CH:03. O-o-of course, I can?

Ryo stared into space—unblinking, barely breathing. Slowly, he lifted a finger to his nose, digging buger around absentmindedly before mumbling, "Huh? What? There's no one here. You're just hungry, Ryota."

Shaking his head, Ryo turned toward the living room, grabbing his younger brother and pulling him toward the bright and noisy kitchen.

"But, oniisan, he said he's cold. He said he drowned in the river."

Ryo ignored his little brother's words. He refused to turn around—he knew what he'd see. He could already smell the sickening stench of a restless spirit, its decayed flesh still waterlogged from being trapped in the river's depths.

"If you don't eat, you'll be the one freezing from hunger," Ryo muttered, dismissing the ghost lingering behind them.

By the time they reached the living room, the spirit had stopped following. Ryo exhaled in relief and carried on as usual, pretending he hadn't just encountered another wandering soul.

The family gathered around the dining table for dinner. Their long, communal mess table wasn't enough to seat everyone, so they split into two groups by age. At the main table sat Reiji—Ryo's father—along with Ryo, Ryosuke, Rin, and their grandmother. The second table, however, was absolute chaos. That was where the younger, wilder siblings ate, with only Rintaro capable of keeping them in check.

"Ryosuke, how's school? Have you bought all your project materials? Have you paid for cram school?" Reiji asked while Rin scooped rice into his bowl.

"It's going well, Otosan. I don't need to buy anything else, and Ryo-ni already gave me money for the last few requirements," Ryosuke replied.

At that, Reiji shifted his gaze to his eldest son, who sat quietly beside him, eating in silence.

Ryo said nothing. This was his least favorite part of the day—the dinner table always came with unwanted conversations, and he despised going back and forth with his father.

"Where did you get the money? Were you working again? Did you go back to... that?" Reiji's voice remained calm, but the weight of his authority pressed down on everyone at the table.

Ryo took a sip of his soup before answering. He had to lie. If he didn't, history would repeat itself, and he didn't want that. He didn't want another fight. He didn't want to see his siblings cry when their father's temper flared.

"No, I just took on a side job delivering newspapers. That's all. I don't have any other work," Ryo said, keeping his head down as he continued eating.

He refused to meet Reiji's eyes. He didn't want to see that look—his father's pity, his silent worry.

"I told you, I can still handle this. Why don't you just focus on your studies? Did you buy our food again?" Reiji asked. Ryo simply nodded.

His father wouldn't get mad if he worked short hours during the day. What would make Reiji furious was if he found out about his other job—the kind of work that most people wouldn't consider normal.

"I appreciate everything you do to help provide for your siblings, but next time, let me take care of it. You're still too young to be working," Reiji said, his tone firm yet weary.

Ryo nodded again, ending the conversation before it dragged on. He wanted to tell his father so much—things his younger siblings confided in him, things he wished he had the courage to say. But he couldn't. He knew how heavy the burdens Reiji had already carried were.

So, instead of speaking, he simply bowed his head and finished his meal. After dinner, he went straight to his room, ready to rest. Or so he thought.

Because sitting in the corner of his bed—right next to his study table—was the drowned ghost. Arms wrapped around his shivering frame, the spirit sat motionless, staring blankly into nothingness.

This wasn't new to Ryo. He had been seeing ghosts for as long as he could remember. They appeared in random places, sometimes even in the most unexpected situations.

He sighed, entered the bathroom, and grabbed his toothbrush. As he brushed his teeth, he kept his gaze on the mirror, casually cleaning every corner of his mouth, completely unfazed.

He bent down to rinse his mouth, and when he straightened up—

The ghost was right behind him.

Ryo choked, accidentally swallowing the water he was gargling. This—this—was the part he still wasn't used to. The sudden jump scares. The way some spirits enjoyed creeping up on him out of nowhere.

"You can see me, can you?"

Ryo coughed, rinsed his mouth again, wiped his face with a towel, and walked out of the bathroom, his expression completely blank.

The ghost followed him, watching him intently.

"Ryo-nii, are you still doing your assignments? Can I turn off the lights now?" Ryosuke asked from the other side of the room. With so many siblings, privacy was a luxury none of them could afford.

"No, go ahead and sleep. I'll turn them off," Ryo replied.

The moment he flipped the switch, he knew one thing for sure—he wasn't getting a good night's sleep tonight.

The air in the room felt heavier. He wasn't sure if the ghost was harmless or something worse. And until he figured that out, he didn't know whether he should drive it away or simply wait for it to leave on its own.

Fighting the ghost would only be a headache. Most of the time, spirits just wandered through their house, aimlessly drifting near the places where they died. But no matter how far they roamed, they would always return to the spot where their life had ended.

So, instead of wasting his energy, Ryo simply lay down on his bed and pulled the blanket over himself.

"Good night, Aniki," Ryosuke mumbled sleepily.

"Good night."

The moment Ryo shut his eyes, he felt it. The unmistakable sensation of someone staring at him. He knew the ghost was leaning over him, its face mere inches away. He could feel the phantom droplets of cold water dripping onto his cheek and eyelids, making him feel like drowning.

Then there was the smell—the sickly stench of rotting flesh soaked in stagnant water. It clung to the air, making his stomach churn. He forced himself to stay still, to keep his expression blank. He wouldn't give this spirit the reaction it wanted.

"Say it. Say that you can see me."

The ghost's breath was rancid, thick with the unbearable stench of decay. If Ryo had a wish at that moment, it would be to pass out from the sheer foulness of its breath. Anything was better than suffering through the stench all night.

But instead of responding, he shut his eyes tighter and willed himself to sleep.

By the time morning came, Ryo groaned, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Damn it... not even two hours of sleep."

The ghost was gone.

"Oniisan! You're gonna be late!" Rintaro's voice echoed from downstairs.

Ryo forced himself up, dragging his exhausted body out of bed. He didn't want to go to school. Not even a little.

The school bell rang just as he slid into his seat, barely making it in time. His hair was a mess, his uniform slightly askew—he looked like he had been caught in a storm.

"I'm so damn tired..." he muttered, his eyes drooping. He was running on nothing but exhaustion, and he already knew he wouldn't absorb a single thing from today's lessons.

Then again, whether he was sleep-deprived or fully awake, nothing ever stuck in his brain. School just wasn't his thing. If only he could win the lottery and skip all of this nonsense.

"Class, I have an announcement."

It was the last period of the day, but Ryo wasn't paying attention. He was slumped over his desk, hiding behind his textbook—which was upside down. At this point, he'd do anything to sneak in a nap.

"Hoshino won't be attending school. Her family doesn't know when she'll wake up after the accident. Her parents are asking for prayers, and if any of you wish to visit, please go to the faculty office for the details," their homeroom teacher announced.

"That's all. Dismissed."

The moment the teacher stepped out, the classroom erupted into hushed whispers. Everyone was buzzing with speculation about Ayame Hoshino—their classmate, a friend to all, and the school's most famous idol trainee.

"I heard she was pushed off the bridge. But was it really that, or did she try to end her own life?" someone asked.

"Why would she kill herself? She's Ayame—popular, wealthy, always smiling. She has tons of friends, and her parents adore her. What reason would she have for something like that?"

"Maybe she never wanted to be an idol in the first place?"

"Or what if it's because of heartbreak?"

"What?! Who in their right mind would break the heart of Ayame Hoshino?"

The chatter grew louder, dragging Ryo out of his drowsy stupor. It was finally time to go home, and his classmates were already packing up, filing out one by one.

Ryo quickly packed up his props for pretending to be a diligent student. In his rush, his eraser slipped from his desk and rolled onto the floor. He reached down to grab it—

Only for someone else to pick it up first.

Ayame Hoshino.

"Ah... Th-thanks," Ryo stammered. Despite being seatmates with Ayame for a while, this was the first time he had ever spoken to her.

She tilted her head. "Huh? Wait... You can see me?"

Ryo frowned. "Huh? O-o-of course, I can?"

He scratched the back of his head. Who wouldn't see a girl as stunning as her?