Project Heart - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Oh also, you know the drill, yeah? Holler for errors!
Half a dozen books and notebooks were lying discarded on the table as Dikhou sat with his chin rested on his palm, elbow on the armrest, gazing out of the open window.
It was well past midnight. The village was quiet and dark. A sliver of crescent moon hung in the sky, surrounded by a sea of stars. Owls hooted, fireflies gleamed and an occasional breeze wafted in, brushing against Dikhou.
Nights were his favourite; had been for as long as he could remember. As a kid, he and his father used to spend many a night sitting outside, counting stars. After his death, the night sky became one of the only things that made Dikhou feel closer to his father. The moon, the beautiful, magnificent moon, in all its shapes, could calm him down even on his worst days, and the quiet of a sleeping world was the most beautiful music he had ever heard. There was also a kind of freedom hidden in the dark. Here, with no one watching, he could take off the mask and breathe easier.
Tonight, his thoughts were a muddled mess of dangerous ideas. Dikhou had spent the better part of the night - after his mother and sister had gone to sleep - googling all that he had learnt from Junak. At first, things did not make sense. And then they did. A little too much for his comfort.
So, at around one o'clock, when his phone rang, flashing brightly in the otherwise dark room, he knew how the conversation was going to go. And he dreaded it as much as he wanted it.
"Weren't sleeping, were you?" came a soft voice from the other end, crisp, clear and wide awake.
"No." Dikhou leaned back on his chair, letting out a deep sigh. "You're late. Almost thought you wouldn't call."
The woman let out a weak groan. "Got caught up with some work. But my break's started now, so I'm all yours for the next twenty minutes."
Dikhou smiled. It was routine for him and his sister to call each other at the dead of the night; a routine the rest of their family members did not understand.
"So," Jiri said, "how was your day?"
There it was, his opening. He only needed to take the wild leap and ask. He knew he wanted to. The desire was like an itch under his skin.
But still, he hesitated.
People don't come out because of all the stigma, but yeah, they exist.
"Dikhou?" Jiri sounded concerned. "Is something wrong?"
His heart was hammering and he felt hot despite the cold. "Jiri-ba."
"Hmm?"
"Do you remember Kaustav?"
Silence followed, heavy, thick and uncomfortable. When his sister spoke again, her voice was tight. "Your classmate? Yeah, I - I heard he's working somewhere in Guwahati now. What - what about him?"
Dikhou knew she was as nervous as him. He wondered if this was a bad idea after all, but then he remembered how casually Junak said he liked men, women, non-binary people...
"Do you remember what you told me?" Dikhou's own voice sounded distant to him like it was someone else speaking.
"W-What?"
"That day, do you remember what you told me?"
Jiri didn't answer but Dikhou did not really need her to. He knew she remembered, despite all the years that had passed.
Kaustav had joined school when they were in fifth grade. Small, funny, kind and absolutely brilliant with the flute, he and Dikhou had clicked instantly. For years they hung out together, all the time, everywhere, until Dikhou started noticing how his heart would race every time Kaustav smiled, or how warm it felt whenever they touched. And on one perfectly ordinary day, thirteen-year-old Dikhou had gone to his eldest sister asking why he felt giddy and nicely-weird around his friend.
"It's in your head," Dikhou whispered. "That's what you said. That I was overthinking. It's some crazy puberty phase that I'll grow out of."
"Dikhou-"
"Don't think about it and don't tell anyone about this."
Jiri sucked in a sharp breath. "Why are you bringing this up? Did something happen?" A pause. "Did you meet Kaustav?"
"No." Taking Jiri's advice was hard so he started to distance himself from his best friend to the point where they barely spoke at all. And the last he had seen Kaustav was many years ago when they graduated high school. "I was just reading about it. Online."
"Dikhou." Jiri was clearly exasperated though she tried to keep her voice steady. "You know people say all kinds of things online-"
"I spoke to someone," Dikhou interrupted. Outside of his sister's breaths through the phone, the whole world seemed to have gone silent. Like it was as anxious as he was. It gave him the courage needed to continue. "He said he feels like that too. Said there might be around five people in the village who... feel this."
"Dikhou, seriously?!" Jiri cried, this time not bothering to hide her disapproval under pleasant tones. "Who are you hanging out with?"
He sighed. Despite his hopes, he knew this was how it was going to pan out.
"Y-You can't listen to all this, okay?"
Dikhou did not reply.
"The more you think about it, the more you'll start believing it."
Dikhou sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the sharp sting behind his eyes. "Okay," he said, mostly to end the damned conversation. He got all that he was expecting from her. There was nothing else for him to say.
She pressed, echoing his "Okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah. You're right. I... I was just asking. You're right." Dikhou forced a chuckle. "Anyway, tell me about your day. How's my dorky brother-in-law doing?"
Jiri laughed, her relief loud and raw, and began recounting the day's events. Dikhou was barely paying attention. Ten minutes later, when she was done, he hung up and let out a sigh that felt dangerously close to a sob.
The phone fell from his fingers and clattered on the table, atop the books.
Dikhou leaned forward, hiding his face in his palms.
Twelve years ago, he had believed his sister. After all, she was the eldest and the smartest and knew best. He had believed her and forced himself to not think about how he felt around certain guys, told himself the impossible knot in his stomach was probably just some... sickness he was coming down with.
Today, he knew better than to believe her blindly. Yet, at the same time, he could not disregard her words altogether.
He did not believe Jiri anymore but he did understand where she was coming from - he could not dwell on it because it was something he could never get.
He wasn't like Junak - living in America, with rich parents and barely any roots left with his extended family. Dikhou was here, with his mother and sisters and he had responsibilities towards them.
The internet said it was not unnatural. That might be, but still, it was not for someone like him.
In an attempt to clear his head, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet. He picked up a muffler from where it hung on the bedpost and wrapped it around his ears and shoulders. Then, careful to not wake his sister sleeping in the next room, he walked out of the house.
He shivered as he stepped out onto their backyard. The moon barely provided any light and coupled with the trees looming around him, his surroundings were bathed in eerie darkness. Anyone else might've needed a flashlight to navigate but he had been there for twenty-five years. And night-time strolls were his thing.
Expertly, he made his way towards the handpump located a few feet away from the house -
A flash of bright, white light appearing out of nowhere made him freeze in his steps. The air was thick with the chirping of insects. To his left, across the fence that separated their compound from Baruah koka's, Dikhou saw a lone figure standing there with a flashlight held near their chest.
Dikhou's smile was near involuntary and completely uncontrollable.
Before he was aware of what he was doing, his feet led him towards the bamboo fence that reached up to his stomach.
True to his guess, it was Junak Baruah standing in the middle of his grandfather's backyard. For whatever reason, he was stiff as a board, unmoving.
Dikhou suddenly had an idea.
As quietly as he could, he climbed over the fence and landed lightly on his feet on the other side. He then tiptoed towards Junak.
Where Junak stood, there were grassy patches of land on either side of him but up ahead were large betelnut trees that loomed ominously in the dark. Junak's eyes darted nervously as an owl hooted in the distance.
Dikhou crawled up from behind, rested his mouth near Junak's ear and whispered, "Hello, Junak."
A high-pitched scream cut through the air. Junak jumped, then whipped around, his flashlight falling directly on Dikhou's eyes who squinted and made to shove it away from his face. Fearing an assault, Junak stepped back, tripped over his own feet and fell back on the grass. Dikhou reached for him on impulse but momentum dragged him down with him.
That was... not the plan he had in mind.
Junak's phone fell on the grass beside them, lighting up the sides of their faces. Dikhou had fallen on top of the other man, his elbows scraping against the ground. Below him, Junak had his eyes tightly closed as he muttered, "P-Please don't hurt me."
Dikhou laughed quietly.
"P-Please, I'll do w-whatever you want."
Wow. "I'm not gonna - hey. Open your eyes, it's just me."
Junak shook his head, closing his eyes tighter.
Dikhou was supposed to find this stupid and possibly crazy but he just found it impossibly endearing. "Open your eyes, won't you? It's me, Dikhou. I'm not a ghost."
"That's what I - I'd say if I w-were a ghost," Junak muttered.
Dikhou laughed, his voice crackling in the quiet of the night.
Junak's brows furrowed and he hesitantly opened one eye, before fully blinking up at him.
Dikhou's mirth died in his throat when he realised the positions they were in. Junak's face was inches away from his, his breath warm against his skin. Their legs were tangled together, with Dikhou's chest pressed against Junak's.
His stomach dropped, a jittery sensation crawling up his body.
Okay, this was definitely not part of his plan.
Before Dikhou could force his stupid brain to do something smart like get the fuck up, Junak said the most ridiculously adorable thing he had ever heard in his life. "So, were you the ghost all along?"
Dikhou barely managed to stop himself from wheezing at Junak's face. "Oh yes," he laughed, "totally. You got me." Then, in a heavier voice, as if mimicking a ghost, he said, "It was me all along. And now I'm going to... wait," he frowned, "what do ghosts do exactly?"
Junak narrowed his eyes and huffed. He pushed Dikhou's shoulders. "G-Get off!"
Dikhou rolled off of him, landing on his back next to Junak. He was laughing like the world was about to end and this was his one last chance to feel alive; his heart felt warm. "You need to stop watching horror films."
Junak huffed again, dramatically.
Dikhou turned to face him. Even in the dark, he could make out how Junak's face was stricken with fear. His laughter died down. "You okay?"
Junak brought a hand to his chest, over his heart, and did not reply.
Dikhou propped himself up on one arm. The grass underneath was wet with dew. "Not having a heart attack, are you?"
Junak scowled. "If I did, it'd be on you."
Fair. "Sorry." The chuckle that escaped his lips took away all the sincerity in his apology.
Junak raised his middle finger at him.
Dikhou beamed. "What are you doing out here anyway?"
Junak sat up and reached out to pick up his phone. As usual, he was wearing an oversized fluffy sweater and a woollen cap. "Who builds the stupid bathroom outside the house?" he cried, stumbling to his feet, brushing off the grass stuck to his sleeves.
Dikhou stood up as well, the strange giddy feeling still lingering in his stomach. "You really are scared of ghosts, aren't you?"
Junak stiffened. He fidgeted with his phone as he stared down at his feet.
All of a sudden, Dikhou felt like a major jerk. "Junak?"
"I was ten," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "We had a school event and we stayed the night in the hostel. I... I saw..." He trailed off.
"A ghost?"
Junak nodded. "She was a senior. W-Who'd killed herself one month before."
Dikhou was stunned to silence. He wasn't a believer of supernatural stuff, certainly not of ghosts, but he could tell Junak believed it and that was good enough to make his fear as real and as valid as anyone's else's.
"S-She didn't hurt me, b-but I f-felt her grief... and her rage. She looked..." Junak shuddered.
"Hey." Dikhou took an uncertain step towards him. "Do you want me to accompany you to the bathroom?" Even as he said it, he could imagine Junak making a face at him and saying something along the lines of fuck off.
So when Junak stiffly nodded, he was pleasantly surprised.
"Come on, then." Dikhou walked beside Junak as they made their way to the bathroom. He waited outside and once done, he wordlessly walked Junak back to the house.
At the door, Junak stopped with his back to Dikhou. "You're very annoying."
Though Dikhou knew he probably deserved it, he couldn't keep his smile at bay. "You know, there are no ghosts here. And even if they are, I'm sure they don't want to hurt us." He shrugged. "It's people who're the real monsters."
Junak did not move for a few seconds, the wait feeling too long as Dikhou wondered if he'd just made a fool of himself. But then, he looked over his shoulder and said, "Don't tell anyone about tonight."
Dikhou remembered how warm Junak felt against him, the strange feeling in his chest, and how he did not want to get off. He gulped. "I won't if you won't."
Junak cracked a small smile before walking into the house and Dikhou realised again, after many years, how damn hard it was to follow his sister's stupid advice.