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momobani · 2 years

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SEASONS CHANGE BUT PEOPLE DON’T

If Your Winter Is Hard - Chapter 1 - 6.6k

medium!minghao x exorcist!reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: exorcism(duh!); discussion of ghosts + death, reference to death of family members, light violence/ fighting, mention of guns, mention of grief

Sum: You almost get someone killed on the job, which is new considering you work with the dead.

title reference to The Takes Over, The Breaks Over by Fall Out Boy [mv link cuz can’t find audio]. Vivaldi’s Four Seasons complete performance by Janine Jansen [concert vid].

Point of reference for series: Sell Your Haunted House (and Hotel Del Luna but to a lesser extent, both amazing dramas, go watch).

Disclaimer: lot of creative licence here lol, influenced by and used a lot of ideas from Sell Your Haunted House (e.g the setting, certain plot points and prop ideas) with some adaptation, some general/ stereotypical things about exorcism you can learn from mainstream media, nothing too intricate. [seriously go watch SYHH cuz it’s incredible and underrated af and I just had to pay homage to it somehow, so here’s a whole ass fic inspired by it haha]

It’s quiet, almost too quiet tonight.

The razor chill falling over the evening has your hairs standing on edge, the cold air getting crisper and crisper as you walk toward the entrance of the gallery. It’s a grand building, giant columns and the whole wannabe Greek triangulate structure of the roof, slabs of stone place perfectly in an attempt to emulate ancient civilisation.

You hear your footsteps so loudly, the wet squelch of your boots against the cement underfoot as you lead Hoshi up the steps, and even he’s uncharacteristically quiet for the moment, diligently carrying a bag full of your equipment.

Tonight’s menu was an old ghost, one that had gone decades without detection, let alone exorcism. It had surprised you to identify it, since so many other exorcists before you could have been the ones to find it, yet had not. Suppose it wasn’t its time to go yet.

Everyone has to go eventually.

You walk around to one of the side doors instead of the main large mahogany entrance and steal through, holding the metal plated surface for Hoshi. You take a moment to dry your boots on a nearby mat, the overly cautious side of your brain taking initiative to slip in and out of this gallery undetected. Your police friends could only do so much control damage, better not cause any trouble in the first place.

You’d done the research, the scouting, the calculations, the meticulous planning that always goes into your exorcisms and the only way to get to where your ghost was, was to walk through the atrium on the first floor. You’d been on site just yesterday, making sure everything could go smoothly.

The gallery was already closed but it was the minuscule gap in time between the visitors leaving and the security guards sweeping through and taking away stragglers and guiding them out.

“C’mon.” You said to Hoshi as you lead the way to the correct spot. You almost tip toed as you kept your eyes open for any movement around you. You knew the guards weren’t doing their patrol of this wing of the gallery yet. You had ten minutes flat to get this done. No time to lose.

You stood in front of a painting by the ghost when he’d been alive; an unknown artist, who’d died a bitter death before completing what was posthumously considered his best work. It was no wonder that he’d been unable to move on. From your research it wasn’t uncommon for artists to be shunned for their work whilst alive and only recognised as genius after death.

“Play it, quick.” You told Hoshi as you started to set up the incense. It was risky to light anything in here despite it being an open space, but the incense was part of the ritual to lure the ghost to you in order to exorcise it. You’d also found a short biography of the painter where you’d learned that he liked to listen to classical music whilst painting. So naturally you told Hoshi to bring his little portable tiger speaker and play some.

“I got Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. This might be good to attract the ghost.” He says as he fiddles with the bluetooth.

“Hosh, you had one job.” You sigh as you check on the magazine of crystallised salt bullets in your gun, a modest but practical SIG Sauer P365 which gives you a generous eleven rounds to isolate a ghost. Your industry tended to take normal weapons and adapt them to your jobs hence it was full of special bullets. You usually liked to use the old fashioned salt cage method but you had no time to do all that now.

“What? Four Seasons never gets old.” Hoshi pouts as the speaker starts to play some of the piece quietly.

“Violinists would beg to differ.” You muttered. “Whatever, let’s just get this over with.” You stand in position, alert for when the ghost might appear.

“I’ll put it on shuffle, the ghost might like Winter more than Spring.” Hoshi says.

“Just play the first movement and leave it.” You roll your eyes at his back and wait.

The incense is burning properly now, the light wisps of smoke floating up and you hope that by some miracle the fire alarms aren’t triggered by that tiny little bit of incense.

You feel it before you see it. The shift in energies surrounding you, a distinct dread settling in your chest, and the prickle of static in the air; the ghost is here. The cold breeze of its presence seizes the space around you.

You whip around and spot him nearing you and Hoshi slowly, the spectre of a middle aged man with sad, sad eyes and apron over his clothes, faint dried paint still visible even though he was incredibly transparent.

“Get ready.” You say. Hoshi nods and gets ready to remove the bracelet on his left wrist. It’s a simple bead design made of pitch black onyx crystals.

Hoshi is your medium.

In order for a medium to not get randomly possessed, they must wear some kind of talisman, usually crystals, that warded off ghosts or even demons depending on which of them you were working on; demons were a harder (and much rarer) breed and only the super elite exorcists went after those. Your practice was focused on dispatching ghosts who hadn’t moved on and couldn’t find their way to the afterlife.

Hoshi’s energy is to say the least…intense. He’s kind of a perfect fit for a medium; aura strong enough to attract ghosts but also robust enough to withstand frequent possession. The regulations set by the Council of Exorcists stated that any practicing exorcist must have at least one permanent medium on their payroll at any time and employ an alternative if you perform more than 3 per week.

And so you’d found Hoshi through the network at Council of Exorcists a couple years back when your sister’s practice became yours.

So here you were, waiting to guide the painter to the next world.

In one hand you had your gun, in the other you had the scroll of his name contained in the handle of a thin blade with which you were going to stab the ghost with. The blades were custom made and you had boxes filled with them from your supplier, since each one burned up with the ghost and their name each time you exorcised someone.

You watch as the ghost approaches, the music fading to the background of your awareness as you stared at him. He seemed calm for the moment but usually the process of possession riled ghosts up so you had to be ready.

“Now!” You instruct Hoshi. He dropped the bracelet, the crystals landing with a soft clink against the marble floor, and the ghost immediately lurched forward, zipping past you and straight into Hoshi’s body. He staggered for a moment, his head hung low as he got his bearings. Hoshi snapped his head up to look at you dead in the eye. You knew the possession was complete since Hoshi’s irises had lit up with a silvery light, a drastic change from their usual warm brown.

You stepped towards him but the ghost shook Hoshi’s body and attempted to swing his arm at you. The attempt failed since the ghost was not used to the new body. You didn’t bother waiting for him to adjust as you took it as the opportunity to storm Hoshi, blade raised. The ghost yelled out and you were thrown back unexpectedly, the supernatural energy of the yell sending you to land on your ass a few feet away. The fall knocked the gun out of your hand and you heard it skitter some distance away.

The ghost was agitated now, as expected. But what you didn’t expect was how strong the energy behind the scream was. You worried it might have been enough to alert any security nearby. You just needed to get this job done and fast. You got up and and rushed towards Hoshi’s body, who now had his back towards you as he looked at the painting, enticed by his own work. You had to stab at his heart otherwise it wouldn’t work so you grabbed Hoshi’s shoulder and yanked him to turn around.

You were about to stab the blade home before you felt a gut-wrenching cold over you. It made your stomach curl and your throat seize up, a terrible shiver wracking your body. You let go of Hoshi and staggered backwards. The ghost was attempting to break free of his confines; trying to fight the medium’s body. This hadn’t happened to you before but you knew that it was unpredictable what the ghost might do once it escaped.

Hoshi stood rigidly for a split second then levitated, his feet leaving the ground. You didn’t dare move, eyes wide, as you waited to see what the ghost’s next move. You gasped as Hoshi’s body flew towards the nearest wall and slammed into it, narrowly missing some other paintings.

“Hoshi!” You screamed, gunning towards him as he fell to the ground, the ghost leaving his body and floating away towards the atrium’s staircase. You slid next to him and checked over his head for any injuries as he spluttered away, coughing.

“I’m okay, go get him.” He managed between breaths. You didn’t want to leave him but you needed to locate the ghost. It wasn’t normal for a ghost to reject the medium’s body and if it did, then it could mean a lot of trouble.

“I’ll be back!” You said and sprinted after the ghost, blade in hand. You followed the cold trail of the energies the spirit left in the air as he moved around. You made it down the large stone staircase and heard a loud crash. You turned toward the source of the sound and noticed a movement.

The guard in the security’s office was sweeping through the tiny space, papers flying everywhere and you assumed the ghost was in there with him. You ran the few steps separating you and stood in the doorframe to assess the situation.

The guard snapped towards you sharply, his eyes zeroing in on you. He was a taller man, young and lean and if you had a second more you would notice that his shirt was stained with tea but what you did notice a second later was his eyes - it was the same silvery light marking a supernatural presence.

You knew two things in that moment: 1) the guard was possessed, and 2) you might get sued for negligence.

The only explanation that made sense to you right now was that the guard must have been a medium even if he had no idea and the ghost had decided that he wanted to try everything available to him like some kind of all-you-can-posses buffet.

Great, now you had an actual tangible problem on your hands.

You had to exorcise the ghost, or at least trick it to leave this man’s body and return to Hoshi’s. For the sake of the guard’s safety you stepped back and beckoned the ghost to come towards you; fighting in that office was more likely to injure the civilian than out here in the atrium. After all, you had to make sure he doesn’t get hurt because of all of this.

“I’m going to need you to leave that man’s body alone. You kicked my medium’s ass and I won’t forgive that. I’m the only one that gets to kick his ass, got it?” You hoped that talking to the ghost might help it relax a little, maybe make it want to wander about again. It seemed to be working since he was focused on you, walking towards your voice.

You counted each heartbeat, waiting for a blast of cold air to hit you if the ghost left the security guard’s body. You waited in vain and instead gripped your tool. You needed to do this as quickly and as neatly as possible.

When he was about a couple of feet away you lunged forward, blade towards the man’s heart, your sudden attack however, was greeted with a counter when the man grabbed your arm and flipped you, the world spinning around you unexpectedly. You were caught by surprise as you twisted in the air, your view of the world tipping upside down and almost moving in slow motion.

It was during your suspension in mid-air that you speculated that that was the skilled hand of someone who knows martial arts, presumably something the guard was trained in. You rolled away as you landed, blade still in hand.

You turned around and found the man was already next to you and grabbing you, his hard chest pressing against your back, your legs kicking in front of you. You were certain he’ll throw you but where and how, you weren’t sure. Before he could do anything, you kicked downwards, using gravity to aid you in bringing the two of you down so you could flip him over you this time. He landed on his back, groaning.

“Ugh, why couldn’t you be some useless, donut loving-ahhh!” your grumbling was interrupted by a long leg swiping the floor underneath you. You landed, the air knocked out of you, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Now you were mad too. You just wanted to do your job, what were the odds of a random person being both a medium and highly skilled in martial arts?

“Right, enough.” You huffed and rushed towards the man’s body as he was getting up. You tackled him, using all the force you could muster but bringing your body to the ground first so you could bear the brunt of the landing, rolling the two of you so that you were straddling him. You drove the blade down into the man’s chest. “Go peacefully.” You breathed.

It was something that your family in particular had a tradition of saying to ghosts as you released them to the next world, the last words that they would hear on this plane. You waited as the blade burned up with the painter’s name, the tool turning to ash and dust in your hand then being carried away into the ether.

You waited for the ghost’s dying memory to wash over you as the last of the blade burned up and the soul left the man’s body.

You saw it in your mind’s eye; the painter was sitting at a kitchen table, eating a meal and admiring his work in the corner of his studio, the very same that was hung in the gallery, when you felt your (his) vision blur and the world went dark for a millionth of a second.

You exhaled the breath you were holding and found yourself still on top of the man that had been possessed earlier. His eyes were fluttering open, the colour of his irises revealed to be a dark brown, the kind of endlessness you can fall into and never get out. He gasped awake and screamed when he saw you, causing you to scream simultaneously and scramble off of him.

“Who the hell are you?” His eyes are wide and alarmed and it hits you just how bad this could get. You’re terrified you accidentally let the ghost possess him. What if it had hurt him? Or even killed him? Unlikely but what then? You’re stifling down your horror and anxiety as you drink him in. He looks okay.

Your brain is milling a million hours an hour and you try to rationalise each thought as it flits through your brain.

It wasn’t entirely your fault since you could never predict if there was another medium nearby but technically you could have tried to isolate the ghost while it was still in Hoshi’s body, yet you’d been so concerned with getting it done, that you’d been clumsy and allowed him to get away, although in your defence, you’d never had a ghost reject a medium before.

“Uh-” you tried dumbly.

“YN! Did you get him?” You hear Hoshi’s voice yelling out behind you. You glance back and he’s limping slightly but otherwise Hoshi’s enthusiastic and bubbly and still Hoshi so you turn your attention back to the security guard. He’s still frazzled but he’s definitely getting closer to fuming.

“Are you okay?” You ask him. First things first, injuries. “You’re not hurt?” You scan his face for injuries, then the rest of him.

“Should I be?” He asks. “I don’t know what that was but I feel weird. What’s going on?” He demands, looking down at himself, patting his arms and then legs, as if checking they’re still there.

You had to assume he had medium abilities, otherwise there was no other explanation for how he got possessed, which meant by protocol you were required to tell him the truth about what happened. You sighed.

Something about his demeanour told you he wouldn’t believe you but you had to try anyway. But not here, it was only a matter of minutes before his fellow guards made their rounds to this end of the gallery.

“We’ll tell you everything, just come with us-”

“No, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Please, we can’t be seen here, we might get questioned or worse they might call the police.” You pleaded with him. His face didn’t budge.

“Explain first, then we’ll see if I go.” He said, stubborn with conviction. You weighed it up for a split second that the only way to shift him was to tell him the truth right now.

“Okay listen, it might seem really bizarre but-”

“You got possessed by a ghost and she exorcised it out of you.” Hoshi says quickly, standing next to you, arms crossed casually. You click your tongue, annoyed. You were going to ease the guy into it but there he goes and just throws him in the deep end.

“Huh?”

“Sometimes when people die, their souls-” you start.

“Hey, I know what a ghost is, I just didn’t think they actually existed.” The guard interjects.

“Well, they do exist and it seems that you’re able to host them, which is something that not a lot of people can do.” You explain.

“So, right then, I got possessed?” He asks. You nod. “By a ghost?” You nod and Hoshi nod in unison. “And you made it go away?” Each question he asked, his voice went up higher both in pitch and incredulity.

“That’s right. The ghost had originally possessed my colleague Hoshi here,” you gesture vaguely in his direction and he wriggles his fingers in a sheepish ‘hi’ to the guard. “But it must have sensed your presence and come to possess you instead.”

You give the guy a moment for it all to sink in. You really didn’t have time for this but it was obvious it was the only way to get him to cooperate. He purses his lips in thought, as if running the information through a database in his head and calculating what his next move should be. You didn’t blame him, here he was at work and some crazy people let a ghost take over his body. Not your typical night shift.

“I think I believe you but it still sounds too far fetched.” He replies, a due amount of scepticism coating his voice. “Are you sure you didn’t come to steal art and drug me so you could get away?”

You can’t help your shoulders slumping. He might take some convincing but you were running out of time. It was a miracle that no other guards had arrived on the scene yet. You had to leave now, one person was enough, but if more people saw you, they’d raise the alarm.

“Have you never had anything strange happen to you? Never walked through a cold breeze on a scalding hot day? Couldn’t remember how you got somewhere and how much time has passed?” You ask him, listing the common symptoms of being a medium as described by the books. You see the shift in his eyes as your words turn the cogs in his head. He finally had an explanation of oddities that had happened to him all his life.

“Tell me more.” He says finally.

“Come with us. We need to make sure you’re not experiencing any after effects.”

“But my shift just started. It’s my first day at work, I can’t go.” He protests as he starts to get up. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder what the odds of that are. Getting possessed by a ghost on your first day on the job. Probably less than minute. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You don’t want to cost him his job but an unprecedented exorcism could potentially cost him his life so you decide to exaggerate.

“Well we can’t stay here. And if something happens to you then we can’t save you from jail.” You insist. The guy stands up and he sways slightly, you instinctively reach out and catch his arm, a little taken aback of the hard muscle you feel underneath his grey uniform. He definitely could have kicked your ass if he’d been awake. He looks at you and you find yourself too close so you step back, letting his arm go quickly. He looks conflicted for a moment, but ultimately nods.

“Fine, let’s go, it’s not like I was getting paid anyway.” He says. “My name is Minghao, by the way.”

“Hoshi and YN, nice to meet you…” you trail off as you look at Minghao sway again slightly and clutch his head before his eyes flutter close and you yelp whilst trying to catch him mid-fall. He’s not heavy but then again when had anyone unconscious been that light? You almost crumble as you struggle to pull his arm around you so you can carry him.

“Hosh, a little help?” You puff through gritted teeth. Hoshi looks at you, the bag of your equipment in his hand.

“Boss, I’m injured and my hands are busy.” He smiles at you and you feel the urge to wack his arm. “I’ll get the doors, let’s go.”

You arrive at your headquarters, the car ride silent and tense. You’d been gripping the steering wheel, constantly glancing up at the rearview mirror to see Minghao sprawled out across your backseat and completely conked out by the looks of it. It was probably his body reacting to the sudden energy entering and escaping it; it was probably a shock to the system and he must be exhausted.

You knew it was normal for mediums to sometimes faint after an exorcism, especially if they were inexperienced, you still remembered the first time Hoshi had worked for you. It was a fairly routine exorcism, a family member unable to leave their loved ones, in this case a child hanging around their parents after death, but Hoshi had nonetheless collapsed after hosting the child’s ghost. Nothing a little medicine can’t fix.

You assessed Hoshi’s injuries in the car, asking him rapid questions, playing doctor for ten minutes as you drove. You’d need to see how badly he was injured and potentially send him for a check up, but he wasn’t complaining too badly, which led you to believe he was fine for the most part. At least you hoped, you had some work coming up that would require a healthy medium.

You managed to rope him into helping you carry Minghao, each of you placing one of his arms around you. You went through the closest entrance, the one to your office, which was on the ground floor of the building. The underground or basement floor was your living space and your storage facility. You entered through the double front doors, which were a dark wooden panel with a rectangular glass pane at the top and silver door handles, strategically designed to keep certain types of demons out since the silver might burn them.

The familiar heavyset musk of stifled air and old paperwork filled your nose as you struggled through the office area, where you met with clients and also kept record of your exorcisms, the whole room outlined with wooden cupboards upon metal filing cabinets filled to the brim with decades worth of documents, or as you liked to occasionally remind yourself, your inheritance from your family. Most people got houses or maybe cars or businesses but you got the ability to see ghosts and a lifelong responsibility to society that you couldn’t back out of.

It was a trudge to the basement floor where you had a spare room to put Minghao to lie down. You manage to not bump into anything on the way down the stairs so you agree with Hoshi to call it a success. You instruct Hoshi to sit with Minghao while you go and source some medicine. You shuffle down the hallway, your black long coat swishing as you go, keeping your eyes open.

She might be waiting for you.

The living room and kitchen are an open plan room that takes up most of the basement floor and are almost entirely in darkness since you only have a few windows to the side and even there, most light coming in is blocked by a staircase to the basement entrance.

You flip the light switch and the few tiny lamps lining the walls and the chandelier separating the rooms buzz to life but the room is still vastly dark. The lights hadn’t been changed for a long time, the bulbs, covered by frosted glass cup-shaped shades, weak and coated in a thin sheen of dust. Just as your grandparents had left them.

The couch too was ancient; a dull flower patterned upholstery that had never left the basement and you didn’t have the heart to replace. It was full of nostalgia and memories, as was the weathered dinning table and the coffee table and practically every piece of furniture, carpet and piece in the basement. You tried not to let your eyes wander too much whilst you prepared some tea and herbal paste for Minghao but it was always hard after a job.

Exorcisms reminded you of your family.

While it was brewing you couldn’t help but look across the room, checking for signs of movement while the soothing aroma of the tea filled your senses. Your eyes finally stopped to stare at the framed photograph of you and your sister, one of the freshest things in this room sitting amongst the older frames on a chest of drawers, added almost three years ago.

It’s subconscious when you touch the ring on your hand, a thin silver band and a bright carnelian crystal, the protective talisman she had worn since taking over the family duties. You had a matching set of earrings and your aunt the necklace from the set.

The ring was one of the only things of your sister’s you let see the light of day; the rest was hidden away in storage that sat in your spare room, the majority of the space taken up by the stacks of cardboard boxes. There was a spare set of bedding you’d instructed Hoshi to set out while you held Minghao up, his head resting on your shoulder and the crook of your neck. It was too close for what you considered comfortable proximity with a complete stranger, yet you hadn’t felt your usual aversion when someone was in your personal space.

It bothered you, you thought as you stirred the mixture of medicinal herbs in a mug. That’s why you were still thinking about it. It bothered you how you could still feel the warmth of his cheek and the tickle of his hair on your skin. And what bothered you even more was that your sister hadn’t made an appearance tonight. Her ghost was still lingering in the house and the office and almost without a miss, she breezed around you to check on you after an exorcism, but tonight the house was utterly still.

When you get back to the guys, you see Minghao is starting to wake up. He seems groggy and confused, his hair sticking up in different directions, tousled after the fight and the journey here, but you think he seems otherwise unharmed. Hoshi looks up from his phone, suddenly animated.

“You’re alive!” He squeaks excitedly. Minghao sits up slowly, assisted by Hoshi as you sit down beside them with the mug of tea and herbal medicine.

“Excellent observation.” Minghao says, voice laced with fatigue.

“Well it’s good news cause we won’t get hit with a law-”

“Hosh!” You hiss in warning; what Minghao doesn’t know won’t hurt you in legal fees. “I left some painkillers in the kitchen for you, go have some.” You wanted to talk to Minghao alone so you wait for Hoshi to hobble out of the room. You turn to Minghao. “It’s good news because it means your body is strong enough to withstand possession.” You say. “Here, have some tea, it’ll make you feel better.” And you hand him the mug carefully.

“Thanks.” He mutters.

You watch as he takes a discreet sniff and then a tentative sip. He hums in approval after a second. You raise your eyebrows in question.

“It’s good tea.” He doesn’t elaborate. He’s quiet as he takes a few more sips and you start to worry why he’s not asking questions. He’d clearly been curious enough about what happened that he agreed to leave with you.

“Have you ever seen a ghost?” You ask suddenly, not sure what compelled you to open with that. Minghao does a double take as he holds the mug to his lips. He tries to play it off as if it’s too hot, but the shift in his eyes doesn’t escape your notice. “So you have. Did it possess you?”

Minghao sighs, bringing the cup of tea to rest against his thigh. He looks as if he’s weighing up how much he should tell you. You don’t blame him; you’re total strangers and you’re claiming to know stuff about ghosts, it’s not a surprise the guy probably thinks you belong in Looneyville.

“I think it did,” He begins. You lean in slightly, in anticipation. “It wasn’t the only time either. It was at my uncle’s house, I think it was haunted. Every time I visited, I couldn’t remember much of what happened. The way someone edits a video tape - there’s just snippets of things I saw or felt.” He says. “And then one day I saw the ghost itself, standing on the balcony and looking down at my family in the garden. After that, it stopped. I never bothered telling anyone about it all.”

You nod slowly, imagining a younger Minghao staring at the spirit speechless and confused.

“You must have been frightened. It must have been hard, all that time, keeping it to yourself.” You pause. “I’m sorry that we let the ghost get to you tonight. We should have been more careful.” You hope your apology eases Minghao’s mind, knowing that it was your fault and it can be explained to a degree.

“What do you even do?” He seems more curious than reprimanding.

“I’m an exorcist and Hoshi is my medium. We go after ghosts and get them to move on. That ghost at the gallery was lingering near his art work, too attached to it to leave this world. There is a natural progression that must be kept, so we move it along.” You explain.

You leave out the part that if a ghost stays too long, they become trapped here, their souls unable to ever leave, wandering the earth for all eternity, drifting endlessly. It happened rarely but it was a fate that could befall someone. They could also become vengeful spirits, some did, almost demonic in nature and begin to hurt anyone that was unlucky enough to cross their path.

You’d never really had to tell anyone in detail what you did, since your industry generally took mediums in and helped them understand their abilities and you never needed to tell ordinary people on the street what you did.

Clients came to you after going through a screening process set up by the Council’s Head Quarters and usually believed in ghosts before they even walked through the door. All you had to confirm was that you were indeed an exorcist and how you could help them. But telling Minghao about it seemed weird; you spoke simply of it, when it wasn’t quite as simple as it sounded.

So you’d decided to inform Minghao on a need-to-know basis.

“I think I understand. You take care of the dead, you’re like the boat guy in the underworld, what’s that myth?” Minghao thinks for a moment. “In Greek mythology, you know the one?”

“Charon.” You say automatically. You’re not really sure what to make of his comparison. In some ways he was right but you’d hardly ever thought about what you actually do. You were more burdened with the fact that you had to carry this on for your whole life - living in a world full of ghosts that you couldn’t escape. You’d never been allowed to consider doing anything else in your life; the path paved in front of you before you’d even been born.

You were born with a gift, you’d been told. A gift to see more than what meets the eye. Every time you heard that, it made you want to retch or scratch your skin off. It wasn’t a gift, it was a curse. A life sentence.

Your father had been lucky, being one of your line to miss out on the sight, the blessed sibling unlike your poor aunt, but neither you or your sister had been spared. Yet, you’d accepted your fate, your duty and the way that your life would go. Live amongst ghosts until you died and maybe became one yourself.

“Yeah, him. He helps people find their way. It sounds like a pretty important job.” Minghao pauses to look at you. Your eyes meet and you can’t find the words for it, but you feel something. There’s something heavy in his gaze, as if he’s trying to dissect you. It makes you feel naked. The look on your face must have been obvious because he purses his lips then says: “You hate it though.”

You mentally shake yourself out of his stare.

“Doesn’t matter,” you shrug. “Speaking of jobs. Sorry if you get fired. You could try explaining it was an emergency though I doubt they’d love that. If you do lose your job, let us know, we could hook you up with something.” You fish out a business card from your pocket; it’s solid black card with silver writing in one corner. He takes it and inspects it.

“You have an exorcism business?” He asks. Just as you’re about to answer, Hoshi limps back into the room, water bottle in hand. He settles down in the same spot to Minghao’s left.

“What’d I miss, hmm?” He looks between you and Minghao.

“I filled Minghao in on some details.” You reply.

“Oh?” Hoshi catches a glimpse of the card in Minghao’s hand and points towards it questioningly. “You offered him a job too? That’s great, we could always use more mediums around here.” He says enthusiastically.

You hadn’t felt awkwardness in quite a long time, curtesy of working with ghosts who just don’t make you feel that way, scared, yes, frustrated, maybe, but awkward? Like never, but tonight you were getting a reminder of how much you hated the feeling.

Minghao on the other hand refused to be affected by the contagious awkwardness.

“You have an opening?” He asked simply.

“Yeah, I’m the only medium in the firm right now, by regulation we call up Seokmin every once in a while, he’s a freelancer and he comes to work between our office and Seungkwan’s office.”

“Right, and what do you actually do as a medium?” Minghao probes further. You don’t like it.

“Hmm… I lend my body out for money.” Hoshi grins.

“So you’re a hooker?” Minghao’s voice rings with disbelief, then shrugs. “Not my place to judge.” He concedes.

“Ignore him. Technically yes, we have an opening, but you’d have to undergo some basic training if you want to work here.” You add.

“Training?” Minghao perks up. “I’m actually a martial arts instructor, the security job was just for some extra cash. What kind of training?”

You can’t help but let out a tiny laugh. Is it relief or irony, you don’t know. So you’d been right, he most certainly could have kicked your ass if he’d been conscious.

“Ah, not that kind of training. Like learning to be a medium. After that, you could work with an exorcist, contract or freelance so you get paid per exorcism.”

“Do you think I could do it?” Minghao asks. You can tell the question is aimed specifically at you, the way his eyes roam your face, but you’re hesitating. He does have an aura around him, something still and strong about the air which he carries himself with. You had to admit he had potential and he was already looking better after the possession despite the short period of time to recover.

“Probably.” You say carefully. “It’s not the kind of thing I can judge right now since I don’t really know anything about you. But you definitely have the medium ability. Listen, this is a difficult job. And it’s dangerous too.”

“Yeah, people die in this business, like YN’s s-” you feel your heart sinking.

“Hoshi!” You warn. “Don’t scare him. It doesn’t happen that often.” You look away, unable to bear the weight of Minghao’s inquisitive look at the newfound information.

“I’m not directly inviting you to work for us since you’ll live a better life away from all this. The offer is however on the table, working for us or within our sphere. You have the abilities after all.” You almost tell him he’s cursed too, like you, then you realise he’s not. His fate hasn’t been sealed yet, therefore there’s still hope for him. Instead you get up and walk over to cluster of cardboard boxes, kneeling to rummage through for a moment, plucking out a small jewellery box.

Once you sit back down you open it and flick around its contents until you find what you’re looking for. It’s a ring; a sleek, black onyx band, the only protective talisman you currently have in the house and you extend it to Minghao.

When he sees the ring, his eyes bug out comically, clearly misunderstanding.

“It’s a little too soon, don’t you think? We met an hour ago.” He can’t hide the look of disgust on his face. You roll your eyes.

“It’s to keep you safe, genius.” You deadpan at him. “Regardless of your decision, wear this to avoid getting possessed again.”

Minghao accepts the ring, having the decency to look ashamed at his assumption. It bothers you when it fits on his finger perfectly, the crystal hugging his skin snugly. You don’t tell him it was your grandfather’s ring, the one he wore when he and your grandmother founded the firm and indirectly cursed you years before you were even a possibility. Better he not know the weight it carried.

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