Tacenda -

(n.) Things better left unsaid; matters to be passed on in silence. 

       The attic was, for all that it could be, the happiest place in the House. At the very least, the least depressing. The House, even with its glittering illusions, was depressing. The attic the least depressing. It was usually full of sunshine, with big windows and an aging roof letting it shine in. True it was dusty, but Baekhyun didn’t mind. Dust was better than rot. The rest of the House was dead. The attic was the only place that seemed to have life in it. He didn’t know if it was a trick or not. She didn’t really care.

     Baekhyun sighed. He aggressively stabbing his cigarette into the floorboards. He didn’t know if it pleased him or made him mad that no matter how much fire he flung around, the House would continue to live on. Baekhyun had the feeling the House would always stand. `It was in its own world. A place that Time had never known. The House was better than immortal. In his mind, it was basically god. Baekhyun remembered a story his uncle used to tell her. It was one of the things her mind let her know. It was about how a god of the “Old World” looked down on the earth and saw the humans his wife had created. Small, helpless little things struggling to survive in their new world. He looked down and saw a pretty girl with long hair and eyes that shone like stars. The god wanted her, but feared his wife. So he raced down to earth, caught up the unaware girl and swallowed her whole. That way, his uncle had said with a wink, they could be together forever.

      Baekhyun wondered if he and the House would be together forever.

     “Looking at the mirror?”

      Baekhyun acknowledged Sehun’s presence with a nod. He nodded back, settling down beside him. Baekhyun blew smoke in his face, idly wondering if he’d get angry at him. Sehun didn’t. He leaned against a creaking bookshelf. Sehun’s fingers ran through the dust on the wood, tracing random patterns. He glanced at the cracked mirror that Baekhyun had hauled out.

      “You can’t go through it until you’re willing to let go of your past,” he stated. Baekhyun glared at him.

     “But I can’t remember,” he hissed, tracing the crack. The light had long since faded by now. It was as cold as him, colder than ice. “So how on earth am I supposed to get into the In Between if I can’t remember what it is I’m supposed to forget?’

       Sehun shrugged. “I don’t know. I never said it made sense or that it was fair. I just told you what I know. You let go of your past, you go into the In Between and maybe you get into Heaven. It’s the rules of the House and I don’t get to make them up.”

        Baekhyun growled softly, pushing the mirror away from him. “This House is screwed up.”

       “Yes,” he admitted, more readily than he would have thought. “It is. But life is screwed up and so are we. Does it really even matter at this point?”

        Baekhyun scowled, standing up to pace the attic. He didn’t know what to say. Finally, he turned to him. “It has to matter Sehun!” he hissed. “Because if it doesn’t why the hell are we here? Why is any of this here? No, no if life is meaningless there would be nothing after death. There would be no House, no In Between, no Heaven and no hell. Life means something and so does this hell!” His face crumbled as if he were about to cry. “Or else we have nothing.”

       Sehun stood up, his face expressionless. He took Baekhyun’s face in his hands. He didn't even think of moving away. He just stood there, gazing up Sehun. The ghost's hands, he found, were much larger than his own, easily covering his cheeks and part of his jaw. There was strength in them With a tremble, he realized how simple it would be for Sehun to break his neck with a flick of his wrists. The ghost didn't. Sighing, Sehun pressed their foreheads together.

       “It means something,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “This means something. Two ghosts in an attic, something bigger than us brought us here.”

       “For what?” Baekhyun murmured.

       Sehun let out a breathy laugh. Gently, he pressed his lips against Baekhyun's. It was slow, soft, and nice. There was no clashing or desperate need. This was not a raging fire, but a quite flame. Baekhyun kissed him back until he faded away in embarrassment.

       All in all, a perfect first kiss.

       Baekhyun’s very first.

         They didn’t really think to bring up the kiss they had shared in the sunlight attic. Baekhyun didn’t feel the need too, and if Sehun did he said nothing. They had reached a point in their undead lives where it didn’t seem to matter. If the kiss was to bring change, it would happen slowly in a place where time stood still.

         They spent time together. Perhaps too much time, but Luhan spent all of his time with Xiumin and they seemed happy enough. It was almost sickening how much Luhan loved him. How much Xiumin loved him. Baekhyun wondered why, if they were so happy, did they remain? Wasn’t the idea of the House that you moved on from the scars of the living? So, he whispered to herself in the glittering illusion of the dining room. If they are happy, why did they not go into the In Between?

       Kris laughed at her for wondering. “Idiot,” he flicked his forehead. “Why bother questioning the House’s decisions? It’s our god stupid. You don’t understand god.”

       But you can try, Baekhyun hissed to himself. Sighing, he stood up. A flicker of movement caught his attention. Kai, the latest addition to the House, walked through the door. He wasn’t drifting. He was walking. Solid. No hint of being a ghost about him. Baekhyun silently watched him set a box down by the book shelf and open it. To his amusement, he began unpacking the books onto the shelf. He moved like a human. Like someone bound by the coils of humanity and life. Like someone trapped inside skin and bone.

       Baekhyun had bones, somewhere.

       His nightmares of water and dirt told him maybe they were underwater with the rest of him.

      But his soul had made it out. A tiny, flickering thing he was now. No memories worth speaking of. Only nightmares and death. But he, like the others, moved as they were. Souls without bodies.

     Kai moved like he was alive. This, Baekhyun thought to himself, curling his fingers around a cigar. This will be interesting. Sehun drifted to his side, raising through the floor like smoke. He slipped his hand around his wrist. Slender fingers wrapping themselves around skin as white as bone. Baekhyun smiled softly, pointing his free hand at Kai. The boy didn’t seem to notice them. They were just ghosts after all.

      “He thinks he’s still alive,” he said.    

      Finding proof of Kong Tae Won’s guilt was easier than it should have been.

    Far, far easier. Chanyeol simply slipped into his house while the monster was out. He didn’t know how to pick locks, but a window in the back was open. He climbed inside and searched the small, sparsely decorated house. The kitchen held nothing. A few boxes of cereal and some ramen. The living room held nothing but books. The bathroom likewise. Tae Won was immaculate in his habits.

        Damn this! This isn’t what I need.

       In the bedroom. Chanyeol tore it apart looking for something. The dresser held nothing but clothes. The nightstand was empty save for an alarm clock. The man had few possessions and none of them screamed murder. But there had to be something. Chanyeol could feel it in the way his bones ached. in a deep breath, he checked under the bed. He found what he was looking for. A box, tucked under the bed. Tae Won must have thought no one would ever suspect him. Rage rising, Chanyeol pulled the box out and flipped the lid open. 

       He wanted to scream. 

       ing BASTARD. 

       Baekhyun. Tae Won had photos of Baekhyun. They made Chanyeol sick. Hundreds of photos of his best friend. At school, at work, at cafés, with Chanyeol, everywhere. Pictures of him smiling, laughing, scowling. Blurried images of him splashing puddles in rain and yelling at someone in sunlight. Pictures of him crying, pictures of him at school, with Chanyeol. Standing outside his house fumbling for keys. Baekhyun's life seen in a hundred photos stretched out in his hands. 

       Tae Won had been obsessed with Baekhyun since he was a freshman in high school. How could I have not seen this? How could I have been so stupid? Stupid, stupid, stupid! Chanyeol cursed under his breath. Hands trembling, he tried to find what he needed. He found the damning evidence.

       A single photo of Baekhyun in the river. His legs bloodied, face down in the water, hands floating limply above his head.

       Chanyeol cried.

       And cried. And cried.

       Then he hated. Pulling Baekhyun’s scarf tightly around his neck, Chanyeol left. He took the box with him. Even though he wanted nothing more than to burn it to ash, he needed it. Baekhyun needed it. When he got home, Chanyeol placed the photo that had stood on his dresser for over a year inside of it. It was photo of Baekhyun and Tae Won. Taken on a whim, he had liked the way he’d smiled in it. Tracing his face lovingly, he shut the box lid. On the box lid, was a typed note he printed off his computer.

       I killed that boy because I loved him too much. 

       Chanyeol put the box inside of a cardboard box and wrote out his address on it. Then he wrote Tae Won's address as the sender. Then he left it on his dresser. He had flirted with the idea of sending it to Baekhyun's house. He decided against it. Baekhyun’s parents were still in mourning and they didn’t deserve to see this. They would have to be happy with justice done. His mother had made it a point to come into his room while he was at school to clean. He supposed it was her way of supporting him. She'd notice it tomorrow, but he doubted she'd open it. Not until the end of the day, 

      A day was all Chanyeol needed to see justice truly done.

     Tae Won was going to die for taking Baekhyun away from him.