21:56 | sn
ghosts au
pairing: ghost!san x seer!reader
genre: slice of life, angst i guess ?
word count: 1.6k
warnings: implied death, mentions of ghosts and corpses
a/n: i just think san would be a really annoying ghost
Mentally going through your to-do list, you walked to the laundry room in a daze with a basket of dirty clothes resting on your hip. With the semester entering its end, assignment deadlines inched closer while the exam timetable was released allowing you to reach unfounded levels of anxiety. However, you were confident in your abilities, a passing grade was manageable and you were definitely going to get something higher.
Pushing aside your thoughts of the near future, you decided to focus on tasks you needed to complete today. You desperately need to clean your room; by the time your clothes run a cycle through the washing machine and then the dryer, your room better be sparkling. As for the dishes and the trash, you’d have to tackle them later in the day, they were menial tasks. Nodding to yourself, you opened the door to the laundry room and instantly caught the eye of a familiar face.
A messy mop of black hair with a bounce that could not be achieved with your cheap conditioner, shiny beetle black eyes, and a disarming smile. Their owner was seated on top of the washing machines, legs dangling and swinging without a care in the world as he brought a hand up to greet you.
Choi San.
Almost instinctively, you lowered your head; chin bumping into your neck as you made your way towards the only vacant washing machine. Your luck, it was exactly opposite to the man you were decidedly ignoring.
“Y/N!” His voice was way too enthusiastic this early in the morning, it rang like an alarm in your ears. Turning to show his profile, he said, “Thought I’d see you here!”
Of course, you thought to yourself before placing your basket above the washing machine, effectively blocking half his torso.
“You won’t even look at me?” He said with faux indignation before kneeling and moving closer to you, across the washing machines. “Come on, you can’t ignore me forever!”
Well, that was the plan.
Granted, it was fruitless against Choi San because without missing a beat, he began prattling on. Seeing as this was inevitable, you decided to ignore him to the best of your ability. Making sure the settings on the machine was correct, you began to place your dirty laundry in the machine, although it was hard to concentrate.
For some unknown reason, it was difficult to brush aside Choi San’s presence.
Maybe it was the way he casually laughed with his whole body or the way he exaggerated his stories with expressions you could only imagine mimicking. Perhaps, it was the way he effortlessly communicates; fluidly and shrewdly, even when he might as well be talking to a wall… which is you.
It was a skill you admired, of course, you would never tell him that.
His words began to grate against your skull like a fork being dragged across a metal plate, so you finally gave in. Eyes still pointed at the open machine, you paused your chore to say, “I told you to leave me alone, Choi San.”
“Ugh, Choi San.” Completely missing your point, he stopped to imitate the sounds of vomiting. “Choi. San. It’s so formal and boring. I’ve told you to use nicknames—We’re such close friends!”
Close friends? Where did he get that idea?
Feeling a vein throb in your temple, you groaned and began hastily stuffing clothes in as Choi San listed possible names you could call him.
“San, Sannie, Sanshine, Mountain—” He said while he used his fingers to tick off the possible names. With each suggestion, you felt your blood pressure increase. “Maybe, San-ah? Oh, Sana? Sana! Oh my god, she is so pretty, don’t you think, Y/N? You really should ask her out you know—”
Straightaway, your head shot up to find Choi San’s nose merely inches away from yours. beside your empty basket, he was lying flat on his stomach, face resting on his elbows with his legs kicking behind him like a troublesome school child. Wearing that charming smile of his with all his dimples on display, looking so helplessly innocent that any common fool would miss the mischievous glimmering in those beetle eyes of his.
Of course, you were no common fool.
But you did look up at him.
Another long groan of frustration escaped you followed by a string of swear words as you slammed the machine door close. Prideful and elated, San giggled to himself before winking at you.
“You looked!” he said before his giggles fell into full-blown laughter.
Rolling your eyes, you started the machine as Choi San kept chanting that you noticed him. Floating above you, he kept trying to get in your line of sight to catch your eyes again.
“Come on, Y/N!” he whined as you shook your head while fetching your phone to set an alarm. “I haven’t seen you in so long, you’ve been holed up in your room too much! Tell me how—!”
“I’m busy, Choi San,” you said sharply before moving towards the exit.
Unfortunately for you, Choi San was quicker than lightning. His hand was already on the handle when you reached for it. As if you’d been burned by fire, you pulled your hand back hissing at the tingling sensation, but it was biting cold.
You looked up to glare at Choi San, who now had lost his smile. Instead, he was wearing an apologetic look as he moved his gaze from your hand to your face.
This was the other problem.
Not only did you see ghosts, but for some unknown reason, you could touch them as well. Trip over them, bump into them, hold them… almost as if they weren’t dead at all. It made your life hell. It might as well be with all the ghosts roaming around you.
When you were younger, it was entertaining. Your parents had said you were imaginative, little did they know you were speaking with corpses. The stories you heard from them were unimaginable. For the most part, they were just lonely so they always wanted to talk and you were always willing to listen. But as years passed on, it was a real hassle. Seeing beings that no one else can see is one thing, talking to them and interacting with them was a whole other ordeal. Soon you lost what little real, alive, friends you had, you stopped informing your parents of your ‘imaginary’ friends, and you began to ignore the ghosts altogether.
This power, blessing or curse, was isolating.
You’ve always wondered why you were the unfortunate soul to receive such power.
Whispers, that's all you've ever heard. Whispers of death, past lives… and grim reapers.
After that, you deemed this would be an issue for another time. As long as you ignore the ghosts, you should be fine.
“Please, Y/N—!”
Ignoring the pleading tone in Choi San’s voice, you bravely placed your hand on his and dragged the door open. You could hear him sigh behind you, but all you could think about was reaching your room at the end of the corridor.
Choi San was following you, that much was obvious. However, the moment the door to your room closed behind you, there was no more Choi San.
Of course, he could always phase right through your door. Most ghosts would, they can and will; completely ignoring all of your personal boundaries and begin chattering about their problems, their lives, dead as it is, and how you were supposed to fix everything.
But he never did. It was the other thing you admired about Choi San.
He was genuine, attentive, and understanding. You had asked him only once, drawing the line between the pair of you, that your room was yours. Ever since he’s never crossed that threshold.
Sighing, you walked into your cramped room. On your bed, lay another friend.
It was a puppy, a Golden Retriever. Smiling at how she perked up at your entrance, you moved to run a hand through her glistening coat of fur, so unbelievably soft to the touch, you began to feel yourself calming down.
As if sensing that you felt better, she nuzzled herself into your palm for one last pat before bouncing away, straight through your window. She seemed to only visit you when you were feeling down.
“San,” your voice so meek you doubted he heard you. But you knew he was still outside your door, waiting for you to ask him in, though he knew you never will.
“Yeah?” His tone was expectant, but there was still a sad lilt to it.
Rubbing your hands down your face, you hesitated. Were you sure about what you were going to do?
“Just… give me some time, yeah?” You sighed.
Both of you were just lonely, desperately wanting to talk to anybody. To share anything and everything. He speaks a lot, sometimes it was hard to ignore his voice, he was everpresent. Though not once has he told you what happened to him, how he died, tethered to this awful dorm and forced to haunt its corridors forever. He’s never asked you to search for his friends or his family, never asked you to meet his incomplete wishes, and he’s never even mentioned that you were his solution. And for that, you were grateful.
But for the most part, you understood Choi San—San, just San—maybe that was why you found it so hard to look him in the eye.
“I know, of course,” he said, a bit of his usual self returning although hesitant.
“Join me for dinner tonight?” You asked more than stating it. “In my room?”
San only mumbled his agreement before disappearing, or so you assumed because you didn’t hear anything else from him.
Exhaling deeply, you faced your messy room. Today was going to be a long day.
any feedback is much appreciated.
tagging: @someone-who-likes-broccoli
