Hey there. So, this is my first fanfiction... ever! I'm extremely nervous, but excited. Please let me know what you think! I'll try to update as often as possible, I promise.
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It began with a drilling sound.

It was persistent. Almost neverending. Like someone was using my ear as a pencil sharpener, grinding the graphite against my ear drum with horrific force.

Then there was the knocking.

Bang, bang, bang. Pop, pop, pop. Sometimes it sounded like a cannon ball was flying through my bedroom wall, other times, like someone was walking on a floor of bubble wrap.

And there were voices. Plenty of voices.

"Ohayou, mina."

"Gomennasai!"

"Sayounara, yuujin."

An infinite amount of Hey, Bobu! How's it going? You doing well? Oh yes, yes, I'm doing well. And that kid of yours? Oh, she's great. Took her first steps the other day. Really, man? That's awesome, good for you guys!

But the worst was the hallucinations, the seeing things. The rooms of my house changing, rearranging; entire walls missing, moved.

Sometimes, I swear I even saw people. Or at least partials of people.

A hand, a foot. A shoe here, a whisp of hair or cuff of a coat there.

My old friend Yami was in my kitchen one morning. Or what used to be the kitchen. It now appeared to be a half-finished, clean styled sitting room—Anyways, upon my appearance in the doorway, Yami merely nodded and followed me as I led him to the one room that seemed untouched by the commotion—a room I had come to call my bedroom. Though, if there had ever been a bed in the room, it had vanished long before I appeared.

"Try knocking on the walls," Yami suggested as we walked through the still-existent second floor hallway. I turned, shooting him a raised eyebrow.

"Do you really think that would work?"

He shrugged. "Always worked for me." He stopped, lifting his right hand in a fist. He hesitated, concentrating, before bringing it against the wall. It impacted, and he repeated the motion, a hollow knocking sound echoing not only through the hallway, but through the walls of the entire house as well.

From somewhere on the first floor, the drilling stopped. Voices, muffled and high-pitched with confusion and worry, took its place.

I grinned at Yami as he looked at me, laughter in his eyes.

I copied him, bringing my fist to the wall without the need for a moment to center my focus.

The voices grew louder, higher.

"Stomping works, too, I'm told," he said. "Especially on the stairs."

But someone beat us to it. Yami and I froze as footsteps resounded up the old wooden staircase, loud, hard, rebounding smacks as rubber sole hit hollowing, rotting plank.

A whole entity arrived at the top of the staircase, and we stared at him, Yami and I, our eyes wide. He was a short, heavily-muscled man, thick jeans and a thicker jacket. In one hand, hanging down by his side, he held a shiny, rounded hat, or something I only could assume to be a hat, while the other was raised, his stubby, unkempt fingers scratching deep into his shaggy black hair. Dark stubble lined his set, square chin, cutting between his rather large nose and slim, unsmiling lips. His light-colored eyes moved back and forth, from one wall to the other, surveying the hallway.

"'s nuffin' here, Kudo. Yer just hearin' things."

"I swears, I's not. I herd somfin' alright," came a squeaky voice from behind him. This voice, belonging presumably to a man—or pre-pubescent child—named Kudo, was the voice from before, the high squak that had responded with worry to Yami's and I's knocking.

"What ya herd, Kudo," said the large man, turning away from us, "was that dried up thin' rollin' between those eyes 'a' yer's."

"But, but, Koru, I swears, I herd—"

"What the hell are you two fussin' about?" echoed a voice from somewhere farther away than the presumed Kudo and Koru. The voice was heavy with authority, causing the large man Koru to stiffen.

"'s nuffin', bosu. Kudo's just goin' crazy 'gin."

"Well, tell 'im to be crazy with that damn hammer while you're gettin' crazy with the saw. I need those walls up by sunset or neither of yous is gettin' paid."

"Y- yes, bosu!" yelped Koru, squaked Kudo simultaneously as the two nearly flew down the stairs.

I stared in silence as Yami broke out in wild laughter.

"Did you see them?" he hollered. I looked at him.

"What was that?" I whispered, shock keeping me from raising my voice any higher. Yami continued to smile, holding back his laughter. He wiped a tear from his eye as he tried to look at me seriously. With little success.

"Those, Sukai-chan—" laughter—"are what we call some live ones."