Eclipsed: Echoes of a Forgotten Melody

Chapter Seven: Shadows in the Silence

The silence that followed Mai's revelation was suffocating, as though the very air around them had turned thick and oppressive. Ishikawa stared at her, the words hanging between them like a razor's edge, sharp and dangerous.

"I think it was you, Ishikawa."

He blinked, his mind racing, heart thudding in his chest. The absurdity of it struck him first—how could it have been him? He hadn't even known Seito. But as he searched Mai's eyes, he saw no hint of jest, no hesitation. She meant what she had said.

"What... what are you talking about?" Ishikawa's voice trembled, more from confusion than fear. "I wasn't even there. How could I have betrayed him?"

Mai stood silently, her eyes darkened with something close to sorrow. She moved closer to him, her footsteps soft against the wooden floor. When she spoke again, her voice was measured, almost gentle.

"Not directly. Not in the way you're thinking," she said, her gaze holding his. "But I believe Seito's spirit is tied to you in a way we don't fully understand yet. Ever since you began playing his music, ever since you sat at that piano... I think he's been trying to communicate something. Something about his betrayal, about what happened in those final days."

Ishikawa shook his head, confusion clawing at his thoughts. The idea was impossible, wasn't it? He wasn't a part of Seito's life. He wasn't connected to any of this before he found the piano. But Mai's words had stirred something deep within him—something he had tried to ignore, a feeling that had been growing ever since he first touched those keys.

"Ishikawa," she continued, her voice softening, "what if you are a reincarnation of Seito? Or at least, what if part of his soul has found its way into you? That would explain why his music feels so natural to you, why the memories of his life are becoming more vivid."

The words hit him like a tidal wave, crashing over his mind. Reincarnation? The very idea seemed too fantastical, too absurd, yet...

He thought back to the first time he had sat at the piano, to the way the music had flowed through him as if it were already a part of him. And the visions—those fragmented memories that weren't his own, yet felt like they belonged to him. It was as if Seito's emotions, his very essence, had imprinted itself on Ishikawa.

"No," Ishikawa finally said, shaking his head in denial. "That can't be true. I'm not Seito. I've never even met him. This... this doesn't make any sense."

Mai's gaze softened with understanding, but her resolve didn't waver. "I know it sounds impossible, but think about everything that's happened. The music, the dreams, the way Seito's story is unfolding through you. Maybe you weren't part of his life directly, but something inside you is connected to him, and it's unraveling now."

Ishikawa's mind reeled as he tried to comprehend the enormity of her suggestion. Could it be possible? Could Seito's spirit—or some fragment of it—have found its way into him? But even if that were true, why? Why him? And why now?

He stumbled back, turning away from Mai as his thoughts spiraled into chaos. The weight of everything—his growing obsession with Seito's music, the strange connection he felt to the piano, the deep sorrow that seemed to echo through him—it all suddenly felt unbearable.

"I don't understand," he whispered, running a hand through his hair. "Why is this happening to me? I didn't ask for any of this. I just wanted to play the piano."

Mai remained silent, her eyes watching him with quiet empathy. She understood the turmoil that was ripping through him—understood the fear that came with realizing that your life might not be entirely your own.