Days remaining: 25 Bank Account: ₹300

The City Aquarium was closing in twenty minutes. The screaming toddlers were gone. The gift shop was locking up. The lights were dimmed to a deep, oceanic blue.

Elian walked through the main tunnel. It was a tube of glass surrounded by thousands of gallons of water. Lyra was having the time of her afterlife.

She wasn't walking. She was swimming through the air, doing a lazy breaststroke alongside a massive sand tiger shark. “Look at this guy!” she shouted, pointing at the shark’s jagged teeth. “He looks like he needs braces. Hey, buddy! Floss much?”

The shark, obviously, ignored her. “He's ignoring me,” Lyra huffed, flipping upside down to float on her back. “Rude. I’m the one who’s going to come collect him when he eats a bad license plate. He should be nicer to me.”

“Please stop harassing the wildlife,” Elian whispered, checking over his shoulder for security guards. “You look insane.”

“I look aerodynamic,” she corrected. She drifted over to a tank filled with flat, grumpy-looking fish. “Ooh! Look at these! They look like my boss. Flat face, no soul, dead eyes. I should take a selfie.”

She pulled a face, mimicking the fish. Elian couldn't help it. A small smile cracked through his “trying-to-be-invisible” mask. “You're enjoying this too much,” he said.

“I don't get out much, Elian,” she said, drifting toward the next exhibit. “Usually, my work involves hospitals and highway pile-ups. It's nice to see things that are alive and just... vibing.”

They reached the Jellyfish Exhibit. It was a circular room, pitch black, illuminated only by tall, cylindrical tanks glowing with neon blue and ultraviolet light. It was silent. The hum of the filters was hypnotic.

Lyra stopped swimming. She dropped to the floor, her boots making no sound. She walked up to the largest tank. Inside, hundreds of Moon Jellyfish pulsed, expanding and contracting like breathing hearts.

“Whoa,” Lyra breathed.

She pressed her face close to the glass. The blue light washed over her. “Look at them,” she whispered, tapping the glass. “No brain. No heart. Just goo and vibes. They are the ultimate life form. I want to be a jellyfish.”

“You want to be a brainless blob?” Elian asked, standing next to her.

“Think about it,” she said, tracing a jellyfish with her finger. “They don't have taxes. They don't have high school. They don't have to worry about 'leaving a legacy.' They just float and glow. It’s the dream.”

Elian looked at the tank. The jellyfish were beautiful, in an alien way. Then, he looked at Lyra.

She was mesmerized. Her usual sarcastic guard was down. Her eyes, usually sharp and mischievous, were wide and reflecting the neon blue light. The water's reflection danced across her pale skin, making her look like she was made of starlight and ocean water.

She looked... ethereal. For the last ten days, Elian had seen her as a pest. A roommate. A terrifying entity. But right now, in the quiet blue dark, she just looked like a girl.

Elian’s heart did something stupid. It didn't race. It didn't pound. It just... miss-stepped. It was a heavy, hollow thud in his chest, like he had missed a step on a staircase.

He caught himself staring. Not at the fish. At the curve of her eyelashes. At the way she bit her lip when she was focused.

She's dead, his brain reminded him. She is literally Death. Stop it.

But his eyes didn't listen.

“Elian?”

He blinked. Lyra was looking at him. One eyebrow was raised. “You're doing it again,” she said.

“Doing what?” Elian’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat.

“Staring into the void,” she teased. “You look like the fish. Mouth open. Glazed eyes. Are you hungry? Do you want to eat the jellyfish? Because that’s forbidden.”

“I wasn't...” Elian stammered. He felt the heat rising up his neck. “I was just looking at the... the reflection.”

“The reflection?” Lyra turned back to the glass. She pointed. “You mean your reflection.”

Elian looked. In the dark glass, he saw himself, a boy in a hoodie, looking flustered. Next to him, there was nothing. Lyra was standing right there, her shoulder brushing his arm, but in the glass, he was standing alone.

“I forgot,” Lyra laughed. “Vampire rules. No reflection. I really need to check my hair, though. Is it messy? Be honest.”

She ruffled her own hair, making it stick up wildly. “It looks terrible,” Elian lied.

“Liar,” she grinned. “I look iconic.”

She turned away from the tank, spinning in a circle in the center of the room, her coat flaring out. “Okay, Item #6!” she announced. “Visit the Aquarium. Check! That’s another one down. We are speed-running this life, Partner!”

She looked so happy. So alive, for a dead girl. Elian felt a sudden, sharp ache in his chest. A mix of that “misstep” feeling and something heavier. He realized he didn't want to leave this room. He didn't want to go back to the world where he was dying and she was invisible.

“Hey,” Elian said.

“Yeah?” Lyra stopped spinning.

“Stand there,” Elian said. “By the tank.”

“Why? You want a photo?” Lyra rolled her eyes. “Elian, I don't show up on cameras. You’re just going to have a picture of a fish tank.”

“I know,” Elian said. He pulled out his phone. “Just... stand there.”

Lyra shrugged. She struck a ridiculous pose, peace signs up, tongue out, crossing her eyes. “Make sure you get my good side!” she chirped.

Elian looked through the camera lens. On the screen, it was just an empty tank of jellyfish. But Elian knew she was there. He knew exactly where she was standing.

He snapped the photo. Click.

“Did it capture my essence?” Lyra asked, floating over to peek at the screen. She looked at the photo of the empty tank. “Wow,” she deadpanned. “I look skinny. Have I lost weight?”

Elian laughed. It was a soft, genuine laugh. “You look great,” Elian whispered.

He didn't mean the photo. Lyra paused. She looked at him. She caught the tone in his voice, something softer than usual. For a split second, her playful mask slipped. She looked confused. Maybe a little curious.

“You're weird, Elian,” she said, poking his forehead with a cold finger.

“I know,” Elian said.

“Come on,” she said, floating toward the exit. “Let's go. I want to see if the penguins are awake. I bet I can make them march in formation.”

She drifted away, humming the Jaws theme song. Elian stood there for a second longer. He looked at the photo on his phone. The empty space next to the glass. He saved it to his “Favorites” folder.

Then, he jogged to catch up with the ghost who was slowly, terrifyingly, becoming the brightest thing in his world.