"Listen, how did you explain your absence at school?" Clint asked, laptop in hand. The screen showed the footage of his apartment from a few days ago.
"Huh?" Enega looked at him blankly from behind the wheel.
"You did warn them, right?"
"Classes aren't over yet, so I technically have time," she said, pulling out her phone. "Totally forgot with all this drama."
"Ugh..." Clint sighed heavily, peering into the grainy footage.
He skipped through a few ten-minute chunks until he reached the moment where he had first checked the cameras a month ago. In the video, the ghost was standing directly behind him, moving strangely in place.
The car rolled to a stop in front of Enega's apartment building, but Clint suddenly held up a hand.
"Kill the engine, please..." Clint whispered, leaning his ear toward the laptop speaker. "Do you have headphones?"
"Somewhere in here..." Enega dug around in her bag. "Here."
Clint grabbed them and plugged them into the laptop. The audio cleared up instantly. He could hear the ghost saying something... or singing...
"...ly... I guess I'm lonely," the ghost's deep, bass-heavy voice cut through the static. "You... Earth... loved you..."
"What the hell..." Clint whispered.
He realized with a jolt that while he had been sitting there paralyzed with existential dread, contemplating the last month of his life... the ghost had been dancing behind him, singing a song.
"What is it?" Enega asked, yanking one earbud right out of Clint's ear and pressing it to her own. "I hear something... The tune is familiar. Is he dancing to your music?"
"He was singing along..." Clint replied, staring into space, completely bewildered.
"...Pfft!" Enega snorted. "Bwahahahaha!"
"It's not funny!" Clint grumbled, snatching the earbud back.
He closed the laptop and let out a heavy breath, pushing the car door open. It was approaching noon, yet his body was screaming for sleep. His eyelids felt like they were glued together, and his movements were becoming fluid but chaotic, a strange lag between his brain issuing a command and his body actually following through. It was a weird sensation, disorienting but bearable.
Suddenly, the thought that had been knocking at the back of his skull this whole time finally kicked the door down.
"It's sentient..." Clint whispered breathlessly, staring up at the sky.
"What? Didn't catch that," Enega asked, turning toward him.
"The monster. It's sentient!"
"Well... yeah. He was singing his little songs, right? That means he has at least the rudiments of intelligence," Enega replied with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought you were supposed to be the sharp one."
"I really should have slept..." Clint rubbed the bridge of his nose, trudging toward the apartment building.
"Wait, you didn't sleep?" A note of reproach instantly crept into Enega's voice.
"I caught a nap for maybe two hours. But that was the max, considering, you know... everything." Clint tried to smooth things over.
"You need to sleep more. You're a growing organism, and all that jazz."
Hmm... Kept the lecture short this time. Maybe the 'growing boy' excuse worked.
Sleep was practically a religion to Enega. She strove for the holy grail of 8 hours on weekdays and 10 on weekends.
If, by some INCREDIBLY TERRIBLE twist of fate, she missed her quota, she would nap anywhere and everywhere to make up the deficit.
Unfortunately, she considered it her solemn duty to instill this same habit in Clint.
I think, just this once, I should actually listen to her.
….
A whole week of daily pilgrimages to the same shop finally yielded results. Gen, the grumpy seller from the doll shop, finally agreed to introduce us to his sister.
Originally, the plan was for her to take over his shift so we could meet her in person, but that fell through. Mid-week, it turned out she wasn't planning on coming off sick leave for at least another ten days.
I can't last another week...
We had to show Gen a couple of video clips from the laptop, the ones clearly showing the doll and the monster looming behind it. That finally wiped the look of disdain off his face. He stopped looking at us like we were dirt and finally started taking the problem seriously.
"H-Hello? Is something wrong with the shop?" A lethargic female voice crackled through the phone speaker.
"N-No..." Gen, who usually carried himself with an air of unpleasant superiority, looked noticeably nervous. "S-Sorry to bother you, but there are some people looking for you..."
Before he could finish the sentence, the girl on the other end spat venomously.
"Tell them to go to hell! I told them I already paid everything off!"
"No, no! It's not the debt collectors!"
"Oh... Then who?"
"It's about one of the dolls you sold. I sent you a video file. Watch it and call me back."
"Fine. One sec."
Gen hung up and stared at Enega, who was watching him with an unreadable expression.
"What?" Gen asked, annoyed.
"Nothing. Just thinking about how much people can change..." she replied somewhat absentmindedly, turning away.
They were sitting in the doll shop, right behind the counter where Gen usually conducted his business.
Look who's talking... Clint thought with a smirk, spinning the book keychain in his hand again.
Suddenly, a strange theory popped into his head. It took a moment to connect the dots.
"Hey, Gen. You participate in making the dolls too, right?" Clint asked, turning to him.
"Of course. My sister has to get the fabric from somewhere."
"And how does that connect?.." Enega chimed in.
"I work at a knitwear factory. I take the scraps from there and gift them to Zeri."
Gen and Zeri. Genzeric. Just like the King of the Vandals who sacked Rome. Pfft.
"What's so funny?" Gen bristled, hearing Clint's snort.
"N-Nothing, just remembered a joke. Don't worry about it..." Clint immediately backpedaled, trying to change the subject. "So, uh, do you use your Quirk when you're working with the fabric?"
"Naturally. I imbue it with my Quirk to make it denser," Gen boasted, nose in the air. "I only handle the important orders. Fabric for superhero costumes, for example."