Hanazawa Teruki was not particularly interested in art nor history. He didn't see the use in dwelling on things that were intangible or had already happened. Why would he spend the time he had when he wasn't doing home work or club activities to learn more? He was definitely a typical college student, preferring to spend his time sleeping or watching Netflix, something that didn't require a lot of brain power. He whiled his time away with meaningless tasks, all completed to perfection of course, and enjoyed his long lasting popularity with the other students and basically anyone he talked to, at least that's what he believed. But, family was important to Teruki, never mind that he never listened to his them talk about – the family traditions and history must be upheld, Teruki! - stuff.

So when his grandfather told him there was an emergency, very conspicuously leaving out what exactly that emergency was, Teru rushed to help. It wouldn't do to not be a great grandson, after all, he aspired to be the perfect example of whatever he chose to be.

That lead to Teru watching his grandfather with an incredulous expression. They were sat in the middle of the small house his grandfather had built eons ago; Teru couldn't exactly remember when. The wooden floors creaked with age, interrupting the silence that spread through the empty house. His knees already felt quite numb from how long he'd been sitting there, waiting for the elderly man to explain exactly what the emergency was. "You called me all the way home to give me this?" His tone was confused, and yet slightly amused. He looked down at his palm, which still cradled the gift.

Two pens.

He'd been asked to come back from university, take a 5 hour long train ride, take a bus and hike up the mountain to where his hermit of a grandpa lived, all to be confronted with two pens? Gramps must be kidding. He very much loved the old man, but this had him either laughing or crying, he wasn't sure yet. "Oh man.", he sighed softly, shaking his head with a fond smile. "Thanks a bunch, Gramps. I'll make sure to look after them." Teru carefully set the pens down, not yet taking a closer look. There couldn't possibly be something special about two pens, right? Thoughts drifting to different topics, Teru turned his attention back to the expectant face of his grandfather. Watchful, dark eyes stared at him from the deeply lined face, a broad toothy smile on the man's lips. "I thought it was time for you to inherit them! They still work, y'know!" His grandfather laughed loudly, standing up from his own position on thr ground and motioned for Teru to follow. "C'mon, let's go say hi to your grandmother! I think she's been lonely ever since you left!"

Teru couldn't argue with that. "Yeah, let's. She's probably fed up with seeing you every day."

The other man scoffed and replied, "Well, she at least choose to see me every day, she was just saddled with you!"

Both clapping each other on the backs, they made their way out of the room, crossing the doorway into the garden, where the grave of his grandmother lied.

–

"Hanazawa! How come you missed class?"

The loud voice of his lecturer made his ears ring and he contained an exasperated sigh. Of course they'd notice me missing. The thought was half smug, half annoyed.

"There was a family emergency, Sir. I had to go back home."

It wasn't a lie, but a somewhat stretched truth. His grandfather had indeed needed help with some repair work and Teru did end staying for a few days, nostalgia preventing him from leaving. They talked a lot – so, when are you finally getting a girlfriend?! - and fought – get off my back about that, ya old man! - but, as Teru realized on his way back home, the old man forgot to actually explained why he gifted the two pens to Teru and exactly what they even symbolized.

The lecturer frowned, creating deep lines in his otherwise smooth face. "I know this subject is just an elective for you, Hanazawa, but please try to take it seriously."

Teru supressed an eye roll, and yet nodded in agreement. He did have a reputation to uphold – he was always first in whatever he attempted, this subject would not be an exemption. "Yes, Reigen-sensei."

The man nodded in acceptance and continued with taking attendance. The rest of the class tittered in the background as Teru settled down in his seat. He wasn't actually interested in the course material, this was simply a way for him to gain extra credits, to improve his standing among his peers. Literature, he mused. Personally, he didn't see the use in it. Shakespeare, Homer, Jane Austen... These people were all long dead. Would they at least talk about something that was at least more recent? Taking stock of the people around him, Teru didn't see anyone that stuck out in particular. A few pretty girls here and there, but...

He sighed, but smiled lazily a few of the girls he saw looking at him, smile widening when he saw them blush prettily. Ah, women. Such beautiful creatures.

"Kurata Tome?"

"Here!"

"Kageyama Shigeo?"

The silence in the room continued, Reigen-sensei looking expectantly at someone seated towards the back of the lecture theatre. Snickers and giggles filled the room as the lecturer silently palmed his face.

"Kageyama Shigeo?"

Teru craned his neck around to look. The loud noise had startled the day dreamer who unsteadily stood up and opened his mouth to respond. Teru could see the pink rise to the guy's cheeks and the gaping mouth. No sound left his open mouth however. Yikes. In the midst of all the laughter, the poor guy sat down again, eyes covered by black bangs. Reigen-sensei sighed, shaking his head with an exasperated sigh. "At least try to stay awake, Mob."

Mob? What a weird nickname.

And so the class continued and Teru continued his silent attempts at flirtations with the cute girls he spotted earlier.

–

Just as the class finished, the girls sashayed towards Teru, giggling daintily. One of them, obviously the ring leader, was pushed to the front. It was obvious what they wanted and Teru fished around his bag for a pen and a piece of paper. Grasping one, vaguely recognizing it as one of the pens his grandfather gave him, he pulled it out with a flourish.

"So, who's number can I have?"

Needless to say, he left with all of their phone numbers. He was so smug and distracted that he left the pen behind on the table, chatting with the group of girls around him and confidently strutting towards his next lecture.

However, perhaps thankfully, someone picked it up.

"What a beautiful fountain pen..."

–

Teru realized his mistake very late, just as he settled down to do his work.

Oh fuck.

He had lost one of the pens his grandfather gave him literally a day into his normal, daily routine.

Grandma is going to haunt me.

Scratch that, Gramps is going to fucking kill me.

His future murder looming over him like an angry shadow, Teru frantically searched through his bag. Finding one of the pens didn't take long, but the other was nowhere in sights. Ignoring his own rampant thoughts of his imminent death, he took a deep breath and for the first time, actually took a closer look at the remaining pen.

This one was a deep, dark ebony, with sleek lines and carvings that seemed to show the inner parts of the pen. It glistened in the light and Teru felt a pang at the loss of the other. What did it even look like? Cursing his own stupidity for once, he racked his brain for the last time and first time he'd used the pen.

His mind racing, his eyes scanned the room, looking for a possible resolution to this spectacular fuck up. The black writing on his ceiling seemed new, but it wouldn't help him now. Gazing back down at the pen in his hands, his brain suddenly shuddered to a halt.

Wait.

Writing.

On my ceiling?!

His head snapped upwards so fast, he swore he heard a bone crack. And there it was, proudly sprawled all over the corner of the ceiling, a beautiful mess of loping curls and swirls, as if someone was trying out the ink.

What the actual fuck.

Staring at the ink, Teru couldn't think of any reason as to why it would be there. Mind blank, he fetched the ladder and cleaning equipment, ready to remove the stain on his otherwise clean ceiling. Carefully stepping up the steps, he set to wiping the black curls off. Even as he continued to wipe, they refused to come off. As if possessed, Teru wiped again and again and why wouldn't this shitstain come off, what the everloving fuck.

It was not a good evening for Hanazawa Teruki.

Even as he scrubbed away furiously, more marks started to appear. Grunting in dissatisfaction and very clear annoyance, Teru stepped down the ladder, mind already set on getting the hammer, when he slipped and fell to the floor.

Loud and clear curses left his mouth, words that would have made his grandmother gasp and his grandfather laugh.

I swear to...

His thought trailed off as he looked at the ceiling from his position on the floor.

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

The words were written in a beautiful, loping cursive. The inky blackness of the words contrasted against the stark whiteness of his ceiling. Teru read the words, mouthing them and finally reading them out loud. They fell from his tongue with a slow caress, words dripping like honey. The words were beautiful and the surrealness of them appearing on his living room ceiling made them all the more special. Blankly staring at the words, it took but a moment for Teru to burst out in hysterical laughter.

–

On a mountain, exactly five hours train ride, a bus ride and a hike away, Teruki's grandfather sat before his wife's grave, reminiscing of the years past.

"Hm... I think I forgot something..."

–

As Teru finally managed to calm down, he adamantly refused to look at the spread of words across his ceiling. "Alright, time to call the old geezer. If that pen was haunted, he probably would know what to do." Grasping his phone tightly, he dialed the number and hoped to the heavens that the old man would actually answer this time and that the connection would hold.

"Hello ?", came the raspy voice.

"Yo Gramps."

"Ah Teruki, can I help you with something?"

Teru fidgeted, sweat collecting on his brow. It's now or never.

"I lost one of the pens you gave and now I think I'm haunted." His voice was even and calm, his own attempt at ignoring his blatant panic.

"What."

"Yep."

"Are you serious."

"Deadly."

The silence on the other end was foreboding and Teru gripped the phone even tighter, almost fearing for his life. He knew the old man could be scary when and if he wanted to be. His neighbors could attest to that.

The silence dragged for a few more moments before he heard a muffled laugh.

"Are you... actually laughing right now?"

Another muffled snicker. "Possibly."

"I could be in danger and you're now laughing at your only grandson."

More silence.

"You're a terrible role model."

"At least I'm not the one who lost a precious family heirloom."

Teru winced and conceded him that. He thought it was just normal pens though, not something that had been passed down generations.

"You didn't even mention that! I was using it during Uni to write stuff down!", Teru argued. His grandfather guffawed. "For simple work?!" His voice was loud and very impressive for a seventy year old man. "That pen is magic! Why would you ever use that for work?!"

"MAGIC?! What have you been smoking, you geezer?!"

"HAVE YOU NOT BEEN LISTENING TO WHAT I KEEP TELLING YOU ABOUT OUR FAMILY?"

The phone call escalated into a full on screaming match in a matter of moments. As Teru pressed the end call button on the screen, he heaved and massaged his temple. A major headache was in his future.

So. Magic Pens. My ancient family was supposedly a bunch of spies and used this to silently communicate over distances. And they don't use paper. Just the nearest fucking surface. And only the holder of the pen will see the writing. Are you shitting me?

Thus began Hanazawa Teruki's reluctant mission to regain his lost magical pen.