Spirit Hunter

I’ve never talked that much in one sitting before. Mari was super pissed after I exclaimed that I would be a spirit hunter on the spot.

I don’t get it. She was the one who suggested that I do something spontaneous. What’s the difference between becoming a spirit hunter and skydiving or zip lining?

Regardless of the decision, I'm sure that I’ll get bored no matter what.

So that’s why I’m here, right here, right now. I’m standing in front of the spirit hunting training facility.

It looked so damn pretty and clean that the other buildings looked like absolute shit in comparison.

There was a big but equally unimpressive sign in the front of the building.

“Spirit Hunter Academy.”

It was big but super boring.

So boring that I could yawn despite the clear effort someone put into making it look so good.

I was lucky that applications for the two hundred and fifth class end in a day, but if they end in a day, then why am I here early?

Well, apparently, when training and studying here, you also live in a dorm here too.

It’s kinda cool, no fee and all I gotta do is train to risk my life as a job. It’s not too bad overall.

But still, does it have to be in such a boring building?

It’s so boring that I could die on the spot; hell, maybe I will.

I entered the building; the two doors swung open automatically. Walking into the building, the exterior matched the interior.

It was nice, clean, too clean. It was so clean that it was kinda creepy.

I was half expecting a maid to spawn in and clean the dust that I tracked in when I entered. The cleanliness made me want to grab a potted plant and just slam it against the ground to make the place look a little normal.

I scanned the room for anyone, but I couldn’t spot a single human in sight.

“I guess the building isn’t open?”

Walking forward, I entered the oddly clean building. With each step, I felt like I could slip on my ass.

I kept walking until–

“Excuse me, sir? Did you need something?”

“Huh?”

I knew I heard someone; the voice itself was rather feminine and soft, like a receptionist, but where did it come from?

“Sir?”

Again, the voice came out of nowhere; it was even hard to pinpoint where it was coming from.

The soft voice bounced against the walls and corners like a ball.

“Sir, over here!”

I snapped my head towards the desk, but confusion still poisoned my mind. I walked towards the desk; still no one in sight.

Until a tuft of hair bounced slightly.

The hair was a blood-red shade; it was messy and mopey. Clearly whoever this is doesn’t maintain there hairs well.

It could also be stated that whoever this is must be on the shorter end; I mean, that must be why I couldn’t see them until now.

But for right now, I should do my best to hold my opinions.

“Hello? I’m Zane. I’m trying to check in for my dorm.”

“Oh? Okay, hold on!”

Like a magic trick, the seemingly small girl stood up to reveal herself as a tall woman, her voice still soft.

She towered over me; if I had to guess, she was about a whole foot taller than me.

Matching her hair, her eyes were blood red. However, despite the darkness, her eyes held a light.

It was hard to describe, but if I did my best, I'd say it’s like looking at a cluster of stars and galaxies. She was wearing this dark brown and green sweater; it was clear that it was an old sweater too. You could see it slowly come undone with age.

To put her appearance into words, she dressed like a grandma but looked like a young angel.

She leaned closer to me; it almost made my heart stop.

“Could you say your name again, sir?”

“Um…Zane.”

I reluctantly blinked; how could I want to blink when I’m looking at someone like her?

“Kugel, I’m Zane Kugel!”

Why are my words coming out so awkward?

Is it the way she smells? Her scent was like walking through an unknown path that you spontaneously decided to walk down.

It was new, exciting, and best of all, fun!

“Zane Kugel…okay, let me look that up.”

She took a step back, a step that I wish she never took, but at the end of the day, nice things must end, right?

She sat down on a black chair and rolled closer to a computer monitor.

The rhythmic typing of her fingers against the keyboard, the way she used the mouse, the scroll, and the way her eyes slowly read the screen in front of her, weirdly made me feel comfortable.

Like watching your mother read or your father working on one of his hobbies, well, I guess since I’ve never met my mother or father, I really mean how my aunt read or worked on her hobbies; whatever my point is, it just feels nice.

It’s more about how they’re letting you exist in such a personal moment for them, but in this case it wasn’t personal. This woman was just doing her job.

Her gaze towards the screen shifted to me.

“Mr. Kugel, your room will be Room 301, okay?”

“Y-yes ma’am, thank you.”

She gave my response a small giggle while standing up. She leaned down and plopped a key into my palm, a palm I didn’t even realise was open.

“I’m Ina Athens. If you need anything regarding your living needs, just give me a call, okay?”

There was something about her demeanor that seemed to calm me down a bit. She looked so inviting, soft, caring, but most of all, she looked like hope itself.

“Will do, thank you again, Ina.”

After that, the place looking so clear didn’t seem to bother me as much; after all, if someone like her is looking after the place, then how could I be weirded out?

Then again, it might be weird that I got so comfortable with just one interaction with her; after all, we didn’t technically have a “conversation”.

At least, not a personal one.

I walked up to the third floor; the stairs were black with this golden railing. I kept muttering.

“301, 301, 301, 30–”

I spotted it: a black and purple door with the number “301” on it. I used the key Ina gave me and entered.

“Wow.”

Just like the door, the room itself was themed with the colors Black and Purple; the bed was a purple mattress with a black blanket.

Black painted walls with purple curtains. The ceiling fans' wooden blades were black and purple.

However, the bed frame broke this pattern by being a calming shade of gold.

I noticed that on my left there was a door, also black and purple.

Walking towards it, I heard the known twist as I entered; it was a small bathroom.

The bath was big, and there was a shower across from it. It really wasn't that impressive.

Just like that, like a growing cancer, boredom began to drown me in a thick liquid of ennui.

I was used to this sight, the beautiful colors, the room, all of it. It was just so boring.

I flopped onto the bed; even its comforting, cloud-like softness was super boring.

With nothing else to do, or at least nothing else I could think to do in the moment, I closed my eyes.

My mind drifted into the world of REM.

…

..

.

I remembered something. A dream? A memory? I don’t really…ah, it was a memory.

A memory; it was about five years ago. I was thirteen at the time; I remember it clearly.

There I was, sitting on my porch watching Annie play in the grass with Mari inside making something. I couldn't remember what it was exactly, but it was something similar to the smell of apple pie.

It wasn't long until Mari walked out and sat with me.

“So how's Annie been doing?”

“She’s been playing; I think she's trying to catch some ants.”

I rested my chin on the palms of my hands, leaning forward. Mari smiled. I couldn't tell why, but I knew I was in for a long talk.

“What's up?”

The question wasn't as simple as I presented it. I know for a fact that she doesn't smile like that unless she wants to pick at me.

“I've always wondered, why do you call Annie your niece? She's by definition your cousin.”

Oh, I remember this conversation now.

“Um, well…I just…”

Why do I call her that? When did I start that habit?

It was…when I was six, right? I don't know, honestly it's safer to say that I've called Annie that for as long as I could remember.

“I just…it feels closer, to call her my niece.”

Huh? Is…is that really it? Am I sure? If it was closeness I wanted then–

“Wait, then why don't you just call her your little sister or something?”

I was cut off by Mari, but my thoughts exactly. Is this really me I'm dreaming about?

“Well, you always took care of me for as long as I could remember…When I think of you, I don't think of an Aunt. I think of a big sister, and what is an uncle but a big brother that's not quite a brother. So if you're my not quite sister, then Annie is my not quite niece.”

I don't really remember saying it like that, but it's kinda close. I think.

But is that what I really think?

“Zane! Zane! Look out!”

Annie, at the time she grew her hair out so much that the blackness covered her eyes. She jumped up and down, running in circles.

“Zane Zane Zane!”

“What? What? What?”

“Look out! The evil ant king wants your head and is trying to kill you!!!”

I remembered this; she always had an overactive imagination, and I always fed that imagination.

I stood up and jumped into a pose.

“Then I'll simply destroy the Ant King.”

“Is that so? Then I'll have to battle you!”

“Is this how the coward Ant King chooses to face me?”

Everything began to shift a little.

“Knock Knock!”

Huh?

“Knock Knock!”

That noise- it looked like it was coming from Annie’s mouth, but that can’t be right.

KNOCK KNOCK!

…

..

.

I quickly rose as my slumber was interrupted. My head ached, and my mouth was insanely dry.

Knock knock knock!

The door rumbled at the force of the person knocking on the wooden door. My feet nuzzled into the soft carpet floor, the weight being added to the cloud-like carpet as I stood up.

“Mr. Kugel? Are you awake?”

How could I not be? But who is that? That voice sounds familiar.

The knocking continued despite the weight of my footsteps emitting a sound. I shifted towards the door.

“Coming, coming.”

The knob cracked and creaked as I twisted the handle, opening it slowly. The red hair made me snap from slouching to standing up straight.

“Miss Athens?”

“Good, you’re awake.”

Again, how the hell could I not be? You knock so fucking loudly.

“Um…did you need something?”

“Well, you see, I forgot to inform you that everyone who checks in has to see the head captain of training at twelve in the afternoon on Monday.”

“Oh? What time is it now?”

“Eleven thirty.”

“Well at least I have a day to–”

“Mr. Kugel, today is Monday.”

Huh?

“Huh?”

Wait, how long did I sleep!?

“You said today is Monday?”

She gave me a quick nod with a smile; I think she only smiled to hide some form of pity.

I took a step back.

“Thank you for um… informing me.”

“If it helps, I can inform the head captain that–”

“No, thank you. I’ll be there in time, I promise.”

I closed the door, mainly to hide my extreme panic. I haven’t felt a panic like this in a long time.

I was quick; I had to be. I rushed toward the bathroom, giving my face a good rinse. Looking at myself in the mirror.

A young boy with chocolate skin and white hair pulled into a ponytail.

I saw myself.

Why do I feel bored looking at myself? It’s me; is there really no end to my boredom?

I ran outside of my room and down the multiple flights of stairs. I frantically searched for the training room, but the damn facility was so confusing.

Luckily, I was able to find the stupid room before the clock struck twelve.

The room was filled with an assortment of people: tall people, short people, fat people, thin people, Men, women, and those who look like both and neither.

Yet at the end of the day, people are people, and this room is crowded as hell.

I was stuffed in the back of the room; it was hard to see the stage in the front of the room. After a few minutes of trying to breathe, it happened.

A single man took a few steps on the stage, and the constant shifting and noise ceased.

His eyes were so red that they were kinda concerning; his hair so black that light seemed to be sucked into it. He wore a red and black themed business-looking suit.

His voice was both soft and commanding, yet it wasn’t quiet. It was still loud, loud enough to shake everyone's core.

“What is a spirit?”

The question was so simple, yet I feel like the answer he’s about to voice is going to leave me shaken.

“Spirits are dreams, lost, broken, dreams. That is what we hunt, why we hunt. To return those dreams to their rightful owners.”