A/N: Welcome to my not-really-new story! As stated above, this is a rewrite of 'The Ghosts of Repentance Past', my first multi-chap story. Although... even if I say it's a rewrite, that doesn't mean this story and its predecessor are mirror images. I've tweaked a few things, made this and that be another this and that. Most events from Repentance will not be repeated the same way. I'd rather you think of this as an entirely new story, really, because I changed too many details. Though yeah, the premise is still the same.

Basically, Repentance was my own take on Ghost Hunt. I used the same characters and the same time frame, though not the same plot, themes and cases. These will also be applied to Phantasmagoria, but unlike in Repentance, I've planted more twists and bombs here ;)

Why the new title, you ask? Necessary. Just look at the summary~

Rated T for some instances of strong language and mentions of delicate themes (i.e. suicide, death). And of course, because there'll be ghosts, duh.

My explanation stops here. Finally, right? But yeah, I might give something away if I continue *v* If you have any questions, please feel free to comment below or PM me :D

PHANTASMAGORIA

1: Extreme Extrication

.

White prickled at Mai's closed eyes, wanting nothing more than to catch a glimpse of them, but their owner refused to oblige. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter and hurriedly swung an arm over them to keep the persistent light away.

It did not work, to her dismay. White was replaced by Red and Orange and Stars and Pain. Her eyes stung from the force of her arm, so she moved the limb away. But the White was there again, waiting. Groggy and irritated, she contemplated giving up to the persistent light, but her eyes were stubborn. No waking up yet.

More minutes than she'd cared to count had passed before the White bothered her again. It was unrelenting this time, brighter, more aggressive, as if it was attempting to blind her through closed lids.

Silently admitting defeat, she opened her eyes.

And promptly regretted it soon afterward.

Everything was too bright, too clean, too much. It was already her two hundred and ninety-seventh morning here, yet despite her aversion to the place, still, she did not leave. 'Til now, she wasn't used to . . . she couldn't —

"Oh, good you're awake," a brash tone said, interrupting her thoughts. The voice was undoubtedly familiar, one of her only comforts in this maddening place. "Mai, get up, I have something to show you."

She turned her head towards her visitor, wordlessly asking her to continue. With red hair aptly framing her fiery expression, Ayako Matsuzaki simply raised both her eyebrows in response, as if repeating her command. Get up.

"Aya — Dr. Matsuzaki, I really think it's too early in the morning for —"

"No, no, it's the perfect time," the woman interrupted. Still with raised eyebrows, she pointed her gaze to the space above the window, where a clock ticked dutifully. Three quarters past six, it said. "You have more than enough time to get ready."

". . . For what?" Mai asked, weary of the woman's intentions. She was sure this was another one of her schemes to kick her out of the hospital.

"For school!" Ayako showed her what she had been hiding behind her back. It was a school uniform.

I knew it.

-:-:-:-:-

Mai bade the doctor goodbye for the seventh time, brushing off persistent offers of lunch money and a drive to school. She truly appreciated Ayako's concern, but the fact that the woman forced her to go out made the sentiments traitorous in her eyes. She had been perfectly fine in that room, had no need to go anywhere else when she had all she wanted right there. She didn't want to go out, especially not to school; she hadn't gone there for several months now and she had no plans of going back.

But apparently, if she didn't want to be permanently kicked out of the hospital, she had to go back and attend classes like a good, normal kid. Online classes didn't count anymore, said Ayako.

She glanced at the hand-drawn map Ayako gave her. It was a fair distance from the hospital to her high school; she estimated ten minutes by bus, thirty by feet. She chose to walk. After months and months of being cooped up in one single place, she grudgingly admitted it was nice to be out for once. Winter had gone and passed quietly. All the snow had finally melted away and the trees had started to bloom. The fresh air tickled her skin, and she inhaled . . . exhaled. Absent was the smell of death.

Present was the sight.

Never mind that, Mai told herself hastily, then chanted under her breath a mantra taught by another girl who was just like her. The girl told her to say it three times whenever she felt that they were entering her peripheral. Although the advice rarely ever worked, she practiced it nonetheless; it helped her steady her heartbeat.

Another totem was a bracelet imbued with charms given to her by Ayako. And, like the chant, even though it often did not work to shield her . . . vision, she clung onto it nonetheless. Prayers and spells had been poured into the accessory, prayers and spells that Ayako worked hard to perfect. She believed in them and that alone should be enough to erase her cowardice.

She inhaled once again and revelled at the absence of the smell of death and disinfectant in the air. Ignoring the shifting figures at the edge of her vision, she stepped forward and continued her walk. She distracted herself by enumerating the advanced subjects she took online, wondering if she could be allowed to skip some classes. Or maybe she should just ditch.

A gust of wind propelled a wondrous amount of petals toward her, prompting her to look up from the ground so she could admire the scenery. The trees around her danced gracefully, swaying as if hearing a waltz. Their branches and leaves sang along, tranquil humming permeating the air.

Beneath the peaceful hub was a sight that ended the harmony for Mai, confusion plaguing her instead. In front of her was a boy — a boy who she undoubtedly knew she'd met in the past, but couldn't remember when and how. She was certain however that it was wrong to meet him again this way.

Not like this . . . I don't ever want to meet him again if it means seeing him as a ghost of the past . . .

As her vision blurs and distorts, the world before her eyes turns into a reality of indescribable colors. Then the landscape before her shifts, yet stays the same. The song of the early morning disappears, mutes for a split second, and comes back again. The boy beneath serenity, who has — just a second ago — been running frantically toward her, has vanished. Then he returns . . . to the very spot where she has first seen him. Instead of alarm dominating his features, he dons a mask of muted calm.

And then, she is running.

She is going to be late for Mr. Kinoshita's math test! The number one rule to Kinoshita's Algebra 101 is never be late, or else. Unless life or death is the matter, he won't take any excuses, and most definitely not 'Sorry sir, I woke up late because Mom forgot to wake me up before she left for work'.

Cursing her fate, she closes her eyes and wills with all her heart for her legs to carry her faster to school. Limbs scream in protest, but heed her request nevertheless. She's going to make it. She won't be late.

With the wind biting at her as she runs, she opens her eyes just to make sure. Yup, right there. She can see the school just a few meters away—! Where did it go?!

"Oof!" she grunts as she slams face first into a wall—or is it a wall? Walls aren't supposed to bend to the whims of gravity just because a weak little teenage girl has crashed into it, right? And they aren't supposed to fall on top of her like this!

She yelps as she falls back along with the wall—which, apparently, is not a wall after all. She realizes, just as her calves felt a marble base behind her, that what she has slammed into and is now falling with into a fountain, is a boy around her age. A boy who is one head taller than her, has awkward, gangly limbs, and a face sporting an expression that evidently shows: 'What the hell?' She has ran into a boy. Not a wall.

Splash! says the murky water when they meet it. Two seconds later, they both emerge—filthy and sodden. As she tries to stand up, nose inflamed, a sudden fit of coughs possesses her. The boy on the other hand stays down on hands and knees, seeming to be searching for something underneath the water.

She steps out of the fountain first, apologies already forming on the tip of her tongue, but then she remembers what the contents of her bag are. She removes its straps from her shoulders, pausing to pull the zipper, and holds the soggy container upside down. Her things fall to the ground and alarm flows through her despite knowing what she's going to see. All her expensive textbooks are dead.

Crap. Her mom is going to murder her.

A defeated sigh accompanies her own nervous whimper, prompting her to remember that she isn't the only victim here. She looks up from the pathetic pile of her ruined school supplies to the boy behind her. He towers over her, standing tall and poised and, even though he's obviously soaking, it looks as if he is not at all ruffled by their collision. He stands dignified even in his marred clothes: a close-fitted Prussian blue sweater and perfectly cut jeans.

A sodden book is likewise in his clenched hands, hardbound, with no title on its cover; it must have been what he was searching for. He stares at it with a blank gaze, looking as if he wants to pierce a hole into it using only his mind.

And finally, after unbearable moments of creeping apprehension on her part and begrudged resignation on his, he speaks. "Here, I don't need this anymore," he says as he drops his book into her hands and walks away. Then as a farewell—of sorts—he mutters, "I only got that from the publishing house last week."

"I'm really sorry!" she calls after him, her apology sincere. A sense of camaraderie fills her chest, realizing they both suffer the same misery. Never mind the fact that she's the cause of both their books' demise.

"By the way," he adds as he continues walking away without a pause, ignoring her apology. "Do you go to that school?" He points to the buildings ahead.

". . . Yes? "

"The bell rang a couple of minutes ago. You're late."

"I'm late?!"

I'm late I'm late I'm late

"I'm late! Mr. Kinoshita's going to kill me for being late for his math test! Oh no oh crap oh my god he's going to kill me he's going to fail me in that class he's—"

"Mai."

A clear voice, calm but resolute, interrupted Mai's growing panic. A pair of hands helped settle her, firmly grasping both her shoulders to keep her grounded. She glanced up and met brown eyes that were anxious and relieved and sad and happy. The turbulent of emotions in those eyes were ever so familiar, both comforting and maddening.

"Ayako, why are you here? You're ditching med school again, aren't you," she said, disproving. She looked around and found that a) everything was spinning and she could feel barf coming up, and b) she was in an unfamiliar room. ". . . Where am I?"

"You're in school. Remember? It's your first day of high school today." Ayako sighed as she brushed away Mai's forelocks to rest a palm on her brow. When she deemed the girl's temperature normal, she reached for her bag and took out a stethoscope. Donning the earpieces, she pressed the diaphragm to Mai's chest and told her to breathe deeply. "Your lungs seem to be fine."

"My lungs have always been fine, Dr. Matsuzaki."

"Stop being formal, I was only joking when I told you to call me that," Ayako blushed, flicking Mai's nose with more force than necessary. "And no, your lungs haven't always been fine. Need I remind you, you were born with a horrible lung disease and—need I remind you—even though your disease is in remission, there's still the possibility of it coming back."

"I know, I know, Auntie informs me every time we meet," she said, smiling tiredly. Ayako's mother was her doctor — or had been, as the girl liked to tell herself often, since she'd already been healed of her illness(es). "I'll try to be more careful. My lungs are fine. See?" She inhaled a huge breath through her nose and released it gradually through her mouth, the end transforming into a slight whistle when she brought her lips closer.

Ayako ruffled Mai's hair. "If you say so. But still." The woman looked straight into her eyes. "The boy who brought you here looked pretty rattled. Said you just fainted all of a sudden."

"But I didn't—! . . . I'm sorry for worrying you."

"I know."

Although it had been common for her as a child to faint at the most random times because of her weak lungs, it'd been a while—eight years, in fact—since she last 'collapsed'. She hadn't realized at first, but apparently she used to faint whenever she saw them when she was younger. . . . Though, she didn't understand. She'd already found a way to control these episodes. Yes she still saw them, but she never lost her grip on consciousness, not anymore.

"Anyway," Ayako said after minutes of comfortable silence. "You have classes, or have you forgotten?" The woman smirked, obviously pleased with herself. She pulled Mai up from the cot and handed her schoolbag.

"Yes, yes, I remember well. You're the one who forced me to come," Mai replied, rolling her eyes. With a push from Ayako, she strode out the room and trudged through the hallway aimlessly. She didn't know where she was supposed to go. It was her first time inside the school; she had been allowed to take the exam at the hospital and Ayako took care of the enrollment here. "Why are you here anyway? Decided to work as a school doctor or something?"

"Or something." Ayako snickered. She pulled Mai's elbow and steered her toward the other direction.

"No way."

"Yes. Way."

"Here? Seriously? Is this why you made me attend classes again, so you can spy on me?"

"Psh, not everything's about you, Mai."

"Don't blame me for thinking that you're acting suspicious." She narrowed her eyes.

"It was a coincidence, a coincidence," the redhead sang, her eyes bright with mischief. "It just so happened that when I submitted your documents, I overheard your principal talking about it on his phone."

"Oh, so now you're an eavesdropper on top of being a stalker. Not a bad addition," Mai teased, ducking away when the doctor started to lift an arm to hit her shoulder. "Your dad's gonna be livid when he hears you took another offer."

"So?" An unladylike snort came from Ayako, a sound she otherwise wouldn't have made if she hadn't been alone with Mai. "It's not like I'm abandoning my real job in favor of my side job."

"But what about your internship?"

"I took a break." Ayako laughed. "My family owns the hospital after all, and the internship is only a formality anyway."

"Does Auntie approve?"

"Mom encourages even my craziest ideas."

"So I guess this counts? I still can't believe your parents allow you to continue practicing—" Mai rolled her eyes. "—priestesshood."

"I do what I want." Ayako stuck out her tongue. Very mature.

"But what about the incident last time . . ." She furrowed her brows in concern. "You might get hurt again."

"Don't worry, Mai, I'll be fine," Ayako reassured, trying not to twitch at the mention of her blunder before. "And the principal hired some other guys, too. Even though I did say I'll be able to take care of it on my own."

"That's probably for the best."

"Well now, we've reached your destination," the doctor informed, pausing in front of a wooden sliding door. Written on the sign above was '1-C'. "Good luck on your first day as a high school student. Don't destroy anything, okay? Wait for me at the gate later, we'll go home together," she said, pinching Mai's nose. She waited for the girl to go in before she headed elsewhere, to where she was meeting the principal.

-:-:-:-:-

The curious smell of weathered books and chalk dust was the first thing Mai noticed as she entered. Second were the piercing stares.

The teacher had been cut off midsentence when the door opened, and for this reason his eyes trailed to the entrance near the back of the classroom. There stood a petite girl around the age of fifteen, with hair—that had almost the same brown shade of her eyes—chopped near the base of her ear.

"You must be the new student," the teacher surmised aloud, partly to inform the rest of the class but mostly to verify the statement. All he knew about the new student was that she was a she and she was a brunette. And, that she was giving him extra paperwork for enrolling three weeks after the official start of the school year.

Mai nodded vaguely and continued to the nearest seat she could find, which was almost next to the door she had just entered from. She took off her backpack, for a split second confused why it wasn't wet but then she remembered, and pulled out two of three of her bag's contents: one notebook and one mechanical pencil.

Looking up from her desk, she saw what she had been avoiding to meet—a sea of eyes staring at her. Some were new and inquisitive, others were familiar and weary. One, two . . . Four people here were from her old middle school.

The teacher cleared his throat. "Please introduce yourself first, uh . . ." He opened a drawer and shuffled his papers, quietly cursing himself for not remembering the girl's name. When at last he found her file, he said, "Ms. Taniyama."

Complying—but not really—Mai stood up and introduced herself, not walking up to the front of the room as the teacher would have liked. "Good morning. My name is Mai Taniyama. Yoroshiku." Then she bowed slightly, sat back down and opened her notebook.

"Hey," a friendly voice from her left whispered just as the teacher continued his drone about the Edo period. "My name's Keiko Takahashi, nice to meet you."

Mai managed a weak smile in return.

Two more periods came to pass, the class buzzing throughout the short breaks in between. Except for the four who were from her old school, everyone came to meet the mysterious new student. Names and greetings were exchanged, and after which they commenced their inquisition; although, they quickly found that the new student wasn't much of a conversationalist.

So then, they snuck off to the next best source of information: one of the new student's old classmates, who loved attention. He seized the chance to be in the spotlight and wove a magnificent tale to appease his eager listeners.

By the time the lunch bell rang, all the students of class 1-C now knew who Mai Taniyama was and why she had enrolled three weeks late.

By the time the lunch bell rang, all the students of class 1-C now lost their curiosity for Mai Taniyama, instead feeling only either sympathy or indifference towards her.

-:-:-:-:-

The second to the last class Mai had for this day was Physical Education—the class she hated the most, doubly now because it was a joint class with another first year section. Thankfully, she had the right to refuse participation; it was part of the compromise she had with Ayako. She promised not to skip any of her other classes and the doctor gave her a medical slip to allow her non-participation in that class.

"Mai!"

Sitting on the bench, she looked up from her mindless scrawls and saw Michiru Inoue running toward her from across the indoor gym, hands flailing as she excitedly waved hello. Michiru was another of her old classmates. Like all the people from that school, she knew Mai didn't have a father, that he died when Mai had still been young. She knew that Mai's mother died as well, which had happened during the summer of her last year in middle school. And, she knew Mai tried to kill herself soon after. However, unlike all the other people from that school, Michiru was the only one who hadn't glimpsed Mai through eyes hazed by pity or glazed by gossip. Michiru had been there to be Mai's friend.

"I'm so glad to see you! How have you been, Mai? It's been so long since I last saw you," Michiru said, pulling her up from her seat and sweeping her into a crushing embrace. "I tried calling you at your house but you never picked up."

"I'm glad to see you, too," she replied, disentangling herself from the other girl. "I'm sorry for missing your calls, I've been with my aunt this whole time," she explained simply, throwing in a smile for good measure.

"Ooh, that must have been fun! You mentioned before that your aunt had a daughter, right? Did you get along?"

"Sort of," she laughed. "We fought a lot, though it wasn't about anything serious. What about you? How was your summer?"

Michiru groaned. "I visited my grandparents and, I love them really, but teaching them how to use a computer was frustrating."

They chatted a bit more about their summers, with Mai skimming over the barest she could tell Michiru without painting the entire picture, before Michiru was called back for a class activity. She had told her friend about the enormous house she'd been living in for the past few months and the lovely helpers her aunt had employed, about the beautiful garden she often visited, and about the strict but tender Mrs. Katsumi Matsuzaki.

Although in reality, she had been talking about the hospital, the nurses, and the park beside the building. Mrs. Matsuzaki—Dr. Matsuzaki—had only been doing her job by being strict about Mai's health.

Watching her classmates as they were doing their stretching exercise, she sighed and slouched back on her seat. It was always hard to not-lie to Michiru.

It wasn't long until she grew bored of watching her peers run around a small track again and again. In fact, she lasted only ten minutes. Thinking about the book she had in her bag, she went up to the teacher in charge and told her that she wanted to go to the nurse's office. The teacher approved without question.

With her notebook and mechanical pencil gripped firmly in one hand, she strode forward—slowly, acting as if she was sick—and headed towards the opposite direction of where she was supposed to go. If the teacher noticed and tried to reprimand her, she could always just say she hadn't known where the clinic was. When no one yelled at her after she took her tenth step, she continued on her traverse to her classroom, quietly debating with herself whether she should read her book or sleep.

An impossible sight stopped her dead in her tracks.

It was the boy, the one she saw on her way to school.

He was exactly as he had been this morning. Tall and domineering in his stance, he carried himself surely and confidently. A mop of neatly cropped black hair framed dark indigo eyes that spoke of knowledge and curiosity, the hints of despondency hidden from plain sight. One difference was his clothes; instead of a casual blue sweater and faded jeans, he wore black from head to toe.

He was with another boy—a foreigner, clearly, with blonde hair and bright cerulean eyes. Although it was too far for Mai to hear, it seemed as if they were in a deep discussion; the dark haired boy's lips moved rapidly as he spoke while the foreigner nodded every so often, his brows knotted in concentration.

The sight was surreal. Mai couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Wasn't the boy she met this morning supposed to be . . . But clearly someone was talking to him. Unless the foreigner, too, was . . .

The two young men started to walk away, and Mai followed, compelled by an incomprehensible force. When they disappeared out of her line of vision as they rounded a corner, she broke into a run to catch up, hoping desperately that they were still there.

Just as she was about to round the same corner, she heard their voices. With her back against the wall, she strained her ears. Quickly thereafter, she found that they were speaking in a language which was not her native tongue. She understood only a few words. It was in times like this that she regretted having English as her second most-hated subject.

". . . Mr. Brown . . . trust . . . please don't . . ."

"I . . . Mr. Da—Shibuya . . . promise . . ."

She leaned into their conversation, grasping at any more words she could recognize, all the while berating herself for even hiding. What was the point? They wouldn't notice her anyway; they were in another realm. They were dead.

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: Soooo, how was it? You're confused? Well, of course you are ;)

Huge-ass thanks to archangelBBQ for being the greatest, patientest, amazingest sempai eeeeeevuuurr! For fixing my loopy phrasing and for supporting my outrageous idea of having this rewrite, maraming salamat! You are ze awesomest~~ If you guys haven't yet—which I totally doubt though—go read her stories too!11!

Thank you to Xymena Falling as well for beta reading, too!