(A/N: I've reached over 100 subscribers for this story, which might not be much to some, but for me it's kind of huge so THANK YOU so much for reading! Sorry about the change in formatting for this chap, it's 3 am and I'm too tired to care~)

The dream he has is very strange, but the details slip away like sand through his fingers the moment Donghae sits up. Strange is much better than the nightmares he was expecting last night.

The hotel room curtains are still drawn tight enough to block out sunlight, leaving the room dim with only the desk lamp on and light leaking into the little front hallway from the bathroom. It was the sound of the coffee maker that woke him up, still gurgling away. Donghae blearily crawls out of bed to pour himself a cup.

He’s sitting on the foot of the bed and squinting into his cup of astringent hotel coffee, contemplating opening the curtains, when Hyukjae pads out of the bathroom.

“Hey. I see you found the coffee.”

Donghae only hums and lowers his head to the brim, letting the steam curl over his skin and wake him up a bit.

“Okay?” Hyukjae says, and Donghae’s nod into the cup answers whichever question he was asking. The coffee’s fine, his sleep was fine. Hyukjae opens the curtains.

“Kyuhyun’s on his way over,” he says while Donghae waits for his eyes to adjust. “Hae.”

Donghae shakes himself a bit, realizing he isn’t being very responsive. He sets his cup down on the floor and smiles at Hyukjae, eyes squeezed shut, which gets him a laugh.

“I’m going to shower.”

Hyukjae nods and busies himself with pouring his own coffee.

When he steps out of the shower, Hyukjae is sitting on the bed and scrolling through his phone, their suitcases at his feet. Donghae shoves his rumpled pajamas into his suitcase, ignoring Hyukjae scrunching his nose at the untidiness.

“Kyuhyun’s ready to follow us out there. I called ahead and Leeteuk said they’re making breakfast.”

Plucking the cup of coffee from where he’d left it before his shower, Donghae settles next to Hyukjae and gulps it down. Hyukjae nudges closer until their thighs press together.

When they’d called Kyuhyun, he’d said it was likely that the audio files Hyukjae uploaded from his phone last night were simply corrupt. It could be a reasonable culprit behind the screech of static that had interrupted the recording, but it doesn’t make much sense for Leeteuk’s voice to be cut from playback, and only Leeteuk’s voice. No matter what Hyukjae did to mess with the volume and amplify the sound, nothing was there. Silence, static.

Donghae clears his throat. “Leeteuk is strong, don’t you think?”

He can feel Hyukjae watching hm. “Yeah, he is. Hey, are you sure –”

“I’m sure, Hyukjae,” Donghae says gently, making sure to meet his eyes as steadily as possible.

“You don’t have to do this.” He looks at Donghae pleadingly. Please don’t do this.

“I want to.”

his lips, Hyukjae tries a different tactic. “If you feel like you need to leave, you can. Kyuhyun and I can finish the investigation. Donghae, if anything happens to you –“

“Nothing will happen.”

Hyukjae closes his eyes briefly, rubbing a hand across them. “Look, I know we committed to this. I know this family needs help and I want to do this for them, but I don’t want to risk it. I honestly don’t.” He pauses because Donghae has reached over and settled a hand at his nape, running the back of his knuckles over the short hair. Hyukjae lets him, just for a moment, until he takes hold of Donghae’s wrist and gently removes his hand. “I can’t handle it if I let you get hurt again.”

It stings a little, that guilt in Hyukjae’s voice. Twisting his wrist out of his grasp, Donghae lifts his hand again, this time to trace a line along his jaw.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Hyukjae’s shoulders relax. “I know. Just please try to let me protect you, okay?”

“Okay.” Donghae can do that.

Hyukjae knocks their foreheads together with a resigned sigh, and in the next second presses his mouth to Donghae’s, soft but insistent. The kiss holds for one second, two. Three.

When Donghae pulls back Hyukjae doesn’t move, eyes still squeezed shut so tight.

-

The mood this morning is a complete turnaround from yesterday. When they knock on the door, Kyuhyun standing behind them and staring up at the house, there comes a shout of “They’re here!” from inside. A moment later, Shindong yanks the door open, Yesung’s small face peering around from behind him.

Donghae immediately falls into a 90-degree bow, hair falling off his forehead. Yesung giggles. Donghae straightens in time to see Hyukjae shaking his head at a wide-eyed Shindong.

“Ignore him, he’s crazy.”

Donghae grins and Shindong relaxes, but not without dipping his head toward them in a distracted, unsure bow of his own while Yesung scampers back down the hallway.

Leeteuk appears then, looking a lot more well-rested than he had yesterday. Donghae can’t exactly say the same for himself, but the presence that had hung heavy around the house yesterday is gone for now, and it seems like everyone can feel its absence.

“Hyukjae-ssi, Donghae-ssi, come in,” Leeteuk says. Hyukjae steps inside, waving him off as Donghae follows suit.

“No need to be formal,” he says, formally, just as Kangin enters the front room.

“Let’s strike up a bargain. Nobody speaks formally.”

“Except for him.” Hyukjae points a thumb over his shoulder at Kyuhyun, who bows a shallow hello.

“I’m Kyuhyun,” he says, ignoring Hyukjae, “I’m the tech guy. Please tell me this place has a good electrical set-up.”

“We met yesterday,” Leeteuk remarks with a dimpled smile, and Kyuhyun nods. “As far as we know the house was re-wired when it was renovated, you shouldn’t have any trouble. Anyone hungry?”

They trail down the outer hallway and into the kitchen, where the rest of the kids sit at a table surrounded with so much food that Donghae wonders how they can ever keep the kitchen stocked.

“You don’t have to feed us, really,” Hyukjae is saying while Donghae waves at Sungmin and makes eye-contact with a solemn looking Kibum.

“Are you kidding, we make enough food to feed a small army around here. There’s plenty to go around.”

They tuck in – Donghae realizes that he’s starving – and lets the noise of the busy kitchen settle around him. They’re nervous, but somehow they have complete faith in him and Hyukjae, and that’s going to help them a lot. Listening to Hyukjae answer Sungmin’s questions about his work, to Kangin exasperatedly trying to get Yesung and Kibum to stop arguing over the last of the short ribs, and to Ryeowook quietly slurping his soup is almost enough to put Donghae’s mind off the fact that he would have been heading home right now.

Byunghun had been easygoing when Hyukjae called last night to ask that he stay and watch Ara indefinitely. His classes haven’t started yet so it’s not really an imposition to ask him to stay in their apartment for a while instead of his tiny dorm. He’d offered to let them tell Ara herself over FaceTime and Donghae had nearly refused.

Hyukjae, holding the phone on his open palm between them, had looked at Donghae with expectation as Byunghun went to find Ara in her room. Donghae knew that he’d regret it if he didn’t see her. So they’d traded the phone the between them as they explained they had to work longer, and Ara had watched them with sleepy eyes and a small confused crease in her brow, touching the little screen with her curious hands.

The sound of the front door opening and closing shakes Donghae from his memories. “Hey! Where is everyone,” a new voice calls, then mutters, “this place is huge, what the hell.”

Kyuhyun looks up from the other side of the table and makes eye contact with Donghae, who shrugs.

“Oh,” says Kangin, “we forgot to mention that,” while Leeteuk trots into the hallway. “He’s a friend of ours, Kim Heechul. We told him you were coming and he thinks he needs to make sure you’re not trying to brainwash us or something.”

“Brainwash?” Donghae says, but before Kangin can answer Leeteuk is back with the newcomer in tow.

“This is what happens when you don’t invite Kim Heechul to a housewarming,” Heechul says by way of greeting. “You get cursed.”

He laughs at his own joke, and despite his rudeness the kids sound excited when they chorus a “Hi, Hyung.” Donghae exchanges a look with Hyukjae.

To Heechul’s credit, he beams at the five children, laughing as Yesung collides with his legs in a hug before turning to look at the strangers.

“Lee Hyukjae,” Hyukjae says, standing and ducking his head in a polite bow. “This is Lee Donghae and Cho Kyuhyun. We’re here to brainwash your friends.”

Heechul stares at him for a second. Then he laughs, loud and full of genuine humor this time, a sound that puts a smug smile on Hyukjae’s face. When Donghae lets himself focus on it, Heechul’s aura is full of energy in rolling, shifting waves rather than the steadiness of most auras. Donghae likes him immediately.

“Okay, Lee Hyukjae, Lee Donghae, Cho Kyuhyun. I don’t believe you. But this guy” – he claps Leeteuk on the shoulder - “looks like . So I don’t care what you say as long as these kids don’t have nightmares anymore.”

“Who’s getting nightmares,” Shindong mutters into his soup bowl, dour.

Heechul walks around the table and ruffles his hair while Shindong fights him off. “Ah don’t be like that Donghee. The ghost people are here to catch it or whatever.”

“We don’t catch anything,” Kyuhyun says calmly over the sound of Shindong protesting the use of his real name. “We record evidence.”

Kyuhyun hasn’t yet learned to ignore it. Donghae has been dealing with skeptics his whole life; there’s not much he hasn’t heard, and while Hyukjae can get a little tense about it, he doesn’t engage in arguments anymore. Kyuhyun is very good at holding a deadly calm.

“Speaking of recording evidence, thank you for the delicious food but we should start setting up. Kyuhyun? Want to do a quick tour of the house?” Hyukjae is already halfway out the door, so Kyuhyun has no choice but to follow.

Heechul watches them go, pulling a plate toward himself and smirking towards Donghae. “Well I’ll give myself a tour later, I guess.”

“You could have come to visit any time, Heechul,” Kangin says dryly, then adds, “Yesung, did you clean your dishes or did you leave them for Kibum again?”

Yesung, who is about to run out of the kitchen, halts in the doorway with Ryeowook at his heels. Sungmin laughs, eyes flickering towards Donghae – he’s very curious – and Yesung slinks back towards the sink.

Without Hyukjae or Kyuhyun, Donghae feels like he’s overstayed his welcome. He cleans his plate silently, listening to Heechul talk in winding words about what he’s been up to since Leeteuk and Kangin’s family left Seoul. None of it makes any sense, but everyone nods along anyway.

Excusing himself, Donghae walks out into the silent hall. He hears faint voices over the fading din of the kitchen, but takes the long way around the perimeter hallway. The other side of the house is quiet in more ways than one.

When he passes the entrance to the common room, Donghae sees Kyuhyun making vague gestures around them while Hyukjae nods along. They’re talking about setting up the base of operations in there.

“… should set up the backup generator too. And we can just have everyone sleep here for the night if you don’t think it will be too distracting to monitor.”

“Hyuk-ah.” Donghae leans around the doorframe. “Not in here.”

They both turn to look at him. Usually, base is set up in the center of a home; energy tends to circle around it like the eye of a storm. The center is hard to hold. It’s easier to operate from a quiet base, one less likely to be subject to interference.

There’s a safe place in this home somewhere, Donghae can feel it. But he doesn’t think it’s a place they can get to, and it’s definitely not the common room.

“The kitchen?” Hyukjae suggests.

Donghae smiles. “The kitchen is perfect.” He hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary in there, at least. He’d just walked out of the one room of the house completely filled with life, motion, positive energy. “In here, we probably want a full set-up.”

“IR?”

“Yeah, IR, motion sensors, the grid, we should probably get pictures in here before nightfall.”

“Mm,” Hyukjae glances at the notebook in his hands, “I thought the grid should go in the east wing.”

“We can move it if we have to,” Kyuhyun suggests.

“Yeah, we’ll see how things go tonight. Point the cameras there.” Donghae gestures to the fireplace. At Kyuhyun’s nod he steps back into the hallway, feeling Hyukjae’s eyes on him as he goes.

He continues on. The house is bathed in warm late-morning light, everything settled and sleepy feeling. Whatever it was that Donghae felt yesterday is absent for now, which is frustrating only in that he’s worried about tonight’s investigation being a bust. He passes the east common room entrance and stops – there’s Kyuhyun and Hyukjae’s voices again, but another one too, almost too quiet to hear. Donghae follows the sound of it down the east wing.

It’s Ryeowook. Donghae blinks; he must have slipped out of the kitchen when Yesung was being told to clean his dishes. He’s playing by himself in his room, which would be normal enough, but the five-year old’s chatter is hushed and punctuated by short pauses. Like a conversation with only one participant.

The door is slid all the way open, so Donghae knocks on the frame and Ryeowook jumps.

“Sorry. Can I come in?”

Ryeowook’s face lights up and he nods enthusiastically, making Donghae chuckle. “Will you play with us, hyung?”

“Sure.” Donghae moves into the room and sits down on one of the beds. “What did you mean by ‘us’?”

His face falls. After a moment of fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, Ryeowook says, “Nothing,” looking embarrassed.

“Isn’t there someone else, then?”

The child busies himself with a toy gundam lying among some others on the desk between the two beds. He shrugs one shoulder, extending and contracting the toy’s arm mechanically. He sounds hurt in a way someone his age can’t control when he says, “I thought you’d see. Appa said you can see stuff.”

“I can, sometimes. Ryeowook, do you want to tell me who you were talking to earlier?”

He shakes his head.

“Why not?”

“Yesung hyung said I’m making her up. Kibum hyung too, and he never lies.”

Donghae shifts on the bed, pulling the ragged cloth of the jegi out from his pocket. “Is this hers?”

Ryeowook’s eyes widen when he sees it. He’s quiet for a long moment, eyes focusing oddly to his left, then he breaks out into a grin again. “Yeong-Ja says yes!”

Donghae closes his fingers around the cloth, eyes falling shut. Yeong-Ja. She’s here now. He frowns, expecting the same positive signature he felt from the jegi yesterday, but instead is met with caution and fear.

He opens his eyes when Ryeowook touches his knee cautiously and says, “Donghae hyung, don’t worry. Yeong-Ja noona is nice.”

“I know she is,” he says, failing to resist the temptation to ruffle the hair on top of Ryeowook’s head. He shakes Donghae off, brushing his hair back down with his hands until the fringe falls flat again, laughing as he ducks out of Donghae’s reach. Donghae chuckles, glancing around the room in hopes that he might see something there. Yeong-Ja, if she’s still around, doesn’t seem to be strong enough to help him out any.

“How often does Yeong-Ja play with you?”

“Dunno. Not long. She always says she has to go.” Ryeowook hands him one of the gundams, sorting through a pile of accessories.

“Where does she go?”

“Ummm. Wiat,” he says, exchanging the sword that Donghae’s gundam is holding for a scythe, “Okay. She goes to hide.”

The word drops like an anchor into his gut, a great tug. He reaches out but can’t feel her anymore, the spirit having depleted what little energy she’d been using to communicate with Ryeowook, who doesn’t seem bothered by her absence. Donghae blinks against a sudden pressure behind his eyes, the lingering sense of someone else’s pain mixed with his own sadness about what that means for the spirit.

He glances down at the toy in his hands. Ara has some of these. Donghae bites the inside of his cheek.

“Ryeowook.” He swallows and holds a smile on his face. “Thank you, but I can’t play right now. Maybe later, okay?”

The child’s good spirits seemingly can’t be broken by the weight Donghae feels now; he simply nods and takes the gundam back when Donghae offers, standing it up beside the others on the table, his back to Donghae as he leaves in a rush back down the hall.

Some of his suspicions are starting to click into place, mind racing. It’s possible, even, that the children are in more danger than –

“There you are. We’re about to start unloading the truck, so… Donghae?” He must look startled and upset, because Hyukjae’s eyes are wide and worried. He places his hands on Donghae’s shoulders to steady him. “Did something happen?”

“Hyuk.” Donghae swallow a lump in his throat. “It’s a child. She’s just a little girl.”

Hyukjae relaxes, but his gaze on Donghae is still full of concern. “Did you see something?”

“Yes.” Donghae squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “No, I mean, not physically. Ryeowook told me.”

Hyukjae raises his eyebrows. “The little one?”

“Yeah, he told me he sees her. She’s weak though, and he said – Ryeowook told me she has to hide sometimes.”

The hands on his shoulders drop, Hyukjae’s gaze going unfocused. “Hide from what?”

“It’s using her,” Donghae says, hushed. “I think it’s drawing from her energy. Probably has been for a long time.”

“Which is why it’s so strong.” Hyukjae finishes the thought.

“A child,” Donghae repeats. He can recall the memory of how she had felt, a heaviness that no child should have to take with her into death. He wishes Hyukjae was still touching him. Instead, Donghae lets himself focus in on Hyukjae’s aura – a complicated sort of worry, yes, and that same sadness that Donghae is feeling, yes; but still there’s an overwhelming gleam of silver, resonant and calm, that helps him gather himself.

“Did you say we’re starting to set up?”

“Yeah.” Hyukjae’s mouth is set in a determined line.

“Okay. Let’s get this started.”

-

When Kyuhyun slides the van door open, Kangin lets out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of stuff. Are you going to use all of that?”

“Well, you’ve got a big house.”

Leeteuk takes a peek inside only to step back hastily when Kyuhyun shoves an electrical cord reel towards him. “Here, we have a lot of these.”

He hops back out of the van holding a computer monitor. “Just start grabbing things and bringing them into the kitchen. Don’t drop anything!” A pause. “Please.”

Leeteuk turns around to see Sungmin and Heechul trailing out of the house.

“Need a hand?” Sungmin asks Kyuhyun with a smile. Kyuhyun hefts the monitor in his arms for a better grip and nods.

“Sure, we don’t mind the help.”

Kangin snickers, low enough for only Leeteuk to hear. “Now he’s polite.” Leeteuk grins and grabs another reel of cord to take into the house.

The next hour passes quickly, Leeteuk grabbing equipment and letting Hyukjae tell him which room to leave it so that Kyuhyun and Donghae can start setting it up. They even manage to get the kids to help, charging them with taping all of the extension cords along the edges of walls so that nobody trips over them. Hyukjae explains that they’ll set up some of the equipment just to record for later review, like the IR cameras and EVP recorders, but they want to set up cameras that feed onto monitors in the kitchen so they can be watched live. There’s just too much ground to cover, and since they’re not working on a residual type haunt, they need to make sure they’re not missing anything in any part of the house.

“We’re not just doing this for research,” Hyukjae tells him, adjusting the settings on his thermal imaging device. “If there’s something here, we’ll need to get as much evidence as we can in case we need any help from the Church.”

“If there’s something here?”

Hyukjae pauses, looking off to the right. Leeteuk follows his line of sight and sees Donghae, who is currently handing off a camera tripod to Kyuhyun. “Legally, I can’t say that there’s any paranormal activity going on unless we capture inexplicable evidence. But I will say that Donghae is rarely wrong.”

Hearing his name, Donghae turns in their direction. He looks at Leeteuk with kind eyes, but the smile he’s wearing is only polite. There’s nothing in his expression that says Leeteuk should be worried, but he can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t something routine for either of them. They haven’t even started yet, but he knows this is something more like the cautionary stories they were telling at the university yesterday.

Donghae’s eyes flicker away and some sort of communication must pass between him and Hyukjae, because he turns back to Kyuhyun, says something that makes him nod, and then heads in their direction.

“Kyuhyun says that he should be okay on his own for now so long as Sungmin gives him a hand. If that’s alright?” Donghae tacks the question on like an afterthought. Leeteuk laughs.

“Sungmin has been trying to record EVPs with his phone for a week, I probably couldn’t stop him from helping if I tried.”

“Okay, good. We have a few things to discuss.” Donghae gives that polite smile again. “Kitchen?”

He has to head out to their car to grab something first, so Leeteuk goes to find Kangin in the interim. He finds him in the front hall talking to Heechul, who refused to move anything heavy twenty minutes ago and is apparently just going to help set up cameras when they’ve been placed.

“Jungsoo, I’m staying, right?” Heechul asks in a tone that means it’s not going to matter what Leeteuk says.  “I made a bet with that guy.”

Leeteuk blinks. “What? What guy?”

“I told him not to,” Kangin says, and he punches Heechul in the shoulder, who stares open-mouthed at him as if Kangin has just offended his mother. Or his person, which is the more likely case. “He told Kyuhyun that he thinks they fake the evidence and now they’re betting on whether or not we catch anything.”

“Heechul, are you saying we’re lying?” Leeteuk says it sternly and with a straight face just so he can watch Heechul panic a bit as he pack-pedals. He laughs exaggeratedly and bats Leeteuk on the shoulder like a cat.

“What! No, no, no. I believe you, Jungsoo-hyung.”

“I know you don’t,” Leeteuk says, but he loses it and starts laughing when Kangin mouths, “He’s going to lose” from behind Heechul’s back. Heechul realizes he’s being tricked and starts hitting Leeteuk in earnest, calls him an ungrateful bastard, and then storms off to presumably torment Kyuhyun some more.

To be honest, it’s the first time Leeteuk has laughed like this in weeks. He meets Kangin’s crescent moon-eyed smile, feeling hopeful for the first time.

Then he remembers Donghae and Hyukjae waiting for them in the kitchen and sobers. “They want to talk to us,” he says.

The smile fades slowly from Kangin’s face, but he leads the way.

-

The kitchen is now a mess of monitors and equipment, but there’s a clear space at the end of the table. The four of them mimic their seats from yesterday, only instead of a recorder between them on the table, there are a few computer printouts and hand-written notes. Donghae notices the slight nervousness running through Leeteuk now, apprehension that he doesn’t really blame him for. He smiles, but what can he really say? Nothing has gotten any worse since yesterday. But that’s hardly a reassurance.

Hyukjae reaches for one of the papers on the table.  “We want to just go over the research we did last night. There’s not much, but we’re hoping to fill in some blanks during the investigation. It’s always best to get as much history on a property that is possible to learn from, so we contacted the realtors who initially sold this house before its renovation. I haven’t heard back from them yet, so unfortunately we don’t have much to go on, but we think we have a clue about why the property was sold. It’s… well, not surprising.”

“I don’t think the guest house was operational for very long, maybe a month? Two?” Donghae says. “They had a website but it was taken down. There were some comments on a hotel review website, though.” He glances at the sheet of paper and then turns it around, sliding it across the table for them to see. Leeteuk leans over the page, a print-out of the website, scanning it curiously.

“Looks like most of the guests were foreigners, but we asked a Canadian friend of ours to help so you can trust the translations.” Most of the reviews are in English, but Donghae had scribbled the translations beside them. He’d texted Henry last night to ask about them. Henry had seemed non-plussed with his request, not even bothering to ask what the translations are for, and the conversation somehow ended with Donghae promising that he and Hyukjae would take Ara to visit him some time soon. He has a strange yearning for Henry to be here now – he’s always so bright, he eases the tension out of a room without even trying.

The first one says, “Really beautiful, not very relaxing. Children running the halls at night but I suppose that’s not the Guest House’s fault!”

And the next: “if you want to disconnect for a few days, this is the place to do it, because there is NO internet connection and the one tv they have was on the fritz the whole time I stayed here. not worth it, stay in seoul.”

“Staff not very friendly. Came for a relaxing time but was rushed to leave.”

And the last one, its English counterpart all in capital letters, just says: “DO NOT STAY HERE.”

Kangin points at that one. “Kind of blunt, huh?”

“These reviews just fit the profile, really,” Hyukjae says. “These aren’t evidence, but it does seem more likely that whatever spirits are here is what drove the previous owners to sell.”

“I don’t blame them,” Leeteuk blurts, then widens his eyes like he hadn’t meant to say that. Kangin’s arm moves across the space between their chairs and Leeteuk relaxes his shoulders. “Sorry. This house is just really important to us. We thought we were making the right choice.”

“You were.” Hyukjae assures him. “Nobody asks for this. And we’re – we’re glad you reached out for our help.”

After a moment of silence, Kangin speaks up. “So, we don’t have any clues yet, but what would cause something like this? I mean, what are your theories?”

Donghae opens his mouth and closes it again. Hyukjae leans back in his seat andcatches his eye, gesturing for him to go on. “Actually, we do have somewhat of a clue. I don’t want to worry you, but –”

“Hyukjae, we’ve placed everything but we can’t position the cameras until they’re connected to base,” Kyuhyun interrupts, leaning halfway in the doorway. “… Am I interrupting something?”

Kangin stands up, Leeteuk slowly rising out of his seat as well. “Do you need to set up in here? We can just move into the office.”

“It’s fine, sorry, Kyuhyun has no tact,” Hyukjae says, but he stands as well. Kyuhyun shrugs. “Can I see where you put the grid? We were just finishing up in here.”

Kyuhyun nods and disappears into the hallway. Donghae stands up uncertainly until Hyukjae meets his eye and inclines his head towards Leeteuk. Then he follows Kyuhyun.

“I’m sorry, but what didn’t you want us to worry about?”

Leeteuk looks nervous again and Donghae mentally kicks himself. “I uh, came across something this morning I think you should know about. Have you noticed anything odd about Ryeowook lately?”

Now Kangin looks distressed. Hyukjae is much better at this. Donghae concentrates on keeping calm and tries to see this from their perspective, gathering his thoughts carefully.

“This is not a bad thing for him, he’s in no danger, but I overheard Ryeowook talking with a benign spirit this morning.”

There’s a palpable silence, the other two staring at him. Then Leeteuk lets out a breath, amused.

“No,” Leeteuk shakes his head, “That’s just  - he’s young and the move upset him, that’s just an imaginary friend. I shouldn’t encourage it, with all that’s been happening I thought his little head was just trying to explain away the, uh… supernatural experiences.”

Donghae chews the inside of his lip, not sure how he can explain this. They had just spent all afternoon setting up equipment to catch proof, and now he is asking them to believe just his word. “It’s not an imaginary friend,” he says gently. “Ryeowook told me her name is Yeong-Ja. She’s not the malevolent being we’re dealing with here. She’s a spirit, something that was once human. Just a little girl who died. I’d love to back this up with proof, but for now I’m going to ask you to trust me, and know that she isn’t harmful.”

Kangin processes this, arms folded across his chest as he frowns at the floor. “What does this mean… about Ryeowook?” he asks, raising his eyes to Donghae.

“What does it mean?” he echoes.

“You told us people can’t see spirits without instruments,” Kangin clarifies.

“Oh. It’s the same as what we told you this morning; if a person is open to the spirit world, they act as a conduit. That’s what your son is. Children are more susceptible to supernatural experiences because their minds are more open in general. To them, every kind of reality is possible and believable. And Yeong-Ja… she needs him.” Donghae draws the inside of his cheek between his teeth again, trying to keep the worry out of what he has to say next. Leeteuk touches him gently on the elbow, urging him to continue, and Donghae smiles at him gratefully. “If she were the only spirit we’re dealing with, this ordeal would be routine for us. You two don’t have to worry about Ryeowook in particular, but I want you to know that Yeong-Ja’s presence here does indicate that this is more complicated of a case then the majority of what we deal with.”

“Are you out of your depth, here?” Kangin asks suddenly. His voice is sharp but concern is radiating from him visibly. He’s not upset with them, he’s afraid.

“They’ve seen worse,” Leeteuk says suddenly. “You weren’t at the presentation yesterday, Youngwoon.”

Donghae gets the feeling that a statement like that would be dismissive on anyone else, but Leeteuk says it calmy and Kangin’s expression clears, like he’s been chastised. He looks Donghae dead in the eye.

“I didn’t mean to insult you, I’m just upset.”

Beside him, Leeteuk nods imperceptibly, and Kangin relaxes.  Watching the display lifts something from Donghae’s shoulders – fear, he realizes. He suddenly feels a little more optimistic about their chances with this thing. Leeteuk and Kangin strengthen one another.

“Don’t worry about insulting me, I’ve handled worse,” he says, glancing a light punch off Kangin’s shoulder. He doesn’t react to it at all, but some of the concern clears out of his aura. “Leeteuk’s right, we have dealt with preternatural beings before, but I was hoping… I was really hoping this would be a straightforward case.” He doesn’t usually admit anything like that, and if Hyukjae were here he’d probably have stepped on his foot before he could finish that sentence. He rubs a hand over his face and continues. “Look, guys, this thing has power. Ryeowook told me that Yeong-Ja said she would keep him safe. That’s why he seems so comfortable talking to her and about her, why he isn’t afraid. But to me, that just indicates that there’s something she wants to keep him safe from. Remember what we said about spirits needing to draw on energy to manifest? That’s why Ryeowook can see her – she’s using a lot of energy.”

“Does that mean we’ll be able to catch her? Get a picture or something like that for proof?”

“Maybe.  But… it’s also what worries me. She isn’t drawing the energy herself: seeing her is just the result of the malevolent being using her presence to manifest. Whatever this demon is, it’s feeding off her. It’s taking her spirit energy, and the energies of your family, and of the things you all hold precious.”

He pauses. Hyukjae is back. He hasn’t come into the room yet, but when Donghae looks towards the doorway he steps into view, face expressionless. Leeteuk and Kangin twist to look, and Leeteuk actually gives a little wave, but Hyukjae only nods and looks back at Donghae, waiting for him to continue. He does.

“People are afraid to hear the word ‘evil,’ and I’m sorry to make you face it, but you’ll have to. Evil isn’t a state of being, it’s a principle. When someone – something – destroys innocence for its own gain, that’s when it becomes evil. You know the saying, bad things happen to good people?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “It’s because malevolence takes what’s pure and corrupts it. Your family is beautiful. Your family didn’t ask for this, and it doesn’t deserve this, but that’s why it’s happening to you. Being open to love is what draws this thing to you, but it’s also the only thing that can save you. Many people feel like they need to close themselves off in order to protect the ones they love, but the malevolent spirit has already taken hold of you. You have to let it know that it can’t win. It can’t take goodness away from you. It can’t have you.”

His voice breaks on the last and that’s what has Hyukjae coming fully into the room. Donghae tucks his head as Hyukjae settles cool palms to the side of his face and mutters Donghae’s name. Just his name, but his voice is imploring: are you sure you can do this?

Donghae looks up at him and puts on a smile, wry. “Haven’t you been listening?”

“Yeah,” is all Hyukjae says, but it’s resigned.

He moves off after he’s sure Donghae isn’t about to have another breakdown. He’s sorry for the thought, but Hyukjae can’t hide much from him and Donghae knows it’s always on his mind, that this case or that case might be the last straw and he’ll lock himself up again. But he won’t. He won’t let that happen again, and he won’t do that to Hyukjae again.

Kangin had sunk back into his chair when Donghae was talking, and only drags his hand away from his face when Hyukjae pulls out the chair across from him. Leeteuk is sitting quiet and close but his gaze far-off, unfocused. Donghae doesn’t listen to what they’re saying, lingering for a moment on Leeteuk, noticing that the exhaustion that had lingered before has returned. Yesterday, Donghae had sat at this very table and promised them that he and Hyukjae would fix this. Now he makes another promise, but not to them. You won’t get them, he thinks. You won’t win.

The house doesn’t answer.

Next time: Our investigation (finally) begins.