The Music Ghost
While eating breakfast, Luke waited quietly.
He was curious whether Ilsia would come to eat.
But the boy never appeared.
Did he skip the meal?
A child going hungry was a truly sad thing. Meals ought always to be taken at their proper time.
"Luke, what are you thinking so hard about?"
"There's a child I played music with last night… I was wondering whether he'd eaten."
"You played music? I didn't hear anything… Who was it?"
"You were sound asleep at the time. The child was a student named Ilsia."
"Ilsia? Is there someone like that in our year? Hmm, I don't know."
"Ah…"
Luke had deliberately avoided the subject of age, unwilling to call himself "ten," and so he couldn't learn the precise details. In this era, when entering the academy at ten was the norm, there would be no child younger than himself enrolled. Being treated like a child was far too embarrassing for him, after all.
Then Luke suddenly remembered that the color of Ilsia's neck-scarf brooch had been different. That color was teal. And teal was definitely…
"He seemed to be a third-year."
"Oh, a senior then. I might not know him."
Mary nodded. No matter how many friends she had or how well she got along with the other children, once the grade was different, points of contact nearly vanished. The classrooms used by each year were separated far apart to begin with, and the curriculum differed as well, so they rarely even crossed paths.
Mary thought hard for a while, then declared defeat as if she simply couldn't place the name.
"Oh, right. Come to think of it, what was that thing called again? A cello? I want to hear you play it, Luke!"
Luke had been planning to play anyway, so he nodded readily.
"Very well. Then let us go fetch the cello from the room."
"Yay!"
As the two of them headed toward the dormitory, a massive shadow fell across their path. Standing with her back to the light was a woman of about a hundred and seventy centimeters, dressed in athletic wear.
"Ah, Mary. You're early for a weekend."
Sturdy, long legs; small ears poking out through black, flowing hair; a brush-like tail sticking out over her pants; long, powerful thighs and a sharp impression. At a glance, she was clearly a horse beastkin.
"Amy unnie! Where are you going?"
"Just a light run to warm up. What about you, heading somewhere in your uniform?"
"We were just walking around. We just finished eating."
"Yeah? Want to run together later?"
"Nope! I've got something to do with my friend!"
"That so? Well, can't be helped then. Have fun."
"Okay, bye, unnie!"
As if Mary's farewell were a starting signal, the woman called Amy closed the distance in an instant and was already far away. Remarkably fast.
Luke watched the neatly braided horse tail fluttering behind her hips, then turned his head toward Mary. Mary shrugged her shoulders and said,
"She's a seventh-year on the track team. Horse beastkin, and super fast. She's even won first place at competitions."
"Track team?"
"Yep! I'm on the track team too. So my feet are pretty fast, you know."
Watching Mary bounce lightly on her feet, Luke nodded. Track team, was it. He himself wasn't particularly confident in running, but with physical enhancement magic like Haste and Enhance Body, plus Wind to reduce air resistance, there was no reason he couldn't match that speed.
But Luke shook his head. He simply didn't want to. It would be making fools of children who had pure-heartedly sweated and trained their bodies. There was no need to do it, and he shouldn't.
With that thought, he watched Amy's back, now almost a speck in the distance. Seeing Luke like that, Mary nodded as if she understood.
"So Luke's interested in that unnie's tail too? Well, you are a beastkin yourself."
"…That's not it."
"I could never groom mine like that, could I? What a shame."
Mary let out a sigh—ah, well. Tails, tails…
"Come to think of it, Luke. You're a mixed blood, right? I wonder what kind of tail a mixed blood would grow!"
"Haha… Who knows."
Luke smiled awkwardly. Beastkin typically had no tails in childhood. A beastkin's tail was a symbol of becoming complete as a beastkin. The source of their ability to transform into their true form—Beastification—was their tail. That was why so many nerves were concentrated there, and why it was treated as a weak point. In human terms, it was rather like secondary sexual characteristics.
Though after long ages of blood mixing among many races, beastification had become impossible, and now it was said to have become nothing more than a vestigial organ.
But will a tail grow on me as well?
Well, that was something he couldn't know. When he didn't even know his own origins, how could he judge?
Luke placed a hand on the base of his tailbone and muttered,
"Even if one does grow, I hope it won't be too inconvenient…"
"Luke, you're worrying over nothing!"
Mary snorted with laughter.
Having fetched the cello from his room and returned to the music club room, Luke played the pieces he had performed at dawn. Perhaps because it was morning, so utterly different in atmosphere, the same emotions from that night weren't present—but for a young child to listen to, it was more than good enough.
After finishing the performance, he felt a little bashful and looked at Mary. He asked lightly, with a touch of formality,
"Well then, how did the audience find the performance?"
Mary applauded and cheered as if it were only natural.
"It was so good! You're really amazing!"
"Haha. You flatter me."
Well, Mary would never offer harsh criticism, of course. But lately, hearing nothing but praise, he found himself uncertain first of all. Even in the past he had been a complete outsider to music, so he didn't really know whether he was actually any good. He simply played as the notes came to him, by virtue of his innate spirit affinity.
Of course, that produced ideal harmonies, so it wasn't unpleasant to hear—but as he played, questions arose. When the other person heard the melodies he was hearing, what emotions did they feel? There was no way to know directly. People all thought differently from one another. Just as words he found acceptable might not be so for the other person, music that sounded good to him might not sound good to someone else.
Mary genuinely thinks it was good, though.
This child already held goodwill toward him to begin with. Even if he had played a complete mess, she would have smiled happily. Well! It's okay if you're not great, she'd say. Once gained, feelings don't vanish easily. That was why first impressions mattered so much, and why first love was so poignant.
And so Luke thought of the concours Ilsia had mentioned. How would the judges, meeting him for the first time, regard this music? Curiosity stirred.
"What are you thinking so seriously about?"
"Ah, I was thinking about the concours. Whether I might be able to win a prize there."
"If it's you, Luke, you'll definitely win! That was really nice to listen to!"
"Is that so."
Well, it wasn't something he was particularly worried about, but receiving comfort still didn't feel bad. In a slightly lighter mood, Luke set down the cello.
"Going to rest now?"
"I suppose I should. I'm starting to feel tired."
Luke felt the aftereffects of staying up all night finally catching up to him. People really ought to sleep at night and live during the day… A child's stamina might seem infinite at a glance, but in truth it was not. The secret of that stamina was simply that they could maintain a steady level of energy almost until the very end.
Pressing at the fatigue gathering around his eyes, he collected himself. Perhaps a short nap would be good.
"Mary, I'm sorry, but… I'd like to go back to the dormitory and rest. Could you put me to bed for a while?"
"You're sleepy, huh. Oh right, you said you stayed up the whole night. Sorry I fell asleep first…"
"It's fine. Yawn… Now then, let's go back and rest."
"Yeah! Let's go rest!"
Shouldering the cello, Luke thought, Ilsia is nowhere to be seen. Was he tired from practicing all night?
Mary said something about exercising with her track-team unnie or other.
Luke asked to be woken when lunchtime came, then closed his eyes in Mary's room. The excessively soft bed seemed to forcibly drag his eyelids down. The intermittent birdsong and the chatter of children would normally have been bothersome distractions, but with a moderate fatigue layered on top, they were little different from any other lullaby.
And so Luke fell asleep in no time at all. In the quiet room, only Luke's regular breathing could be heard.
Leisure. That atmosphere, reminiscent of a calm lakeside, grew tumultuous as if a single flung pebble had sent great ripples across the water.
Clatter-bang!
"Luke, wake up right now! Breaking news, breaking news!!"
Shake-shake—Mary shook Luke vigorously, meaning he was to wake up this instant. Of course, Luke woke.
"Ah, Mary. What on earth is the matter."
This feels rather like standing night watch…
Yawning under unresolved fatigue, he found Mary's face, gone completely white, weighing on his mind. It was the expression of someone who had seen something she shouldn't have.
"There's a ghost in the music club room, for real!"
"A ghost? What are you talking about?"
"Hurry and follow me!"
"All of a sudden like this…"
Even as he was pulled along in confusion, Luke worked his mind. He could feel his thinking capacity declining from fatigue, but that was fine. He had thought under conditions like this plenty of times in the past.
A ghost? Is she talking about ghost-type monsters? Banshees or wraiths? Well, I don't think hostile spirit-type monsters of that sort would exist in the middle of a city like this in this era…
But if that were the case, it would certainly be a serious matter. Luke weakly rotated the circle in his chest, preparing to fire magic at any moment. Whatever it was, if it was dangerous, he would eliminate it without hesitation.
As they approached the music club room, they could see a great many children gathered and murmuring. From inside the club room, rather cheerful music was being played on the piano. Was someone performing?
But when Luke and Mary excused themselves and pushed through the crowd, the scene that revealed itself was different from what he had expected.
"Look, that piano is playing all by itself! That has to be the music room ghost…!"
"Ah. That is…"
Luke approached the piano as if entranced.
"Luke, what are you doing, it's dangerous! It's a ghost! You might get cursed…! Someone already went to call the security guard, so if you get close…"
Mary hissed in a suppressed shout. But Luke paid no mind and approached the piano, whispering,
"Pai, what on earth are you doing…!"
—Roo-kee…!
"This isn't the least bit amusing…! Stop the pranks! The other children are frightened!"
—…
Imitating a mournful violin sound, Pai drooped and floated over to Luke's side. Meaning she would stop now, no doubt.
Luke let out a long sigh and turned around.
"…?"
But when he turned, countless gazes were directed at him… Luke suddenly realized he had made a mistake.
"Ah, this wasn't a ghost—it was a spirit."
When Luke opened his mouth and broke the silence, Mary muttered in fits and starts.
"You… exorcised the ghost…?"
"No, look, this wasn't a ghost but a spirit…"
Luke tried to explain, but no one was listening.
"Spirits don't exist in this world!"
"What?"
Luke was struck by a shock as if he'd been hit over the head by those words.
"What do you mean spirits don't exist—well…"
Luke looked at Pai. Pai looked at Luke.
—…?
Pai floated up slightly then settled, as if shrugging her shoulders with a sheepish expression that said she didn't really know.
Could it be that spirits aren't merely visible only to me—that their very existence is unknown…?
Yerna lied to me.
"What did you just say to drive it off? Tell me too."
"Hey, you've got a talent for ghostbusting!"
"A piano that plays by itself, ugh. So creepy."
"Pfft. Then I guess magic pianos would scare you too."
"You wanna die?"
Amid the boisterous atmosphere, Luke had become a complete outsider. Fatigue washed over him, and his head began to ache.