"You can help me, can't you?!" A semi-transparent boy—spirit exclaimed, his face glowing with excitement. He leaned closer to the one person he knew could hear him, his wide eyes brimming with hope as he waited for any hint of a reaction.
Bang!
The sharp sound of a locker slamming shut echoed through the hallway, drawing attention.
Students who had been lazily gathering their books now turned toward the source of the noise. Their gazes inevitably lingered on him—an enigmatic figure who always stood out no matter how hard he tried to blend in.
Seven.
It's been two weeks since he resumed, and his plan to appear normal failed so woefully that it hurt.
He was already used to the stares, the whispers, and the unspoken questions that followed him wherever he went.
His unusual appearance was a magnet for curiosity and unease. White hair peeked from beneath his black head warmer, and his cold white eyes swept over the crowd, intentionally skipping over anything he deemed irrelevant.
His expression remained as unreadable as ever, a carefully constructed mask of indifference.
Some looked at him with a mix of awe and wariness, captivated yet hesitant to approach. Others whispered behind their hands, spreading rumors about the strange monochrome boy who always seemed out of place.
"I heard he has a rare disease that makes his hair like that. Even those red streaks are natural!"
"Unbelievable!"
"Someone told me he can read minds!"
"No way, but I swear I've seen him talking to thin air. It's creepy!"
"Shouldn't he be in some kind of special school? You know, for crazy kids?"
Seven ignored them all. Sixteen years of enduring the same routine had dulled his sensitivity to their gossip. It wasn't that he didn't care—he just had bigger problems to deal with.
"I couldn't have made a mistake; you're definitely 'Him.' My twin is resuming today—please, can't you help me?!"
The ghost's voice cut through the murmurs.
"I know this dude isn't ignoring me! Hey, listen to me!"
Seven sighed inwardly, sliding earphones into his ears in an attempt to drown out the ghost's persistent chatter.
Of all his abilities—Clairvoyance, Claircognizance, Clairsentience, and Clairaudience—his ability to hear the dead was the most aggravating. He could block out what he didn't want to see, feel, or know, but the voices were relentless. Meditation helped, but it was far from perfect.
He walked into his classroom and claimed his usual seat at the back. His pale fingers traced the edges of his notebook as he tried to find a moment of peace. For a brief second, the classroom noise dulled, leaving only the sound he longed for—silence.
But peace was fleeting.
A familiar scent brushed past him, and a voice followed.
"You're better than them," the voice said.
Too close! His words crept onto his skin, making his ear itch a little.
Seven didn't need to look to know it was Zephyr.
The ghostly figure perched beside him, his presence as arrogant as ever. Seven's grip on his pen tightened. "Am I, though? They don't even see me as human."
Zephyr said nothing, but his smirk spoke volumes. Seven didn't press further. He straightened in his chair as the teacher entered, a slender woman with a warm smile.
But then, the air shifted. The temperature dropped a few degrees, and Seven's Claircognizance flared. His sharp eyes scanned the room, finally landing on a boy seated at the front. Beside him stood the semi-transparent figure from earlier, his expression somber.
The ghost's eyes met Seven's before he could look away, and in an instant, he was at Seven's desk.
"You can see me, right? Don't lie to me."
Seven clenched his jaw. He couldn't deal with this right now.
"I'm Jason," the ghost continued. "That's my twin, Jacob. I... I died recently. I need you to tell him something—please."
"I'm kinda in the middle of something here..." He said carefully, making sure no one was listening.
"He's right there...it won't take much of your time, I promise."
Seven shifted uncomfortably, whispering under his breath, "I know, okay? But not now. I can't be seen talking to you. Meet me after school."
Jason hesitated, then reluctantly faded away. Seven exhaled in relief, but the tension in the room hadn't dissipated. He glanced around and froze.
Every pair of eyes was on him.
His fingers twitched, checking his head warmer. Still there. Then why was everyone staring?
"Didn't you hear me?" the teacher's voice broke through. "Come up here and solve this problem."
Not wishing to get on the nerves of this seemingly nice teacher, he stood up and walked toward the board.
'Were they always like this, or is it all in my head?' Seven asked, not sure anymore. Noticing that the stares he got were more intense.
Walking up the board to answer the question he had no answer to. He picked up the marker and began scribbling...
"Hey, lock your eyes on him. He's so pale he might disappear if you look away."
"Careful, phantom freak might haunt you if you're too rude..."
Everyone giggled, and he stopped writing for a while. It might not show on his face or body, but the supposed teasing gnawed at his heart, and he swallowed a lump that he didn't know when it gathered in his throat.
'What do they know?! Humph!' he thought to himself, angry that their words still had that much effect on him.
What they were going to dismiss as a joke was, in reality, a fact he couldn't shake off. A reminder of how different he truly was...
Seven didn't respond...he never does because within, he knew they were awfully close to the truth he couldn't share, the truth they don't know, let alone understand.
Facing away from the board so the rest of the class could see the answer he's written...
"Excellent work!" The teacher commended, and ever so slightly, his expression softened.
No one seemed to notice the nascent shimmer as the outline of a figure in a red hoodie appeared beside him. It was Zephyr, unseen but ever-present. He leaned closer with a hint of a smirk playing on his perfect face as he said just to Seven's hearing...
"That's a privilege that they would never enjoy. Don't mind them..."
Appearing like he ignored the voice, he went back to his seat, shadowing a smile. Taking his seat, he prepared to follow the class this time since Jason had listened and decided to leave.
His relief was short-lived, however, when he saw Zephyr sit on the teacher's desk playfully. His head tilted in amusement, and he leaned against it...
*Crash!*
The sharp sound of a ceramic mug shattering into pieces echoed through the room.
Seven leaned deeper into his chair, trying to hide the second-hand embarrassment.
Thankfully, no one noticed the red tone that appeared on his cheeks as he tried not to laugh.
There wasn't a reason why the incident would be tied to him, but still, a few distrusting ones turned to stare in his direction.
Seven didn't have to worry as their head snapped back to the front immediately at the rustling sound of papers scattered everywhere in the classroom.
*Whoosh!*
'Oh no! Zeph let himself go this time..." He thought to himself, his urge to laugh growing by the second.
...but he didn't dare to.
Everyone scampered to help the teacher, whose expression was rather strange with a hint of suspicion in it. Seven decided to help, too, for the sake of not looking too out of place.
With a faint wet earth scent zipping past him...a faint murmur followed suit...
"Hehe, sorry about that..."
Slowly shaking his head with a proud smile, he thought to himself.
'With Zephyr around, peace was a luxury'