Chapter Text
A ghost sits in the backseat of this car. It’s fitting for the occasion, really. Heading out at midnight for a string of disappearances along winding roads that passes by a forest shrine.
They, the ghost, insisted on not taking the shotgun on the account of avoiding ‘a lapse of focus for the driver due to your unfamiliarity with me’. Said ghost also pressured the detective to go by a first name basis when they first met. An accidental head tilt by a befuddled Iroha was only answered with a slim smile. The same look they see in the rear view mirror of the cop car. Midnight moonlight shines on Yachiyo’s hair alongside their cerulean eyes.
Indecipherable. That is a problem.
A state-hired paranormal consultant didn’t conjure up the most normal of an appearance in Iroha’s head when they were assigned to both the case and the individual. Regardless, their initial meeting didn’t leave too much of a shock to Iroha, aside from a lingering sense of perturbation. Iroha chalked it up to bad coffee and tried to leave it at that. That unease followed them to the car and climbed into the backseat, prim and still. The furthest seat away and yet still too close. The only presence Iroha could discern from the passenger was that weightless stare whenever they glanced behind. Eyes too visible in the dark to have nothing behind them.
“Iroha, could you please focus a bit more on the road? This is getting kind of scary.”
A mercurial flat tone comes from the ghost. The word ‘rehearsed’ comes to Iroha’s mind, but they try to shake that off with a good conscience. As good as a conscience that internally calls their new partner a ghoul.
They are right though. Iroha adjusts with some newfound poise and concentration in their handling. It falters ever so slightly as they try to gauge the passenger’s reaction from the mirror. Contentment is written on their face but nothing on it really moved. It stares and stares to the back of the driver’s head, the front window and the moon ahead all at once.
From the heightened awareness, a question pops into their head.
Would you rather have Yachiyo, a real ghost or a serial killer behind you right now?
They catch a shallow exhale. Iroha doesn’t know.