Do you believe in ghosts?

You would usually hear this type of question when trying to scare your cousins during a family outing or when you have a sleepover with your closest friends. It’s never asked in a serious tone. Because ghosts don’t exist - or so, what a normal person would think. 

Sadly, nothing about me is normal.

“Let’s get the day over with,” I grunted as I mentally prepared myself to go out.

Putting on my glasses, I carefully adjusted the strap of my bag as I said goodbye to Shiro, my American Shorthair. I tried my best not to make eye contact with the spirit of the well-loved landlord who seemed to not have realised she had passed on the way down from my flat. I don’t need any attention on my first day of university.

“Take care Iori,” her voice whispered out as I passed her. Ducking down, I quickly make my way to the bus station. It hurts me that I can no longer respond to her kind smile. One of the only few people that have ever smiled at me.

My name is Iori, Nakijima Iori. I am currently 18 years old and about to start my first day at Tokyo University, specialising in Management Studies. I moved to Tokyo a couple of weeks ago to start fresh in a new city from Osaka. It was a big move from my little town to this big metropolitan city. Little did I know…

WHY DOES THIS CITY HAVE SO MANY GHOSTS?! I internally yell out as I watch from the corner of my eyes a mutilated spirit jump in front of the moving cars over and over again. I cringed internally as another car went through it, settling myself down in one of the seats at the bus stop.

Waiting for the bus to come may be boring to some people but for me, it’s always a never-ending drama. 

Why do I have no one? The ghost of a crying lady weeps out as she bangs her head against a lamppost, her sliced neck desperately trying to hold her head together.

Let me end my misery! The spirit of a businessman, whose spine seems to be bent at an abnormal angle, screams out as he runs at another passing car.

Mama, where are you? The spirit of a little girl calls out hauntingly as she tries to hold the hand of a random working woman on the phone.

I cringed as the blood on the little girl’s body slowly dripped onto the pavement as she walked closer to me. It looked like her back had been whipped over and over again by something causing the blood to drip everywhere. Mentally sending out a prayer is quickly avert my gaze as she turned my way.

Hey mister, can you see me? A little voice whispered in my ear.

I could see her little shoes paused right in front of me, along with the growing puddle of blood. 

Right at the same time, my bus pulled up. Acting like I didn’t see her, I stood up and walked past her to board the bus, making sure she didn’t see my shivers. It’s always a big problem if they know I can see them.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Where to?” Asked the bus driver.

“Hongo Campus,” I mumbled as I took out my travel card. 

The driver grunted and I nodded my head in thanks before letting the person next to me have their turn. City people are not as friendly as those back in my hometown. Then again, how would I know? I never go out.

Making my way down the bus aisle, I sat down next to a large figure that was dressed in black from head to toe. Settling myself down, I quickly put on my headphones to drown out both the sounds of the living and the dead. 

I took the time on the bus to look out the window of the opposite seat. The bus passed by rows and rows of skyscrapers with swarms of people rushing back and forth to get where they needed to be. Some are on the phone while others lost in their headphones.

Young or old, poor or rich, there’s always a place people are rushing to. This is the only way I can discern who is alive and who is not. The dead never rushes. Spirits are never late for anything.

“Crap!” I heard the bus driver yell out before the bus swerved at a sharp angle to the right, jolting all the passengers out of their seats. I could hear many swears and screams around me.

So lost in thought, I didn’t manage to grab onto anything and closed my eyes, preparing to hit the floor. However, despite keeping myself in the brace position, a minute passed and I didn’t feel any pain.

“That’s weird,” I mumble out to myself, “I am not in pain. Did I gain muscles from moving?”

A little huff of air above me caught my attention and I made eye contact with the most beautiful, golden eyes who looked at me in humour. The stranger that sat beside me had his entire arm around my waist, acting as an anchor to prevent me from falling from the lurch.

“You should be more careful, little one” he murmured gently as he lifted me back onto my seat. My mouth dropped open as I took in the man who had saved me.

Broad shoulders, sharp jawline and legs for miles. The arm that was currently wrapped around me was easily the size of both my legs combined, and I could feel his muscles flexing as he put me back onto my seat. It’s so unfair how god has favourites, I mournfully thought out as I gave him a sheepish smile.

“Thank you,” I murmured shyly, “I would have probably been aching if I had fallen. It would’ve made my day in class terrible.”

“No problem,” the stranger smiled out before we both got distracted by a scream outside of the window.

“Someone call the ambulance, a man has been hit by a bus!”

I gasped out of the man’s arm and scrambled out of my seat to see the commotion along with other passengers on the bus. Ignoring the fact that I would be late for my first class, I watched as many people crowded around a figure in the middle of the street, right in front of the bus that I was in. I wonder if it’s normal for this to happen as many people jumped immediately into action. 

Many people have started taking out their phones to either record or apologise to their workplace for being late. I quickly took out my phone to hopefully email my first lecturer that I would come in late.

“He deserved it!” A sinister voice whispered out next to me, “He deserved to die!”

“How rude, you can’t just-” I gasped out in shock and spun around to scold the speaker. Even if the accident made the person late for work doesn’t mean they have to be rude about it. 

However, before I could realise I was the only person to have reacted to the comment, my head turned to see a gruesome sight. 

The “person” who spoke was a lady who had seen better days. Her hair seemed to have been chopped unevenly, with burnt marks on the edges of her scalp. Her neck and hand had rope burns that were so deep, that any movement she made caused blood to seep through. But, what stopped me was the sight of her eyes. Or should I say the lack of eyes? 

This was not a person. Well, not a living one.

“You can see me?” She whispered out as her eye sockets looked my way.

“Uhm,” I started to harshly breath realising my mistake. Oh no, I am going to be sick.

“YOU CAN SEE ME!” She screamed out and before I knew it her cold hands have wrapped around my throat.

I gasped and clawed at her hand as she tightened her grip on me.

“He deserved to die!” She screamed out and I could smell the decay from her breath, “He needed to die. He told me this was the only way for me to find peace. You won’t get in my way!”

My vision became spotted and I could feel my body struggling to get the air it needed. 

This is it, this is how I die. I inwardly screamed out as my vision swam.

“Oh,” A deep voice hums near my ears, “this is interesting.”

Before I registered the familiar voice, the spirit was pushed away from my body and a warm arm was once again wrapped around my waist. Clutching my throat, I coughed out and weakly looked up at my saviour. 

Amused gold eyes and a playful smirk met my gaze.

“Who knew this mission would let me meet an interesting little cat?” Dark and gorgeous rumbled out.

Cat? I thought as my vision slowly darkened. I am not a cat, you bastard!