He'd covered his ears.

He'd covered his ears and shook like a little kid.

Secretly, and later on, he would be glad the others were being yelled at, too. They were too focused on the angry fire ghost in front of them to notice what he was doing. Hey, if you were being yelled at by someone who was impossibly angry and on fire, you'd be focused on them, too.

Anyways, they didn't notice him. They didn't notice how he covered his ears like a kid and shook like a leaf. They didn't notice how his breathing hitched and how his eyes shone with fear. They didn't notice any of that, and he was relieved. He didn't have to explain anything. He just had to keep pretending and hope it worked.

He kept pretending. He kept pretending and acting and lying and telling everyone that asked that he was fine and being sarcastic. In a nutshell, he kept being Inky. Or the others' idea of who Inky was, anyways. At this point, he didn't even know who he was.

He was Inky, that much he knew, but who was Inky? Was he someone you'd want to be around? Was he someone who'd snap at everyone who tried to talk to him? Was he easygoing and fun, or was he strict and uptight? Was he a sweet boy? Bitter? Cowardly? Brave? Clever? Chatty? Silent?

He didn't know. He kept pretending and saying whatever everyone expected him to say. That was his mask. His mask hid his past and secrets from the world, but it also hid who he truly was. Even to him. Especially to him. You could wear a mask for your entire life and not know who you were. Inky was a teensy bit afraid that that would happen to him. Most of him wasn't. Once you're dead, you don't have to worry about anything anymore, and that included keeping up appearances. Right? Right.

Maybe one day he'll find himself again. Or maybe not. He was pretty sure he knew at least 3 people who tried everything they could think and do and never found themselves. Maybe those 3 were Blinky, Pinky, and Clyde. Or maybe they were people he knew before in his life and had forgotten all about. He didn't know. He was just focused on surviving another day in the Netherworld.

Betrayus scared him, and not just because he was their leader. Whenever he yelled at them (which was almost too frequently), it reminded him of his father, and thinking about his father led to bad memories, and bad memories led to breakdowns, and breakdowns led to crying, and crying led to weakness.

Okay, he was kind of weak, he admitted that much to himself.

If Betrayus wanted him to do something, and he was incredibly angry, he'd do it. Force of habit. It reminded him a bit too much of his father when he was in one of his moods. And it never ended well for Inky. Or his mother. Their skin would still be stained fresh with wounds and scars for the following weeks, mixing with new and old ones.

Truth be told, he wouldn't put it past Betrayus if he became more aggressive and violent. The guy (or ghost. Whatever) already had anger issues, like his father. What more does he have to say?

Somehow, Pinky was worse. Normally, when she was happy and at peace with everything (mostly, everything. She still hated Cyli to no end), she was fine. Inky could put up with her. Kind of, anyways. But when she was angry, fuming with anger and fire dancing in her eyes and steam practically coming out of her ears, he was scared. As much as Betrayus reminded him of his father, Pinky, though different as she may be, somehow was more like him. It confused and sort of terrified him.

Another day, another night. Another journey, another nightmare. He was tired. Mentally and physically. Tired of running around and cleaning up the messes the other ghosts left behind. Tired of pretending that everything was okay, Blinky, go check on Pac or something. Tired of putting up with everyone's crap. Tired of everything.

He was tired.

He wanted the world to stop. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep and wait for everything to fix itself. He wanted everything to be okay. He wanted to enjoy his afterlife as much as he could. But sadly, life had other ideas. It apparently wanted him to suffer greatly. It was like the god or goddess of this world had a bag of Bad Things, and, what seemed like every day, would reach their hand inside and sprinkle a handful onto the world. He and the others seemed to get the worst of it.

Either Pac was pretending he was good, or he actually was doing okay. Inky suspected it was the latter, however; wearing a mask himself, he knew enough to know if someone was pretending. Pac was a god-tier optimist; he never let anything bad get to him, most of the time.

Inky wished he was like that. Maybe then it wouldn't be so hard to let go of the past. Maybe then it wouldn't be so hard to tell someone-anyone-his secrets and past and his pain and his sadness. He wished. But wishing couldn't make reality. It didn't magically make him able to spill everything out and have him actually be himself. It was just a wish, just a dream. Just a little part of him that longed for a reality that probably would never come.

Somebody was calling his name. He heard them, vaguely. But he couldn't seem to shake himself out of whatever trance he was in. Maybe he just wasn't trying hard enough. He shook his head lightly and blinked a couple of times. That appeared to work; he suddenly became more aware of his surroundings.

"Inky?" That was Pac. He sounded worried. Why did he sound worried?

. . . .

Ah, right. He'd been zoned out for who knows how long. Whoops, that was his bad. And now he'd gone and made the others worry. Whoop-de-doo, what a wonderful day. Not.

"Yeah?" he said, absentmindedly rubbing his arm.

"You okay? You seemed really spacey for a second," said Pac.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Clyde pursed his lips, as if he wanted to say something, but decided against it. He swore Blinky gave him a kind-of-maybe suspicious look. He wasn't too sure, he went back to normal in the blink of an eye. Kind of worrying and suspicious.

Everything went back to normal. The others continued on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.

He continued pretending.

He let out a breath of relief.

He was safe. For now.

I'm so sorry there isn't much dialogue yet I'm working on it skskkskskskskskkskskskskskskskskkskskskskskskskskkssk

Anyways, thanks for reading! :D

See you in the next chapter! Bye!