When Aarin woke up, the sun hadn’t risen yet. He blearily looked around and realized the lamp had been put out, and they were in the dark. He could hear Kian snoring quietly behind him, and he could feel Shimu still curled up against his chest. He yawned, gently moved the cat to the warmth of his pillow, and sat up.

The door to the hut was open, letting a gentle breeze in. Against the frame, with his back to the wall and his face turned towards Aarin, sat Nirvan.

Has he been watching?

Aarin shook the thought from his head and made his way towards the door as well.

The sky was a gorgeous indigo colour, and the stars were as clear as ever. The sight of a beautiful, full moon instead of the festival’s red moon was comforting. The field outside the hut was quiet, but not unsettlingly so. 

“Sleep well?” Nirvan asked softly and moved to allow Aarin some space.

“Mn,” he responded, leaning against the door but not quite sitting down.

Nirvan looked up to stare at him, and for a moment, Aarin was reminded of simpler times. He averted his gaze as his face turned a faint shade of red.

“Ghosts need sleep too,” he said after a long stretch of silence.

“I don’t mind,” Nirvan shrugged and smiled. Aarin took in a deep breath. What greeted him was the dampness of night. 

With the history we have, surely we are beyond the need for small talk?

“Have you been following me?” he cut to the chase. “I… I think I’ve sensed you before.”

Nirvan hummed thoughtfully.

“I’ve looked,” he said simply. “I tried to reach out many times, but I didn’t get a connection until just a few days ago.”

“So it was you who directed me to the river?” Aarin questioned.

“Not me,” Nirvan responded, but he could hear a strange sort of resentment in his voice. Aarin didn’t pry.

“Never mind that,” he waved it off. “Should I assume you had nothing to do with the locket either?”

Nirvan didn’t answer, instead leaning against Aarin’s leg. He sighed as if it somehow lifted centuries' worth of weight off his shoulders. Aarin didn’t push him away, though his immortal heart beat wildly faster.

“That one was me,” Nirvan said playfully. “How else do you think you made it into the palace? Every servant in there needs a mark of approval from a ghost lord.”

“Ah…” Aarin trailed off, embarrassed. So he had been blindly walking into danger, like some lost lamb. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay,” Nirvan looked up with a smile.“I’m just glad I got to see you.”

“... Nirvan, I-”

Aarin felt a familiar pain bloom in his head. He winced and let out a small gasp of surprise. Nirvan scrambled up to hold him and ask what was wrong, but he couldn’t respond. 

“You never cease to surprise me,” came the Bookkeeper’s familiar voice. She sounded amused, which was never a good sign.

“What have I done to pique your interest now?” Aarin grumbled.

“Two exorcisms and you’re still conscious,” she said as if it were an accusation. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Aarin didn’t know what to say, now. How was he supposed to respond without diving into the past? But then again, if anyone knew the truth of his history with the ghost-lord, it would be him, Nirvan, Niryati herself, and the Bookkeeper.

“A ghost happened to be passing by,” he said vaguely.

“A ghost? What do you-” the silence that followed spoke volumes. She cleared her throat and continued. 

“Right. Well, that’s not all I wanted to speak to you about. There’s a council assembly in ten days, and Niryati wishes for you to join her.”

Aarin was confused. Council assemblies weren’t common; it was rare for the gods to convene over anything. Something had to have gone wrong. Even more alarmingly, what the hell did he have to do with it?

“I can hear that brain of yours go,” the Bookkeeper tutted. “You’re not in trouble, trust me, you’d know.”

“Very convincing,” Aarin said sarcastically. The Bookkeeper chuckled in response.

“Just be prepared,” she advised. “And, between you and me, bring him with you, too. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when...”

With that, her voice faded, the connection severed, and Aarin was back outside of his own mind.

“... Aarin, Aarin- hey,”

Nirvan’s worried voice came to him in muffled fragments before his ears stopped ringing. He was still standing against the door, but now supported by Nirvan, too. The ghost lord was searching his face for answers, eyes wide with concern.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he tried to reassure the ghost-lord, “This is normal.”

“That’s not a comforting thing.” Nirvan gently brushed his palm over Aarin’s forehead, as if checking his temperature. 

“I don’t have a cold; Reapers can’t get sick,” Aarin protested. “It was the Bookkeeper. She does that sometimes.”

Nirvan was about to say something when a loud yawn sounded from inside. Both turned their heads just in time to see Kian wake up. 

The junior blinked slowly, as if he were still dreaming. What he must’ve thought seeing a ghost with a reaper’s face in his hands, Aarin didn’t know. He didn’t bother to ask either, the embarrassment was enough as is. 

Aarin pushed the ghost away hastily, turning to face his junior. 

He heard a small sound of protest from Nirvan but vehemently ignored it. Shimu woke up just in time, growling once she realized her human had been near the ghost. She ran over to Aarin and began rubbing his legs, as if to cover Nirvan’s scent with hers. Aarin massaged his temples.

“Feeling okay?” he asked, turning his attention back on Kian.

“Yeah.” Kian looked away and sheepishly rubbed his nape. Aarin bent to pick up Shimu, holding her over his chest.

“You have a lot of explaining to do.”

By the time Kian was awake enough to explain, Lina had woken up as well. They all settled outside the hut. Aarin sat cross-legged with Shimu in his lap, while Nirvan stayed behind him with his back to the wall. The juniors had decided to sit on the steps. Lina braided her hair and glared at Kian the entire time. 

“So after we split up, I bumped into this ghost, and- and she had a bunch of wine, so much wine, wine I’d never seen or smelt before! And- and I might’ve taken a sip or two-”

“You drank two jugs.” Lina smacked him over the head. “Two entire jugs.”

“Ow!” Kian rubbed his head but didn’t protest. He tried to speak a few times after, but shame seemed to have taken the words from him. 

“He didn’t have anything to pay the vendor with,” Lina sighed and continued for him, “So she caused a ruckus. Said ruckus agitated two of those ‘card-less’ spirits. We had already caused enough of a scene, and things were looking bad, so I grabbed him by the collar and ran.”

After finishing, she turned her attention to Kian once again and grabbed his ear.

“If you’d only listened to Master Aarin, none of this would’ve happened!”

“Let go, let go, let go-”

“Idiotic,” Aarin said, voice loud enough to cut through their squabbling effectively. “What you did was idiotic, Kian. If Lina hadn’t been there, you would be dead.”

Kian hung his head in shame, a mumbled apology on his tongue. Aarin sighed and shook his head.

“Go easy on the kid, he looks guilty enough,” Nirvan piped up from behind him.

“Do you want me to scold you as well?” Aarin grumbled. Shimu joined him and hissed at Nirvan for good effect. The ghost raised his hands in surrender.

“In any case,” Aarin gently scratched behind Shimu’s ears, “both of you are alive, and I don’t have to file fallen reaper reports, so everything’s good in my books.”

Despite his cold words, he was truly glad the two were okay. He didn’t care for them, he didn’t, like he didn’t care for the cat- but they were good kids. He wouldn’t want harm to come to them. They seemed to pick up on the relief in his voice, judging by the smiles on their faces. Or perhaps they were just glad they weren’t getting told off. Either way.

“Alright, enough about that.” He cleared his throat. “Enjoy the day as much as you can. We return to the base in two days. After filing your reports, you will return to classes.”

“And what will happen to me, Master Aarin?” Nirvan leaned forward and rested his chin on Aarin’s shoulder. 

“You… will come with me.”

Nirvan didn’t breathe for a moment before letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“Alright, I shall do as you say.”