Chapter Text
Alhaitham never minded the rain. Its rhythmic sound echoed in his ears. He made his way slowly to the bus stop, making sure he was entirely under it before he closed his umbrella, shaking it four times to keep it dry.
He took in a breath of the cold air, feeling it ice his burning lungs.
A rainy city, a walking city.
Alhaitham thought back to his teen years, even his twenties, when he wanted to drive, wanted that freedom, needing to get out of the house to avoid that place. Now he owned a car, of course, but with parking being such a headache it was just easier to take the bus.
A girl glanced at him.
Alhaitham didn’t bother looking at her.
Her name was Nahida.
Alhaitham didn’t know how he knew that—at the time, there was a fog over his mind, and he didn’t question it.
Nahida’s feet didn’t touch the ground as she swung her short legs, sitting on the seats at the bus stop. “Are you excited?”
“No.”
“Hm.”
The rain continued to pour.
It was the type of wet cold that sunk into bones. It didn’t matter how many layers someone wore, they would always shiver.
“Not even if…” Nahida looked up. “Not even if your friend is going to be there?”
“No… I’ve lost most of my friends,” Alhaitham muttered. It wasn’t a depressing sentence. It was fact. “You lose things as you get older. It’s just natural. Don’t look so glum just because of that.”
“You say that, but…” Nahida hummed. “You actually hold on to things quite tightly. Don’t you?”
“Maybe. It’s probably because I’ve lost so much.”
Nahida looked up at the sky, as the rain poured down.
Alhaitham glanced to the side as the bus approached, wincing at the bright light.
Chapter 1
A small, cozy pub was quieter than the others. Alhaitham glanced at the collection of drinks, wings, fries, and he felt as out of place as he did ten years ago. Alhaitham thought it was funny, actually, they had been coming here in their twenties, and now they were in their thirties. It felt like they could afford more food in their twenties, when they barely had dollars to their names.
Alhaitham was sure he could make some commentary on inflation, but decided against it. He just sipped his drink.
“So.” Cyno glanced at him. “How did the meeting go?”
Alhaitham lowered his glass.
Cyno, Tighnari, and Alhaitham—the three of them had gathered like clockwork. It was every Friday, once, when their quad had just become a trio, but over the past few years it became once every two weeks.
Funny, all of them gathered up at a pub, and none of them even drank alcohol.
Alhaitham often wondered if he actually enjoyed spending time with them, or if he was just trying to prove to himself he wasn’t alone ever since a certain man had left his life. “I’m getting promoted.”
Tighnari tilted his head. “Oh?”
Cyno’s eyes narrowed. “Really? I thought you angered them.”
Alhaitham sighed. “I’m being given a Director position.” He took another sip of his drink. “In a part of the government where I can’t make waves. It’s the Ministry of Obscure Phenomena.”
“Wait.” Cyno glanced over. “Where Tighnari works?”
Tighnari’s eyes widened. “Oh… they must really hate you.”
“Hm.” Alhaitham sighed. “Great. A dead-end job in a defunct ministry.”
“Director,” Tighnari repeated. His eyes narrowed, almost playfully. “Don’t tell me… you’re my boss?”
“Director.” Alhaitham’s lips pursed into a line. “They made a job just for me. Apparently it doesn’t matter how many staff you oversee, a director is a director.”
“Apparently.” Tighnari chuckled. “The amount of staff you’ll oversee is one.” He pointed to himself. “Two, if you count yourself.”
Alhaitham muttered something under his breath.
“So…” Cyno eyed Tighnari. “What exactly is obscure phenomena? You’ve been dodging my question about it for years.”
“It’s a waste of time, and government money,” Alhaitham stated firmly. His eyes drifted to Tighnari. “No offence.”
“None taken.” Tighnari looked at Cyno. “We collect records of unexplained events. We’re talking unexplained cases, disappearances, sightings… We organise records for events that don’t fit in any other body of government. It’s an important job, but it doesn’t need a big team.”
“So.” Cyno raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you ask me to help you out sometimes?”
“I ask you to help me out because I’m a single staff member.” Tighnari eyed him. “And also because you’re very good with technology. And oh so handsome.”
Cyno rolled his eyes.
Alhaitham took a deep breath. “At least I’m still contributing to city pension.”
“Oh, don’t mope too hard.” Tighnari offered a gentle smile. “Trust that I will put you to work, boss man.”
Cyno snorted.
Alhaitham shot them both a glare.
The three of them sat there, talking.
Three.
It had been four, once.
──── ⁂ ────
The Sumeru Romanov Foundation. Alhaitham read the plaque above the building before he ducked in under the awning. He closed his umbrella, again shaking it four times. He was early, but it was his first day. It was right to be early on a first day. He opened one of the grand double doors and pushed into the warmth.
He glanced to what seemed like an empty, abandoned front desk.
It looked like there was a layer of dust over it.
Disgusting.
Alhaitham wondered what exactly Tighnari did—Tighnari wasn’t the type to see this as acceptable. He considered (hoped, really) this was a sign that there was actual important work to be done.
Plus, the size of the building…
“Alhaitham?”
Alhaitham glanced over, tensing.
Two blondes stood by the set of open doors.
Alhaitham had seen those two before. He had seen them in all kinds of government meetings, though the two never said much. “Yes.”
He didn’t like them.
The only obscure phenomena is those two. Alhaitham straightened his back. “Aether,” he said firmly, “Lumine.”
Aether offered a soft smile.
Lumine dipped her head. “I believe you already know the other worker here?”
“Yes,” Alhaitham replied.
“Yes,” came Tighnari’s voice.
Alhaitham glanced over.
The double doors of the front entrance led directly to the front desk. On either side of the front desk, two open doorways led to what must have been the archive. Aether and Lumine had been at one open doorway, while Tighnari walked out through the other.
Tighnari had a few raindrops on his fox ears, and Alhaitham noted he must have gotten here only a little before them.
“Alhaitham,” Lumine cut in. “Mister Romanov wanted to thank you.”
“Yeah.” Aether nodded. “We’ve got high hopes for you.”
“Mister Romanov?” Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed. He’d heard the name Sumeru in the government many times, though he wasn’t sure about who composed that group.
“So.” Aether walked over to him. “We’ll leave your proper orientation to the actual expert here. Tighnari’s held down the fort so long on his own.”
“Yes.” Lumine smiled as she offered Alhaitham a business card. “If you need anything else, just ask.”
Alhaitham took the card. He didn’t know why he expected to get some information about them on it, but it was a generic business card with a generic government email address. He watched them leave.
Tighnari waited for the door to properly close. “So those are the creepy twins.”
“They’re here too, apparently”
“So you know them?” Tighnari chuckled. “Yeah… they stop by a couple times a month. They’re nice enough.”
“So who is Mister Romanov?”
“No idea.” Tighnari shook his head. “But his influence keeps this ministry afloat. He donated the building. I imagine he or she honestly has to be fairly powerful to sway the government.”
“Hm.” Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed. “Last year the Ministry of Forestry merged with the Ministry of Mining and the Ministry of Fisheries… This government’s been trimming the fat and making cuts. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m surprised these doors are open.”
“I have a feeling this job is pretty secure.” Tighnari crossed his arms thoughtfully as he glanced over. “Like I said, I don’t think it’s exactly public funding keeping this ministry going.”
“Well.” Alhaitham shrugged. “If my position gets cut, I retain my seniority with the government for one year. I don’t exactly want this job.”
“I know.” Tighnari nodded. “But, honestly, it’s not a bad job either. It’s—”
The door opened again.
Tighnari’s eyes widened. “Commissioner.”
The man had a kind smile as he stepped in, moving some wet hair out of his eyes. “Busy day, Tighnari. Were those the two twins just leaving?”
“Yes.”
“I’m used to being your only visitor.”
Tighnari chuckled. “This is Alhaitham, Director of the Ministry of Obscure Phenomena.”
“Ayato Kamisato.” The man offered his hand. “Police Commissioner.”
Alhaitham shook his hand, shooting Tighnari a curious look.
Ayato turned to Tighnari. “I trust our arrangement will still be honoured?”
“Yes.” Tighnari nodded. “Help yourself.”
“Thank you.” Ayato dipped his head politely. “It was nice meeting you, Alhaitham. However, I have a lot of work to do. If you’ll excuse me…”
Alhaitham watched Ayato leave. He glanced to Tighnari. “What’s that about?”
“Ignore him,” Tighnari waved it off. “I’ve got a long list to go through, so just trust the process.”
“Fine.”
──── ⁂ ────
Alhaitham wouldn’t have admitted it, but he had had a fear earlier in the day: After seeing Ayato, Aether, Lumine, and Tighnari within the first minute of being there, he worried his new job would be dealing with too many people.
It wasn’t.
The archive was, well… it was beautiful, really.
It was almost like a library, and it held the warm silence of one.
Alhaitham couldn’t deny that, even if he didn’t want to be here, his experience as a scribe and his ability to analyse literature and data made this an actual perfect match for his skill set. It wasn’t hard to follow Tighnari’s archival system, and he appreciated the similarities to a library system.
But this place is massive, Alhaitham thought to himself. We could fit hundreds of homeless beds in here. We could fix housing, or stimulate the economy. Or have an actual library that would benefit citizens.
“As for the digital side of our archive,” Tighnari said as he sat on one of the tables (the table, not the chair), “You can access it from the regular government cloud.” He pulled out his laptop. “As much as we try to keep a physical record, our hope is to eventually digitise the entire building. Before I started this job, it was in complete disarray. I’ve done what I can to organise it but… even after a couple years, I’m only one person.”
“Right.” Alhaitham nodded. He noticed some of the papers on one of the disorganised shelves. There was dust collecting on it. “So your process is to use text to speech recordings for everything, and then comb through it to make changes?”
“That’s the way I’ve been doing it, but you are free to do whatever you want. I do find it yields the highest accuracy while taking the least amount of time. Text to speech does need to be manually cleaned up thoroughly, though.”
Alhaitham wasn’t going to argue efficiency with Tighnari. Some people could be trusted, after all. He stopped thinking about… all of this. This job.
Alhaitham had bigger dreams than this.
He wanted change—sweeping change.
He had pushed policy both in the economic side of things as well as reform in the Ministry of Education. He had demanded change, and he had won. But winning in the government, actually making life good for citizens, wasn’t always profitable, and the target on his back was going to get him one day.
He had won, and his enemies had found a way to punish him for it.
“I like this job,” Tighnari said quietly. “I know it’s not where you want to be… but…”
Alhaitham tensed. “I’m brooding,” he muttered. “I’ll try not to.” So, he was annoying Tighnari. “I understand.”
And so Alhaitham gave himself to the job.
As the days passed, the stories and statements were annoying him.
“Do we really have to do this?” Alhaitham raised an eyebrow. “She admitted to taking illicit substances, and now she’s describing a hallucination.”
“Process it and move to the next one,” Tighnari said dismissively.
Alhaitham didn’t argue.
The last thing he needed was to annoy one of his only two friends left.
“So.” After a few more days, Alhaitham asked, “What does the Police Commissioner do when he comes here?”
“He comes here to find evidence, or other information around cases he’s working on.” Tighnari was editing a document on his laptop. “It might feel like what we do isn’t important, but he’s connected a lot of our records—specifically around missing people—to open cases.”
“Hm.” Alhaitham nodded. “So why doesn’t he just use the cloud like we do?”
Tighnari stopped typing. “Well.” He turned to Alhaitham. “The server only contains about… ninety? Percent? Of our files…? There are a number of files that can’t exactly be processed. Ayato jokingly calls them Doom Files, which I think is a stupid name, but he can be surprisingly childish when he is comfortable.”
“Why can’t the server process—”
A third voice, “E-Excuse me?”
They both stopped and looked up.
Standing at the open doorway into the archive, with a small shaft of light falling on his blond hair, a man stood, breathing hard, and shivering from the cold.
Alhaitham stared for almost a minute.
Tighnari blinked. “… Kaveh?”
Kaveh’s head snapped to their direction. “Tighna… Haitham.”
Alhaitham felt a shot of ice to his heart, circulation freezing.
Kaveh looked at him with no expression at all.
Alhaitham felt the ripples, how his skin bubbled and burst. “Kaveh.”
Kaveh just blinked.
Tighnari got off the table. “You’re soaking wet, Kaveh.”
“O-Oh, s-sorry!”
“I’ll.” Alhaitham forced himself to stand. “I’ll get you a cup of tea.”
“No, no, it’s fine! It’s—”
“I’ll get you one,” Alhaitham shut him down. “You’re shivering.”
Kaveh wanted to argue, but he looked down at himself and his lips formed a tight line. “Okay…”
──── ⁂ ────
Alhaitham wanted to disappear. He felt like a child again, unwanted in the playground, fighting the urge to hide, to run. Is this how far he had fallen? Kaveh was here. Kaveh was here. Wasn’t Kaveh married? Didn’t he live overseas? Alhaitham tried not to think about when he found out. The call from Kaveh had been so short, so sweet, and it had so, so stung:
“Please don’t come,” Kaveh whispered into the phone receiver years ago. “I’m only inviting you to my wedding because my parents asked me to. But please… Haitham, don’t come.”
And Kaveh was here, now.
“Please don’t come,” Kaveh whispered more, not because he was trying to be hurtful, but because Kaveh always spoke too much, “Of all the people I really don’t want there at my wedding—it’s you, you most of all.”
Alhaitham focused on making the cup of tea.
He brought it out and found where Tighnari and Kaveh were sitting.
This damn building was too big.
Tighnari was talking to him about something or another, and Kaveh was shivering a lot less.
“Here.” Alhaitham put the cup of steaming tea down. Lemon black.
Kaveh must have realised it was his favourite kind of tea by the way his brows softened, eyes relaxing. He slipped his frozen fingers around the hot mug and breathed in the aroma. “Thank you.”
Alhaitham looked at Kaveh.
Kaveh looked like a frozen corpse.
Tighnari got out of his chair silently, making eye contact with Alhaitham before slipping away.
Alhaitham quietly thanked him, but also wanted to beg him to not leave him alone with Kaveh. Alhaitham slowly sat on the chair and looked at Kaveh.
He was older, now.
How long had it been? Five years? Ten?
Kaveh was handsome in a way that made Alhaitham’s chest shake. Beautiful, too. Though Alhaitham didn’t know why he was surprised… Kaveh had always been. Perfect. That’s why Alhaitham had been so adamant that Kaveh should be his first kiss, and what a glorious kiss it had been. But age had refined Kaveh, brought out an elegance to his feature previously hidden by boyish charm.
Kaveh sipped the tea carefully. “Black tea with a slice of lemon.” He looked up. “You remembered.”
You were my world for two decades, Alhaitham didn’t say. “Yes,” he said instead.
“Thank you Hai…” He paused. “Alhaitham.” He bit his lip for a moment. “No. That feels so wrong… I’ll just stick to Haitham.”
Alhaitham felt like a metal grounding rod had been inserted into his spine, and he was waiting for divine punishment in the form of electrocution from above. “Are… you alright?”
“I… had… a strange experience. I searched up everywhere in terms of where to report it, and.” Kaveh looked at Alhaitham, for the first time looked at Alhaitham. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“I’m new.”
“Do you… believe…? In?” Kaveh motioned to their surroundings with his hand. “This?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Kaveh blinked.
“Why?”
“It’s… probably nothing, then.”
Alhaitham knew he probably did a misstep. No, not probably. “You can still make a statement.”
“Have you ever…” Kaveh looked up to Alhaitham. “Have you ever read any statements about this, um? Dripping sound?”
Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed.
Kaveh leaned forward. “I…” He looked down at his tea. “I’m sorry—this is so stupid.” He shook his head. “I haven’t been sleeping, it’s probably just that, so forget all of this. I should go.”
“I thought you lived overseas.”
“I…” Kaveh tensed. “I came back, about a year ago.”
Alhaitham said nothing.
Kaveh looked around. “This place… it’s. Wow.”
Alhaitham followed Kaveh’s gaze. To the old stone that made up the pillars, the smooth finished wood of the bookshelves, the alcoves of the stained glass windows.
“It’s designed in a very old style,” Kaveh explained, “The roofs and the alcoves are very Edwardian, early nineteen hundreds, in how the curves turn into sharp triangles at the top in almost… homey way. But the walls honestly look Palladian—we’re talking mid-seventeen hundreds—in how it feels very rigid, the use of squares, rectangles, pillars. They’re emulating those shapes to work with the library look, rows upon rows of bookshelves, but it’s very modern in how light the use of shapes actually is. It’s also very well insulated. I imagine it’s been built within the past decade.”
Alhaitham let himself drift as Kaveh spoke, hearing Kaveh go on and on about something he loved… the sheer intellect behind the casual sentences. It stirred his chest the way it used to.
“I’m curious who designed this place.”
“I could look into it.”
“It’s.” Kaveh snapped back to reality. “Alright.” He stood up.
Alhaitham stood up as well.
Kaveh’s eyes were soft. “I should go.”
“I… won’t stop you.”
“Okay, good.” Kaveh nodded.
“… Kaveh—”
“Don’t.” Kaveh’s red eyes turned icy. “Don’t bring up what you’re about to bring up.”
Alhaitham swallowed hard.
“We were… we were young.” Kaveh offered a smile. “I don’t want to talk about the past.”
“Okay.”
Kaveh turned away and began to walk.
“Then.” Alhaitham followed. “What brought you here?”
“Please.” Kaveh turned around and brought up both hands gently. “You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you.”
Alhaitham stared at him. “I would believe you.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Kaveh’s eyes narrowed. “You’d call me an airhead or an idiot again. Because that’s what I am, a dumb blond.”
“You’re an architect,” Alhaitham reminded. “You don’t think I didn’t beg my mom to stop sending me pictures of all the wonders you’ve built overseas? You’re brilliant. You understand mathematics and geometry, spatial trigonometry, physics… In seconds you can deduce lengths and angles and—”
“Stop!” Kaveh’s voice echoed in how empty this building was. He was almost startled by the echo (and Alhaitham wondered if his architect mind was jumping at some calculation around how his voice echoed). “Just.” He raised a hand. “Just stop.”
“I…” Alhaitham sighed. “Yes, I dismiss a lot of these cases. I wouldn’t dismiss yours. I promise you.”
“Well.” Kaveh scoffed. “You didn’t keep your last promise, did you?”
Alhaitham’s eyes widened.
Kaveh took a deep breath.
Alhaitham straightened his back and softened his shoulders.
Kaveh bit his lip.
Alhaitham gave a small, curt, turn of his head.
Kaveh breathed. “I’m sorry… that was incredibly cruel. Even. Even for me. Even for us…”
“No.” Alhaitham met his gaze evenly. “I deserved it.”
“Thank you for the tea.” Kaveh looked away.
Alhaitham wanted to ask, Can I see you again? Will I see you again?
“Tell Tighnari I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to him more.”
──── ⁂ ────
Alhaitham avoided Tighnari’s gaze for all of twenty minutes before—
“So?”
Alhaitham felt his shoulder blades lock into place.
“Kaveh.” Tighnari looked around. “Did he make a statement?”
“Tighnari.” Alhaitham turned to face him. “Do… Do you believe this stuff?”
“Not most of it.”
Why? Alhaitham wondered why that answer infuriated him more than a yes or no. “I’m going home early.”
“Wait—”
Alhaitham did not wait—he strode into the night with the only wish of putting his head on his pillow.
He was done for the day.
Even if he knew what kind of dreams would haunt him—
Kaveh’s lips had tasted sweet, once, like underaged drinking and a tender neediness that Alhaitham was more than happy to indulge.
There had been a pride that Alhaitham had felt. A joy. A feeling. He had never paraded it around, but Kaveh was. Kaveh was… A person. His person. A boyfriend. His boyfriend. There was a pride in that, that Alhaitham wasn’t so broken or so antisocial, that he could be loved. He still remembered how Tighnari smiled and Cyno gave congratulations. They were happy for them. Even his mother—
The electric pulse.
An older woman sat in a wheelchair, looking out the window.
Alhaitham stood at the entrance of the room, throat tight.
His mother’s voice was firm, “Leave, Alhaitham.”
It was the crash, the scream.
“Stop it!” Kaveh was shouting. “If that’s your promise, then that’s your promise! But that has nothing to do with me! I don’t love you. Do you get that? I can’t love you. I can’t love you!”
A knife cut flesh, strips of meat, a butcher’s handiwork.
Alhaitham had been bled dry that day, and he had deserved it.
──── ⁂ ────
“Ugh.” Alhaitham had pressed his hand against his face. He had woken up, exhausted. He forced himself to shower, forced himself to dress, and forced himself to go to work. He always had nightmares whenever someone brought up either his mother or Kaveh, so he wasn’t that surprised.
It was just one of those things he had gotten used to.
The Sumeru Romanov Foundation.
Alhaitham paused in front of the building. It wasn’t raining hard, only a drizzle, so he tried to see the building the way Kaveh would see the building. The impressive arches, the use of shapes. Triangles. Squares. His eyes narrowed on it.
And eventually he entered.
“Morning,” Tighnari called, from somewhere in the archive.
Alhaitham passed the dusty front desk and stepped into the archive. It immediately started with steps descending, so he took the time to survey the rows. He certainly had a mountain of files to get through, but he decided to forget that entirely.
He combed through file after file, quickly skimming them.
“Have you ever…” Kaveh looked up to Alhaitham. “Have you ever read any statements about this, um? Dripping sound?”
It was as he was carefully handling an older one, something caught his eye.
“Tighnari.” Alhaitham turned the corner. “This one has follow-up notes on it. Do you have a digital recording of this one done already? It’s not in the system.”
“Hm.” Tighnari did a small stretch before he moved next to Alhaitham, glancing over it. “Oh… I remember this one. It’s one of Ayato’s Doom Files if I recall.”
Alhaitham glanced to Tighnari, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, okay. See.” Tighnari sighed. “I only created the system a couple years ago… but before that, I just didn’t have any way to record it. Certain files tend to mess with technology. Our main computers can’t scan them, and even if we type them up, the files tend to corrupt. The only way I can make it work is by recording the audio file, then typing it up on the computer in the basement. It’s not connected to the cloud.”
Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed. “Why do the files corrupt?”
“I couldn’t tell you.” Tighnari shrugged. “Anyway, if I recall… this one is a decade or so old, but my follow up was about… four? Years ago? I was pretty new, so we didn’t get the basement technology working yet.”
Alhaitham shook his head. “The government is a joke.”
“Yeah, it gets worse.” Tighnari sighed. “But you can just use any analogue recording device to make a digital file. I’ve got a few laying around.”
──── ⁂ ────
One thing Alhaitham did like about this job was how he could always find a place to sit. The tables were clean enough, and the chairs were actually comfortable. He sat down at a table and pulled out the audio recording device Tighnari gave him. If he was being honest, he understood the difference of analogue versus digital on a superficial level but not enough to know why he needed to use this over his phone or laptop.
“Alhaitham, Director of Obscure Phenomena, speaking.” Alhaitham looked over the dates of the file and took a breath. “Begin recording.”
Case of Xingqiu
The Box, Part I
This is the case of a missing person.
This is the case of my best friend.
I’m hoping your branch of the government can help. So… if you can, then please…
──── ⁂ ────
Xingqiu had always liked shiny things, expensive things, weird things. Antiques most of all. He had a fascination for them that he had inherited from his grandmother. There was a need to fill his life with little things—and it had earned him the nickname Little Crow in his family.
A crow going after little trinkets.
It was easy to afford them, obviously, given the wealth of his family.
And then there was—
“Anything specific?” Chongyun nudged him very softly as they wandered the store.
Even then, Xingqiu knew his best friend was his total crush. The way his chest bloomed and felt warm, Xingqiu tried his best to ignore it.
Things were different back then. He originally knew me by a different name when we were younger, but when I proudly declared that I was a boy now Chongyun just said, “Oh. Okay.” There was a simplicity to his response that hit me harder than it should have. I was so ready to go down fighting, ready to convince him, but he just believed me.
Understood me.
Chongyun wasn’t dumb. He played along with everything I wanted—if I wanted to play princes and dragons, or hide and seek, or castle and kings… and if I had a secret spell all along that would solve all the problems, Chongyun would just smile and get excited.
He had a kind heart, a pure heart.
Of course I fell in love with him.
Back then, it felt like the only way forward was Chongyun.
That we would be in each other’s lives forever.
“No,” Xingqiu finally answered. “Let’s just see what we find.”
Chongyun nodded. “Okay.”
Xingqiu continued to walk around the antique shop. Everything was so expensive, and he had a small tingling fear about it. It had been only recently his mom and dad sat him down and explained, in great detail, how Chongyun’s family didn’t have the kind of money they had, and how he shouldn’t try to flaunt it. That money could ruin their friendship.
Xingqiu had bought Chongyun a few things, nothing crazy, but just enough that their little excursions weren’t just self-serving adventures for Xingqiu alone.
Not that Chongyun would have minded; he seemed content in just going along with Xingqiu’s little adventures in the past.
Xingqiu sighed. “It’s the same set of rusted teapots, boring paintings, and weird statues.”
Chongyun was looking at some weirdly bent glass with curiosity, but not interest. “You see anything you like?”
“No.”
“Aww.” Chongyun hummed. He looked around. “What about this ring?”
Xingqiu raised an eyebrow. It was gaudy, ugly. “It’s not really my style.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“It’s your favourite colour though.”
Xingqiu smiled softly. “Yeah, but I don’t like the style.”
Chongyun nodded.
──── ⁂ ────
The two of them had left the store, both of them unable to find anything. They stood under the shade as they both had popsicles. They were no less than thirteen, staring out at the city. Summer vacation.
“You know.” Xingqiu sighed. “I think we’ve officially hit every antique store.”
“Hm.” Chongyun looked up. “Why don’t we go to other places?”
“Like what?”
“Umm.” Chongyun thought about it. “Pawn shops? Garage sales?”
“Oh.” Xingqiu smiled. “Okay. Let’s go.”
──── ⁂ ────
I couldn’t tell you why I was drawn to it, but the minute I saw it… I knew it was trouble.
The dripping sound…
The thing, is… well.
How do I put it into words?
How can I make you understand?
I think everyone wishes they could go back in time, change one specific thing… For me, it was the time my eyes laid upon that box. You don’t know how much I wish I had never seen it.
──── ⁂ ────
Xingqiu stared with wide eyes. It was a garage sale—and not just one of the ones with stuff laid out in the lawn, but one that he could go into the shaded garage to browse the rows of racks and shelves. Xingqiu had noticed it from afar, and when he had gotten closer he fell in love with the intricate patterns.
It was mesmerising.
The small box had been small enough that he could lift it with one hand, but he used two to examine it carefully.
When he brought the box close to his ear…
Drip.
Xingqiu tilted his head. Was there… water inside?
There was segmented wood, which reminded him of treasure chests in his video games, so he assumed there was a way to open it. If he could only…
“Hey.”
Xingqiu jumped, looking over his shoulder.
A teenager, much older than him, stood a few steps away.
Xingqiu noted his bright shock of orange hair. “Hello…”
“You don’t wanna open that, kid.”
Xingqiu raised an eyebrow. If he had a flaw, it would be pride. “Why not?” he challenged. He eyed the orange haired teenager, noting a certain lifelessness in his eyes that felt strange. Cold.
“Just trust me,” the older teen said firmly. “Don’t open that box.”
Xingqiu badly wanted to scoff, laugh, but he felt something twist in his gut.
“I’m serious, kid. Put the box back.”
“Are you threatening me?” Xingqiu glared. “I do what I want.”
“You’re going to regret it, alright?” The teen shifted, and Xingqiu caught sight of a book under his arm. It was orange, almost red, though it seemed to have burn marks all over it.
… Why did that book seem so strange?
And why was it half-burned…?
Xingqiu felt his gut scream at him, so he put the box down.
“Good boy. Now scram, alright?”
Xingqiu ducked his head and ran out the garage. “Chongyun, let’s go.”
“Wait, wait.” Chongyun was holding two Gameboy cartridges. “They have Zelda Seasons and Ages. And she’s only selling them for a few dollars each.”
“Okay.” Xingqiu breathed the fresh air of the outside. “Buy them and let’s go.”
“Huh?”
“Now, please.”
Chongyun’s eyes held a dot of understanding, and he didn’t need to be told twice. He made the purchase swiftly and followed Xingqiu as they walked away from the house. “Hey… Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Xingqiu shivered. “Creepy family. Weird.”
“She didn’t have family? Her mom passed, so she mentioned she was all alone.”
“So…” Xingqiu look back. “Who was that weird guy, then?”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
──── ⁂ ────
I tried to keep that box out of my mind, but I couldn’t.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
It tapped into my mind. I remember trying to distract myself. Like a brat, I remember even demanding ice cream cake. I screamed for it. My parents got it for me, only because I had never behaved that way before. They asked so many questions, and yet…
Look.
I’m not crazy.
I promised myself I would start my statement this way, but I need you to know that I am not crazy. Yes, I absolutely had a mind for fantasy when I was a child, to play pretend, but I never once was actually disconnected from reality. I was fun, whimsical, but all my mental faculties were there. I promised myself I wouldn’t come here and beg in writing for you to listen to me, but you have to believe me.
It clawed my brain.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
I don’t know why, but I decided I needed to have it.
I went back.
I shouldn’t have.
──── ⁂ ────
“I’m so sorry,” Xingqiu said one day after school. “You had a garage sale a couple weeks ago… and there was this box.”
“A box?” The woman blinked. “I’m sorry, I think I must have sold it.”
“It had this spiraling pattern, and it was smooth wood.”
The woman frowned and blinked. “I… don’t recall that box. Where did you find it?”
“It was in the garage, tucked away.”
The two of them both felt strange about it, but they went to her garage and Xingqiu’s heart soared when he laid eyes on it.
“Well.” She blinked. “I don’t know what it is, I’ve never seen it before, so I don’t even know what the price is but—”
“Here.” He pulled out his wallet. “For your time.”
The woman stared at the stack of cash. “Who are you?”
“It is nothing so sinister, ma’am,” he assured, “I just have a very rich father.”
“That’s too much. I couldn’t.”
“I’ve come into your home, and asked for your time. And I’d like to buy the box. So please think nothing of it.” He placed the cash down and took the box, feeling a weight to it. Drip. “Thank you for your time.”
Hours later—
“Xingqiu?” Yelan leaned on the doorway to his room. “What is that?”
“Nothing.” Xingqiu was staring at the box, now laying on his bedroom desk. “Just another thing I bought.”
“I see.” Yelan stepped away. “Don’t stay up too late.”
Xingqiu made an affirmative noise as his fingertips brushed the circular engraving, feeling the ridge of smooth wood.
Drip.
──── ⁂ ────
“Xingqiu?” Chongyun asked gently.
Xingqiu opened his eyes. “Hm?”
Chongyun offered a popsicle. Despite it being early fall, it was still hot. School had started again, and Chongyun always seemed to have his favourite popsicles handy. “You were falling asleep in class.”
“Yeah.” Xingqiu yawned. He took the popsicle and popped it in his mouth.
Chongyun eyed him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well last night.” Xingqiu stretched, completely missing how Chongyun’s eyes darted to the bit of exposed tummy when he stretched his arms back. “Tired.”
“Wanna go to the mall today?”
Xingqiu paused. He knew Chongyun didn’t really care much for the mall—the offer was for him. (Chongyun would really go along with everything… a fatal flaw, in the end). “I might just go home today.”
“Oh… Okay.”
Xingqiu glanced over.
Chongyun was looking at him with a soft intensity. Xingqiu knew full well that some people thought Chongyun was dumb because he was quiet, but he was observant, smart. Xingqiu could see the worry in Chongyun’s eyes growing.
“I’ll be fine, Chongyun.”
Chongyun nodded.
They walked home until they went their separate ways.
Xingqiu gave a little wave from across the street, and Chongyun did the same.
When Xingqiu got home, he forgot about everything else.
He just went to his room and found the box.
He needed to know how to open it. He ran his fingers over every piece of the wooden frame, sure of himself that he would find it. It had slits, so certainly it had been constructed. If it was constructed, it could be deconstructed. Xingqiu was sure of it, he just had to—
“Hey,” Yelan snapped as she playfully yanked his arm.
“Ow!” Xingqiu frowned. “What!?”
“It’s time to go to bed.” She frowned. “Have you even bathed? Did you eat dinner?”
Xingiu just stared dumbly at her. “No…”
Her eyes softened. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, sorry.”
“What is that?” Yelan used her chin to motion to the box.
“It’s a box.”
Yelan’s eyes narrowed, a sigh. “What is it?”
“I don’t know yet.” Xingqiu stood up, ignoring the drip. When had it gotten so late? “I’ll take a quick shower… could you heat up the food for me?”
“Sure.”
──── ⁂ ────
To say I was losing myself is an understatement. The days began to blur as the dripping sound began consuming so many aspects of my life.
I think I knew something was wrong, but it was just a little wrong… just wrong enough that I would notice, but not wrong enough that I knew for sure something was happening.
And then I brought the box to school.
I didn’t remember bringing it, and I spent all day staring at it.
“You’re worrying me,” Chongyun whispered.
“It’s fine,” I begged him to believe. (It wasn’t.)
──── ⁂ ────
It was as Xingqiu was sleeping, face smooshed into the blanket, in the dead of dark, that the box clicked.
Slowly, the spiral pattern at the top began to turn, only fractions of an angle at a time, until at last the second click happened.
Something pushed the spiral top up, and it gently slid along the top of the box.
It was only then that it slipped out, pale and boney, a white hand.
Without fingernails, it was hard to tell which part of the hand was up and which was down.
The hand stretched out, more of the arm coming out of the box as it reached out in an exploration.
A blue fog began to spill out onto the floor, slowly filling the room.
The hand curled, boney and spindly, twisting both backwards and forwards, until it moved, it reached.
Xingqiu, asleep, shifted slightly but he couldn’t see it.
But when the hand gently touched his shoulder—
Xingqiu opened his eyes, breathing stopped, facing away from whatever was touching him, his eyes bulged. Everything in him screamed look, look, look and yet he kept his back to the thing touching him.
The hand danced along his shoulder, moving until it touched his neck.
Xingqiu’s eyes bulged and he held his breath.
Drip.
Drip.
Dri—
“Xingqiu!” Yelan’s voice called from down the hall.
Xingqiu shut his eyes.
Loud footsteps approached.
“What is this!?” Yelan waved something around. “There’s smoke? Smog? Where is it coming from?”
Xingqiu finally breathed and looked back.
The box, perfectly sealed, stared back at him.
“Xingqiu?”
“I-I…” He looked at her. “I d-don’t know – where is it coming from?”
“I don’t know.” Yelan sighed. She walked into his room and moved to the far side. “I’m just going to open all the windows and change the air. It’s everywhere in the house.”
Xingqiu just nodded.
When she finally left.
Xingqiu sat up and stared at the box.
That box, he thought to himself, that box will be the death of me. He felt it so true that it must have been truth itself.
How wrong he was.
──── ⁂ ────
“You brought it to school? Again?” Chongyun grabbed Xingqiu’s wrist. “Seriously?”
“What!?” Xingqiu spun around to see the box in his locker. “No! No I didn’t!” He grabbed the box and, only having half a mind to check if there was someone below, threw it over the balcony to the first floor.
A few students turned to face him.
Chongyun breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s broken…”
Xingqiu stared at the rubble. “There was nothing inside…”
Chongyun eyed him. “Can we talk about this?”
“It’s done.” Xingqiu’s shoulders softened. He turned to Chongyun and pulled him into a hug. Something they hadn’t done in years—being thirteen two boys weren’t supposed to hug. He didn’t give a shit.
Chongyun squeezed him. “O-Okay, let’s just. Go somewhere else.”
People were staring, for a different reason this time.
“S-Sure.”
“I’m really worried about you,” Chongyun said as he pulled Xingqiu into one of the stairwells that were barely used.
“I know.” Xingqiu leaned on him. He nuzzled Chongyun’s neck and took in a deep inhale. That scent. Cor Lapis—the trace of clean stone, like salt. Xingqiu breathed Chongyun’s in and he relaxed. “I’m sorry. It’s over now.”
“Yeah.” Chongyun smiled. “That thing was…”
“Fucked up.”
Chongyun gasped at the language.
Xingqiu laughed. “C’mon, we got science next.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
It was as Xingqiu entered the room, his eyes turned to the long benches where he usually took his seat.
The box lay there, intact, waiting for him.
Looking at him.
Xingqiu felt his gut squeeze.
Drip.
──── ⁂ ────
Xingqiu and Chongyun had tried everything from throwing it in a dumpster to hitting it. It took a considerable amount of force to shatter the box, but they did. Several times. Xingqiu let out a roar as he threw it into a nearby river.
Chongyun breathed a sigh of relief and turned around. “Xingqiu…”
Xingqiu turned around as well. “Fuck!”
It didn’t matter what they did—
“Chongyun…” Xingqiu breathed hard. “I’m scared. I’m pretty sure it tried to grab me last night!”
“Okay, uh.” Chongyun took a deep breath. “Stay with me tonight.”
“What?”
“Like a sleepover—we used to do it all the time when we were kids, right?”
Xingqiu thought about it. “Okay. I don’t. I don’t want to be alone. Let me call my sister.” He quickly dialed Yelan’s number to ask for permission.
He would spend the rest of his life wondering what would happen if she had said no.
Soon enough, Xingqiu was in Chongyun’s house. He had taken a shower and had been given some of Chongyun’s spare clothes to wear. The box had yet to make a reappearance, so he breathed in the scent of Chongyun’s clothes and felt a sense of calm.
Maybe they could figure it out.
Their clothes were, honestly, the same size, but Xingqiu was at the age where he was making a big deal out of tucking his hand in the sleeves and pretending Chongyun was so much bigger and he was so small and all that jazz.
Drip.
Chongyun had just changed when he tensed. “Xingqiu.”
“Yeah?”
“I… I heard it too, that time.”
Xingqiu’s eyes widened. “No, please…”
Chongyun looked around, and that’s when Xingqiu noticed it.
The blue fog was starting to surround them.
Xingqiu’s eyes widened. “Chongyun.”
Chongyun turned.
They could barely see the white hand reaching through the fog.
And, Chongyun, not knowing what else to do, punched what could have been its wrist.
Xingqiu’s jaw dropped. “Ch-Chongyun, y-you!”
“I!” Chongyun watched that hand waver before it reached for him. He stepped back and grabbed Xingqiu’s wrist. “Mom! Dad!”
They ran through the small house, up the stairs.
“Mom!?” Chongyun called out, “Dad!?”
Drip.
Chongyun looked at Xingqiu.
Drip.
Xingqiu looked at Chongyun.
Drip.
“It wants you,” Chongyun explained.
Xingqiu was halfway through, “What does that—”
Chongyun was already screaming something.
Xingqiu felt how cold that hand was, grabbing the back of his neck, and when he was yanked, he screamed.
Chongyun was running after him, but Xingqiu couldn’t focus on that.
Xingqiu was dragged along the floor, screaming, as he saw the box, and the hand was reaching out of it. Xingqiu used his nails and tried to beat at the hand grabbing him. “Let go!”
The hand let go for only a second but yanked his hair instead.
“Ah!” Xingqiu howled, momentarily blinded by pain before the hand began to pull him into the box. As he was pulled in, he could see the whirring gears so close to his eyes he swore it scratched him. It was like being fabric pulled into a tight ring, a filtration system, and soon Xingqiu was hanging upside down and all he could see was a massive expanse.
A deep purple looking back at him.
Xingqiu stared as the blood rushed to his head.
“Let him go!” Chongyun was shouting, and then Xingqiu felt himself being pulled.
Xingqiu couldn’t breathe, couldn’t understand anything, even as the sound of Chongyun slamming the box and dragging him out got louder.
“Xingqiu! I got you! I got you!” Chongyun had red running down the side of his head.
Xingqiu didn’t know what he missed, but he was finally out.
Chongyun kicked the box and it spun several times, long arm getting tangled in the process. “We have to hide!”
“Wh-Where!?”
“I don’t know!” Chongyun pulled Xingqiu again.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip. Drip.
Drip. Drip. Drip—
“It wants you.” Chongyun opened the small closet in his bedroom and shoved Xingqiu inside.
Xingqiu hit the back of the closet and slid down. “Wait!”
The door slammed shut on him.
“Chongyun?” He slammed his hand on the door. “Chongyun!?”
And there was no response.
For all his games, of princes and dragons, of hide and seek, of castle and kings, Xingqiu was frozen, staring in the dark at the door.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
“H-Hey!” Xingqiu howled. He punched the door, over and over, and tried the handle again and again. “Let me out! Chongyun! Chongyun!”
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
“Chongyun!”
“You had your turn, Xingqiu.”
Xingqiu froze.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
For hours, I screamed and cried and shoved the door. I tore the skin on my hands, my palms and my knuckles, beating that door, unable to do anything. In the dark, I screamed and fought, until I couldn’t anymore.
Chongyun’s parents found me in the morning, hiding in the closet, bleeding hands, crying in my sleep.
And Chongyun…
Chongyun was just…
Gone.
I…
I don’t know.
Some parts of that timeline feel.. fuzzy to me. I know the police questioned me, extensively. I think one of the officers even thought I was the culprit… but, especially as years passed, I convinced them of my innocence eventually.
I still remember… trying to process what I lost… and those eyes judging me, as if I had the capacity to do something like this…
And yet I can’t blame them…
Nothing in the police report makes any sense.
But years did pass, and I guess my distress was enough to convince them of my innocence.
But if I’m being honest, I never told anyone the full story. I don’t think they would have believed me. But I have so many questions, and I need answers. Is he out there somewhere? Or did my actions… my obsession… did they truly take him from me?
Do you know what it’s like to lose your other half?
Do you know what it’s like to have every memory of your childhood coloured by a person who doesn’t exist anymore?
And to know,
To know, deep down…
You were the one capable of it, responsible for it.
If you have any answers, I need them.
I miss him.
Alhaitham’s jaw tightened as he put the paper down. The handwriting itself seemed calm, but there were old spots, tear stains, that still crinkled the page even a decade later.
Alhaitham took a breath.
He let himself think for a moment.
Even if that moment was a silent thirty minutes.
Do you know what it’s like to lose your other half?
“Alhaitham?”
Alhaitham glanced over.
“Are you okay…?” Tighnari approached cautiously. “I know what it’s like to read a bad one.”
“So… this is the job, then.”
“Yeah. It can be hard but—”
“What…” Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed. “What garbage.”
Tighnari stared at him. “Well I understand you don’t believe—”
“But…” Alhaitham stared at the page.
Do you know what it’s like to lose your other half?
Alhaitham remembered the way Kaveh’s lips tasted.
Do you know what it’s like to have every memory of your childhood coloured by a person who doesn’t exist anymore?
Each new book, new game, new day, having someone to share it with…
Alhaitham’s eyes softened. “But the feeling is real enough, anyway.”
Tighnari stared for a moment, before he offered a smile.
Alhaitham sighed. “What now?”
“Well, if you’re still recording, review the follow-up files.”
Alhaitham grabbed several files. “It says here…” He breathed. “We’re able to confirm a teenage boy named Chongyun went missing thirteen years ago by these police files. Most of the articles protect Xingqiu’s identity, but it corroborates the story that Xingqiu went through extreme distress. It might be a hallucination or something else. What now?”
Tighnari paused the recording. “A file like this, we can get Cyno to look into.”
“Cyno?” Alhaitham looked up. “Why would he look into this?”
“He’s able to… bypass certain government and police restrictions we can’t.” Tighnari smiled. “So I use him.”
“You’re telling me Mister Moral Code illegally helps you?”
“That doesn’t stop him.” Tighnari met Alhaitham’s eyes. “Is that going to stop you?”
“No.”
Tighnari hit record again.
“Xingqiu was contacted again after a few years,” Alhaitham read from the report. “He was finishing high school, but there was nothing more to report. His family asked us not to make any more contact, or they would press charges.”
“Dead end.” Tighnari stopped the recording.
“So, what now?”
“Cyno,” Tighnari repeated. “That, and we use the oldest computer known to man to create a digital file.”
Alhaitham nodded. He looked down at the tear spots on the paper.
He couldn’t help but wonder…
“Have you ever…” Kaveh looked up to Alhaitham. “Have you ever read any statements about this, um? Dripping sound?”
Kaveh…
Was… was Kaveh in trouble?
Alhaitham’s chest tightened.
Would Kaveh disappear like this teen boy…?
“This isn’t real,” he said simply. “There must be a logical reason for it.”
Tighnari said nothing.
“So.” Alhaitham looked at Tighnari. “Show me the old ass computer.”
To Be Continued,
in Case of Mona