Chapter 3: A Room I Shouldn't Know

I wanted to ask someone about the portrait, but I didn't know if it was okay to ask. If I really was the "fourth person," then everyone in this house might be looking at me like a pathetic sacrifice. Thinking about that made me afraid to even leave my room.

Still, nothing would change if I just stayed holed up inside. I put the portrait back in its box and bravely left the room.

The corridor in the Midoji house seemed to stretch on forever. Turning left led to the library, and turning right led to the greenhouse. No one had told me where to go, yet my feet moved without hesitation.

It's strange. I only arrived in this house yesterday. Yet, it's as if I've walked this route countless times; I know exactly what's around the next corner.

I tried walking with my eyes closed. After a few steps, I stretched out my right hand. My fingertips touched an old wooden door.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a small, dusty room that looked like no one had ever used it. Thick curtains hung over the window, and an old piano sat in the center.

"nostalgic"

I was surprised by the words that slipped out of my mouth. There was no way I could feel nostalgic. This was supposed to be the first time I'd ever been in this room.

I gently touched the piano keys, and my fingers moved on their own. A simple melody echoed in the dusty room. I'd never even been taught how to play.

"So you were there?"

I was startled by the voice that came from behind me, and I jumped. When I turned around, Ryo was standing in the doorway. He looked at my hands and the now silent piano, and his expression hardened slightly.

"Where did you learn that song?"

"I don't know. My fingers just moved on their own."

Ryo slowly entered the room. He approached the piano and slid his fingers across the keys. He, too, played the same melody. The exact same melody, without a single difference.

"This song is one I wrote for someone over a hundred years ago."

A chill ran down my spine.

"I've never taught it to anyone. I don't even have the sheet music. It's a song that only exists in my memory."

"Then why me?"

Ryo didn't say anything more. He just stared at me with a complex expression. He seemed scared, yet also expecting something.

"I hadn't heard anything about this room from anyone. Yet, I was able to come here without getting lost. It was as if I knew from the beginning that there was a library at the end of the corridor, and that the greenhouse was to the right."

"Riko"

It was the first time I'd ever been called by my name. For some reason, the sound of it stirred something deep inside me.

"I'm sorry I scared you. But let me tell you this: no matter what memories you have, you are the one who decides who you are."

The words were kind. But at the same time, I felt like I was being brushed off.

"Ryo, you know something about me, don't you?"

"I can't talk about it yet."

It was the same words again. Ever since the first time we met, he's always repeated, "I can't talk about it right now." Each time, my frustration gradually built up.

As Ryo was about to leave the room, I instinctively called out to him.

"Will the day ever come when you'll tell me?"

Ryo stopped walking. Without looking back, he muttered softly.

"If you're still alive, that is."

Leaving those words behind, he left the room. Alone in the dusty room, I stared at my palms. My fingers remembered a melody I shouldn't have known how to play. I arrived back in the room without hesitation.

There's a part of me I don't know existed.

That fact made me more anxious than anything that had ever happened before.