I found an empty seat near the window and dropped into it with a tired sigh.
The bus jerked forward, and the noise of the engine slowly drowned out the murmurs outside.
For a while, I just stared out of the window, watching the road move past.
Only after a few minutes did my shoulders finally relax.
Now that I had calmed down a little, my thoughts drifted back to the man on the street earlier.
The office worker.
The one with the mumbling ghost attached to his shoulder.
"I couldn't get the ghost off," I thought quietly.
It's not like I have some special power to exorcise ghosts or send them to the afterlife.
I don't chant spells or wave my hands around dramatically.
Most of what I know are just small tricks I picked up over time.
Ways to protect myself.
And sometimes, if I have to, those around me.
But even that has limits.
"Well," I thought, leaning back against the seat, "it's not like I have to care what happens to that man."
That sounded harsh, but it was the truth.
I can't help everyone.
If I tried, I'd lose myself long before I made a difference.
There were just too many ghosts.
I stretched slightly in my seat and decided to relax.
The morning had already been exhausting.
And school wouldn't be any better.
I reached the school and saw that everything was the same.
'Oh, how I wish a bomb would fall on the school.'
School was boring.
Same routine.
Same ghosts.
And the same bullies.
"Hey! Ian, you're finally here!"
A cheerful voice called out to me from behind.
I didn't turn around.
I already knew who he was.
Not because he was a friend, but because he was the only person who would talk to me freely.
Without hesitation.
Without fear.
Without caring about what others thought.
I ignored him.
"Why weren't you waiting for me?" he continued, clearly not bothered.
He started walking beside me.
Now that he was closer, I was reminded once again why so many girls—and even a few boys—had a crush on him.
Rick was handsome.
Not just handsome. Insanely handsome.
Tall, with neatly styled hair that somehow always stayed in place no matter what. Sharp eyes that always looked confident. A well-built body. A relaxed smile that made people feel like they were being noticed.
Everything about him stood out.
"Ian," he said, leaning closer, "you could at least say hi."
"..."
"Nothing?" he asked. "I thought you'd missed me."
Before I could respond, a sharp voice cut in.
"Rick! Why are you talking to that creep?"
Selena stood there, arms crossed, glaring straight at me. She grabbed Rick's arm and pulled him away.
Rick was the most popular guy in school right now.
A new admission who joined this year.
Students liked him.
Teachers liked him.
Even the staff seemed impressed by him.
He was the complete opposite of me.
"Ian, wait—" Rick started.
But I was already walking away.
My attention had shifted.
The man from the street.
The office worker.
He was there.
Inside the school.
The same man. Same tired face. Same slouched posture.
And the same ghost.
"What's he doing here?" I muttered to myself. "I thought he was an office worker."
I slowed my steps, watching him carefully.
The ghost—no, the Khumya—was still latched onto him.
Its curly green hair hung messily around its face.
It leaned close to the man's ear again, whispering things.
Its sunken eyes scanned the hallway slowly.
Then its head turned.
Toward me.
My stomach tightened.
"No," I whispered.
I immediately looked away and kept walking, pretending like I hadn't noticed anything.
It's always better not to be noticed by ghosts.
Once they realize you can see them, things become complicated.
Curiosity. Attention. Trouble.
A complete headache.
I passed the man without looking back and headed straight to my classroom.
As soon as I reached my desk, I grabbed my chair and sat down, pulling my bag close.
The classroom was loud.
Students were laughing, talking, gossiping.
Some were finishing homework at the last minute.
Others were scrolling through their phones like the world didn't exist beyond the screen.
No one talked to me.
That was normal.
I could feel a few eyes on me.
But no direct disturbance.
"It's better this way," I thought.
I've always been a loner.
Rick was the only weirdo who talked to me.
"I wish he'd stop," I muttered.
"Did you see the new teacher who's coming today?" one girl asked.
"Yes, I saw him in the staff room," another replied. "He looked gloomy."
"Speaking of gloomy," someone else laughed, "don't we already have someone like that in our class?"
The girls giggled and glanced my way.
I didn't react.
'Yeah, yeah.'
'Go on. Keep talking. I don't care.'
But my mind was already elsewhere.
The teacher they were talking about…
Was it the man with the Khumya?
And a new teacher?
In the middle of the session?
We have enough teachers in our school so why was a new one hired.
And why did he have to bring extra trouble with him?
A Khumya is an evil ghost.
Unlike the Dumbo Ghosts, they can talk.
They whisper into the ear of their host.
They twist thoughts slowly, patiently.
Making it impossible for a person to know what is happening.
If its their own thought or someone else.
The Khumya keeps turning their thoughts dark and depressive.
Khumya are either born from resentment at death or become corrupted after staying in this world for too long.
Not every Dumbo Ghost becomes a Khumya.
But when one does, it becomes dangerous.
They aren't physically stronger than normal ghosts.
They can't throw things or possess bodies.
But their words are enough.
If the host isn't strong-willed, the damage piles up slowly.
Doubt.
Anger.
Obsession.
And that man-
He didn't look strong-willed at all.
"What are you thinking so hard about?"
Rick's face suddenly appeared right in front of me.