Chapter Text
After a long and arduous search, Atsushi had landed a job. The requirements were lackluster, but the pay was decent, and decent pay meant okay food. He stood in front of the Uzumaki Historical House, a manor-turned-museum- allegedly, many famous personalities had once taken up residence here. Atsushi didn’t know anything about that, but it could be fun to learn a thing or two while dusting antiques and defending heirlooms from curious fingers.
The manor loomed over Atsushi, far more than his orphanage ever had, steady and grand and containing more wealth than he had ever seen in his life. He was momentarily intimidated, feeling as if the grand windows were staring at him, almost as if they were beckoning him to enter. The aggressive opening of equally-as-grand doors snapped Atsushi out of musings, revealing a blonde man decked out in beige.
“Atsushi, right?” The man’s voice was curt, but not unkind, and if Atsushi was being honest, he looked too harried for such a quiet manor.
Awkwardly, Atsushi put on a smile, “Yes sir! I’m the- the new hire,” and he straightened his spine, “are you Kunikida?”
“That would be correct,” the man nodded and cast a glance behind him, as if checking something. Atsushi peered over his shoulder and saw only lights present in the foyer. The elder cleared his throat, and shifted his body to the side to allow Atsushi passage.
“Let’s get you acquainted with the house and your job,” Kunikida said, ushering Atsushi out of the doorway and down the foyer- which alone was bigger than Atsushi’s old apartment, but the Uzumaki Historical House was fancy enough to provide lodging. A plush red carpet provided guidance to three grand sets of stairs, while above them a massive chandelier hung, casting crystalized light across the spacious room. Along the branching stairway, numerous portraits of people from various periods of history dotted the walls.
“I’ll give you a tour, and pay close attention, you’ll need to know the ins-and-outs of this place like a second home,” Kunikida must have noticed Atsushi’s nerves, as his business-like expression softened. “I promise it’s not that bad. And this house has a way of- how did he say it? Teaching you.”
“Teaching me?” Atsushi repeated, perplexed.
His employer patted him on the shoulder, “you’re a good kid, don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine”
Kunikida led Atsushi through a lavish sitting room, the kitchen, the dining room- of which there were apparently two- a pantry with a cramped set of stairs that was apparently for servants, and a small studio without incident. The next room was a sunroom with a gorgeous view of the back garden. Curled up in a patch of sunlight on a worn wooden table was a calico cat. Atsushi thought about petting it, but the cat looked so cozy. He smiled as they passed by, Kunikida prattling on about how some author had philosophized here in the sun.
“Many people died here over the years,” Kunikida continued as they walked into a game room filled with remnants of the past, “some in quite stupid ways, in fact.”
“That seems a bit rude,” Atsushi replied, marvelling at the pool table that seemed to be made with actual velvet, tempted to run his fingers over the well-preserved green covering.
Kunikida’s lips quirked in an unreadable expression as he waved him off, “maybe so. Upstairs is where all the individual exhibits are, and you can learn about the idiots- I mean the historical figures there.” Atsushi nodded slowly at this and the tour continued. By the end of it Atsushi felt that he had inhaled a bucket’s worth of dust and Kunikida gave him free reign with a grocery list of instructions.
“Avoid touching anything, though it doesn't matter as long as you don’t break anything- on that note, do keep the damages to an absolute minimum, make sure everything’s neat and clean, and wipe your shoes off at the door, please. This house is old, the creaking is normal, so don't let that get to you- it’s merely a museum full of dead peoples’ belongings and remnants of their lives. Now, call me if you have any questions or concerns and I’m not here or in the office. The cabin you’re lodging in has plumbing, heat, and electricity that’s free for you to use, but for groceries you’re on your own.” With that and a heartfelt good luck, Kunikida left Atsushi to his first shift as the night caretaker.
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[Uzumaki Historical House, night]
The temperature within the manor dropped with the sun, leaving only the dim, outdated lights as guides. Atsushi had understood this place was a hotspot for sight-seeing, but the sheer amount of people crammed into the doorways seemed absurd to him. Kunikida had left him a note before the end of his own shift, a reminder to look for any stragglers and rearrange anything that may have been touched by visitors. Luckily, the dress code was not strict, allowing him to bundle up in a warm hoodie as he traversed the quiet halls, equipped with a dust cloth that had seen better days and a flashlight for the dark nooks.
The upper floors were an easy sweep, adjusting a frame there and cleaning the knobs here. The sheer amount of stairs seemed to deter many of the visitors, leaving the hallways and bedrooms eerily quiet. The ground floor was home to the most traffic and grabbing hands; flowers missing their heads, china misplaced, books askew, and old carpets drenched with muck. It appeared that the sign proclaiming ‘PLEASE WIPE YOUR SHOES WHEN ENTERING’ had been knocked over. As glad as Atsushi was to not be part of the janitorial crew, he still felt bad at how the already dark carpets darkened more.
Various metallic clangs brought Atsushi’s attention to the kitchen. It was one of the largest rooms, with too many spaces to hide and abysmal lighting- he didn’t even want to think about the pantry’s stairwell.
Taking the flashlight from his pocket, it turned on with an echoing click, lighting up a decent chunk of the room with its LED cone. Atsushi allowed for the beam to travel across the kitchen, stepping further and further in, only to pause when met with the sight of the ceiling rack on top of the kitchen island. A quick raise of the flashlight revealed that it hadn’t come loose from the ceiling, as long chains dangled down and swayed, with rough edges at the end of the links. Resting the flashlight on the counter in front of him, Atsushi retrieved his phone to relay the damages to Kunikida when his eyes met with the cat that definitely wasn’t there before. Its eyes glowed eerily, even within the beam of the flashlight, and it merely stared. Atsushi stared back. The calico yawned, tail flicking like a metronome- a picture of calm. It seemed amused, somehow, in the way its eyes were lidded.
Atsushi would deny the shriek that left his mouth when the cat pounced ‘til the day he died. He tripped over his feet in his panic and stumbled onto his ass, wincing at the harsh impact. With a heaving chest, Atsushi looked around frantically for the cat.
Then he saw it- another figure housed in the beam of his flashlight, much more humanoid than the last. Brown eyes so dark they were nearly black pierced into his soul. Their pale skin seemed to glow and ripple like a reflection on dark water as they raised their arms up, up, up and- Atsushi lurched to the side, watching as a large pot hit the floor mere inches from where he now sat. Ahead of him the figure… pouted? Like it was disappointed to have missed its mark.
“Now that’s no fun~!” Its voice presented itself as cheery, but Atsushi could feel the fear clinging to his bones as the pout morphed into a dead-eyed smile.
He felt like prey, left with no option but to cower in front of a predator. The figure moved closer, head titled in curiosity, before it stood directly in front of the cowering teen. Those blackhole eyes sucked Atsushi in- no matter where his eyes wandered, to the brown curls resting on top, the moles dotting their left cheek- his eyes always snapped back. Slowly it reached a hand out, the air getting colder and colder, until it stopped right in front of his face.
“Boop!”
Atsushi flinched and went cross-eyed as a freezing cold finger poked the tip of his nose. Confused, but no longer faced with certain death, Atsushi looked up at the figure in front of him. The man looked not much older than himself, and seemed considerably taller. The sound of the front doors slamming had a yelp erupting from Atsushi’s mouth, listening to heavy footsteps grow closer and closer.
“You absolute rock-for-brains!” Came Kunikida’s familiar timbre, and Atsushi felt torn- relax over the older’s presence or flinch at the name? The man’s familiar beiges entered the barely-lit kitchen and stomped right past Atsushi on the floor, and right to the other figure in the room.
“Do you listen to nothing I say? Dazai, you bandage squanderer,” Kunikida grasped the man’s shirt, “I told you all to leave him alone. And what do you do? You go and terrorize the poor kid!”
The blond released his grip, letting the brunet drop- no, float- back down to the floor. The pout had returned in full force, leaving Atsushi regretting all previous decisions leading up to this.
The brunet clasped his hands together and leaned forward, “but Kunikida-kun,” each syllable of the man’s name came out in a sing-song voice, “you should’ve seen his face! Like a scared little kitten!” Dark eyes turned to Atsushi, twinkling with mischief.
He looked to Kunikida for help, who merely sighed and pinched his bridge between his fingers.
“Dazai, don’t say it-”
“And he can see me! And Sensei! Wouldn’t it be rude to not introduce everyone else?”
Two pairs of eyes now looked at Atsushi, one amused and the other tired, “ev-everyone else?”
The long shadows created by the flashlight shifted, and another man leaned into the light. Despite wearing a frown, this man provided a caring aura that clashed with the other man- Dazai’s- uncomfortable cold, yet strangely mixed well.
“So he can see us,” the newcomer murmured to himself. Addressing Atsushi directly, he said, “sorry kid, looks like you have to deal with us.”
Atsushi pulled himself off the ground using the kitchen island, trying to regain some of his dignity. Just as he opened his mouth to respond to the redheaded phantom, out of the chipped quartz countertops popped a fully-painted clown face. Atsushi screeched.
“Welcome!” The clown yelled, a wide, impish yet genuine smile on his face. Fortunately for Atsushi’s mental health, the head was connected to a body, which emerged from the countertop like… well… a clown car.
“Jesus Christ, let me turn the damn lights on,” behind Atsushi, Kunikida stomped away to the kitchen lightswitch.
The kitchen was bathed in the amber glow of warm, old fashioned lighting. The pots and pans gleamed, dark cabinets soaked up the light, and six ghostly faces watched Atsushi curiously. Other than Dazai, the clown, and the kind redhead, there was a caped man in the doorway to the sunroom, and a shorter redhead and a bespectacled man by the pantry. It made Atsushi feel as though he were onstage without a script, the ghosts as his eager audience waiting to be entertained.
“Alright, introductions,” Kunikida seemed on the edge of snapping, “Dazai’s the one who so rudely scared you, the clown is Nikolai, the sensible one is Oda, Ranpo’s in the doorway, Ango and Chuuya are the two creeping by the pantry.”
“I’m not creeping,” the other redhead- Chuuya- snapped.
“O-okay…” Atsushi awkwardly tried to smile, “so you’re all… ghosts? How?”
“I think Poe’s gothic charm put such a damper on the house that it started making ghosts out of the people who die here,” Dazai said helpfully, “keep an eye on the corners!”
“Poe? How many of you are there?” Atsushi dreaded the answer.
“A lot,” Kunikida answered in a flat voice.
At the same time, the one in the doorway- Ranpo- said, “sixteen.”
Atsushi’s mouth fell open. Sixteen ghosts. Uncomfortably close to him, Nikolai sat on the countertop kicking his feet and grinning widely at him. He shuffled closer to Kunikida, hoping that the anger wafting off the man would keep the clown at a distance.
“So,” Ranpo waltzed up to him and blatantly sized him up, “you’re just here to swing a flashlight around and yell at visitors?”
“Um…” Atsushi glanced to Kunikida for guidence, but the man seemed to be in the middle of arguing- albeit unsuccessfully- with Dazai, “basically, yeah…?”
Ranpo scowled, “boring!”
Atsushi, not knowing whether to be offended or not, watched Ranpo turn on his heel and disappear into the sunroom. He ignored Chuuya’s snort.
Kunikida broke out of whatever despair deadlock he had fallen into and clapped like a teacher, “we’re done here, everybody move along and let Atsushi do his job.”
Right… Atsushi thought to himself, feeling like he was in a dream. Nikolai pouted and tipped backwards, falling through the countertop. Chuuya left with a sarcastic ‘good luck’ and the others scattered, some more reluctantly than others. Sixteen ghosts, but I still have a night shift to get through.
The sigh Atsushi let out was long and soulful. He turned back to grab the flashlight and was greeted once again with the sight of the strange calico. It jumped off the counter after a leisurely stretch, and trotted towards the kitchen entry. Atsushi followed. Sixteen ghosts, he could handle that.