Moodboard cover by chimyra.

Here's her tumblr.

I have an optional epilogue.  Let me know if you want to read it.

There is no such thing as gwishin.

All your life, you had seen things.  Things that people called gwishin.  You called them “echoes”.  When people thought of gwishin, they thought of the sentient spirit, of someone who had died, who could behave autonomously.

This was not the case.

In reality, what people called “gwishin” were mere  imprints on time, created under the proper atmospheric conditions, along with strong enough emotion, replaying for however long the the conditions stayed optimal, given the strength of the emotion.  

Some “recordings” played a few times, and then were never seen again.  And then there were some, which still played, centuries later.      

But walk up to any of these “apparitions” and try to have a conversation, and you would come away unsatisfied.  They continued along their recorded track, never deviating.  They weren’t gwishin.  They were merely echoes a person left behind, simultaneously as tangible and as ephemeral as their scent, and just as paranormal. 

You didn’t like talking about these things, however.  A newly-minted grad student, entering university to attain your Ph.D in biochem, you were a scientist who believed in observable, replicable phenomena, not ghoulies, and ghaesties, and long-legged baesties.  

Fortunately, you had a full ride, but unfortunately, you couldn’t take advantage of the free room and board.  You had a horrid track record for roommates, and you had drawn the short end of the stick in the housing lottery, so by the time you went to choose a dorm, all of the singles had been taken.  Not about to possibly risk your degree trying to deal with another obnoxious, inconsiderate moron, you decided to live off campus.

Your freshman roommate had disliked you on sight.  The highlights of her depredations had included locking you out, mocking you constantly in front of her friends and boyfriend for not being as ually advanced, and suddenly becoming as loud as possible–and desperately needing as much light as possible–any time you were trying to sleep.  

Your sophomore roommate had been from a desert clime, and had vociferously protested, constantly, about the humid heat of your summer.  You had no A/C in that particular dorm, and yet would constantly come home to a stuffy room, because she closed the windows, whenever you left, complaining “It’s so wet!  Even my paper is limp!”  On top of that, her alarm clock, which she had on snooze, was a police siren, so every morning gave you a heart attack as you awoke (repeatedly) to the sound of an impending police shootout.  Lastly, she never returned the raincoat you had let her borrow during one surprise spring shower.  Sticky git.

Your junior roommate decided that classes weren’t for her, and stayed at the room any time she wasn’t out drinking at pojangmachas and host clubs.  Of course, it wasn’t just her in the room.  Oh, no.  It was also her boyfriend, whom she loved.  Loudly.  And often.  Even while you were awake, with the lights on.  You could only assume that they thought you so engrossed in your homework, that you didn’t notice, or that the comforter they threw over their heads was some sort of soundproof barrier, but considering the fact that they were four feet away, both conjectures were thoroughly incorrect.  That, combined with the questionable substances in the shower and used condoms tossed in random places, made you begin to consider homicide.  

Your senior roommate was actually the best, but was just a bit…different.  She was obsessed with knick knacks, placing them on every available horizontal surface, until you were afraid to breathe for fear of knocking over a skull candle, or plastic dinosaur, or ceramic cat.  She insisted on brushing her teeth in the kitchen sink (only at night, though–admittedly–she never smelled of morning breath), left (unfortunately identifiable) smears in the toilet after handling her business, never washed her hands after using the bathroom, and had a tendency of blowing up the bathroom (which was in your shared bedroom) while you were studying, and then leaving the bathroom door open, but closing your bedroom door after she left, thus leaving you in a miasma of fetid derriere air.  At least she was nice.  And killed the spiders.  And took out the trash.  Really, it was kind of like living with a guy.  

So, you had decided to take the money allocated for your on-campus housing, and use it to find an apartment nearby.  After a few weeks of searching, you found a gem.  It was within walking distance of campus, in a charming older building that looked as if it had been around since the early 1900s.  The fully-furnished apartment was cozy–darling–and at $300 per month, (minus utilities, but plus free wifi!), you couldn’t say no.  

When you asked the elderly landlady why it was so inexpensive, a shadow passed her face, before it brightened back into its former sprightly expression.  “Oh, I have plenty of money, dear, I just enjoy having young people around.  You’re all so helpful, and pleasant, and I learn so much.  Besides, all of my children are out of the nest, and with my husband gone, I have no one to feed.  I’m used to cooking for a family of six, so it’s nice to have people who will take the odd batch of soup, or rice cakes off my hands.  

“Yes, but aren’t the other apartments $500?”  

She sighed.  “Well, dear,” she started carefully, “there has been talk of the apartment being rather…haunted.”

You snorted.  “Oh, is that all?  I’ll take it.”

PREVIEW:

Xiumin swallowed hard, as he watched your eyes in the darkness.  “Did you know that you have little ripples in your eyes?” he asked.

“I’m...sorry?”

“In the colour,” he clarified.  “It looks like a sandy beach after high tide.  Pretty. It’s pretty.”

“Thank you.”

“You have a...small mole under your chin.”  You blinked at him. “That’s...something else that I noticed.  That you may not know. I thought that you should know.”

You smiled.  “Now I know.”  Blinking, you realized that, he was slightly closer.

“You also have a mark behind your right knee.  It’s shaped like a wide M.”

“I always thought that it was shaped like the US state of Florida.”

He shook his head.  “No, it’s definitely an M.  I spent an entire afternoon staring at it while you were taking a nap on the couch, one time.”

You quirked an eyebrow.  

“It was before we...you know. Met properly.  I had nothing else better to do.”

Nodding, you blinked, trying to focus on his face, which had come even closer.  “Xiumin-sshi?”