The figure stood in the corner of the room.
Its face was hidden as its head was bowed and its body faced the wall. It wore a shabby blue janitor's uniform. Beside the figure was a cluttered tool cabinet filled with old, seemingly random items -- mops, brooms, folders, papers, and electrical tools. Wires dangled from the ceiling without any apparent purpose, hanging like the aerial roots of a banyan tree, untidy and neglected.
This is what Ranu Inten told his colleague Saban that afternoon.
"Are you serious, Ran? In that unused corner room?" Saban responded, visibly surprised.
Saban's reaction was not without reason.
Ranu Inten, who had been working at the company for four years, was known as the most honest person in the world -- maybe even the universe. It was almost impossible for Ranu Inten to lie intentionally, let alone deceive others for fun, jokes, or, heaven forbid, malicious intent.
Saban stared intensely at Ranu Inten, his eyes wide, trying to scrutinize his friend's face for any signs of deceit. And indeed, Saban's efforts paid off. He could see the serious expression on Ranu Inten's face. His features were tense, a mix of fear, worry, and earnestness. There was no way not to take him seriously.
After being questioned and scrutinized so closely, Ranu Inten gave a small nod. But that was enough to make Saban believe him, prompting a long, drawn-out sigh from Saban.
"Maybe it was just a janitor, Ran," Saban tried to rationalize the story.
"I hope so, Ban. I hope what I saw was just a person, an employee here, or maybe I was mistaken," Ranu Inten replied.