CH9 One Lost Friend Part 2

There were so many choices: roller coasters, merry-go-rounds, game booths with prizes. The haunted house loomed in the distance, but I wasn’t ready to revisit that memory just yet.

Aya looked around, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. “Let’s go with something fun. Maybe… bumper cars?”

"Bumper cars, huh? But I don’t think I can let you drive one," I said, chuckling. "There are some people who have pretty sharp eyes, and well... seatbelts can’t exactly protect you if you’re not, you know, physically there."

Aya tilted her head, considering it for a moment. "Hmm, yeah. You’ve got a point," she replied with a slight grin. "Okay, then how about the merry-go-round?"

I nodded in agreement, and we made our way over. The ride wasn’t too crowded, just a few

parents with their kids. The colorful horses spun gently under the lights, their polished surfaces gleaming as they moved up and down in rhythm.

I handed my ticket to the operator and walked through the entrance. I climbed onto one of the vacant horses, a deep red one with a gold saddle, feeling a bit ridiculous but trying not to

overthink it. I glanced around and saw Aya hopping onto a blue horse a little farther away. She turned her head toward me, a soft smile lighting up her face, and for a moment, the tension she had been carrying seemed to vanish.

As the ride started, the lights flickered on, casting a warm glow over everything. The music played softly, and the world seemed to slow down. I watched as Aya, with her hair flowing gently and her eyes sparkling, rode her horse gracefully, like she belonged in this dreamy,

timeless moment.

That’s when something inside me shifted, an almost imperceptible tremor at first, like a

heartbeat out of sync with the rest of the world. But then it grew, expanding, pulsing with every breath I took. The way she smiled under the swirling lights, her laughter harmonizing with the distant music—it struck me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. It wasn’t just the sight of her that captivated me, it was her. Aya, in all her quiet mystery, in all the moments we’d shared, now

seemed to stand before me in a light I had never truly seen.

My heart stuttered, a sharp pang that seized my chest as if trying to break free from whatever walls I had built around it. The noise of the amusement park dulled into a soft hum, the voices of the crowd fading into the distance. It was as if everything had blurred, except for her. Her hair catching the soft glow of the carousel lights, her eyes reflecting the fleeting brightness, her lips parting into that gentle, almost wistful smile—I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to.

It hit me all at once, this wave of emotion that I hadn’t expected, hadn’t even realized had been building all this time. The strange, aching pull that had been there beneath the surface, the one I had ignored in the quiet moments when it was just Aya and me, came crashing down now. My heart pounded in my chest, a wild, unsteady rhythm, as if trying to force me to acknowledge what I had been avoiding for so long.

I wasn’t just captivated by her presence anymore. No, this was something deeper, something I hadn’t dared let myself feel before. Aya wasn’t just a ghost, wasn’t just some lingering spirit bound to me by fate or circumstance. She was Aya—someone who had become a part of my life in a way I hadn’t anticipated. And now, here, in this fleeting, surreal moment on a merry-go- round of all places, I realized the undeniable truth that I had been too afraid to face: I was falling for her.

But how could I fall for someone who wasn’t even supposed to be here? Someone who might vanish the moment we uncovered her past? The thought sent a sharp pang of fear through me, cutting through the warmth of the moment. How could I let myself feel this way when

everything between us felt so fragile, so uncertain? I kept staring at her, lost in the way she bloomed in the glow of the lights, her joy and sadness interwoven in a way that made her feel more real than anything I had known. For the first time, I wasn’t thinking about the past or the future—I was just here, with her, in this one, perfect moment.

I kept staring at her, unable to stop myself. For the first time in a while, she looked genuinely happy, and that happiness radiated from her, filling the space around us. The way she caught the light, the way her smile softened her features—it was like seeing Aya in a new light, one I hadn’t noticed before. And for the rest of the ride, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

As the merry-go-round began to slow, I realized I hadn’t even noticed the time passing. I was too caught up in watching Aya, in trying to process this rush of emotion I hadn’t expected. When the ride finally stopped, Aya turned to me, her smile still there, and something inside me twisted.

“Did you enjoy it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I did,” she replied, her eyes shining. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt that free.”

I nodded, swallowing the strange feeling that had settled in my chest. “Let’s see what else we can do then. There’s still plenty of park left.”

As we walked toward the next ride, I couldn’t shake the thought from my mind: Aya wasn’t just a ghost to me anymore. She was something more.

After we rode the merry-go-round, Aya’s eyes lit up with excitement as she pointed toward the haunted mansion. “Let’s go in there next!”

I hesitated, feeling a chill run down my spine. Of all the rides, why the haunted mansion? “You sure about that? I mean, aren’t you already kind of... you know,” I gestured vaguely toward her, “a ghost?”

She just smirked. “Exactly. That’s why it’ll be fun. I want to see how they handle it.”

I sighed, knowing I couldn’t say no to her. After buying the tickets, we walked through the creaky wooden entrance. The air was cooler inside, and fake cobwebs clung to the walls, the faint sound of eerie whispers filling the dimly lit corridor. I wasn’t a fan of horror—never had been—but something about walking next to Aya made me feel both more uneasy and strangely comforted.

As we moved deeper into the mansion, I suddenly felt something brush against my left hand. At first, I tensed, thinking it was some spooky prop, but when I glanced down, I realized it was Aya,

linking her arm with mine. My heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the warmth of human touch—it never could be with her—but I could still feel the pressure of her presence.

I glanced at her, raising an eyebrow, and she just turned her head away, pretending not to notice what she’d done. Her cheeks flushed faintly in the dim light, though she tried to play it cool.

“Scared, huh?” I teased, though my voice was shakier than I’d like to admit.

She scoffed. “Me? Scared? I’m just making sure you don’t bolt the moment something jumps out at us.”

I chuckled, but inside, my heart was racing, and it wasn’t because of the mansion’s cheap thrills. There was something about the way Aya was holding onto me—lightly, almost hesitantly—that sent a flood of confusing emotions through me. It wasn’t like she could hold onto anyone else, after all. Just me.

We continued walking through the dim corridors, passing flickering candles and life-sized skeletons. At one point, a particularly loud wail came from behind a wall, and I jumped slightly. Aya squeezed my arm tighter, her cool touch grounding me.

“You okay?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Yeah, yeah. Just startled.” I tried to play it off, but the pounding in my chest betrayed me. Her proximity was affecting me more than any of the haunted house’s scares.

As we turned a corner, a figure suddenly dropped from the ceiling, shrieking and flashing its

glowing red eyes. I couldn’t help it—I let out a small yelp, stepping back in surprise.

Aya laughed softly beside me, her musical voice cutting through the eerie atmosphere. “You really are jumpy,” she teased, though there was a tenderness in her tone.

“You’d think I’d be used to this by now, with you around,” I mumbled, trying to laugh off my

embarrassment.

She smiled at me, and for a moment, her expression softened in a way that made me forget where we were. The haunted mansion’s dark, spooky surroundings faded into the background, and all I could focus on was Aya, her arm still linked with mine, her gaze filled with something warm, something familiar.

For a brief moment, I felt something unspoken between us, like a connection that went beyond our strange, supernatural circumstances. I wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but the words caught in my throat.

Suddenly, Aya leaned in a little closer, her voice low. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy in her question. “What? No, of course not.” “Good,” she whispered, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, she tugged me gently forward, leading me further into the mansion. My heart was racing again, but this time it had nothing to do with fear. As we walked side by side, her

arm still entwined with mine, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the one holding onto her... or if she was the one holding onto me.

We exited the mansion, a cold breeze hitting my face as Aya finally let go of my arm. There was a strange emptiness in the absence of her touch—a hollowness I couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was because I hadn’t felt someone’s closeness in a long time. For a moment, I wished it had

lasted longer, even though she wasn’t really “there” in the way most people would think.

I shook the feeling off, trying to focus on something more practical. My stomach growled softly, breaking the silence.

"Hey, Aya," I said, turning to her. "Can we eat first? I’m feeling a little hungry." She smiled, as cheerful as ever. "Sure! What do you feel like eating?"

I thought for a moment, my gaze drifting over the various food stalls and restaurants scattered across the park. "I could go for some fried chicken and rice," I said, my mouth already watering at the thought.

Aya nodded enthusiastically. "Oh! Fried chicken sounds great. Let’s go."

We made our way to one of the fast food chains inside the amusement park. It was one of those places that smelled like deep-fried everything the moment you stepped through the door. The colorful menu above the counter displayed all kinds of fried chicken combos, from spicy wings to extra-crispy drumsticks. There were people bustling about, kids excitedly pointing at the menu while their parents tried to keep up with their energy.

As I placed my order at the counter, I couldn’t help but glance at Aya, who was standing beside me, invisible to everyone else. I ordered one combo meal for myself, knowing full well that Aya didn’t need to eat. She couldn’t, anyway. But as the cashier handed me my tray of food, Aya leaned in slightly, peeking over my shoulder.

"Wow, that smells amazing," she said, eyes wide with excitement.

"Yeah, it does," I replied, taking a seat at one of the tables by the window. I set the tray down and unwrapped the steaming fried chicken, the crispy skin glistening under the restaurant’s lights.

Aya hovered beside me, her arms resting on the table as if she were about to join me for the meal. I could sense her presence more than ever, and just as I bit into the fried chicken, I felt her touch lightly on my right shoulder. The subtle, gentle touch that allowed her to “taste” the food through me. It was one of those strange ghostly quirks she had that I never fully understood, but it seemed to bring her some comfort.

I let her be, not moving away, knowing how much she enjoyed these little moments of normalcy. As I savored the crunch of the chicken, I could almost feel her satisfaction through that small connection. It was as if, by touching me, she got a glimpse of the world she could no longer fully experience.

"Is it good?" she asked, her voice quiet, but filled with curiosity.

"Yeah," I replied between bites, a small smile tugging at my lips. "It’s really good. You can taste

it too, right?"

She nodded, her touch on my shoulder growing just a little firmer. "It’s not the same as actually eating, but… it’s close. It reminds me of how things used to taste."

For a brief second, I caught a glimpse of the sadness in her eyes, a reminder of everything she had lost. But instead of pulling away, she seemed to lean into the moment, letting herself enjoy it in her own way.

I took another bite, this time slower, more mindful of the connection we shared. "I can keep eating if it makes you happy," I teased lightly, trying to keep things upbeat.

Aya chuckled softly. "You better. I need more than just one bite."

We sat there in quiet companionship, the amusement park’s noise buzzing faintly outside, but here, it was just the two of us—me eating, and Aya, a lingering presence who somehow made me feel more at peace.

Eventually, I finished my meal and leaned back in my chair, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Alright, ready to get back to the rides?" I asked, glancing at Aya.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling under the restaurant’s warm lights. "Absolutely. Let’s go have

some more fun."

We got up and headed back outside, somehow the weight in my chest felt lighter. As we walked toward the next set of rides, I found myself stealing glances at Aya, wondering when exactly this had all become so... comfortable.

Next, we headed to the spinning teacup ride. It looked harmless enough—teacup-shaped chairs on what seemed to be a giant spinning plate, each teacup rotating at its own pace. But I had just eaten, and now, with a growing sense of regret, I questioned whether this was a good idea. My stomach already felt a little uneasy just looking at the ride.

Aya, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed. She practically sat into the teacup

opposite me, settling in with an amused grin. Her ethereal presence meant she wouldn’t feel the same stomach-churning sensation I was about to endure, but she seemed more than happy to enjoy the ride alongside me.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. I shrugged, trying to act cool. "Yeah, totally. How bad could it be?"

As the ride began to spin, the teacup rotated mildly at first, a slow and steady turn that lulled me into a false sense of security. But soon, the speed picked up, and I could feel the momentum pulling me around faster. I gripped the edge of the cup, my knuckles turning white as the world blurred around me.

Aya, of course, was enjoying herself, smiling broadly as the teacup spun. "This is fun!" she said,

her laughter ringing out as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

I, however, wasn’t faring quite as well. "F-fun? Yeah, sure... if you like... spinning!" I barely managed to get the words out as the ride twirled us even faster.

Aya giggled, clearly amused by my discomfort. "You're turning green."

"No kidding," I muttered, clutching my stomach. I had a feeling the fried chicken from earlier was making a comeback.

"Don’t you dare throw up on me," she teased, leaning forward slightly. "I’m a ghost, but even I

have my limits!"

I let out a strained laugh, trying to keep it together. Despite the dizziness and nausea, there was something oddly endearing about sharing this moment with her. Aya’s laughter filled the air, her smile brighter than ever. She seemed so full of life, even though she was anything but. It made me realize how much I enjoyed being around her, even in these ridiculous situations.

As the ride finally slowed down, I stumbled out of the teacup, grateful for solid ground. Aya hovered beside me, her laughter still bubbling up as she watched me try to steady myself.

"You okay?" she asked, a playful smirk on her lips.

"Yeah, just... remind me to never do that again," I said, trying to catch my breath.

Aya giggled again, linking her arm through mine. "Deal. But at least now you know—I'm great at rides, and you're... not so much."

I couldn’t help but laugh along with her, despite the dizziness. "You win this round."

After the ride, we wandered around the amusement park, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement. The colorful lights twinkled all around us, casting a warm glow over the sea of families and children darting between stalls and rides. Laughter and squeals of joy echoed in the air, mixing with the hum of carnival games and the whooshing sounds of roller coasters zipping by in the distance.

For everyone else, I probably looked like some guy wandering the park alone, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Aya was right here beside me, walking in step, even if no one else could see her. It was surreal, knowing that to the outside world, I appeared solitary. But in reality, I was having the time of my life—on what felt like a secret date.

I glanced over at Aya, watching as her eyes lit up with every little thing. The kids running past, the vendors calling out for people to try their luck, even the smell of fresh popcorn seemed to fascinate her. It was like she was rediscovering the world, and somehow, being with her made everything around me seem more magical too.

“Look at that,” Aya said, pointing toward a nearby cotton candy stand. Her excitement was infectious, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“You want to try some?” I asked, knowing full well she couldn’t eat it without touching me. She nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling. “Let’s get it!”

I bought a large, pink swirl of cotton candy, handing it over to her. Of course, she couldn’t hold it on her own, so she hovered closer, placing her hand lightly on my arm as I brought it up to my mouth. It was a strange but intimate act, sharing the sweetness this way. I could feel her delicate touch on my skin, though it was cool, almost like a breeze rather than warmth.

“Mmm, I missed this,” she said, closing her eyes as she savored the taste. "It's sweet.”

I chuckled. "You always had a thing for sweets, huh?"

Aya looked thoughtful for a moment, as if trying to piece together a distant memory. Then she smiled. "I think so. It feels familiar."

We continued strolling through the park, finishing off the cotton candy as we passed more rides, more families. Every now and then, a child would glance up at me, their eyes wide in curiosity, maybe wondering why I was smiling or laughing to myself. But I didn’t care. I was here with Aya, and that was all that mattered.

For the first time in a while, I felt completely content. This wasn’t just a fun outing—it felt like more. I had come to the park thinking I was trying to cheer her up, but now, walking side by side through the glowing carnival lights, I realized she had brightened up my world in ways I hadn’t expected. Every small gesture, every laugh, every moment with Aya made me feel something deeper, something that went beyond the strange circumstances of her being a ghost.

It felt like I was falling for her.

As we passed by a group of kids who were giggling and pointing at a nearby game stall, Aya

nudged me. “Hey, think you could win me one of those?”

I followed her gaze to a classic ring toss game. The prizes were the usual stuffed animals and

toys, but the sight of Aya’s playful expression made my heart skip a beat. “You want a stuffed animal?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

She pouted, crossing her arms. “Well, I can’t exactly win one myself, can I?” I grinned. “Alright, challenge accepted.”

Stepping up to the booth, I handed over the money and took the rings in hand. Aya stood beside me, watching intently. The first two throws were miserable failures. The third was closer, but still no luck. I was starting to feel the pressure when I saw her watching me so expectantly.

"Come on, you've got this," she whispered, leaning in as if to cheer me on.

Taking a deep breath, I aimed carefully and tossed the final ring. It landed perfectly, hooking onto the bottle neck with a satisfying clink.

"Yes!" I cheered, more proud than I probably should’ve been.

Aya clapped her hands together in excitement. “You did it!”

I smiled and pointed to one of the prizes—a small, stuffed cat with big, round eyes. It reminded me of Aya somehow, her curiosity and playful nature.

“This one?” I asked.

Aya nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips. “It’s perfect.”

I handed the plush to her, and though she couldn’t really hold it, she placed her hand over mine, her touch sending a shiver through me. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice gentle.

For a moment, I was lost in her gaze, the world around us fading even further into the background. The flickering lights of the park danced around us, casting a soft glow over her figure. As the sun set, the sky turned a deep shade of orange, blending into purple at the horizon.

The stuffed animal dangled loosely from my left hand, but I barely noticed. My entire focus was on Aya’s hand in mine—cool and light, yet somehow so tangible in that moment. My heart pounded in my chest, so loud that I was sure she could hear it. It felt surreal, like a dream I never wanted to wake up from.

I glanced down at her, and she met my gaze with that same soft smile, the one that felt like it could melt away everything else. It was a smile that made me feel like the luckiest person alive, even though she wasn’t really alive in the traditional sense.

“Is this... okay?” she asked quietly, her voice soft as the breeze.

I swallowed hard, trying to calm the whirlwind inside me. “Yeah... It’s more than okay,” I

managed to say, though my voice came out shaky.

She squeezed my hand lightly, and though there was no warmth, the gesture made my heart race even faster. It was so simple, yet it felt like everything. In that moment, walking hand-in- hand through the twilight, with the vibrant amusement park fading behind us, I realized

something undeniable. I didn’t just care for Aya. I was falling for her.

But the thought was bittersweet. Aya was a ghost, bound to me in ways I didn’t fully

understand. Could this ever be real? Could these feelings ever lead anywhere?

Yet, for now, with her hand in mine and that beautiful, almost heart-stopping smile on her face,

I didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was here, with me.

We walked together, our fingers still intertwined, until we found ourselves standing in front of the towering Ferris wheel. The sight of it was a little overwhelming—massive, brightly lit, and dominating the skyline. The wheel seemed to turn so slowly, yet each revolution would take around thirty minutes.

"Should we ride this?" I asked, glancing at Aya.

“Oh sure. Why not?” she replied, her voice light and excited.

We separated for a moment as I handed my ticket to the operator, the warmth—or rather the feeling of connection—from her hand still lingering in mine. The operator ushered us into a glass-walled cabin. The wagon could seat up to six, but it was just the two of us inside, making the space feel more intimate.

As we took our seats, I found myself sitting across from Aya, her form framed against the setting sun. The soft orange and pink hues of the sky spilled into the cabin, painting everything in golden light. The city beneath us glimmered as the lights began to flicker on, buildings and streets forming a sparkling tapestry below.

The Ferris wheel slowly rose higher, and with every second, the city stretched out farther into the distance. The sky was fading from brilliant oranges to softer purples, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of it all.

"Wow. Hey! See that!" Aya exclaimed, pointing towards the horizon where the last rays of sunlight touched the tops of the buildings.

“Yeah... I see it,” I replied, taking in the view. But as breathtaking as the sight was, I found my

gaze drifting back to Aya.

That’s when I noticed her watching me, her expression serious yet soft, her eyes reflecting the warm colors of the sunset. The light made her almost ethereal, as if she wasn’t just a ghost but a figure made of sunlight and air. Her eyes sparkled in the golden light, more beautiful than the view itself.

I felt my heart race, my thoughts spinning like the Ferris wheel itself. She was shining, truly glowing in that moment, and the words that had been sitting in my chest for days started to rise to the surface, uncontainable.

“Aya, I... I...” I began, feeling my voice tremble as my heart thudded loudly in my chest, each beat screaming the truth I had tried to hold back. “I love y—”

Before I could finish, Aya leaned in, her lips brushing softly against mine. The world around us froze. The city, the sky, the Ferris wheel—all of it disappeared, and there was nothing but the soft pressure of her kiss, the cool sensation against my lips.

My mind blanked, and for those few seconds, it didn’t matter that she was a ghost, that this moment was impossible. All that mattered was Aya and the way she felt—real, warm in a way that defied logic. When she pulled away, I could see the same emotions swirling in her eyes, uncertainty mixed with affection.

For once, I had no words. I could only stare at her, breathless, as the Ferris wheel reached its peak, and the city stretched endlessly below us.

I sat there, stunned, my heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out everything else. My mind couldn’t process what had just happened. Aya—this girl who wasn’t even supposed to exist— had kissed me, and in that moment, nothing made sense, yet everything felt right.

広い宇宙の数ある一つ 青い地球の広い世界で小さな恋の思いは届く小さな島のあなたの元へ In this vast universe

In a single vast blue planet

My small feelings of love reach out to you In that tiny island

あなたと出会い時は流れる

思いを込めた手紙も増えるいつしか二人互いに響く 時に激しく時に切なく

Time had passed since I met you

And the letters adorning our feelings are also increasing Someday, they will echo unnoticed in our hearts

At times violently, at times painfully

響くは遠く遥か彼方へ 優しい歌は世界を変える

They will echo faraway, into the far-off distance This tender song will change world

ほら!

あなたにとって大事な人ほどすぐそばにいるの

ただ!

あなたにだけ届いて欲しい響け恋の歌

Hey, the person who is important to you, is right by your side They just want it to reach you, resound, O song of love

ほらほらほら

響け恋の歌

Hey, Hey, Hey

Resound, O song of love.

Chiisana koi no uta ( Song of Small Love) by Mongol 800

Aya pulled back just slightly, her eyes searching mine as if she was waiting for my reaction. There was a delicate vulnerability in her expression, something I hadn’t seen before. Her usual teasing and carefree attitude had melted away, leaving something raw and fragile in its place.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, almost as if she regretted it. “I didn’t mean to make things confusing for you.”

“No, don’t apologize,” I managed to say, my voice barely steady. “It’s not confusing. I just…” I trailed off, unable to find the right words to explain the whirlwind of emotions racing through me.

She looked down, her fingers fidgeting in her lap as the Ferris wheel slowly began its descent. The cabin swayed gently, but the world inside still felt like it was spinning.

“I guess… it’s weird, right?” she continued, her voice quiet. “I’m not even really here, and yet… I can’t help feeling this way about you.” She looked back up at me, her eyes shimmering with

something between hope and sadness. “But I don’t want to disappear without telling you.”

The weight of her words hit me all at once. Disappear. The thought of her leaving, of being

without her, sent a cold shiver through me. Aya wasn’t just some ghost haunting my life—she had become a part of it. And now, hearing her voice her fears, I realized how much I wanted her to stay, how much she meant to me.

“Aya… I don’t want you to disappear,” I said softly, the words coming out more desperate

than I intended.

She smiled at the gesture, though there was a sadness in her eyes. “Even if I don’t belong here?”

“You do,” I said firmly, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice. “You belong with me.”

Her expression softened, but there was still that hint of sadness. “I don’t know how much longer I have. But I want to spend it with you.”

I didn’t know what to say. My chest felt tight, the weight of the unknown pressing down on me. I didn’t know how long I had with her, whether it was days or weeks or just this one fleeting moment, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was Aya, sitting across from me, her presence both fragile and undeniable.

As the Ferris wheel neared the ground, the sun had finally dipped below the horizon, leaving the city illuminated by thousands of tiny lights. The moment felt like a pause between realities—something that couldn’t last, but one I wanted to hold on to forever.

“I’m not ready to say goodbye,” I finally whispered.

Aya’s smile returned, this time a little brighter, though her eyes still carried that melancholy. “Then let’s not say goodbye yet.”

We didn’t need to speak anymore after that. The Ferris wheel stopped, and the operator opened the door for us to step out. As we left the ride and rejoined the bustling crowd of the amusement park, our hands—though never able to truly touch—felt as connected as ever.