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The crisp scent of book pages, the delicate golden lights that matched his golden hair, and the bookshelves that touched the ceiling.
The university’s library wasn’t like any other. The architecture made it feel as if he slipped through a history book on ancient Greece—the grand, intricately carved Ionic pillars, the frieze depicting different historical characters in Greek mythology that ran along the wall, and the glorious chandelier hanging in the middle of the room.
To Tsukasa, this was home.
Home … The word swirled in his head. He fished out his notebook and pen and listed similar words from memory.
Haven. Shelter. Sanctuary.
Yes, he thought with a smile, closing the notebook. This fits well. Perusing the stacks of books, he couldn’t feel any more at peace. Maybe he could convince Saki to open a bookstore with him in the future… No! Focus! He mentally chastised himself, lightly hitting his head. Now was not the time for dilly-dallying, for he came here for one thing only.
But, as his vision flickered around the room in awe, he decided it wouldn’t be so bad to stall for only a handful of minutes, right? He wasn’t truly in a rush.
He made a beeline for the Plays & Scripts section. If he blindfolded himself, he doubts he’d have trouble navigating it. He ran his finger across the spines as if he were frolicking in an open field. Every book that lined the shelf, he recognized. From the full works of Shakespeare to Wilde, he knew them and could recall lines from heart.
As a proud literature student, he held himself in high regard for being so well-read. Sure, others would call him ‘pretentious’ or possibly ‘elitist’, but he believed there to be no harm in regarding himself smarter than a common person.
Right?
A pause. He stilled on an unrecognizable book. One without a title on its spine. Just pure, brown leather. It was rather thick, unlike a paper-thin book, which couldn’t fit its credentials on the side. In curiosity, he retrieved it, thinking he’d find the information on the cover. But all he was met with was a blank slate.
Strange, he thought. Cracking it open, he found pages and pages full of printed text. Yet, there was no title page or author name to be found, no copyright page or notes. The strangest, though, was a sole dedication page in the front matter. It read,
To a young soul gone too soon,
May you be remembered between these pages.
His phone vibrated in his pocket—a preset alarm to ensure he didn’t surely lose himself in the library like a kid in a candy store. Tsukasa humphed and silenced it. Guess he’d have to check the book out to read later.
Striding to the librarian’s desk, he handed over a flash drive. “I’d like these files printed.”
The librarian sighed and plugged it into her computer. The printer behind her lit up, coughing out mechanical noises as it spat his papers out.
While the architecture was above standard, the technology evidently wasn’t.
“I also wish to check this book out,” Tsukasa said as he placed the blank book on the desk.
She blinked as she brought his papers. Taking off her glasses, she wiped them with the sleeve of her sweater before putting them back on. She flipped through the book with a similar expression of confusion that Tsukasa probably had earlier. She stared at him, brow furrowed in slight irritation. “This isn’t ours. If you wish to take it, then take it.”
Shocked and sensing her patience wearing thin, he nodded and took all his items and scurried away. Outside, the sun peeked over the University’s East Building, draping light over the open park, wedged in the heart of campus.
Tsukasa welcomed the fresh air and subtle chatter of the students scattered around. It was a good day, he could tell. He had no classes scheduled for today, completed all his necessary work, and could finally relax. Considering his usual booked schedule, this was uncommon.
He headed for the dormitory, hoping to solve the damn mystery of this anonymous book.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Retiring in his dorm room, Tsukasa drew out a sigh as he shut the door behind him. Inside, a neat collection of books lined the walls. The floor sparkled, and the typical mess of clothes or trash one’d see in a dorm room was nonexistent. Even his bed is made, which, compared to the other rooms he’s visited, is a surprising rarity. It’s not even that much effort!
In the center rested his grand piano, a sleek black against the browns, swathed in layers of dust. He sniffed the artificiality of ‘Sakura Bloom’ from his automatic scent sprayer, his shoulders losing tension as he relaxed on his couch. He set the book and papers on the coffee table, but focused on studying the book. Nothing changed, no matter how much she squinted.
He pondered. Who would leave such an unassuming yet suspicious book behind? Anyone else could’ve found this. But Tsukasa found it first, took it home, and now it’s his cross to bear. …Or so to speak.
“Alright!” He announced to the empty room as he cradled it in his arms.. “I shall take another look!”
Flipping open the first page, he was greeted by a burst of light. He shrieked as the flash filled his vision. What in the world was that? Never in his twenty years of living had he ever been blinded by a book! The audacity.
He blinked until he returned to the world. A low howl hummed through the room. The lights blew out, and a strange, eerie glow spilled around his feet, emanating from…
The book.
And there, floating above the open pages, was a girl with a wolf’s grin.
“GAH!” Tsukasa startled before the book slipped. He hits the floor and curls in a fetal position, tightening his eyes like a spooked toddler.
“You can see me?” The spirit asked, gasping. What? OF COURSE HE CAN!
Tsukasa rushed for the book. “Wait, no!” The spirit pleaded before the book shut, closing her back inside.
…
He tentatively opened his eyes. “H-Hello?” He called out, searching around for the ghost. Nothing. He slowly found his footing, body stiff as a board.
The book sat on the floor, unmoving. Tsukasa observed, afraid any movement might summon her again. But, surely, that was only a hallucination…? Sleepiness pulled at his eyelids, weariness heavy in his limbs, so surely he was only imagining it!
He recalled ghosts he’s read of in novels before—of vengeful spirits, like in Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher or du Maurier’s Rebecca. But this… the one he found didn’t strike as, in any sense, harmful. More so childish.
She had pink hair like cotton candy, sparkling eyes like gemstones, and skin as fair as silk. She appeared to be his age, too. The real question was how she was infused with this book, and why hadn’t she emerged earlier?
His curiosity overpowers his fear. Bending down, he raised the book and cracked it awake.
“Hold on! Don’t close it, please—” Thud.
No. Never again.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Days had passed, none of them without a moment he didn’t remember the book. It sat on his bedside table as if waiting patiently. He knew, at some point, he would open it again, but whenever he considered it, his skin laced with goosebumps.
But this wasn’t a matter he had the time for. He had a dissertation, four essays, and midterms to worry about. He only hoped to make it out alive.
A yawn freed itself from him after he made his bed. In his head, he had begun planning out the rest of his day—first, a good, warm shower, then he’d pick out a deliberately campy outfit to wear to the café where he’d do his work and hopefully make flashcards to study.
Halfway through the door, he stopped, hearing a light thud. He turned, nothing out of place. Weird, but could’ve been from the room above. Now resolute for another great day, he turned again and—
“WAIT!”
He screeched like nails on a chalkboard. Even the voice yelped at it. He faced his bedroom, finding the ghost… right before him! Before they could say more, Tsukasa felt his thoughts evaporate, and he hit the ground, fainting.
-
A soft, yet frigid finger poked at his cheek as Tsukasa came to his senses. His vision cleared, and he found her dropped to her knees by his side. He sprang up, screaming as he backed himself into the corner, shielding his face as if it would do anything. “S-Stay back!” He warned. “Don’t take another step!”
“Sorry…!” She said, shuffling to the opposite corner, eyes glossy as if she could cry. “I was just checking if you were alive!”
…would’ve been ironic, no? To become a ghost, due to a ghost. How awkward.
Yet, as he lowered his arms and observed her from afar, he sensed no malice. In fact, she was quivering an earthquake’s worth.
He resolved to approach her, hesitant and with hands outstretched, as if he were trying to pet a stray cat. He stopped a few feet from her, kneeling to meet her gaze. “Look,” he said, “it appears we got on the wrong foot. Let’s formally introduce ourselves, yes?”
She glanced at him, eyes still gleaming. How pretty she was even after death, he thought. She nodded. Tsukasa berated himself mentally for spooking such a pretty girl. “Great,” he started, showing a placid smile he reserved for calming bawling children. “I’m Tsukasa Tenma. I study literature here, at this university.” He presented a hand for her to shake.
Carefully, she took it, and they shook. “I’m… Emu Otori. I used to attend here too.”
“Really?” He perked a brow as they retracted. “An alumnus?”
A somber shadow veiled her face. “No. I never got to graduate.”
“Ah.” He grimaced, chastising himself for assuming. “My condolences.”
He switched the question, hoping to lighten the mood. “So… Do you like tea?”
Emu blinked. She nodded.
With a courteous nod and relieved breath, Tsukasa led her to his kitchenette. He pulled the curtains over, early morning light spilling in and adorning the room. As she took a seat at his table, he sifted through his cabinets, pulling out his tea bag collection. Because, of course, he has one. While he set it on the counter, he made a revelation. “Wait, can you even taste things…? Let alone consume ?” He asked.
“I can, somewhat.” She giggled. “Don’t worry. I’ve trained myself.”
He sighed again in relief and continued, filling a kettle and planting it on the stove. “So, which do you prefer?”
“Chamomile,” she answered in almost an instant.
“Then it is chamomile you shall have!” He let out a boisterous laugh as he picked up a bag of chamomile tea.
When the kettle whistled, Tsukasa prepared two cups and poured the water, dropping in the bags of chamomile. At the table, he gave Emu a cup, then sat opposite her. “This is… quite the start to my morning.”
“Sorry again.” She fidgets in her seat, embarrassed. “I was waiting for someone to find me.”
His posture straightened. “And I guess it happened to be me.”
“It is so.” She giggled.
“If I may ask,” he began, “why were you inside a book?”
Her shoulders deflated, her expression breaking. Tsukasa regrets it immediately. Gah! Why am I so careless?! He slumped into his chair, slapping his forehead.
“Ah! No, no, no, don’t worry!” She reapplied her cheeriness. “I’ve long since gotten over it. I just get a bit sad sometimes, is all.” She lifted her cup to her lips, lightly blowing on it before taking a light sip. Tsukasa couldn’t help but fixate on her mouth before catching himself. He took a drink too to hide it.
“What great chamomile you have, I must add,” she said. “I’d go as far as to say it’s in my top three.”
“I… Thank you.”
“Back to the topic—the book you have is a novel I wrote myself. I finished the first draft of it in my final semester, but… I was involved in an accident. Yet, somehow, my soul became infused into the manuscript.” She eyed the book in the other room. “I’m not sure how it ended up leatherbound, though.”
“I see,” Tsukasa hummed. “You must’ve done a lot of travelling.”
“Oh, yes. And I’ve somehow ended up back here, where it all started. Or… ended, to put bleakly.”
“You know,” she said as she stood up, cup in hand, nearing the window, “for long, I’ve been hoping to reach any semblance of heaven.
“Yet, by the millennium, my hopes have since passed.”
“Heaven, you say?” Tsukasa asked, joining her side. The two peered out the window to the open sky, not a cloud in sight.
“In the traditional sense, yes. That heaven.”
Tsukasa turned to his shelf and sifted through his books. Emu stood beside him, humming. “What are you looking for?” She asked.
“Heaven.”
“Wait, what—”
“N-No, it’s a novel.” He sighed. “By Mieko Kawakami.” He retrieved the book and showed it to her.
“To summarize, it’s about a schoolboy who is abused and tortured by his bullies to extreme lengths,” He said as he took another sip. “He soon makes a friend who shares similar suffering, and she takes him to an art gallery. There, they find a painting titularly named ‘ Heaven ’.”
He recalled reading it, picnic blanket splayed under him as he took in the warm afternoon sun. Though this wasn’t the material he needed to study for his course, he found no harm in reading for leisure. Leisure, for him, having bit of a different meaning than others.
“Where are you taking this?” She asked, focused on watching the sky.
He moved to the counter and leaned on it. “Will get there in a moment.” He discarded the used tea bag, refilled his cup, and added a new one. “So, this painting is beauty and escape, and he keeps a postcard of it in his bedroom. He thinks of it as a separate place, far from the pain he fights daily, somewhere unreachable.
“Though his friend, Kojima, believes the path of Heaven to be full of suffering, to reach redemption. Whilst the narrator sees it as an escape without pain, even if it may not be real.”
Emu finished her cup, then faced Tsukasa. “Right.”
He smiled. “I like the idea of it—another place, away from my troubles.” With a deep sigh, his smile shrank. “But, I don’t agree with either of their views. Even if I were to reach Heaven, the pain would still follow me, clinging to me like water does to cloth. To suffer is to be human, after all.”
“I never thought of it like that,” she said. “I always thought it was a straightforward path. You die, and you’re in Heaven, free from mortal pain. Yet… Seeing as I’m still here, I doubt such things as heaven or hell exist. But I haven’t crossed paths with other spirits.”
“Then, maybe you’re tied to the mortal plane because there’s something you’ve yet to fulfill? Some past regret?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ve lived a fulfilling enough life. I had good relationships, no enemies, and a bright future ahead. The only thing is…”
“You hadn’t completed it.”
“Maybe. If it’s that, then I’m stuck here forever.”
They stood in silence.
For a short moment, Tsukasa remembered he had priorities he needed to attend to, too lost in conversation with a damned ghost. “Ah! I completely forgot I have to work on my coursework! I haven’t even showered yet! Excuse me!” He bolted off, and a laugh from Emu followed.
“I’ll be here, then. Waiting.” Though he couldn’t hear her, she said so anyway, wondering why he could see and hear her.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The night was darkening around Tsukasa. Streetlamps produced weak glows, overwhelmed by the surrounding shadows. He didn’t think he would lose track of time so easily—he swore he had a good sense of time. It could be due to how much was wracking his mind, from academics to a literal ghost, but regardless, it was getting late. Even the barista was looking at him impatiently. It was time to leave before the staff kicked him out.
He packed his things with despair, already too used to the calm environment and strong smell of coffee he found pleasure in. Outside, his gaze gravitated to the black sky and found the scatter of stars above. His mouth curved on instinct. The comfort of stars stuck with him throughout childhood—how he’d stay awake late nights at home when Saki was in the hospital. His company became the stars outside his window, as if they were his best friends, who knew all his secrets, seen every version of him.
After walking for a few minutes, he reached his dorm room. Before he entered, he wondered if Emu had already left by then, or if she was still there. Thinking on it harder… was she rifling through his stuff?
Not like I have anything to hide! He defended himself to the imaginary audience in his head. But it’s… embarrassing!
It didn’t take long for him to find Emu studying the papers he printed in the library. “I’m back. Could you put those down?” He didn’t want to scare her, so he settled for a tired, slightly annoyed tone.
Emu pretended not to hear him as he shut the door. He dropped his bag and joined her on the couch, fatigued.
“Claire de Lune, huh?” She questioned as she picked out the said piece. “This one’s my favorite.”
He shifted in his seat. This was not what he wanted to be greeted with after a long day of work. “Is that so?”
“Mhm. Some years ago, I was walking the streets of Japan. I was lost, but I came across such wonderful scenery. Tokyo, I believe.” She got up and paced the room as if reimagining it. “I was passing through a neighborhood, night filling the sky. Until I heard the familiar notes coming from a random house. I couldn’t see inside and respected others’ privacy, so I stood outside and listened.”
She drew near the piano, closing her eyes in remembrance. “I’ve travelled the streets of countless European countries, heard a wide range of musicians, yet this one person… They captivated me with such ease.” She ran her finger along the piano’s lid and exclaimed as she withdrew it. “Y-Your piano is… considerably dusty.”
Tsukasa folded his hands in his lap, biting on his bottom lip. “I haven’t played in a while. I’m rusty.”
“Oh.” Emu noticed his droop in posture and decided she shouldn’t push the subject. “I’d love to hear you play sometime, though.”
Tsukasa contemplated it. Something was compelling him to play. Even if the last thing he wanted was to sit before a piano again, there existed a certain ache, begging. He wanted to prove himself. So he rose and said, “No, I can play.”
Her eyes widened as he sat, blowing the dust from the keys. “Are you sure?” asked Emu. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s fine. I should .” He gestured to the music sheets. “Could you kindly fetch it? Please?”
She went into action, phasing through the piano and grabbing the papers with some difficulty, and helped him set it on the piano.
His fingers curled upon the keys, a sensation so familiar to him. He remembered the nights both lonely and warm, when Saki listened to him play, or when he played regardless, alone in the living room with but the stars as his sole witness.
Emu perched next to him, watching him with a gleaming squint, smiling ever so softly. “Take your time,” she said.
He returned the smile, then faced the piano keys. All eighty-eight of them, sparkling under the overhead light, almost smirking at him. Beckoning. Teasing. Like an old friend welcoming him back to their childhood town.
Biding time, he fixed the music sheets until they were perfectly straight. Then, he ran his hand across the keys to check their sound. His heart thumped in rapid staccato, fingers twitching in a similar pattern. Yet, the melody remained. He had to play, though nothing was forcing him to. One last time, he glanced at Emu, and she gave him a reassuring, honeylike grin. How he wished to drink her presence in, savoring it like the finest wine.
He gazed at the ceiling as if peering into the night sky, imagining the sprinkle of white little stars drowning against a black sea. How tiny they seemed from here, yet how bright they must be to be seen at such a distance. He took a breath, knees hugged tight.
And then, he let go.
He pressed down on the keys, gently, carefully. Gliding across the keyboard, he let melody pour in each note like falling snow. The tender song wafted throughout the room, replacing air. Emu hummed quietly, sparkling like glitter.
It was dreamlike, intimate even, the way he played. Tsukasa didn’t need to flip the pages, letting his muscle memory guide him through the entire piece while Emu listened tranquilly. When the song ended, she gave a smattering of applause. “Quite beautiful for someone who calls himself rusty,” she said. “That’s exactly how I remembered it, the same serenity I once heard. It’s as if… no, it can’t be.”
“What is it?” He asked, turning to her.
“It was you that night.” She gestured for him to make space for her on the seat. He obliged.
Emu stared at the keys, turning melancholic like a wilting flower. “What a small world.”
“Well, I’m glad you were able to find me again.”
Deafening silence replaced the fleeting melody. Emu could hear the rapid pace of his heart and saw his cheeks dusted in a rosy pink. She knew the emotion well—saw it in the couples on the street, high schoolers confessing to their crushes, in all the media she had consumed.
Love.
For once in her entire afterlife, someone had fallen in love with her. She didn’t know what made this boy so special to her. Divine connection? She would never know.
She changes topics, looking elsewhere. “If I may ask… why did you stop playing piano?”
The mention triggers it all. The days he’d sit still at the piano and imagine his sister playing it for him. How much shame he felt in even attempting to try again. So it sat there, collecting dust.
He never told Saki—didn’t want to trouble her any further, wanted to be the reliable older brother. He was glad he could tell someone.
“I used to play for my sister. She was in and out of the hospital, and the only comfort became this piano and… the stars. They watched me play when no one else could.
“Then, I grew up. I was cut between two choices—attend my dream university abroad and leave my sister behind, or stay and live with regret. Even she pushed me to go. It’s clear which I chose.”
“You sound like a great older brother.”
He gave a half-hearted laugh. “If you think so.”
He clicked his tongue while resting his cheek on a closed fist. “This piano, they shipped it from home. It’s been years since, and I couldn’t get myself to play it.” He glanced at his free hand. “The other day, my sister told me how well her band’s been doing, and I… I thought I should at least try.”
“That’s admirable of you.”
“You think?”
“Of course. I’m sure your sister would love to hear you play again.”
Her lips parted as if she had an epiphany. “I shouldn’t bother you anymore, it’s clear I’m only troubling you further. If you ever need me, just open the book, but you’re free to donate it somewhere. I’ll be off, now.” She got on her feet and began to move away.
“Wait!” He called out, causing her to stop. “You can live with me as my roommate.”
She thinks back to all the lives she’s watched before, all she’s lost. Yet, she wonders if this could be different. He’s the first in forever to love her, to see her. Maybe…
“Are you sure?” She asked, twisting a strand of hair to hide her flushed cheeks.
He approached and held her cold hand, kissing the back. “I wish to play for you every night, if you’d like. Your company is most enjoyable.”
She giggled and lightly shoved him away. “I’m not forcing you to, but… I wouldn’t hate it.”
“I insist! For someone as beautiful as you, it would be my pleasure to.”
As they laughed the night away, Tsukasa was figuring out how to make the arrangements for a… not-so-corporeal roommate. Especially since his dorm was meant for one. Where would she sleep? Does she even need to sleep? Certainly not on the couch, if so! His bed…
He shook the thought away. That was a problem for tomorrow. For now, he’d like to stay within her presence, in her laugh so warm despite how cold she felt.