Eclipsed: Echoes of a Forgotten Melody

Chapter Eighteen: Shadows of the Unseen

The days that followed were a haze of tension and quiet desperation for Ishikawa. The weight of their discovery about Seito bore down on him, but the world around him seemed oblivious, moving forward as if nothing had changed. Yet everything had changed, and the piano, once a refuge of harmony, now felt like a beacon of guilt, drawing him deeper into the mystery.

He couldn't look at the instrument the same way anymore. Each key, every note that had once brought him joy now felt like a haunting reminder of Seito's fate. Ishikawa spent hours at the piano, but the melodies that came out of him were somber, filled with unresolved chords and lingering notes that hovered in the air like unanswered questions.

The days stretched into weeks, but the trio—Mai, Takumi, and Ishikawa—were no closer to exposing the truth. The administration seemed untouched by their investigation, and with every step they took forward, it felt as though invisible forces were pushing them back.

One evening, as dusk fell, Ishikawa sat alone in the music hall. The air was still, the silence broken only by the distant hum of city life beyond the walls of the university. He had stayed behind after practice, telling Takumi and Mai he needed time to think. In reality, he wasn't sure what he was waiting for. A sign, maybe. A breakthrough. Anything to make sense of the chaos swirling around him.

He rested his hands on the keys, playing the first few bars of a familiar piece, but the music felt hollow. His fingers stumbled, and he stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh. How had it all come to this? The music that had once been his passion now felt like a burden.

As his thoughts spiraled, the door to the hall creaked open. He looked up, half-expecting to see Mai or Takumi, but it wasn't either of them. A woman stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the fading light from the corridor.

"Ishikawa?" Her voice was soft, yet firm.

He blinked, his heart skipping a beat. He recognized her—Professor Yukawa, the university's head of music studies. She had always been somewhat distant, rarely interacting with students beyond lectures, but there was something about her presence tonight that felt different. More intense.

"I heard you've been spending a lot of time here," she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She walked towards him, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor. "I also heard you've been asking a lot of questions."

Ishikawa swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "I—uh, I just... I've been trying to—"

"Don't." She raised a hand, cutting him off. "Don't lie to me."

He felt the weight of her gaze settle on him, sharp and piercing. She wasn't angry, but there was something in her eyes—something knowing. For a moment, Ishikawa felt exposed, as if she could see right through him, straight into his thoughts.

"You've found out about Seito, haven't you?" she asked, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper.

Ishikawa tensed, his mind racing. How did she know? And more importantly, how much did she know?

"You don't need to answer that," Yukawa continued, walking over to the piano and resting a hand on its polished surface. "I know you've been digging. I know you've been playing this piano, hoping it would give you answers."

Ishikawa's heart pounded in his chest. He had no idea where this conversation was going, but every instinct told him to be cautious.

"What... what do you know about Seito?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Professor Yukawa's eyes darkened, her fingers tracing the edge of the piano. "Seito was one of the most talented students this university had ever seen. His gift for music was extraordinary. But it wasn't just his talent that made him special. There was something... unique about the way he connected with the piano."

Ishikawa frowned. "What do you mean?"

Yukawa glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "The university recognized Seito's potential early on. They saw something in him, something beyond just musical ability. It was as if the music itself flowed through him in ways we couldn't understand. But... that kind of power comes at a cost."

Ishikawa's pulse quickened. This was it. This was the piece of the puzzle they had been missing. "What cost?"

Yukawa sighed, looking away for a moment before answering. "The university wasn't just interested in Seito's music. They wanted to study him, to understand how he could create such profound connections with the piano. They pushed him further and further, demanding more from him, until... well, until it broke him."

Her words hung in the air like a cloud of smoke, suffocating and heavy.

Ishikawa felt a chill run down his spine. "They drove him to it," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Professor Yukawa's eyes flickered with a mix of sadness and resignation. "Yes. They pushed him beyond his limits. And when he couldn't take it anymore, they erased him. They covered it up, made it look like an accident—or worse, a suicide."

Ishikawa's fists clenched, anger rising in his chest. "How could they do that? How could they just erase him like that?"

Yukawa shook her head, her expression somber. "The university is more powerful than you realize, Ishikawa. They control everything—what people know, what they don't know, and what's buried in the shadows."

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the weight of the truth pressing down on them both. Ishikawa felt sick. Everything he had believed in—the university, the music, his own future—was tainted by the darkness that had consumed Seito.

"I want to expose them," he said quietly, his voice filled with resolve. "I want to make sure everyone knows what they did to Seito."

Professor Yukawa looked at him, her eyes filled with an emotion he couldn't quite place. "Be careful, Ishikawa. If you go down this path, there's no turning back. The university won't let you just walk away."

Ishikawa met her gaze, his jaw set in determination. "I don't care. They can't keep hiding this forever."

Yukawa studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "If that's what you want... then I'll help you."

The following days were a blur of clandestine meetings, coded messages, and hidden plans. Yukawa had access to files that Ishikawa and Takumi could only dream of, and with her help, they began piecing together the full scope of the university's involvement in Seito's death.

But as they delved deeper, the danger became more palpable. There were moments when Ishikawa felt like they were being watched—eyes lingering on them in hallways, whispers that faded as soon as they approached. It was clear that someone—or something—was aware of their investigation.

One evening, after a long day of research, Ishikawa found himself back in the practice room, alone once again. He sat at the piano, his fingers resting on the keys. The familiar melody that Seito had once played echoed in his mind, but this time, it felt different. There was a sadness to it, a sense of finality.

As he began to play, the room seemed to shift. The air grew colder, and the shadows lengthened, creeping along the walls like tendrils of darkness. And then, just as he reached the climax of the piece, he felt it—a presence.

He froze, his fingers hovering over the keys. Slowly, he looked up, and his breath caught in his throat.

Seito was standing across the room, his ghostly figure barely visible in the dim light. His eyes were fixed on Ishikawa, filled with sorrow and something else—gratitude.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the silence stretching between them. And then, slowly, Seito nodded, as if acknowledging the steps Ishikawa had taken to uncover the truth.

The figure faded, leaving behind a sense of peace that Ishikawa hadn't felt in weeks.

The truth was out there, and now, they were closer than ever to bringing it into the light.