Chapter Text
Yosuke stepped in the door of his new apartment and immediately dumped his backpack and duffel bag on the floor. He was wiped. Between the travel, paperwork, getting lost twice (once on the way to the building and again inside the building), and being yelled at by his upstairs neighbor, it had been a hell of a day. What he really wanted to do was unpack his futon and crash for the night, but there were things he had to do first.
He took off his shoes and picked up his suitcase before stepping into the apartment proper. Upon looking around, the first thing he saw in the mostly empty space was a table covered in...
“...paper cranes?”
He leaned down to get a closer look. They were beautiful, made of bright paper in every color and pattern imaginable. Every edge was perfect and crisp. A welcome gift from the previous tenant, maybe?
Suddenly, a soft creeeaak came from behind. He spun around.
“Who's there!?”
The silhouette of a person loomed in one of the internal doorways. For just a split second, the absurd thought flew through his mind that it was a gho—
Ah... Wait. The landlord had mentioned something about a roommate, hadn't he? Yosuke had assumed he was joking based on his tone, but maybe it was true. He relaxed and let out a relieved breath.
“Oh, uh... Sorry for freaking out like that,” he said sheepishly, raising a hand in greeting. “Almost thought you were a ghost for a second there, heh! Not that I really believe in that stuff.”
In the meantime, the door had swung shut behind the new arrival. It was a man who looked to be about Yosuke's age. He was pale with slanted grey eyes, and his hair—also grey—was cut in a stylish mop. He wore a white short-sleeved button-up with the collar half-popped and the first button undone, and his black jeans looked clean and comfortable. He had grey socks, and to round it all off, there was a watch on his left wrist. His face expressed surprise as Yosuke continued talking.
“Anyways! It's nice to meet you! I'm Yosuke Hanamura. I guess we're roommates now—”
“You can see me?” the stranger interrupted.
“Uh... What?” Yosuke's stomach began to sink. “You’re just messing with me, right?” He laughed nervously at the lack of a response. “Don't tell me you're... Seriously a ghost, dude.” Still nothing. “H-hey, say something or—”
Without any warning, the stranger approached Yosuke and plunged one arm into his chest. It felt like his lungs were being frozen. More importantly, there was an arm sticking through his body. He screamed—not the most dignified sound he'd ever made, certainly—and stumbled backward, and everything went black.
When he came to, he felt something repeatedly poking him in the stomach. A young man's voice spoke.
“Hey.” He blinked a couple of times, and the voice sounded again. “Are you still alive?” There was a pause, and then, “oh, wow. I didn't think I could actually scare someone to death.”
Yosuke reached out an arm to swat at whoever was there, but all he felt was chilly air. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, then looked around. The table was still there with its dozens of cranes. His bags were still scattered about where he'd left them. No one else was there.
Did I... Fall asleep? He pushed himself back up to his feet and shook his head. I must be more tired than I thought. Maybe I should just go straight to bed.
He walked over to the rolling suitcase that had his futon crammed into it and started to pull on the zipper. As he did, seemingly out of thin air, the grey-haired young man appeared right beside him. Yosuke shrieked and skittered backward into a corner.
“Huh. So you can see me.”
“Y-you— I—” Yosuke sputtered. He realized that he was shaking. “What?!”
“Well,” the ghost(?) said casually, leaning on the suitcase’s extended handle, “most of the time it's just the cranes and the door that creep people out. The low rent is already suspicious, and after the first couple nights of the TV turning on all on its own, people usually pack up and march right back out the door. Sometimes they don't even pack, they just walk out. I can be walking around like this the whole time and no one will bat an eye.”
Yosuke was completely speechless. All he could manage, after another solid twenty seconds of gaping, was another wheezy “what?!”
“Ah, right. I'm Yu Narukami,” the ghost(???) said, holding out a hand. Hell if I'm going to strut out there and shake his hand!
“Y-y-you, so you’re actually... A g-ghost?” Straightening up and squaring his shoulders helped Yosuke feel a little braver, but his feet were still glued to the floor. He gritted his teeth, trying not to tremble.
“I think so.” Narukami... That was his name, right? Yosuke was having trouble paying attention to what the man was saying. Oh, right, he was talking. “I haven't eaten in a year, and I'm fine, apart from the deep sadness of no more steak skewers. There's also the whole invisibility thing. I don't think I've ever met anyone else who can do that.” His tone was completely deadpan.
Somehow, Yosuke felt himself slowly relaxing. The trembling was nearly gone, and his feet seemed to be unstuck. He cautiously took a step forward.
“O-okay...” His voice quavered slightly. “So, uh... Say this is all real, and not a freaky dream. Can I still live here? Or do you have, like... Some ghosty haunting policy about that?”
Narukami’s face now betrayed real shock.
“You still want to stay?”
“Mngh...” Yosuke made a conflicted little grumble. “I mean... The rent is really good, and...” He squinted at the spirit, who was still using his baggage as an armrest. “You don't seem that bad. Just don't, like, I dunno. Do anything too... Spooky. Ghosty. You know.”
“...spooky?” Narukami paused, then snorted. “Fine. I won't.” He looked over at the discarded bags near the door. “Want some help with those?”
“...help?” Yosuke blinked. “I was just going to take out my futon and crash, but... If you're offering...” A ghost, helping him unpack in his new apartment? Add that to the list of firsts.
“Sure,” the spirit shrugged, and started making his way back toward the door. Now that Yosuke looked closer, he could see that Narukami was in fact ever so slightly translucent. He shimmered faintly at the edges as he lifted the duffel bag and hoisted the backpack, and his feet made no sound against the floor on their way back across the room.
“The bedroom is there,” he said, pointing to the doorway he’d come through. “Bathroom is there, right next to it. The kitchen is over there. People usually put their couch and stuff out here.” He lowered his hand. “That's it.”
“Oh. Thanks, uh, Narukami.” It still felt bizarre talking to a ghost.
“We live together now; call me Yu. What's in here, anyway? Rocks?” he was adjusting the backpack on his shoulder, grimacing. “Wait... Do you have any food?”
“Ah, yeah, uh,” Yosuke’s tone was somewhat sheepish. “Cup ramen?”
“There's no kettle,” Yu pointed out drily.
“Oh. Oops. Hehe...”
The grey-haired man dropped the duffel bag and started rummaging around inside.
“...have you ever lived on your own before? This is kind of sad.”
“Yes!” Yosuke cried defensively. “I'll have you know—”
“Where's your toothbrush?” Yu was now digging around in the backpack too. “Towels? Soap? Dishes? This isn't a hotel, it doesn't come with that stuff. What happened to all the things from your last place?”
“The rest of my things are being delivered! I couldn't carry that much with me on the train. I was gonna go and buy soap and stuff tomorrow.”
“And food. How are you storing your clothes? How old are you again?” He held up the single cup of dry ramen. “This is dinner?”
“You're so mean,” Yosuke whined. “And I'm 21! I can take care of myself! Anyway, you're not even alive! What do you know??”
“I was alive, and I could cook my own meals. Something tells me that's not in your skillset.” He pulled a smashed granola bar out of the backpack. “Hey, look. Food.”
“Oh my god. I'm gonna go set up my futon and go to sleep,” Yosuke grumbled, snatching the granola bar from Yu’s ghostly hand. “My phone charging cable should be in there too.” Yu dug a bit more and held out the cord once he’d located it.
Carrying the snack and cable in one hand and toting his suitcase in the other, Yosuke tiredly dragged his feet to the door that Yu had indicated was the bedroom. He pulled it open and stepped into the room, but stopped before closing it behind him. He looked back at Yu, who was now sitting cross-legged on the floor and sorting Yosuke’s things.
“Hey, Yu,” he called out. Yu looked up. “Goodnight.”
The ghost nodded, then went back to untangling a pair of earbuds. Yosuke closed the bedroom door and opened up his suitcase. This was his new home.