5 years and 294 days. It had been roughly six years since my parents passed. That's 72 months, 2,191 days, and 52,548 hours since the last time they were around to make Shepherd's Pie. Having it again was a trip to when I was ten and my dad let me cook with him. He always took charge of the stove and the knives, but I got to stir the sauce. And I always felt pretty damn proud of my skills.
 
Unfortunately, my cooking talents didn't hold up after six years. Koto was patient with me though. She definitely knew her way around a kitchen, even one that was never regularly used in six years.

Soon after grabbing our plates and cleaning up the kitchen a bit, I walked with Koto upstairs to eat. She seemed unsure about it, but I never used the formal dining room. Koto seemed creeped out by the house enough that I figured I'd spare her having to eat in silence in a bare room with my mom's paintings all over the walls.

I took her upstairs to the media room. Calling it a "living" room felt a little contradictory, but the two were fairly the same. It was one of few rooms in the house I was often in. Since attending UA, I haven't had a ton of time to spend around the house, but if I were home and the ghosts weren't driving me crazy, I usually stayed either in my room or the media room.

Koto had suggested we watch a movie while we ate. At first, I was skeptical, seeing as how movies for a long time never grabbed my interest. But Koto told me she brought some of her vintage movies with her to take home for winter break. I could tell she was a little anxious about talking to the ghosts and being in a funeral home no less, but the idea of watching one of her beloved Disney movies seemed to cheer her up.

She searched through her backpack for the movie case, and I helped her set up the TV. I hadn't used it in a while, and I debated if it still worked, but I wouldn't be in 1-H if there was a machine here that I couldn't fix. Lucky for us, the DVD player wasn't a wreck. I wondered who still used DVDs anymore, and apparently, Koto did. She slid the disk into it's mechanical box like it was nothing even if it would have taken me some research to figure it out.

We each took a seat on the couch with our plates in our lap as Koto set up the subtitles for me. At the bottom of the list was a Japanese setting, and Koto silently celebrated to herself as if it was a rare find.

As the first half of the movie started, the credits rolled up the screen in cursive font. I could barely read the names themselves, barely remembering English from Dad. I decided to focus on the food until the movie started.

Koto deserved a hand for pulling the dish together with such ease. I hadn't cooked by myself in a while, and even with the ghosts over my shoulder telling me how it should be done, I wasn't a master. But our food turned out better than I expected. The flavors sent me back, flushing my mind with memories of me and my parents in the same kitchen with the same recipe.

The image of Koto dancing to herself around the room while she cooked failed to leave my head. There was something about it that reminded me of something, but I couldn't put my finger on it. The way she moved through and through to a melody I was blind to was impressive. So much so that I was distracted enough to cut my finger while peeling vegetables. I wasn't upset though. The continuous picture of her dancing that reminded me so clearly of something I couldn't place was far more upsetting.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

We were halfway through her movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas, and I was still trying to figure out if it was a Halloween movie or a Christmas one. We watched it in mid-December, so it was closer to Christmas at the time. Then again, I didn't celebrate Christmas often, so I wanted to say Halloween.

I liked the character Jack Skellington a lot. He knew what he wanted, and his enthusiasm for Halloween reminded me a lot of my parents. I guess they've been on my mind a lot that night and watching what I deemed a Halloween film brought them out more in my mind.

My favorite part had to be when Jack Skellington visited Christmastown. The italics in the subtitles told me it was a song break, but I appreciated the softer lights in the background and watching him visit all the houses asking, "What's this?"

By the time the movie ended, I found myself smiling at the scene as it faded out into another round of credits. I had put down my empty plate on the coffee table somewhere around act one of the movie. Koto didn't eat much of her Shepherd's Pie, so I didn't want to offer to take her plate from her. When we finished the movie, she pressed the stop button on the screen and turned over to face me, crossing her legs and signing with her hands.

"So, what did you think?" She motioned a subtle smile that anticipated my thoughts on the movie.

I signed back, telling her my favorite parts and characters. I was starting to see the appeal in Disney movies, and I was more impressed with Koto's collection of them.

"You know, I haven't seen a DVD in years. It's cool that you know a lot about those and the American films," I told her.

Koto dipped her head, her smile slightly growing as she signed, "I brought all my favorites with me for the break, but it was tough to find one I thought you would like."

That's fair. I had barely heard of "Disney" before the UA Movie Night, so I wouldn't blame her for not knowing my tastes. The first movie we watched, one she called Tangled, wasn't bad. It had its good moments and only two song sequences that completely went over my head. Averaging that with The Nightmare Before Christmas, I had liked all the vintage American movies I've seen.

"Well, you've done a good job so far," I responded, pulling my hands up to motion each word like it was my first language. No matter how much of my life was spent before my Quirk manifested, sign language always came easier to me. There was no stuttering or mix-ups, with the exception of my twitching tics. It was all straightforward and to the point, no guessing required.

It was the moments doesn't in silence when I was forced to do some guessing. Koto signed to me soon after, saying, "I wouldn't mind watching another someday, but for now, what would you like to do?"

I wasn't sure how she wanted me to reply. Not much was planned into the night other than her conversation with the ghosts, and with them off in the background, I was left to be spontaneous with ideas. Bringing out the Ouija board might not ease Koto too well, so I tried to think of anything I did when I was home.

"I'm not home a lot, and when I'm usually here it's just reading or taking care of the house," I honestly signed.

"Do you have any hobbies here? I know you do a lot of inventing, but is there anything else?"

I hated to admit that maybe I was less of an interesting person than I let her believe. Typically, people would paint a deaf orphan who lives in a cemetery with his ghost family as a guy with a lot to share, but I wouldn't put it that way. The pinching nerves on the back of my head twitched my neck down, giving me the excuse to look around for some ideas. Right ahead of my eye line was Mom's shelf, filled with her collection of figurines and books. On the bottom alert though was a box that solved my problem.

I fixed my attention back onto Koto, motioning my hands down to point at a surface and move diagonally, "I like to play chess."

Koto sat up attentively as if I found something that interested her. I mentally congratulated myself on not boring her already and soon stood up to grab my chessboard.

We both sat across from one another on the couch, placing the board in between us. Koto sat with her legs tucked underneath her, and I sat similarly with my right leg resting under the left.

"Have you ever played before?" I asked her, sliding the board out of its box. When Koto shook her head no, I continued, "Then we might want to start with checkers for the first round." She seemed content with this. Chess was my favorite and all, but it could be a lot to learn at once, and I had a tendency to get a little competitive when playing with the ghosts. I thought to maybe save the complex game for another night.

We set up the checkers board, Koto taking the red chips and myself taking the blacks. I set up my pieces in the proper order, and Koto soon copied mine. When we were set, I gave her the opening move and let her slide her red chip to a nearby square.

After making her move, she lifted her wrists to sign, "It's been years since I touched a checkerboard."

It was the equivalent of my reaction to the old DVD player. One of us knew what we were doing while the other was going along with the motions. Nothing to be ashamed of on either side though. Koto taught me something about DVD players, and on the same night, she could use someone with gaming experience to help learn her a thing or two.

We continue the game, her making some impressive moves that I wondered if we're on purpose. I countered them though, doing my best without getting competitive. Edison wasn't too pleased to see me go easy on her for the first round, but he'd get over it. Cleo reminded me it was just about having fun.

Koto was about to make her next move, this one having the potential to end the game in her favor, but she didn't seem to notice it. It looked like I had a good cluster of chips on one side of the board, but I failed to close a gap between Koto's pieces and my Queen, a gap she could take advantage of if she wanted to.

Koto picked up her chip, seemingly thinking through every possible move. I anxiously held my breath as she decided, but her turn was interrupted when she looked on either side of her, soon grabbing her phone from the coffee table.

I watched her open her text, a look of subtle frustration growing that she seemed to fight off before I could say anything. When Koto put her phone down, she glared at the pieces like they had just sent an angry text to her seconds ago.

I rotated my hands around the space in front of me and lifted my right hand to point out then in my general area.

"Everything okay?" I signed.

Her head tilted back down, something I began to think was a habit of hers. She still signed back to me after typing onto her phone.

"It's just Rose. She's still hung up on our pranking battle." Koto turned her screen to me, showing me the last text from Rose's number in her messages.

The text was Rose's usual taunting, telling Koto she would have her revenge on the redhead. Their fights have been going back and forth trying to scare one another. I had invited Koto over so she could see that my ghost family wasn't anything to be afraid of, but I worried it might have put her on edge more. This was proven by the most recent text Rose sent that challenged Koto, "Bet you won't have the guts to stick it out all night," with a series of frightening emoticons.

Koto didn't sign anything, and I felt obligated to say something back. I didn't think about it and signed the first thing on my mind. "Do you plan to prove her wrong?"

Koto shrugged, looking down at her phone and reviewing the texts.

"I don't know," she signed.

"If you want to go home, I won't tell Rose." I let Koto finish her move, one that didn't give her the win as I feared. There was still an opening, but my pieces were still redeemable.

I moved my black chip across the board, taking one of her spare red chips in the process. Koto didn't seem to care, still having plenty of pieces to do and maintaining that opening. She took another turn as she signed.

"It's just the principle of it," she explained. "Even if she doesn't know it, she would still be right."

A good point was made. I didn't know how I felt about being a wager with these two, but I also didn't want Rose to win. Jack the Ripper and Edgar Allan Poe I expected to be immature and take their pranks a little far, but the last thing Rose needed was something to prove her right.

After Koto moved her piece over, I signed to her, "If it's that important, you're welcome to stay the night up in the spare room. Don't worry, the ghosts won't bug you or anything in there."

Koto chuckled at my attempt to make this house seem in any way appealing. While I thought about my next move in checkers, she seemed to think to herself as well.

She hesitantly signed, breaking up her motions with a brief pause. "Your...family wouldn't mind?"

I signed back without thinking about it, the answer just coming to me for a short moment, "No, the ghosts are alright with you—" When that short moment ended, and something immediately felt off about my answer, I looked up to see Koto with her head cocked to the side, holding back on asking more.

That's when it hit me. Of course, she meant my 'family', expecting a family she can see without a seance.

"Oh, you mean..." I began to sign, stopping the game briefly. A moment to hesitate passed by as I considered the topic I was about to bring up. Koto was a good person, and I wasn't going to lie to her. She deserved to know if she was curious, but I hadn't told many people about them. The last time I mentioned Mom or Dad, it was when my friends in 1-H helped me grieve when I lost a ghost I was close to. Since then, the topic never brought itself up until now.

I left the checkerboard alone, holding my freezing hands in my lap while I thought about the signs to use. I noticed the tics pulling at my fingers, prompting me to tighten my grip on my hands. The words eventually found me, and I could lay it all out without interruption.

"It's hard to say. For a long time, they were really sick, and now...they're not. I was ten when I lost them, but since then, I got my Quirk, and I live with the ghosts. I probably should have told you that when I invited you over, but better late than never." When I finished, my hands shook, but I wasn't sure why. I had six years to miss my parents, so I tried not to let it get to me these days. I rested my hands back in my lap and waited.

Koto's eyebrows pinched together as she let her gaze fall. I couldn't help but compare it to the look I recognized from Rose, Double, service workers, school teachers, and anyone else who had to know. A look you gave to stray cats on the street, or when an untrustworthy friend asks for money. You want to do something to help the sad sight in front of you, but there's nothing you can do.

While Koto's expression was different, I still feared that those same thoughts occupied her mind. I stopped her short before she could sign further. "You don't have to be sorry. My Quirk only lets me see ghosts who died with regrets. I never got to see my parents, so I know they had nothing for me to be sorry about."

I always told myself I wouldn't let people feel sorry for what happened to my parents. I had a few good years with them, and even if I wasn't ready to say goodbye when they were put in quarantine, it's not like I could change it. I had to adapt like anyone else. I had the ghosts to look out for me, and I used Mom and Dad as motivation instead of grief.

I took my turn, moving the checker piece another step forward. Koto stayed still for a moment, which was to be expected. I didn't anticipate a big reaction from her; she wasn't that kind of person. Above all, I had thought she wouldn't understand.

But Koto continued to be a girl to surprise me. Instead of continuing the game and leaving the depressing topic untouched, she went on to sign more.

"I lost my family when I was young too."

I stopped thinking about anything else that might have crossed my mind, replaying the sight of those small, fragile hands confessing something so heavy. I realized I might have waited too long without replying, but the last thing I wanted to do was cut her off.

Koto continued to sign, her hands as shaky as mine were, but she did a good job of hiding any weakened nerves.

"Of course, it's not the same. I don't know what it is you've gone through, and..." She stopped, and I feared I had over step a boundary. "It's my fault."

When she stopped her hands Koto tilted her head to the side and let out a weighted breath as her nose crinkled up, a motion that could be taken as a spiteful laugh or trying to stifle a sob. I only picked up on the emotion as I knew how it felt. It was something that weighed her down with every passing day. The shiver in her head and quiver of her bottom lip worried me that this was too much to bring up. I felt awful about making her feel as though she needed to open up to make me feel better.

But I wouldn't apologize to her. I wouldn't give her the same pitied look that said I had given up on trying to help. I knew the feelings of mourning and grief better than anyone, and I would just stay quiet and listen, letting her tell me as much or as little as she wanted.

"I messed everything up. The car was sliding on ice and I shouldn't have tried to do anything. I didn't understand my Quirk well enough yet, but I wanted to help. In the end, it's my fault that they're gone." Her hands trembled with every sign until eventually quitting after the end of her sentence and falling down to her lap.

What can I possibly tell her? Tears rolled down her round face, her head facing her hands and strands of ginger curls sticking to her cheeks. If there was one thing I sucked at more than anything, it was knowing the right thing to do in these situations. Should I hug her? Tell her it wasn't her fault?

I spent what felt like forever stuck in my head, thinking of anything and everything that could happen. Koto rubbed the sleeves of her sweater across her face, taking a few breaths and locking her eyes onto the board in front of us.

I followed her stare, and, going with my first instinct, I set my hand on her shoulder. When I had her attention, I signed and pointed to her chips. "There's an opening where you can win."

Her eyes narrowed on the red piece closest to my Queen. After sliding it over, I picked up my fallen Queen and handed it to Koto, giving a short but sincere smile, and handed the piece to her, signing, "Good job."

Koto smiled down, one that seemed like she was trying to hold back a laugh or a cry. All of her smiles were different, and I found it interesting to find hidden meanings in each of them.

When she took the checker chip from me, I told her, "It's terrible that you had to go through all that. But if you ever want to talk about it, you have someone who understands to listen to you."

She gave me a smile back, this one not being as big as her others or as forced as when she tries to hold back her emotions, but still a sincere expression. That was all I could ask for.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

After the game, we cleaned up the kitchen. The night went on, and Koto had texted Rose back, accepting the challenge to stay the night in my family's manor. While we cleaned up for the night, I wondered to myself if Koto could handle sleeping here.

She couldn't.

Making the excuse that she "wasn't tired," we decided to stay in the media room for a little longer. My tics usually kept me awake for a while, so I promised her it was alright with me.

I suggested we watch another movie to keep her mind off the ghosts around the room and wait until she could fall asleep. She pulled out one called Christmas Vacation, a live-action supposedly non-Disney family film. We each sat on opposite ends of the long couch, Koto leaning her head on the armrest and myself sitting back with my feet on the coffee table.

We were halfway through the movie, and I had already forgotten the plot. It wasn't bad, but trying to concentrate on reading subtitles with my eyes twitching and the ghosts talking my ear off was impossible.

"So why don't they go home?" Jack suggested, referring to the family in the movie. "Seems like a shit vacation to me."

Edison debated, defending the family values of the movie's theme. I let them talk until the movie was finally over, and Edison won the argument. I looked over to see if Koto wanted to watch another, only to see her with closed eyes and steady breaths. I previously offered her the spare room, but she fell asleep on the couch with ease. Not wanting to move her and feeling the exhaustion numb my legs, I let her rest where she was and leaned my head against the other side of the couch.

I felt the presence of one of the ghosts near me. Looking up, I could see Cleo hovering behind the couch, glancing at Koto with a smile, "I like this friend of yours." All that happened after that blurred together as my eyes fell shut.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

If the morning sun didn't wake me and my tics up, the sound of the ghosts from downstairs did. It was early enough for Edison and Jack to be in some pointless argument with Cleo desperately trying to mend things in the middle.

I sat up and pulled the hair out of my eyes. The title screen for Christmas Vacation still played on the TV, and I left it as a reminder to make sure Koto has her movies before she leaves, which was in of itself a reminder that she had spent the night here.

I stood and stretched my arms out in front of me, feeling the tics fizz out. I stepped out until I could see Koto on the opposite end of the couch, her hands resting underneath her head where sunset orange curls flowed every which way.

She looked like a doll. I rarely noticed how tiny she was; she was even a bit taller than me. She once mentioned she did ballet, so it made sense. It reminded me of a song my mom used to play on her piano. I couldn't remember the name, which bugged me.

She seemed peaceful, but on the other hand, it was almost ten in the morning. I knew she might want to get home soon, so I did what any good friend would. With my foot, I gently kicked the leg of the couch, nudging her awake.

Wake up.

Tiny, once peaceful Koto jolts awake, looking a little more scared until her eyes adjust to the morning light. A second later, it clicks for me.

That's what she reminded me of. It was my mom. More specifically, they had the same eyes. Bright, serene seas of blue irises that were shallow enough to reflect the gold sun. In all my life, those two have been the only ones with those eyes. It was no wonder I wanted to bring that spark back into her personality. The realization had been one stuck in the back of my head since we met, and finally connecting the dots was a huge weight off my shoulders. 

Chapter 11 is dedicated to VanguardActionSquad