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Than’s breath hitched.
The boy wasn’t flickering or half-faded like most spirits he saw. He looked almost alive — glowing softly under the moonlight, his presence cold but grounded, like frost forming on glass.
Than stepped back instinctively, crunching dead leaves beneath his shoes.
“W–Who are you?” he managed, voice hoarse.
The ghost grinned wider. “Oh? You can speak. I was beginning to think you were mute.”
Than didn’t answer.
The boy moved closer, soundless — not a rustle, not a breath. Only the faint shimmer around his skin gave him away.
“You can see me, hear me, and speak to me,” he mused aloud, eyes gleaming. “That means the bond really worked.”
“What bond?” Than asked, eyes narrowing.
The ghost tilted his head, amused. “You tore the ribbon.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Well, intent doesn’t matter much to spirits. Rules are rules.”
He leaned in so close Than could feel the chill radiating off him.
“You touched it. You broke the seal. That means you're mine now.”
Than’s heart pounded. “No.”
“Oh, but yes.”
“I don’t want to be part of this. I didn’t mean to release you!”
“You really think most curses care about what humans mean to do?” the ghost replied, raising one eyebrow. “That’s adorable.”
---
Than turned to run — but after just five steps, pain lanced through his chest. Like someone had hooked his ribs with a wire and yanked. He stumbled to the ground, gasping.
Behind him, the ghost sighed. “Yeah, you might want to test the range before you go sprinting off like that.”
Than looked back, panting. “What the hell... was that?”
“See, that’s the fun part,” the boy said, strolling over. “We’re bound now. Spirit-binding. I can’t leave you, and you can’t leave me. Try to go more than... say, fifteen meters, and it’ll hurt.”
“Hurt who?”
“Both of us.” The ghost sat cross-legged in the air, floating above the ground like it was nothing. “But I get used to pain. You? Not so sure.”
Than stared at him, stunned. “What... are you?”
The ghost’s smile faded, just a little. For the first time, something dark passed behind his eyes.
“I’m what’s left,” he said quietly. “Of someone who died angry. Forgotten. Bound.”
---
They sat in silence for a long minute.
The shrine creaked in the wind. Somewhere in the distance, an owl cried. The moon cast cold silver shadows between them.
Than pulled himself to his feet, still shaken. “What’s your name?”
The ghost paused. His gaze flickered up toward the trees. “Phop.”
Than blinked. “That’s it? Just... Phop?”
“Phopphadon Rattanasetthi, if you want to be formal,” the ghost said with a playful smirk. “But I doubt we’ll be using surnames now, darling.”
Than flinched. “Don’t call me that.”
“Oh? Then what should I call you?”
“Than.”
“Hmm.” Phop gave a slow, lazy spin in the air. “Than and Phop. Cute.”
Than crossed his arms. “This isn’t a game.”
“No,” Phop said softly, suddenly serious. “It’s not.”
And that was when Than noticed something strange: the shrine had stopped creaking. The air around them was too still. Not just calm — dead.
He turned toward the woods.
Something was watching them.
Phop noticed it too. His grin vanished. He floated down to stand beside Than, eyes focused.
“There’s something else here,” Than whispered.
Phop didn’t answer — he only reached out and touched Than’s wrist. The shock of it made Than flinch. Ghosts weren’t supposed to touch. They usually passed right through.
But Phop’s hand was cold. And solid.
“What are you doing?” Than hissed.
“Protecting my anchor,” Phop muttered. “If something’s coming... it won’t touch you. That’s my job.”
Than’s heart twisted. Not with fear. With confusion. Because for the first time, a ghost wasn’t asking for help. Wasn’t begging. Wasn’t crying.
14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ55uCi2UG2T
It was defending him.
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