Seven woke with a desperate gasp, his chest heaving as though someone had held a pillow over his face.
Darkness engulfed his vision, and the fog in his mind made him question if he was truly awake.
Sweat dripped from his pale face, which was now as white as paper. Panic crept in. His body felt alien, heavy, and unresponsive, like lead had replaced his limbs.
He shut his eyes tightly, trying to arrange his chaotic thoughts, but the result was an existential migraine.
"Argh..." he groaned, the sound barely escaping his throat.
"Are you okay?"
The voice was familiar, sharp, and tinged with mischief. Seven's nose twitched as the subtle smell of ozone and damp earth wafted in, triggering an all-too-familiar sense of unease.
He moved his eyes, catching the outline of a figure at the edge of his vision—a boy in a red hoodie and black jeans. But it was the aura that was chaotic and surreal, which confirmed who it was.
"Zeph..." Seven muttered through gritted teeth, his breaths shallow.
The boy crouched in front of him, his eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and indifference. "What did you see?"
"Urgh, cut me some slack!" Seven hissed, glaring at the starless night sky.
Zephyr smirked, unfazed. "Why? You're alive, aren't you? Safe, too. Just—"
"God! I—"
"Shhh." Zephyr's expression sharpened as he tilted his head, his attention snapping towards faint footsteps in the distance.
Without warning, he shoved Seven deeper into a patch of tall bushes. Seven winced as the cool leaves brushed against his glistening skin, his breath hitching as a beam of light from a security guard's torch danced mere inches away.
Zephyr, invisible to the human eye, remained perfectly still as the torch swept past. Seven's heart pounded in his chest, but the guard, who was oblivious to their presence, continued on.
When the footsteps faded, Seven exhaled shakily and attempted to move again. His trembling body barely complied, so he gave up, letting the cold grass beneath him soothe his exhaustion.
"What did you feel? Hear? Smell? You must have noticed something."
Zephyr's questions came in rapid succession, his nonchalance infuriating.
Seven ignored him, his gaze unfocused as his mind spiraled. He definitely felt something, and currently, he was seriously considering putting Clairsentience on the top of his most-hated-ability list.
That shock was personal!
It wasn't long before exhaustion claimed him, and his consciousness drifted away.
"You should be wiser, no? Why go around touching things you don't understand? It was a narrow escape...you almost lost yourself in that last one..." Zephyr's voice drifted as he noticed Seven's steady breathing, which hinted that he was fast asleep.
He leaned back, a flicker of disdain crossing his flawless face. He muttered under his breath, "Humans… so fragile. This one especially." He glared at Seven. "If it weren't for this ridiculous divine path, I'd have left him to rot long ago."
He sat down beside Seven, his perfect posture and sharp gaze a stark contrast to the boy's lifeless sprawl.
---
As dawn broke, the soft golden rays of sunlight bathed the garden, illuminating the grass and colorful flowers. Seven stirred, his body feeling less alien now. He groaned as he sat up, brushing stray leaves and dust from his clothes.
'What a great way to start the section!'
Zephyr was already beside him, leaning casually against a tree, his onyx eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Don't start," Seven warned, glaring at him as he dusted himself off.
"Who, me?" Zephyr's lips curved into a sly grin, the kind that screamed trouble. He, on most occasions, always had that on, giving him the appearance of one who always harbored evil intentions in their mind.
'Too bad...'
Seven wished it was just a feeling, but this stubborn ghost did, in fact, always have something bad cooking up in his house upstairs.
Seven ignored him and trudged back toward his dorm, his steps hurried. Zephyr followed, half-jogging to keep pace.
"I heard nothing useful except..." Seven began...
'I'm so going to regret this...'
"Except?" Zephyr asked.
"It's difficult to explain. The electrocution—it felt like I was taking it for someone else..." Pausing to see Zephyr's eyes boring holes into his face. With a scoff, he continued, "There was a guy, right? Sparks were flying, making it hard to focus, his movements were frantic, and...he, I, we got electrocuted."
"Hmm...well, that explains why you're not dead yet. It was preternatural... spiritual" with a smile that showed he was having way too much fun with this than necessary, he added with a smirk, "A guy who got shocked to death...well, that's a new one."
"Can we not do this today? For God's sake, it's been barely a day since I resumed!" Seven muttered, his voice cold. "It's probably nothing we should worry about, so stop imagining problems where there are none and let me have one normal day."
Zephyr snorted. "Normal? You?" His smirk widened.
The two reached Seven's dorm room—B2/14—marked with a weathered plaque. Seven fumbled for his key, unlocked the door, and walked in. The door closed on its own behind him, courtesy of Zephyr.
"Keep leaving doors open like that, and you'll scare off anyone normal enough to tolerate you."
Seven ignored the comment and headed straight to the bathroom. Standing before the mirror, he stared at his pale reflection, imagining how shocking it would be if it stretched out a hand from there to strangle him.
His sunken eyes were proof of his exhaustion, so he proceeded to wash his face first.
Zephyr stood beside him, visible only to Seven through his peripheral vision since he didn't have a reflection.
'I hate all of these,' he thought as he splashed water on his face. "I could choose to remain silent, but that's a huge red glowing YES sign for Zephyr to mess things up...'
Admitting after the thought, "About what I heard..." Seven said, his voice low. "Just a strange hum… a song maybe. It's nothing.
Zephyr's smirk faded for a moment, replaced by an expression of quiet contemplation. Then, as if snapping out of it, his reflection appeared in the mirror, his flawless figure unsettling in its perfection.
He stood tall, a good 6 feet, with long white socks and black Crocs to match his hoodie and jeans shorts.
He was laced with a ridiculous amount of Jewelry, and the faint, strange markings on his body—ones that didn't quite look like tattoos—almost made Seven believe his fictional stories of hell.
Zephyr was someone—or something—in his life Seven couldn't quite comprehend. But if there was one thing he was sure of, it was this: Zephyr was a very vain person. And his past was pitch black.
"Look," Seven said, exasperated. "This is a new school. I don't need your paranoia screwing things up again. Whatever this is, we shouldn't interfere. Let it go."
"..."
Without any reply from him, Seven simply bowed his head to push on, his shoulder slumping in fatigue.
"Evil exists everywhere, Zeph, and it's impossible that we can fight all. Poking it with a short stick is just looking for trouble, let's agree to let things be what they are for once."
"..."
'Okay, silent treatment from Zephyr should forebode an apocalypse-sized disaster.'
"I know it doesn't bother you, but can't you at least try to relate?! What they think about me? Isn't it just my appearance unsettling? I don't always have to prove to them that I'm that freak!!!"
Zephyr tilted his head as he interrupted, his smirk returning. "Who cares what they think? You're different, Seven. You have a purpose, even if you'd rather pretend you don't."
'So calming, heh...' Seven rolled his eyes.
He sighed, exasperated. He knew better than to argue. It was Zephyr after all.
"Urgh! Seven...behind you!" Zephyr said, holding in a laugh.
---
The sound of shuffling feet broke the moment. Seven turned sharply, his breath hitching when he saw a short boy standing awkwardly in the bathroom doorway, his eyes betraying confusion and shock.
The boy stared at Seven, then glanced around the room. Seven froze, realizing the absurdity of talking openly to a ghost.
"Uh… I can explain," Seven started, but the boy's bewildered expression said everything.
Zephyr, of course, found the whole thing hilarious.
---
"Uhh… Hi," the short boy with glasses murmured.
"H-huh?" Seven stammered.
"I saw your luggage yesterday. That's yours, right?" The boy adjusted his glasses.
Seven nodded, forcing a laugh that sounded painfully fake.
"But you weren't here last night. I left for class, came back, and heard voices…"
Seven stiffened. Had he heard him talking to himself?
"Hi... I'm Elias," the boy said.
Seven straightened. "I wasn't feeling well. Stayed at the clinic." He extended a hand. "I'm Seven."
Elias raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, like the number," Seven chuckled, suddenly realizing how short the guy was. He was giving a nerdy vibe, but his keen eyes didn't go unnoticed.
Elias smiled. "Nice to meet you." He shook Seven's hand.
Something shifted—just for a moment. Elias's light brown eyes darkened. His smile stayed, but the energy felt… different.
Elias glanced at Seven's bracelet, his arm prickling with goosebumps, but he said nothing.
"I hope you're better," Elias said. "Today's just orientation. I'll give you a tour later."
Before Seven could respond, Elias was gone.
Seven frowned. Something felt off.
Then, the scent of ozone and wet earth hit his nose.
He had a good guess.