First of all, this story is heavily inspired by "Say That You Love Me" by Comicbookfan. If you like Amane x (Yami) Bakura you should check it out.
Alright, hello! I am back from the dead with a silly and spooky vaseshipping fanfic! Before I start my next big project (which I hope to finish this time) I wanted to do this shorter and lighter fanfic first. You definitely should not take it seriously, as I won't either. Hopefully you'll get a laugh out of it! Now let's start. Enjoy, spooky ghost Atem action, go!
Atem didn't like visitors.
Okay, he couldn't call this guy a visitor. Not anymore, anyway. He was, unfortunately, the new homeowner.
This sucked! And just when Atem had gotten pretty comfortable too. He would often visit the empty apartment; knocking on the thin walls to creep out next door neighbours, standing in front of the window and hiding behind the old white curtains, making people take a second look to make sure they did not just see a shadowy figure in the empty apartment.
One time he had overheard a young boy tell the story of the allegedly haunted apartment to his friends as they passed by his building, and he couldn't have been more proud! He was famous!
He didn't know he could get even more fame than he already did, it was a fun little surprise for him.
But now, standing in the middle of the recently furnished room, Atem was throwing the most annoyed glare he could muster.
It was as if the guy was blind or deaf or something!
Atem kept rearranging his stuff and creating suspicious sounds from the other rooms. He had even blatantly opened up a cupboard in front of him, yet the guy was busy looking in his stupid box of stupid stuff and unpacking.
Atem was angry. He wanted the man to leave, and he knew if he really tried, Atem could make him run away without ever looking back. But, he didn't have it in him to do anything more than simple gestures to throw off people, so he let the man be.
During the two days he spent in the apartment, this guy had only unpacked without spending the night there. Atem figured he went somewhere else to sleep until the apartment was ready to be moved in.
This created an opportunity for Atem. Because at night, when he wasn't around, Atem thought that he deserved to investigate his belongings. He was generous and thoughtful enough to let the man stay, wasn't he? Besides, it wouldn't hurt to make sure he wasn't a sketchy guy or anything.
Most of the boxes had the regular household items; pots and pans, plates, cutlery, some accessories, books, books and lots of books… There were his clothes, sets of sheets, towels and blankets and a hair dryer… and… Oh….
What's this?
A box full of paintings.
Finally, something interesting!
Atem picked one of the canvases and carefully got it out of the box. It was a painting of a cat, sleeping in front of a window. It was a realistic form of art and Atem liked it. Not only because of his fondness for cats, but also because it was beautifully made.
He placed the canvas in its place and retreated for the night. He could always see the rest of the paintings when he hung them on the walls.
When Atem came back a few days later, he found the house fully furnished and ready. But the man wasn't there. It was a Tuesday, he must have been out working.
Atem walked around the living room and noticed that the nails he had prepared on the walls were not for the paintings, but for photographs he hadn't seen before. He recognized the young man, though he was even younger. A man and woman, Atem was going to assume that they were his parents, were standing behind him. And in the arms of the dad, was a little girl.
Atem saw the young man and the little girl in more photos later that day. Photos from vacations, silly little adventures, celebrations…
And one photo in particular peaked his interest. It was sitting on a bookshelf, next to a vase and another picture of a young woman.
Atem picked up the frame and observed. It was that same little girl; covered in paint, in front of a comically sized tiny canvas and holding a brush that was too big for her little hand.
Atem chuckled. He had to admit, it was a cute photo.
His eyes shifted to the photo next to the vase. There was no denying. The little girl had grown up to be this young woman in the photo. She hadn't changed a single bit. Same hair, same eyes, same smile.
Atem suddenly wondered if the young man would invite this girl to his new house. It was most probably his sister, so why wouldn't he?
And when she visited maybe she would paint some more. Atem would silently observe (not that any noise he created would reach her ears) and be amazed at what the human mind can create out of the blue when the inspiration hit just right.
When he reached out to place the photo back to its place, his question was answered, a gentle voice coming from behind.
"Who are you?"
He was caught off guard, in a panic he slipped the frame from his hands and couldn't catch it in time. The picture frame hit the floor and the glass shattered under his feet.
Atem turned around to see a woman, no, the young woman from the picture standing in front of him, very aware of his presence.
"Hey! Why did you-"
But before any of them could say another word, the front door opened, and Atem took that as his cue to leave. It wasn't the best choice of action, but he didn't really think about it. Atem didn't want to see the face of that man, he felt really guilty for breaking his property.
Also, that girl could see him. How did she do that? Was she a psychic? And she spoke to him too, expecting an answer back. Atem had never interacted with a living person ever since he had become a, uh, well, he identified himself as a ghost, so, a ghost. This was new to him.
But even though he was scared, he would return to that apartment and figure out this strange woman.
Atem, quite hesitantly, returned to the scene of the crime a couple days later. He had chosen a weekday again, so if the woman did show up, they wouldn't be interrupted by the man.
He didn't actually know if the woman would be there, since he didn't seem to feel her presence when she was around.
Well, she was probably a psychic or something, she must had some tricks up her sleeve to conceal herself. Atem wondered how she did that last time, or what she would do next.
He was not expecting to find her sitting on the sofa, however. Her guard was completely dropped, why would she do that? Was it one of her various mind tricks?
She noticed him right away. "Great. You again." She rolled her eyes.
The audacity. This was his place. Atem was generous enough to let them stay and this was the treatment he got in return. Unbelievable!
"That's my line." He said with a bored tone. He wouldn't be surprised if she could read his mind too.
"Excuse me?" She got up hastily and started walking towards him. "You barge your way in, snoop through our stuff, break my picture frame and make your great escape! Then you dare come back and tell me that you expected to not see me again, in my own home?" By the time she was finished, she stood closer in front of him.
"Uh, this is my place. I was here first." Atem replied.
"Being here first doesn't make it yours." She said to him, placing her hands on her hips.
"What makes it then?" He said, also placing his hands the same way she did.
The girl pointed at the bookshelf. "See? That's me. My brother placed my photos, our photos there. Because he has the right to furnish his apartment the way he wants." She then stepped away from Atem. "He paid for this apartment, unlike you, who just declared it was yours by stepping your foot in it."
And normally Atem wouldn't let some random person talk to him with an attitude, but this time he was distracted.
When the girl pointed at the photo, he noticed they had replaced the frame with a new one, obviously. But this time he also noticed something he had missed before.
The vase next to the pictures.
"That's not a vase." He absently said, his eyes on the bookshelf. Then he turned to her. "You're not a psychic."
She was confused. "Wha- a psychic?"
"When I first saw it. I didn't pay attention to it. I thought it was a decorative vase." Atem explained.
He moved towards the funerary urn, the photo next to it making more sense to him now. His eyes drooped. Death was inevitable, he knew that. And after his own tragic demise, he had never assumed he would feel sorry for someone else's death.
"You thought I was a psychic?" She asked, finding it amusing. Walking up next to him, she also looked at the urn.
"I didn't have time to observe you, okay? You came out of nowhere, then I dropped the picture. On top of that, the guy came in and… I panicked." He turned to her. "I'm sorry for breaking your frame."
He seemed genuine, so she ended up shrugging. "It's okay. It was old anyway. If I could, I would have told Mahad to change it like a million times already." At his empty stare, she clarified. "Mahad, my brother. Or as you like to call him, 'that guy'."
"Yeah, I don't know, I feel like 'that guy' rolls off the tongue better." Watching her shaking her head and giggling, Atem felt the urge to ask, "So should I keep calling you 'psychic girl' or do you also have a name?"
"I surprisingly do. It's Mana." She offered her hand for a handshake, and he took it.
"You can call me Atem, but something tells me that you won't have the chance to call me, since you're so keen on kicking me out."
Mana laughed. "I'm not kicking you out. Though you can say I'm showing you your place. Which is really not here. Not anymore."
Leaning on the wall beside him, Atem smiled too. "You're actually the first person I've had an actual conversation with since… uh… my death? It's nice. So... I guess, if it means you'll stick around… your brother can stay."
"Oh wow, thank you so much for letting him stay in his own apartment, you are most gracious."
"Of course, don't mention it."
Mana couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him now. He was lonely, huh. Enough to the point he could give up his precious apartment if he could have someone to talk to.
He didn't seem like a threat, Mana would have felt it otherwise. And if it meant that he would behave, then she didn't mind being his friend, or something like that.In the end, she only wanted to make sure Mahad was comfortable.
"But it is very strange how I didn't feel your presence," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "Normally I notice it when another ghost is present, it's scary how you managed to hide yourself."
Mana met his eyes and smiled. Then, Atem understood how one genuine smile could make him feel like he was bathing in the sunlight, or being blessed by a higher power. The answer was simple.
"Ah, I'm not a ghost. I'm an angel."
I was having such a hard time writing the other sad vases fic, this helped me feel better. So please enjoy reading this fic that is fluffy for the sake of being fluffy. Hopefully I will see you all in the next chapter!