind for a word that isn’t coming to him. He finally settles on, “intention, but yes. I was only trying to appear to you, but it was hard.”
“But you managed,” Seungmin observes.
“Yes.” Yongbok doesn’t offer more.
Finally, Seungmin sighs. “Do you have better control of it now? Can you leave my electricity alone? I kind of need it for stuff, Yongbok-ssi.” He wonders if Yongbok even knows what electricity is.
Yongbok nods. “I have found the way through,” he says. “It’s easier now.”
Seungmin plates his food and moves to the couch, and Yongbok follows. He doesn’t really walk, Seungmin observes. He imitates the movement of walking, but his legs stretch forward too slowly for how quickly he moves, easily keeping pace with Seungmin. He’s seen moving walkways at airports before. To him, it kind of looks like Yongbok is walking on an invisible one of those.
He watches Yongbok sit on the opposite end of the couch. “How do you do that?” Seungmin asks, gesturing at Yongbok. “Sit there, without falling through?”
Yongbok glances down, and he looks puzzled. “I…do not know. I just do,” he says, shrugging.
“Are there rules to being a ghost? How does it work?”
Yongbok shrugs again. “I just am a ghost. I do not…If there are rules, I do not know them.”
Seungmin eats a few bites of his food, then asks, “Yongbok-ssi, where did you go the other night? You just disappeared on me.”
“I was tired,” Yongbok says. “I cannot…” he searches for a word again. “Be for as long as I want. But I was still here. You could not see me.”
Ok, so, ghosts have a limited amount of stamina and a refractory period. Seungmin guesses it makes as much sense as anything can.
“Can I question you?” Yongbok asks. Seungmin nods. “Why do you call me that?”
“Huh? Yongbok? It’s your name.”
“No, Yongbok is my name. You call me Yongbok-ssi. What does that mean?”
Seungmin blinks. “Oh, it’s just an honorific. Like…a sign of respect I guess?”
“Oh. I have not heard it before,” Yongbok says.
“What honorifics are you familiar with?”
Yongbok shakes his head. “None. I have never heard of them before.”
Seungmin doesn’t say anything, but he does frown at that. While at the library, he did look up when honorifics began being used in language, and the answer was essentially “forever”. Depending on when Yongbok lived, honorifics could definitely be different than what modern Koreans use, but he should be familiar with the idea of them at least.
He desperately wants to know more about Yongbok. About his past, about his existence as a ghost, but he’s not sure how to ask, or if it’s ok to keep pressing.
So instead he changes the topic. “I got you something,” he says, excitedly. Yongbok looks intrigued as Seungmin pulls out the three movies he borrowed from the library. “These are movies. Kind of like…plays I guess. That has been recorded though so you can watch them whenever you want.”
Yongbok looks amused by him trying to explain a movie. He bites his lips, trying to hide a smile.
“Anyways,” Seungmin continues, flustered, “I thought maybe we could watch one? If you’re interested?”
Yongbok nods. “Yes please,” he says. And he really seems to mean it. Up until now, Yongbok has mostly appeared pensive, thoughtful, perhaps mildly bemused. But now he actually looks happy. His smile is large and beaming. He’s attractive regardless, but his smile takes from a human level of beautiful to fucking radiant.
Seungmin has a brief moment where more than anything, he wishes he’d been able to see that smile while Yongbok was still alive. He’s sure that it’s the type of smile that, as cliche as it sounds, would light up the room. He bets it would leave Yongbok’s cheeks red and make his eyes sparkle in amusement.
He lets Yongbok pick out the movie, and he chooses the action movie. He pops it into his laptop and they watch as the hero manages all sorts of amazing feats. He jumps out of airplanes, engages in gun fights during intense car chases, breaks into a high security museum to steal the valuable ancient artifact that’s the key he needs to rescue his damsel in distress. Seungmin expects Yongbok to ask questions about the technology in the movie, but surprisingly he doesn’t. He laughs at jokes that Seungmin expected to go over his head. When the villain threatens to detonate a bomb in the center of the city when the hero doesn’t immediately give in to his demands, Yongbok gasps and puts a hand to his chest like he’s grasping his invisible pearls.
It’s kind of cute.
The only thing Yongbok has him occasionally pause the movie to explain is a translation of a word here or there. When the hero is accused of being a thief, Yongbok doesn’t know the word thief, and Seungmin has to explain it as “a person who takes things they don’t own.” He asks for clarification for the words chase, conference room, artifact and Seungmin does his best to define them (a person who takes things they don’t own, a room to hold meetings, an important historical thing).
Seungmin doesn’t know what to make of the gaps in Yongbok’s knowledge. But he supposes if you exist as a ghost for long enough, you probably pick up some modern knowledge here and there.
It’s late, and Seungmin knows he probably should go to bed, but he wants to talk to Yongbok more. So he asks, “Will it make you too tired if we just talk?”
Yongbok shakes his head. “I do not think so.”
Seungmin smiles. And then they sit there for a bit because honestly, how do you start a conversation with a ghost? “So….you liked the movie?”
Yongbok nods enthusiastically. “I love action movies!” he says.
And what? Now Seungmin is really confused. Yongbok seems incredibly comfortable with something Seungmin had assumed he would be very unfamiliar with. “Oh, what’s your favorite action movie? Maybe the library has it to borrow?”
Yongbok looks excited. “It’s the one where,” he pauses, searching, then starts to look visibly frustrated. Seungmin is about to start guessing random action movies when Yongbok says, in crystal clear English, without a trace of a Korean accent, “I love the Transformers movies. I don’t even think they’re good, but they’re fun, you know?”
Seungmin stares, because what the fuck?
Yongbok continues in English. “And you don’t speak English, do you?” He sounds so sad, and the sadness is tinged with frustration.
But Seungmin does speak English. He’s not perfectly fluent, but he’s nearly so. So he switches to English too. “I do speak English! How do you know English?”