(hey so I'm thinking something but I need your go ahead for it, and I need it before I post my reply. What if the apartment he's staying at is the old LeTour mansion, converted to have a few different apartments inside?? And then his rooms are where Fio's rooms used to be?)
(Sure, that works! I really like that idea :)
(perfect!)
(Also not going to introduce Fio quite yet)
The old mansion was well kept, if a little creepy looking. The outside was painted a pale grey, and the inside was done in careful neutral tones. His own apartment seemed well-kept, with wooden floors and a few pieces of furniture inside. A table and chair set, a couch and coffee table. In the bedroom, a bed and nightstand, along with an empty bookshelf. In the bathroom was a claw foot bathtub with shower attachment, and the sink, while a little old-fashioned, was still quite serviceable. A few minutes after his arrival, there was a knock at his apartment door. "Hello? It's the landlord!" Called a chipper female voice. "Or, the landlady, I suppose."
“Oh-y—coming!” he called, moving the boxes aside, running a hand through his hair and struggling to open the door. After he figured out again how handles worked, he opened it, looking more nervous than he should have. Though he masked it with a smile, giving a nod to the woman before him.
She was rather short, with a good amount of curves. "Hello!" She greeted with a smile. "I just wanted to welcome you to the place. My spouse and I manage the mansion for the owner, and we live on the floor level. I just wanted to let you know that if you have any questions or need anything, just come downstairs and knock, we'll get everything straightened out." She had her hair back in a ponytail, and it was dyed all sorts of crazy colors. But she seemed like a kind woman, with a good heart. "Do you have any questions, first of all?"
Akira gave a stiff smile, nodding as she introduced herself. “Yes, I believe I spoke to your spouse on the phone. It’s nice to meet you.”
At the question, he looked back to the apartment, then back to the woman.
He considered asking her about the rumors, about the supernatural-ity of the place, but decided better of it. He shook it off, just giving her a friendly shake of his head.
“I don’t believe I have any questions, thank you.”
She nodded a little, shaking his hand. "Of course! My spouse and I, we just run the place, we don't own it. The old place has lots of stories attached to her. A shame old lady LeTour doesn't want to live here, though I can understand why. In the interest of transparency with renters and honesty, I must tell you that a murder did take place in your rooms, although it was nearly a hundred years ago so there shouldn't be any reminders of that. This has led to lots of rumors of a ghost haunting this floor and especially these rooms, but neither I nor my spouse has ever seen it." She seemed perhaps a little chatty, though that wasn't a bad thing. "Oh! I'm Iris, by the way."
Akira listened to her explanation intently. He’d always loved all things paranormal, and used it often as writing inspiration. He was a scary stories kind of guy, drawing excitement from the mysteries.
“Oh— I’m Akira,” the boy said, nodding. “And don’t worry, I’m not scared even if it is paranormal. I like this kind of stuff.”
That’s probably way too weird, he thought, desperately trying to think of a way to backtrack.
She laughed a little bit. "Yes, so do a lot of our renters." she replied with a shrug. "If you want paranormal or at least spooky stuff, the grounds around the mansion are a great place to look. The original mausoleum of the LeTour is still on the grounds if you'd like to take a look in there, and my spouse and I are both well-versed on the history of the property and family, if you'd like to hear any."
“Oh, absolutely, I’d love to,” he said happily, feeling more like himself now that they were on a subject he was well versed in. He tugged at the edge of his sleeve, more from curiosity than nervousness.
“Although, I probably should take a while before exploring,” Akira continued tiredly, sighing. “It’s been a long day of moving around. I’d love to hear about it sometime— absolutely.”
He gave a genuine smile, glancing over to his minuscule boxes and then back to Iris.
Iris nodded a little bit. "Of course. Do you want any help, or do you think you've got it on your own?" she asked. "You seem…a little young, is all." her eyes flickered around for a moment before returning to Akira. "Oh, also, your bedframe is original to these rooms, so it's a bit old-fashioned. It hasn't really been moved much since it's so heavy. The mattress is new, though, so don't worry about that."
“Oh, no, no, I’ll be okay. Thank you, though,” he said lightly. “And that’ll be nice to see. I love older styled furnishings. They’re really pretty, as opposed to modern ones. At least, in my opinion.”
Akira paused, realizing he was rambling slightly. He gave a small breathy laugh, a hand finding his necklace and tugging on it slightly. The charm on it clinked together, but too quiet to be relatively audible.
Iris smiled gently. "Alright. I'll be on my way, then. My spouse and I are in the apartment on the main level, so if you need anything, don't hesitate to knock." she replied, stepping back. "I'll give you your space now."
“Thank you, again,” he replied. “It was nice meeting you, Iris. I look forward to being part of this… house…?”
He trailed off, pushing it aside and just giving a nod as he turned back to his boxes. With a deep breath and a timid smile, he picked them up, carrying a few and placing them atop the coffee table. He drew out a small pocketknife, cutting the tape and popping open one of them. He grabbed the speaker from inside— it was really what he was looking forward to most. It was a small portable one that he connected to his phone with a few clicks, then started playing a few songs.
Akira made sure to keep it at a low volume as to preserve everyone else’s ears within the complex, and set to unpacking.
Iris nodded a little. "Of course. We're happy to have you." she replied, then left, heading back downstairs. The apartment seemed well taken care of, the wood floors a little warped but in good repair nonetheless. Sure, it was obvious that it was an older place that had been rewired, but it didn't look all that bad. The kitchenette was as modern as possible, with a dishwasher, stove, oven, sink, anything he would likely need and was typically in a kitchen.
Akira really didn’t have much to unpack in the first place. Within the first hour he was rid of any additional boxes, still having a few things cluttering the coffee table he had to put in his room. One was a small canvas painting his brother had done for him. Akira would always cherish it— even though his brother was younger at the time, and kept calling it “horrible” as he got older. Akira never agreed— although it was abstract and he wasn’t that artistic of a person, he still enjoyed how it looked.
The other was a small record player, and a stack of vinyls. Both were gifts from his grandparents, and he loved them greatly. The only other thing coating the table was a small guitar. One he had actually bought himself.
With a sigh, he stood up, grabbing the majority of the items and waddling his way into the bedroom.
There was someone sitting at the window. It was an older-style window, large and filled with lots of small panes instead of one large one, and it had a window seat beneath it. Curled in the window seat with a book in his lap was a man who looked a little older than Akira. When the light fell on him, though, it almost seemed to partially go through him. He left no shadow on the floor, and didn't seem to notice the other coming in.
Akira stopped dead in his tracks, dropping the record player. It fell to the floor with a deafening crack, and just left him there standing uncannily still. His heart beat faster than he willed it to— much faster, as he let out an extremely shaky “H-hello?”
The figure looked up, tawny gold eyes widening. "Oh." he said faintly, standing and setting the book down. His feet didn't quite seem to touch the floor, and the book vanished when it left his hand. He studied Akira for a moment, the sun shining right through his body.
Ghost. Yes. He’s a— what— he’s a ghost. Holy hell.
Akita’s mind raced a few million miles an hour, his heart keeping record pace alongside it. His eyes stared wide and he couldn’t bring himself to move. Nor talk, yet he tried his best.
Despite knowing positively the answer, Akira asked.
“W-what are y-you?” he said, his voice even more fearful than before.
Fio blinked at Akira, trying to figure out what to do. "Nothing." he replied slowly. "Nothing that matters, in any case." his eyes flashed around the room, before returning to Akira, studying him and trying to figure out what to do.
“So, you’re a ghost? I mean, not that that doesn’t matter, ghosts are actually really cool in my opinion, I wasn’t saying they don’t mean anything— you matter, I mean— or maybe you didn’t, I can’t make assumptions— wait, no, I’m sorry, you matter…”
Akira looked up to the man innocently, trailing off once he realized he had rambled.
“S-sorry,” he said sheepishly, tugging at the end of his shirt. “I just…. You are a ghost, right? Or am I insane?”
Fio blinked at the rambling outpour, looking a little confused for a moment. "Yes. I suppose ghost is the best definition." he replied slowly as he looked at Akira. Fio's clothes were old-fashioned, from a different time than this one, and his shaggy, wavy hair hung into his face a little.
“That is….,” he mumbled, trailing slightly. “The coolest damn thing ever.”
With his second sentence, Akira lit up like a light, certainly looking 100x more animated and bubbly. He set down the rest of his things, stepping over his record player and keeping his eyes locked on the man. He circled him, then faced him, taking a hand and trying to poke the ghost with it.
Fio backed away a little when Akira started poking at him, frowning just a little bit. "Please don't touch me." he said, ducking backwards. Akira could only sort of make contact with him. If the other pushed too hard, his hand just went straight through Fio's body.
“Oh— heh— right,” Akira mumbled, face flushed. “I’m so sorry. It’s just really cool.”
He stepped back, giving the man his space. He almost felt as if he should apologize for… well… moving in. It was clearly this ghost’s place, so in this case, Akira was the one who was invading.
“What’s your name?” he asked, seemingly more composed than he had been. It was mask time, he reminded himself. Even if it was one of the dead, he figured he should still make a decent impression… if that hadn’t already been thrown out the window.
"Fio LeTour." Fio replied, looking at Akira carefully. "Most people scream when they see me. And you are?" he raised his eyebrows slightly, smoothing out his clothes and glancing around the room again, his eyes coming back to Akira.
“Hiroto Akira,” he said, his own name sounding a bit weird on his tongue. He assumed they didn’t have many names like that near here. “But I go by Akira.”
It was true— everyone he knew called him Akira, except for his parents, or his grandparents when they were mad or wanted to show authority, dominance even. He never got used to anyone using his first name.
“And why would I scream?” he asked, tugging at his sleeve. “I’m a fan of the paranormal.”
"I don't know. I was only saying that most do." he shifted a little, glancing to the window, then to Akira. "And that is not a name I have heard. It's not…you are not from New Orleans, are you?" he asked, cocking his head to the side as he studied the other male.
“No— I’m from New York. The melting pot, really. I just have always wanted to live here. Finally saved up enough money to do so,” he explained. “I got here this morning. It’s a beautiful place.”
He paused for a moment, studying Fio’s face. It was very angelic, with the relative transparency refracting the light. It was like the sun shining through the edge of an iceberg, haloing around him. Akira didn’t even notice he was staring.