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Final Night Cemetery is as quiet and lonely as ever when Illuga and Jahoda step foot past the spiked gates and tread the gravel path towards the gravestones.
"Geez," Jahoda says quietly, rubbing at her arms with her hands. "It's sooo cold. Of course Boss Nef would send me out here at night. I should've brought more layers."
Illuga laughs a little. "We're ghost-hunting. I think that's an activity that only happens at night."
"Ghost-hunting… bah. Like we're gonna find jack shit. One of Nef's clients got too scared being here at night, and now it's my problem?" Jahoda kicks at the rocks beneath her feet.
"Why'd you need me again, if you don't believe in ghosts?" Illuga asks, tilting his head to the side with a teasing grin.
"Because it's a cemetery! At night! I don't have to believe in ghosts to know that it's dangerous to go alone! And if there are ghosts, well… I'd rather someone have my back before I get covered in ectoplasm."
Illuga waves his hand, "Fair enough."
"Besides, you don't believe in them either, do ya?"
"Ehh," Illuga scratches the back of his neck. "Not really? I mean, even if there are ghosts, who's to say they have ill intent?"
"Yeah, right, they could just be chilling," Jahoda laughs.
"Whatever," Illuga replies, "We might as well investigate now that we're here."
"I don't even know what to look for," Jahoda mumbles, "Nef didn't bother to get me any of those cool ghost-hunting gadgets."
The pair begins their investigation regardless, splitting up (but remaining within ear- and eye-shot) and peering around gravestones, acting like they have any idea what they're doing.
As Illuga weaves through the gravestones, he spots something glinting in the grass. He crouches down to take a closer look, identifying the shining object as some sort of hand-held lantern. It's empty, emitting no glow save for the reflection of the moon off its metal body.
He reaches out a hand to touch the cool metal, and before thinking much about it, hefts the lantern off the ground and stuffs it into his bag. With a few adjustments and a new wick, he's sure he can get the abandoned lantern back to shining.
When he and Jahoda reunite on the gravel path, Jahoda shrugs. "Nothing spooky, really. All that moved was, like, a little bunny."
"Mm," Illuga hums, retrieving the lantern from his bag. "I found this," he says, holding it out between them.
"What— Oh, god, Illuga, why would you pick that up?!"
Illuga laughs, "What's the problem? It's a pretty lantern."
"Do not tell me you're bringing it home with you." Jahoda eyes the lantern suspiciously, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I mean, I was planning to fix it up—"
"Illuga! I don't believe in that crap, but even I'm not stupid enough to pick up something that is quite obviously a cursed artifact!"
"You're being contradictory," Illuga says plainly.
"I don't care! If anything in this cemetery is haunted, it's that lantern in your hands." Jahoda shakes her head.
"It's not haunted," Illuga responds, tucking it back away into his bag.
Jahoda huffs, "When you wake up dead tomorrow, I'll be sure to tell your ghost that I told you so."
—
Illuga bikes back to his apartment from the cemetery, the lantern clinking in his bag as he does so. When he gets home, he shrugs the bag off his shoulder and takes out the lantern, laying it on the countertop. He admires it for a moment; it has a solid base, and the spots of rust on the hinges could be easily treated.
Before he takes care of the lantern, though, he should really take care of himself — a shower is definitely in order. He goes about his nightly routine, brushing his teeth and cleaning up in the shower before toweling off and slipping into a pair of pajama pants.
When he emerges from the bathroom, it feels several degrees colder. He blames it on the steam from the shower until he casts a glance towards the living room and sees a man sitting on his couch.
He lets out a sharp screech and slams the bathroom door shut again, mind racing. He's certain he locked the door, so how—?
He bites at his bottom lip. It couldn't be… could it?
He cracks the door open and peers out into the living room. The man is no longer on the couch, which scares Illuga more than he'd expected. He scours the bathroom for anything he can use as a weapon, swiping his hairbrush and holding it above his head. He swallows thickly, pushing the bathroom door fully open and taking a tentative step into the hallway.
If Illuga isn't mistaken, the apartment has become foggy, slightly obscuring his sight, but even so — Illuga sucks in a hard breath as he sees the shape of the man standing in the kitchen, facing away from him. He has a tall stature and long blue hair that flows down his back.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," the man says, turning his head to look back over his shoulder. His yellow eyes pierce through the fog.
"Who are you?" Illuga asks, willing his voice not to shake. "How did you get in?"
"I do believe you brought me here," he says, tilting his head to the side with a grin. He looks pointedly at the lantern that sits on the counter.
"I—" Illuga cuts off, taken aback. He lowers the hairbrush he'd been holding defensively. "The lantern…"
The man — ghost? — nods, not taking his eyes off of Illuga. Illuga feels himself shrink slightly under his gaze; his face is breathtaking, the beauty of his features entirely inhuman.
"What's your name?" Illuga manages to get out.
"I am named Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins," he says, then offers Illuga a soft smile. "You may call me Flins. And your name?"
"Illuga," he says quickly. "Sorry, um, Flins —?"
"Yes?"
He thinks back to the reason they were in the cemetery — one of Nefer's clients had supposedly been scared by the ghosts there. It is in his due diligence, then, to ask Flins a few questions.
"Have you been haunting people at the cemetery?"
Flins smiles. "If my mere presence may be called a 'haunting,' I suppose I have no other choice than to haunt."
Illuga squints at him. "Are there more of you?"
"More of me? My, what a scary thought."
"More ghosts," Illuga reiterates, frustrated, "Are there more ghosts?"
"There are many spirits at the cemetery, but they are lost souls — there is nothing to fear," Flins says calmly, his gaze still unwavering.
Illuga's voice quiets as he inquires: "Is that what you are? A lost soul?"
Flins hums in thought. "Perhaps."
"Perhaps? Could you be any less vague?"
Flins chuckles, a glint in his eyes. "Perhaps."
"You…" Illuga trails off, letting out a long sigh. He then pivots slightly, "Do you want to be returned to the cemetery? I could bring you back." It's not entirely meant to be a threat.
Flins shakes his head. "The change of scenery is quite welcome," he says, casting his gaze across the room.
Illuga's tongue darts out to wet his lips. "So, you're… staying?"
Flins smiles. "As it is, young master… I go wherever the lantern goes."
"Y— Young master?" Illuga chokes out immediately.
"Indeed, you are the current keeper of the lantern, are you not?" Flins eyes flicker between the lantern on the counter and Illuga. "That, for certain, makes you my young master. As long as you are to keep the lantern, then…"
Illuga can't dispel the heat that rises to his face. "And if I get rid of the lantern?"
Flins laughs, light and airy. "I only ask that you dispose of me properly."
Illuga blinks at him, once and then twice. "What do you mean?"
Flins puts a hand to his chest, feigning offense. "Surely, you aren't in such a rush to get rid of me?"
"Are you asking if I'll allow you to haunt me?"
He grins. "Well, will you?"
Illuga bites at the inside of his cheek. Nothing this interesting has happened to him for quite some time. "For now," he says, and Flins grins wider.
—
After he crawls into bed, Illuga takes out his phone to text Jahoda: You were right. Lantern's haunted
Jahoda's response comes within the minute: WHAT?! I just reported to Boss Nef that it was a bust! You couldn't have texted me five minutes sooner??? Also, I told you so
And another seconds later: Oops. I meant to say, are you ok?!
He types out: I'm okay. Don't tell Nefer about the ghost. Thx
After hitting send, he silences his phone and sets it on the side table, ignoring the plethora of messages Jahoda sends after.
—
When he wakes, it is exceptionally colder in his apartment. He usually doesn't mind the cold, but as he pulls the blanket off of himself, he shivers.
Regardless, he sits up and lifts his arms above his head in a stretch. When he opens his eyes again, he jumps — Flins has appeared in the threshold of his room.
"Flins!" he exclaims.
"Did I scare you?" Flins asks, and he sounds almost genuine.
"Wasn't that your goal?" Illuga grumbles under his breath, sliding out of bed.
"I was simply observing you," Flins says earnestly. "The living can be so interesting."
Illuga stares at him. "I was stretching."
"A lost simple pleasure, for me."
Illuga frowns a little, "Sorry, Flins, but how long have you been—"
"Tut-tut," Flins clicks his tongue, "Your eagerness to learn is flattering, but I don't wish to speak of it."
Illuga turns his head away. You get to watch me sleep and I can't ask you a question? He considers pressing, but certainly death is a sore spot for a ghost…
"Tell me something else about yourself, then."
Flins hesitates, then says, "If you insist, young master."
"I do," Illuga replies, walking over but stopping just short of where Flins occupies the threshold.
"Well, for one, I am incorporeal — you can just walk through me."
"That feels rude," Illuga responds, waiting for Flins to vacate his doorway so he can go to the kitchen and make some coffee. Flins does so, following after Illuga to the kitchen. "That didn't count, by the way," Illuga says.
"Strict, are we?" Flins says with a laugh. "All right. I am fond of shiny trinkets, such as gemstones and coins, very much so. If you happen to come across anything of the sort, would you be so kind as to show me?"
"I don't exactly know where I'd come across anything as valuable as that," Illuga admits with a bit of a chuckle, "But if I do, sure, you can see it."
"Oh, it doesn't have to be valuable. Just interesting."
Like a crow, Illuga thinks. He then busies himself with preparing coffee as Flins floats and flickers around the room, the lights flickering with him.
—
After breakfast, Flins watches intently over Illuga's shoulder as he scrubs and polishes the lantern, treating the rust on the hinges with a baking soda paste.
Yes, the lantern is indeed haunted. Still, Illuga's plans have not changed: restoring the lantern to pristine condition is surely pleasing the ghost that resides within it.
"It's been some time since I've been treated with such care," Flins says right into Illuga's ear.
Illuga freezes in place for a moment, then clears his throat and says, "It's really a pretty lantern. It'd be a shame to leave it rusted."
"Mhm," Flins hums, "Unfortunately, I am incapable of any upkeep."
"Leave it to me," Illuga responds, scrubbing away at the lantern.
"How kind of you." Flins hovers ever-so-slightly closer, the chill of his aura seeping into Illuga's skin.
Illuga swallows, his throat tightening. This beautiful, well-mannered ghost may just be his end. He scrubs harder.
When the lantern has been sufficiently restored, Illuga holds it up to the light that streams in through the window and watches the metal gleam. "That should do it, huh?" he says, "Well, save for a new wick."
"That won't be necessary," Flins responds.
Illuga raises an eyebrow, but Flins doesn't answer in words — instead, his form begins to gradually disappear, and inside the lantern flickers a blue flame.
"Sincerest thanks, young master, for restoring my lantern."
"You can— You can speak like that?" Illuga asks, holding the lantern up to his face. Despite the appearance of fire, Illuga feels no heat against his skin.
Soft laughter comes from the lantern. "Indeed, as an apparition, I may take whatever form suits me."
Illuga stares at the flame — at Flins — in awe, watching as the blue flame dances inside the lantern. Carefully, Illuga opens the clasp on the lantern's front panel and reaches into the flame, cupping it in his hand.
It feels cool to the touch, and his heart races as he pulls the flame from the lantern, carressing it in his palms. It flickers brighter where it sits in his hands.
"Young master Illuga," says the flame, before it transforms back into Flins' humanoid appearance, hand hovering just over Illuga's palms, still cold and still beautiful.
Illuga hesitates, his gaze trailing from Flins' hand to his eyes. "Yes?"
Flins' hand drops, phasing through Illuga's own and causing a shiver to run down Illuga's spine. Flins holds Illuga's gaze, opens his mouth as if to say something but decides better of it, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Thank you, again."
"It was no trouble," Illuga replies, tearing his eyes away.
Just then, there's an urgent pounding at Illuga's door.
"Who—?"
"Illuga! I know I said I would tell your ghost that I told you so, but I didn't actually mean it!" Jahoda yells through the door as she continues to knock her fists against the wood. "You better be alive in there! And not possessed!"
Illuga muffles laughter behind his hand before approaching the door. He casts a glance back to Flins, who begins to retreat back into his lantern. Once he is gone from sight, Illuga swings the door open.
"Jahoda, you're going to disturb the neighbors."
"I don't care," Jahoda responds, stepping into Illuga's apartment. "Where's your ghost?"
My ghost, Illuga rolls the words around in his head. My—
"Hellooo? Any ghosties in here?" Jahoda calls, peering around the apartment. "I swear to god, if you're pulling my leg—"
Illuga laughs, "I'm not."
He beckons her to where the lantern sits on the counter, and as he holds it up, a blue flame zips to life inside. "There it is," he says, "It's burning with no wick."
Jahoda looks at the lantern with considerably less awe than Illuga had been beholding it with minutes earlier.
"That's… it? That's your ghost?"
The flame wavers, and then goes out. Within moments, Flins appears behind Jahoda, and Illuga's eyes widen as he stifles his laughter.
"Geez, I'm sure glad I didn't tell Boss Nef about this, 'cuz—"
"Boo," Flins says plainly, and Jahoda nearly jumps out of her skin.
"HOLY—" she exclaims, immediately running to shield herself behind Illuga. She peeks around Illuga after a moment, her eyes wide and hands gripping at Illuga's shoulders. "Um, hi?" she says, her voice small. "Sorry about… um, that. Don't possess me, please."
"I find possession of living beings uncouth," Flins responds, and Illuga feels Jahoda's grip soften, only slightly.
"You're— you're genuinely a ghost, huh? That's kind of… that's really wild," Jahoda yammers, "I didn't believe in ghosts, really, but you… I mean, you just appeared out of thin air, so unless you're a really good magician…"
Flins huffs amusedly, "I'm no magician."
"Okay, cool, so you're a ghost. That's… that's awesome. Um, I think I have to go now."
Jahoda quickly starts for the door, but Illuga grabs her arm. "He means no harm," he says, voice low, "Really, he seems kinda lonely—"
"Of course you would pick up a cursed lantern at the graveyard and fall in love with ghost inside of it," Jahoda says, "Of course you would."
"Fall in l—?!"
Illuga is cut off by his apartment door slamming.
"Should I be worried?" Flins asks as Illuga turns back to him.
Illuga thinks for a moment. "About Jahoda? You scared her, but she's not gonna tell anybody." He hesitates, then continues, "I mean, at worst, she'll tell her boss, but since you're not bothering anyone at the cemetery anymore, I doubt Nefer would do anything about it."
For what seems like the first time since revealing himself, Flins doesn't attempt meet Illuga's eyes, instead looking into the middle-distance with his lips pursed.
"I mean it," Illuga says, "Nefer likes to tease me, but she wouldn't meddle in my business." He stops. "Okay, unless it would make her a lot of money, then she might. But I can't imagine…"
Illuga looks at the lantern, to Flins, and back to the lantern.
"Um, anyway… That's just the worst case scenario. And if anything like that happens, I'll just have to keep you safe, then, right?" Illuga puffs out his chest a bit and offers Flins a smile.
Flins smiles softly in return, and this time, Illuga feels warmth swell.
—
Later, he texts Jahoda: Sorry for the scare. Again, I'd prefer if you didn't tell Nefer
Jahoda responds: Wasn't gonna! Besides, what do you think is gonna happen?? She'll exorcise your ghost boyfriend??
Illuga quickly types "He's not my" but backspaces it and decides to leave her on read.
—
Flins has much curiosity and admiration for the living. It's endearing, mostly, the way he watches with such intensity as Illuga completes mundane tasks like cooking or filing reports for his job. He tends to stay out of the way if he can tell Illuga is busy with something, although he is never far. (He can't be, as the lantern to which he is tethered hangs from a hook Illuga had installed on the wall.)
When Illuga has spare time, though, it is often spent chattering with with that very same ghost. And Flins lights up — quite literally — when Illuga brings him an old amber pendant, holding it to a beam of light, where it casts warm speckled colors against the walls.
"Where did you come across such a treasure?" Flins asks, floating around the gemstone, admiring it from all of its angles.
Illuga swings the pendant a little, "I went to an estate sale looking for… something for you. I know you can't hold it, but I just thought… well, I thought you'd like it."
"I do, very much so," Flins responds, "Amber is fascinating: the nature of its formation, the time it takes to fossilize... I can't help but ponder the lifespan of this pendant, a gleaming remnant of a tree long lost to time…"
Flins seems to trail off, lost in thought. Illuga looks at him, at the slight furrow to his brows.
"Flins?"
"Yes, young master?" Flins' gaze flits from the stone to Illuga.
Illuga hesitates — Flins had immediately shut down such curiosity before, but — "You've been a ghost for a long time, haven't you?"
Flins holds his gaze steady. Illuga lowers the pendant down to his side, holding the cool gem against his palm.
"Indeed, if you would consider half a millennia to be a long time."
Illuga balks.
"That is not to say — well, my dear young master, I was dormant for most of this time. And my, how things have changed." Flins smiles softly, and Illuga's heart beats hard in his chest. "Hold up the amber pendant again, if you will."
Illuga complies, letting the stone drop from his hand and dangle in the light.
"Afterlife — and life, too, in its own way — extends on past the imagination." Flins eyes follow the pendant as it sways back and forth. "What is a millennia to this gem? What is a year to an apparition such as myself? What is a day to you? A minute, or a second, to any of us?"
Illuga's eyes do not stray from Flins' face, which has settled into a serene expression.
"Each moment is fleeting, young master. I may only consider it a stroke of the purest luck that I — in such a state — may spend any moment at all with you."
At a loss for words, Illuga tucks the amber away into his pocket. He can only muster: "You are such a flatterer."
Flins sets a hand on his chest. "If my true feelings come across as flattery, then I sincerely apologize."
"No, I—" Illuga stammers, completely unused to being anyone's object of affection, let alone this phantom's — he is so beautiful, so endearing, so tragic. Illuga's throat feels tight. What he truly wants is to throw his arms around Flins waist, to hold him close.
It is impossible.
The best he can do is lift a hand to Flins' chest and feel the cold space where his heart would be. The chill crawls up his fingers, up his arms, and to his core — he revels in the feeling, as close as he can get to touch.
"You are very warm," Flins murmurs, lifting one his hands to rest atop Illuga's own. "I haven't felt such a warmth in some time. Please, if you will, allow us to linger here…"
Illuga swallows thickly and nods, holding Flins' cool, phantom heart in his palm.
—
Where Illuga had once not minded the cold, he now comes to cherish it. Flins hovers near him as he works on a report for work, and absentmindedly, he leans into the chill, closer to Flins, closer, closer…
The chair rocks to the side and Illuga jerks to catch himself against the desk before he falls.
"My, young master, perhaps you ought to take a break," the ghost says, hiding a knowing grin behind his hand.
"It's almost done," Illuga mumbles, a warm pink blush painted across his cheeks.
"All right," Flins responds, "Though it is imperative that I remind you, as much as I wish I were able, I cannot catch you if you fall."
"Well aware," Illuga says, purposefully directing all his attention to his report, where Flins can't see his face.
Illuga continues to work on the report, though his mind is elsewhere. Flins — yes, as incorporeal as he is — has become a permanent fixture in his apartment and, indeed, in his life. Jahoda teases him for this to no end, though she thinks of any excuse she can not to step foot into Illuga's apartment.
Nefer, when Illuga completes a few odd jobs for her, seems none the wiser of the ghost that resides with him, which Illuga is thankful for. Truthfully, he isn't worried Nefer would do anything to Flins, but if the teasing from Jahoda is bad, then teasing from Nefer would be catastrophic.
Though any teasing he goes through feels worth it when he comes home to a chill, a light fog, and a handsome ghost flitting about in his space.
"Master Illuga?" Flins' voice brings Illuga back to the present — he looks down to see his pen has drawn a line straight off the paper and onto the desk. "Not to press about the break, but…"
Illuga clears his throat. "Okay," he says.
"Is something the matter?" Flins asks, and Illuga turns around to face him, to see his yellow eyes so full of care.
He wilts. "My mind is… caught elsewhere."
"Oh?" Flins tilts his head curiously.
Illuga struggles for words, biting at the inside of his cheek. He pushes away from the desk and stands from his chair. "Flins, I — Ah, well, we haven't known each other long," he says.
Flins stares at him. "Indeed not," he responds.
"Is it strange, then, that I…" He stops, shakes his head. "Of course it's strange."
"What's so strange?" Flins inquires, gaze not leaving Illuga.
Illuga laughs now. "All of it!" he says, still laughing, "A ghost is haunting my apartment, and despite the fact we can't even touch, I…" he trails off, laughter quieting, as he's quite certainly afraid to admit it.
"You…?" Flins prompts.
Illuga crosses his arms over his chest and tucks his chin downwards, embarrassed. "Oh, Flins, certainly you don't need me to spell it out for you."
Flins smiles — close-lipped, knowing, and so beautiful — and he says, "But will you, young master?"
"I must be nothing more than a blip in your long existence. Still, Flins, I'm asking you to stay by my side." Illuga lets out a long breath, eyes flickering from the floor to Flins' face, which softens.
"As long as you are to keep the lantern —"
"No," Illuga interrupts, "Tell me, Flins, do you want to stay?"
Flins continues to stare at him. The chill in the air causes Illuga's hair to stand, and it's intoxicating.
"My Illuga," Flins says, tenderness practically dripping off his immaterial tongue, "I can never provide you what you deserve."
"It doesn't matter," Illuga says sharply, "Do you want to stay?"
Flins replies quickly, "Yes, very much so." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "As long as you will have me."
Illuga staggers towards the phantom, holding his hands up to Flins' chest. He then lowers his head, presses the side of his face against Flins' form, feels the cold bite at his skin.
Oh, how strange it all is. And yet nothing feels more natural than this — Flins hands phase through Illuga's chest to hold his warm, beating heart.
"Haunt me forever," Illuga says, breathless.
"Forever it is, then, my young master."