His heart skipped a few beats. Clutching his leg—? A ghost—the boy who'd died while giving him a blowjob. His ghost was—attached to Elstrin? "You—you mean I'm haunted?" he spluttered. Kana threw him a glare.
"You seem to think it's a parasite. It's not. It's someone's spirit, probably terrified, unable to find its way to whatever afterlife is waiting for it. The least you could do is help it. I'm sure it doesn't enjoy sticking to you either."
"Help? How do I help?"
"It's nothing complicated. Well, actually, now that you're in here it is. You just have to go back to where he died and it'll go away. The only reason why it's still here is because you ran and took it with you before the kid even realised what had happened."
"But I can't go back. We can't leave HQ."
"Hm. Yeah. I can dismiss spirits, the harmless ones, but it's illegal. Black magic. If I do it, you'll be risking both our asses in jail."
Elstrin was pretty sure his jaw dropped. "Who are you?" he asked, stunned.
"A Lupalian kid who grew up in Mernot slums. The epitome of fucked-up cultural diversity.
Look, I just know things you don't. Do you want my help or not? Otherwise that ghost will keep you from enjoying blowjobs for the rest of your life. It's an unusual situation, that's for sure."
"It is," Elstrin agreed shakily. "So—um. Okay. Get rid of it."
"Give it some respect, will you? How would you like to die and find yourself stuck to a guy's dick for eternity?"
He had a point there. Somehow, it looked like Kana had pretty much figured out the story behind Elstrin's trauma, despite the fact that he'd never witnessed any freak-outs—hell, they'd known each other for one week. Kana climbed off his bed and came to join Elstrin, who sat up to make room. Nervous, Elstrin said, "Right now? What if someone's outside?"
"No. I just want to talk to it. Before dawn passes."
"But you said—it's stuck to my—"
Kana rolled his eyes. "Trust me, if I wanted an excuse to stare at your junk, I would've thought of something a lot less disturbing. This is business, okay? And before we start—you tell anyone, I'm going to kill you."
Elstrin believed him. He nodded uncertainly. "What do I do?"
"Lie down and relax." Kana pushed him before he could protest, his hand surprisingly warm despite the room's chill, and Elstrin scrambled away instinctively when Kana just put his palm straight on his thigh. "God, stop moving. I gave you a fucking full-body massage and you didn't complain. Put some pants on if it makes you more comfortable, but hurry up."
"S-sorry." Elstrin quickly yanked his uniform on and lay back down, staring at the ceiling as his brain struggled to make sense of what was happening. Kana hadn't bothered to get dressed, still only in a pair of boxers, bending over Elstrin's leg to run his fingers lightly along his hip. God, this looked and felt so wrong. He gulped and told himself—ghosts. Business. He was not being stupid and falling into an absurd trap set by some crazy sex predator.
"Tell me your name," Kana said suddenly, barely louder than a whisper, his voice intent yet gentle. Elstrin's head snapped up. Kana was looking at something that wasn't there, facing the wall, his fingertips resting on Elstrin's knee.
And then he heard something. It might just have been a noise from outside, but it felt so close. A brief jumble of mutters, some fast, some slow, gone as quickly as they'd began, as if ten people had replied at once quietly. Elstrin thought he heard a name hiding amongst the layers of voices, but he really couldn't be sure. Kana, though, nodded slightly.
"Hello, Max. Please don't be scared. I just want to help."
More muttering, a stream of it, desperate and urgent. Kana listened with a small frown, peering unblinkingly at the space in front of him.
"Okay. It's okay. You can let him see."
The undecipherable speech gave way to what was, unmistakably, quiet sobbing. Something swam in front of Elstrin's eyes, like an afterimage from a camera flash. He blinked hard; it didn't go away. Kana's hand pressed down in warning. A dark streak appeared in the air, faded into pale white, disappeared and came back. Another crossed it, throbbing with monochromatic shades, and slowly they morphed into curves and lines that bled into each other. A boy made of sketchy streams of greyness, scarcely older than fourteen, crouched on the bed, hugging his knees. Elstrin's leg extended through his insubstantial body.
Holy fuck.
Instinct screamed at him to move, kick out, do something, but shock and disbelief just made him freeze and stare. The ghost was dark and smoky, its form flickering out often. It had a hand pressed to its mouth as it cried softly, looking and sounding almost human, and Elstrin felt pity well up inside him. With a jolt, he realised that he recognised the spirit before him—even though the events of that night had been half-erased by his subconscious, muddled by fear, and it had been dark anyway, in a secluded little alleyway where hopefully people wouldn't see two faggots getting it on. He recognised the boy's haircut, the shape of his nose, his hands. He remembered kissing him, hot and hungry, and then a husky laugh in his ear, lips tracing a path down his neck, chest, stomach. Wet, strong mouth on his dick—it had felt great. Pleasure doubled by the thrill of doing what disgusted everyone else, tripled by how rarely it happened. Then came the gunshot and not even a surprised choke before things suddenly got too hot, too sticky, metallic and red. Elstrin had lost his mind a little that night, ran from the scene like the devil was after him. Maybe that was why he'd unknowingly dragged a ghost along with him. He didn't know what had happened, and he was the survivor—how was the dead boy supposed to understand?
The ghost's shoulders were shaking. It opened its mouth to speak, but the layered voices came back, accompanied by the sobs. They seemed to be increasing, but Elstrin realised that it was actually snatches of conversations from early risers downstairs and on their floor. The thought that cadets were just waking up to a normal day of training, without an inkling of there being a spirit in their building, was almost sickeningly surreal. The room was pale blue now. The clock ticked too loudly. Kana shook his head and murmured something that was lost in the confusing morning din. The ghost lunged forward, frantic, hand outstretched—and vanished.
Kana straightened up, stepped back. He went immediately to the window and glanced out, then crossed the room to press his ear to the door. Elstrin watched him, still too staggered to talk. "Most spirits can only maintain an appearance during dawn," Kana said, throwing on his uniform. His bandaged arm and rib seemed to hurt a lot less now. "It's still there. Just invisible again. See you at breakfast."
He grabbed his key card, slung his dog tag around his neck and promptly strode out of the room, his body language practically oozing discomfort and uneasiness. The door slammed. Elstrin stayed where he was, until his alarm clock sounded at six and jerked him out of his reverie. He touched his own knee absent-mindedly. Nothing told him that a ghost sat there, alone and frightened, dead and lost because of him.
Chapter 9
Down at the cafeteria, Elstrin poked at his food dully, unable to shake off the image of that
boy. Stuck to him. For an entire year already. Wherever he went, a ghost had unwillingly followed. He didn't know how the whole relationship worked, but he was getting a little queasy at the possibility that it saw… everything. Each time he went to the toilet, or jacked off, or put clothes on, something else was there with him. He was starting to learn the true meaning of 'ignorance is bliss'—he'd thought freaking out whenever someone tried to blow him was bad enough. Now, he'd rather never receiving blowjobs than the intensely disturbing knowledge of having a spirit attached to such a painfully private place.
He didn't talk during breakfast, trying to eat through his lack of appetite. He gave up early and escaped the too-crowded hall; the echoing chatter and clink of cutlery was starting to give him a headache. He went to the edge of the field, beside the empty water stand, and stared at the motionless training equipment, the dirt grounds. He took a few deep breaths, filling his lungs
with cool air, wishing it would calm him.
A hand closed upon his arm; Elstrin jumped and whipped around. Kana let go and stepped back. "You're acting too suspicious," he said, nothing on his face betraying the disquiet he'd shown in their room just ten minutes ago. "Stop looking so freaked out."
"How can I not be freaked out?" Elstrin said, slightly shrilly. "There's a ghost—"
"Shut up," Kana hissed, glancing about sharply. "It's not doing anything, okay? It can't do anything. So just pretend it's not there, and I'll dismiss it tonight. Make sure you get out of training before seven thirty."
All too soon, the rest of the cadets came out, and the gate opened a crack to allow the soldiers through. Kana shoved his hands into his pockets and adopted a barely-noticeable slouch. It didn't make him look unenthusiastic; quite the contrary, in fact, it made him look more at ease, as if he was feeling healthy enough for a real challenge during training. Elstrin wondered how someone could so easily switch to a completely different mindset in a matter of seconds. But then again, everything Kana did seemed to have gone through a lifetime's practice, and maybe that said something about how he'd grown up. Elstrin wasn't sure if he'd prefer whatever baggage came with perfecting a multitude of masks at such a young age.
As he followed Snow to an empty section of the field, he tried to push all his thoughts away— Kana's mysterious nature, all that baffling stuff about black magic, the ghost and the distressing ordeal a year ago. This was training now, and nothing should interrupt it. If he was aspiring to be a soldier, he may as well do it properly.
He gripped his sword and quietly began his warm-ups, having memorised the routine by now. Snow hardly needed to supervise this; usually he went off to talk to another lieutenant, but today he stayed by Elstrin's side, doing whatever small exercises Elstrin was, almost reversing their roles. Chalking it up to another one of the man's strange quirks, Elstrin ignored him as usual, working at his own pace. He overdid it a little, nearly working up a sweat, anticipating the way tired muscles and struggle for air would effectively stop his mind from drifting. Snow accompanied him silently like a ghost—god, no, don't think. He shut his eyes tightly for a second and jogged faster.
Eventually, Elstrin stopped. Most of the cadets had already begun sparring. "Okay," he muttered to himself, bracing for another long day of swords and bruises. He turned to Snow and raised his weapon in the attacker's stance. Snow did the same. He still hadn't said a single word apart from a murmured "good morning" after roll-call. Mentally shrugging at the odd behaviour, Elstrin charged.
Swords flew, met, jolted, and in the blink of an eye Elstrin's hand was empty. He stared, unable to grasp how that had happened. "Pick it up," Snow said, completely composed.
Wordlessly, Elstrin obeyed. He spun the blade once, frowned, collected his wits. Once again,
Snow let him attack. He was paying attention, but—there was just a blur of motion, then a blow that from its sheer force alone disarmed him. It was a wonder that the sword didn't snap. Elstrin blinked after it, opened his mouth but didn't know what to say.
"Pick it up," Snow repeated flatly.
On the third try, they were able to exchange a few hits, though clearly it was only because Snow was holding back. The lieutenant pressed forward, and Elstrin, hoping that they were beginning that chasing thing again, retreated accordingly, until—he found his back against a wooden surface. Before he could even react to that, Snow had swiped his sword onto the dirt easily, and there was a blunt edge pressing hard into his neck. Elstrin gasped, leaned away instinctively, but the blade followed until he grew still. "Wh-what—" he said, the pressure making it hard to talk. He was pinned to one of the tall poles of the ropes course he'd climbed during his first days of training.
Snow stepped up right into his personal space. Elstrin, head turned sideways and forced to stay like that, could only look wide-eyed at the rest of the wooden contraptions rising from the ground before him. He tried to glance in front of him but the view there was blocked by the lieutenant's shoulder. Snow bent slightly to speak into his ear.
"Surely you knew the consequences. Once someone tells the authorities, your new friend will spend the rest of his days in jail. The rest of his limited days, that is, before he's executed."
Elstrin felt his blood turn to ice. He wanted to swallow, but it was too difficult. The sword pressed harder as if sensing his reaction.
"Well? Did you?" It was asked so calmly that Elstrin took a moment to understand that Snow was still talking about someone's potential arrest and death.
He couldn't shake his head. Speaking was almost impossible now, but somehow he managed. "N-no."
"Then why—" The sword angled up sharply without warning, chipped edge sliding against Elstrin's neck, scratching the tender skin there. "—did you not ask him first?"
"I—I wasn't thinking—"
"The first lesson you learn as a soldier is that nobody will cover up your mistakes. Nobody will lie for you. You do something wrong and you receive your punishment. Both of you need to know this."
The pressure disappeared. Elstrin coughed, blinking hard, unclenching a hand from its tense position against the pole to rub at the sore line on his throat. Snow was already stalking away without a backward glance. Elstrin snatched up his sword and, after a moment's hesitation, hurried after him but kept a good few metres between them. With a sick swooping sensation in his stomach, he realised Snow was headed to where Kana and his lieutenant were training, already well under way in a spar. Kana didn't even look over, fighting with much less difficulty than he had last week, but after a short while his lieutenant stepped back and held up a hand, stopping his next attack.
"Snow," the soldier said with a nod. "Anything I can help you with?"
"I'd like to spar with your cadet."
The lieutenant was briefly surprised, but shrugged and moved aside. "Knock yourself out."
Kana didn't protest, his eyes flickering up and down Snow's body once, sizing him up. Snow sent Elstrin a look that contained almost as much silent anger as the day he'd taken the dragon hatchling back into HQ—not just anger but a potent mix of irritation and frustration. "Watch," was all he said. Elstrin was both relieved and nervous when he turned back to Kana.
The other lieutenant took Elstrin's elbow and led him a safe distance away. "I'm Lieutenant Leopard. You're Cadet White?" He nodded. "Huh. What'd you do to piss Snow off?"
"I don't know," Elstrin said truthfully.
"Let's just hope he doesn't murder my cadet," Leopard muttered. "Kana fights like there's no tomorrow—I force rules on him but he only follows them halfway." He nodded towards the pair, facing each other now as Snow talked. "If Snow gives him free reign, things will get messy."
"But—why's he doing this?"
Leopard glanced down at him archly. "Did you and Kana do anything particularly illegal? 'Cause this is looking like a lesson to me. For both of you. About breaking rules."
"What? A lesson? But—"
"He has his own teaching style. He's trying to make you realise that if you meddle in stupid
things, people get hurt. And believe me; young soldiers do a lot of stupid things. If there's something important that needs to be done but it's out of your expertise, you have to swallow your pride, shove away all that inflated teenage resolution and get help from us, the pros. No matter how good you think you are, we're better."
Elstrin held back a biting retort. "Right. He told me this is the first time he's trained cadets. How come he's got a teaching style?"
"Oh, he trains other soldiers too. Sergeants, lieutenants, the like," Leopard said flippantly. He looked at the training ground again and echoed, "Watch."
They bowed. Kana was grinning slightly, pure challenge, his split lip and bruises only
accentuating his fearlessness. Snow's expression was more guarded. They raised their swords. There was a beat of silence, and at the same time, they darted forwards.
Feet and blades moved in quick, concentrat
ed flurries. Kana's bandaged arm was no longer held against his body stiffly, but he still didn't favour it too much, using it mostly for balance. Snow began with the basic moves all the cadets had learnt, executing them with deadly precision, but Kana deflected them, not with the standard blocks but something slightly different, defence always morphing instantly into attack. It made the fight dizzyingly fast-paced, hard to follow because it didn't really have a rhythm. Kana seized every opportunity he had, even if it meant he had to take more blows, just trying to inflict damage. His sword flashed like it was an extension of his hand. The packed dirt around them became churned. They didn't move around much, but Kana was forever crouching and jumping and stooping to either avoid a sword or make an attack.
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