At a time in between daylight and darkness on the 1st of November, two newborns of opposite sexes drew breath—the girl that, from the start, allowed high-pitched mewls and cries of unknown purpose to spill from her blooded lips, and the boy that, in his silence (let alone that sound of his strained pattern of breathing), plainly allowed his gaze to quickly adjust to the bright illumination that practically shone right before him. He looked around the uncolored walls and blobs of color (that he later made out as people) surrounding him, with a gaze that spoke—this, his peepers peeking through their slanted openings seemingly boasted, I’ve done all of this before. As their mother, a mess of sweat from the prior effort exerted from labor, cradled the both of them snuggly in her arms that were barely able to, she was quick to notice that the boy had old eyes, girded with pupils that so blatantly paints a contrasting picture of confidence infused with nonchalance in different shades of milky chocolate.

A few years passed, and you could say his mother’s assumptions were nowhere off target. The number of times Jay had been presumed mute by people who his parents would forcibly introduce him to ranges uncountable by the fingers attached onto his broad hands as well as his twin’s much smaller ones combined. A discreet nudge from a shoulder much less masculine than his was always needed before he would actually vocalize the musings leisurely prancing in his mind. It was dully like that until a girl, eternally of the age ten—with translucent curls for hair and a tattered Sunday dress of a very faint sunshine-like glow for everyday attire—trudged right past his door and into his room. Ariadne, she introduced herself. Ah, perhaps this would be a good time to bring up the fact that Jay’s twin sister was girded with the uncanny ability to see the dead in their nebulous manifestations. Much more than that, she could actually communicate with them.

Now, Jay was not gifted with that same ability, but for some reason, he could see this little girl even without her willingness to manifest. Sai, despite her abilities, fails to channel Ariadne, no matter how much she tries—she can only ever feel her presence. Chaos ensues among their residence as Jay is often caught talking to thin air while spending his hours at school. Presumptions arose that there was a loose screw struggling to hold his sanity together.

Schizophrenic, the man clad in a white lab gown concluded. The supposed symptoms that the therapist found in Jay were all as if unadulterated text lifted right from the thick book where this man had garnered all of his knowledge—and it all pointed to Schizophrenia.

Thus, this results in his long list of daily medications that he was forced to take until he meets with his end. Unneeded medication, really—Ariadne was an actual specter, and not just a product of Jay’s imagination. If he further pushed on that fact, however, he knew that it would only give leeway for more medication to be shoved down his throat and more appointments to be made. He knew better than to fight for what he knew was true, given the factors surrounding that situation.

Schizophrenic, Jay agreed. Eventually, everyone agreed—even Sai who knew the truth. She trusted that her brother had his reasons for just accepting what these professionals were serving on his plate.

And so he continued on living his life in the most normal way he could manage, with the title schizophrenic trailing behind him hand-in-hand with the spirit of the little girl that refused to leave his side as much as possible. Surprising as it may be, it was pretty normal. He eventually graduated, and was set to move out, being dragged along by Sai.

They were presented different luxuries upon their departure—a sizable house far too big for the three (Ariadne included) of them, a shiny car freshly driven out of the air-conditioned establishment for car dealership, and a bank account with a hefty amount of zeroes loaded onto it.

No, wait, cross out the car mentioned prior—this was exchanged for an ice cream truck. It was a spew of Sai love for the smoking cold delicacy—in exchange for the car their parents have left them with (which they sold, due to lack of space in the house they have been provided), she harassed his twin brother into getting one and operating it around town, to—in the exact words of Sai herself—“spread happiness, especially to the children in the neighborhood!”

Jay hated all things cold— his twin is just lucky that he loves her enough to overlook that enmity. The only thing that he’s pissed about was the fact that he had to use that same truck to get around town since they sold off their other car.

At the same time, they also run this business of driving spirits away and also channeling the dead through Sai, though this faction of their residency remains something only uttered about in voices hush and under breaths—it is only so often that they get clients, and even less frequent that they accept them. During their escapades doing this, Ariadne serves as Jay’s eyes and ears since he’s when it comes to that.