Mirei Shishido 

"You should experience failure once while you're young."

Adults often said that, but I thought it was such a selfish opinion. It's not a "good memory." For me, it's "now." I can't just be happy about a setback.

Music Room No. 1, at the end of the old schoolhouse, was the oldest of the 13 music rooms on campus. I was all alone there, thinking about that as I watched the sunset.

The high school I attended was a prestigious music school with an associated college of music. Talented students from within the prefecture and beyond gathered here, studying diligently day and night.

Thanks to the support of my understanding family, I was able to learn all kinds of instruments. All my teachers had high expectations of me, and I had no doubt that my dreams of becoming both a composer and performer would come true. That's why I was so glad I could attend this school.

That was until the accident last month.

I was told it would take about a year for my injured right hand to fully recover. Not being able to play music at this school for a full year was no different than dropping out. Attending music school without practicing an instrument meant there was no place for me in the class. After school, while everyone honed their skills in the various music rooms, I didn't feel like going straight home, so every day I would sit idly in a worn-out old chair in Music Room No. 1, where no one came in.

"I wanna play an instrument..."

I started talking to myself without thinking, and, surprised by myself, I looked around hurriedly to see if anyone was listening. Sure enough, the number one most unpopular place to be was Music Room No. 1. I didn't sense a trace of anyone down the hallway. Relieved, I turned my gaze once again to the sunset out the window.

I'm sure I'll rot alone like this all the way to graduation.

I could see the high school life ahead of me. How was something like this supposed to turn into a "good memory"?

It wasn't just the old equipment that made Music Room No. 1 so unpopular. It was like one of those "seven mysteries" things—there were always rumors about a girl's ghost appearing in the room. Luckily for me, I didn't believe in stuff like that, so I could use the room at my leisure without being scared of ghosts.

After all, if there really were ghosts or gods in this world, it sure would have been nice for a miracle to heal my right hand in an instant.

Hating myself for that childish, selfish idea, I muttered to myself, deliberately this time. "I don't care anymore. Maybe I should just quit school."

My words seeped into the old classroom walls, where no one should have been able to hear them.

"Then why don't you quit?"

A voice made me flinch and I turned around to see a girl about my age...floating in the air. An old school uniform, long since replaced. Long, straight hair. A big ribbon and a triangular bandana.

"You come here day after day and get all mopey and wishy-washy... It's making me depressed, too!"

"...Huh? Wha—huuuh!?"

"Oh? Wait a moment... Can you see me?"

If she was asking whether or not I could see her, I could. I nodded yes, my eyes wide open.

"Finally someone I can talk to! How long I've waited for this day!"

"Um, so, does that mean...you're a ghost?"

"Yes, that's right! How nice of you to ask! I'm the legendary ghost of the music room, Mirei Shishido! Oh, and I'm older than you, so you should call me Mirei-san!"

The ghost girl—Mirei—stood up to her full height and declared that with a look of excessive confidence. Seeing such a tiny girl puff up her chest with all her might, I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

That was how I met the ghost girl. My first ever encounter with a ghost was far from terrifying, but warm and comforting instead.

"Hmm, you hurt your right hand in an accident. How unfortunate."

"It's like fate telling me to give up on music."

"Come on! There you go moping again! If you get too depressed, an evil spirit's gonna possess you!"

"Y-You're joking, right!? It's too real hearing that from a ghost..."

"I mean, such a sweet, elegant, adorable girl like myself died an honest young maiden, you know? Don't you think I'm the one you should pity!?"

"You've got awfully high self-esteem for a ghost!"

As I conversed with Mirei, there were a few things I learned. Mainly, that she would relieve her stress at not being able to talk to anyone by playing pranks and startling students in Music Room No. 1. She was a student at the school during her lifetime, and she, too, loved music and playing instruments. And, I was the first person she was able to talk to.

Our after school chats became part of my daily routine, and some time passed. One day, Mirei started to talk with a more serious expression than usual.

"You know... I want to rest in peace."

"You do?"

"I'm tired of living as a ghost. I think that now that I'm able to talk to someone, this is my chance to pass on if we work together."

"I get it. Then I'll lend you my strength. Though I don't know how helpful I'll be."

"Thank you. I thought you'd say that. I'm pretty confident I can recognize the gentle sort of guy who'd be so whipped."

"That's...not a compliment, is it?"

When she saw my puzzled expression, Mirei laughed. Her complexion, already unthinkably rosy for a ghost's, flushed even redder, and when I saw her cackling, I thought about how she must have died too soon.

"They say it's common for people with regrets in this world to become ghosts," I said. "If you part with them, you can rest in peace. Mirei-san, is there something you regret?"

"You know... I was head of the concert band that they said was sure to take first prize at nationals. But I don't remember if we actually won, probably 'cause I died before the competition. I think maybe that's my regret."

"So you're saying if the concert band wins nationals, you can rest in peace, huh..."

As soon as she heard that, Mirei's eyes gleamed and she whirled around the classroom. I immediately cursed myself for saying it so hastily.

"That's it! That's gotta be it! You have to win the competition! If we see it happen together, then I should be able to pass on!"

"W-Wait a second! You know I can't play because of my injury!"

"What? You just promised to help me out. And you said that if you broke your promise, you'd hang yourself and become my ghost buddy."

"I didn't say that part!"

As I held my head in my hands over her dark ghost joke, I thought about what to do. It was true that with my injury, I couldn't help her out directly, but there was actually a bigger problem. It was too cruel a truth to tell Mirei, who wanted to rest in peace. Still, there was no hiding it. I started to say, "Well, the thing is..." but then decided to be direct without mincing words.

"There isn't one anymore."

"...Hm?"

"This school...doesn't have a concert band!"

It was true that this school did have a concert band once, one that even won the national competition many times in a row. But I heard that several years ago, in the interest of raising even more professional musicians, certain guidelines were set that put less emphasis on club activities. The students weren't especially opposed, and before long the band was disbanded. On the other hand, probably because they were normally so immersed in music, other activities like sports and cultural clubs were fairly popular.

Her one and only path to peace was already at an impasse. Thinking Mirei was surely in shock, I cautiously looked up at her. But there she was with an unexpectedly nonchalant look on her face.

"Is something wrong? If there isn't one, then you'll just have to make it."

I hadn't seen that one coming... One person was not a club, let alone a band. Her suggestion was so wild I was stunned speechless.

"I guess that wasn't clear enough. I didn't say it without thinking."

"...Huh?"

"I'm not the type of ghost who's stuck in one place. I like it here in the music room, but sometimes I wander around the school. So I see them sometimes."

What Mirei saw were students like me with no place to belong in the school.

"They're hurt, or don't do well with other people. I can't bear to see people who came to this school because they love music with such sad looks on their faces. You should gather those kids and make a club."

"...Well, there are other students on the verge of dropping out like me. But it's not very realistic..."

"It's my request, so I can't force you. But you're totally giving up, just like that?"

Mirei stared straight at me. Her captivating eyes were so full of strength it made me question whether she was really a ghost.

Why did I want to be a composer? Making sounds with an instrument is fun. Whether it's alone or together, mixing sounds together into music is fun. Making listeners happy is fun.

Music had always been fun for me. I wanted to convey those feelings the next time. When I thought about that, I started to set my sights on it. Even if it was in different forms, I was sure all the students at this school had the same love of music.

"...I get it. I'll give it a shot, but don't expect too much from me."

"Why's that? I feel like you might surprise yourself," Mirei replied, suddenly coming over to my side and patting my head. I was so shocked I completely froze up.

"W-What are you doing? Don't treat me like a child..."

"It's fine. I may look the same age as you, but I'm actually years older than you."

"That's not fair... Seriously though, you're a ghost but you can touch people?"

"Yes... For now, at least."

From the way she spoke, it seemed like there was some kind of hidden meaning, but she continued on before I could ask.

"I still haven't heard you play, but I'm confident you'll make wonderful music. Maybe 'cause I'm a ghost, I can see the color of souls. Ever since we first met, I've thought your soul is beautiful. That's why I wondered if you'd listen to my selfish request."

She spoke calmly, unlike her usual childish tone, and it made my heart race. At the same time, it was the first moment since the accident that I felt calm.

Even though she was a ghost, our relationship had become so deep. I couldn't turn a blind eye to her. I just had to give it a shot.

From the next day onward, I busied myself with finding club members, quite literally running around all for one girl.

Gathering club members was rough going at first, but once I got one, then two, they gathered in a chain reaction as things got on track. It wasn't just people like me who didn't know what to do with themselves, but those who were once interested in the band but gave up, too. As the founder, I was chosen as the head, partly by force. After all, because of my experience with many instruments and my hand injury, I was entrusted with waving the baton in the role of "student conductor." I was hesitant about such a big role at first, but I gave it my all every day with Mirei's enthusiastic support.

"All right, that's all for today's practice. Please be sure to look over each piece carefully."

Voices thanking me for my hard work rang out all at once, and soon it was only me and Mirei left in Music Room No. 1. Sure enough, no one but me could see her as she spent rehearsal floating around behind me and watching the band together.

"That's a prestigious music school for you," she said. "Everyone's talented, even if they're struggling."

"Yeah. There are still some spots that need more work, but more practice should do the trick."

"And at any rate, you're quite the conductor."

"Ugh, don't flatter me. I'm the number one thing holding us back... I've gotta practice more."

"Of course you should practice, but the most important thing for a conductor is that everyone trusts you. At least that much is clear to me. My eye for gentle guys wasn't wrong after all!"

I scratched the tip of my nose at her straightforward praise. Mirei didn't just say things at random. If it was coming from her, I should be happy about it.

Through practice, I got to see how amazing Mirei was. As the head of an incredibly competitive concert band in life, her skills were the real deal, and her advice on problems with each part or delicate interpersonal relationships was on the mark every time. She cheered me up when I was down, and celebrated enthusiastically with me when I was happy.

There was no doubt that everyone was talented. But I surely wouldn't have brought them this far on my own. It felt a bit dishonest, so I decided to be truthful with them when it was all over. There was actually one other person working hard alongside me... or something.

"Hey, your hand's doing a lot better now, right? Play something for me."

"My fingers are all stiff and I won't really be playing at my best, but if you don't mind..."

"Yes! I finally get to listen to you play!"

Though I sometimes played instruments to review phrases with the band, it had been a while since I played for anyone to listen. I wasn't all that good at it, but I dared to improvise some jazz piano with a mature feel to it. I was aiming for a laugh and a "That doesn't suit you at all!" from Mirei, but she wore a look of satisfaction.

"Yep. I knew you'd be wonderful. So this is your kind of sound."

Unable to back out now, I kept playing the jazz I was so unused to. Next to me, Mirei swayed along to the music. It was a gentle, tender time. I felt that I would never forget this moment.

It was the day of regionals. I was more nervous than I'd ever been in my life. It was a bit muffled, but the performances were audible where we waited backstage. Our turn was next.

"What's wrong? This isn't like you."

In the darkness a little ways away from the others, Mirei spoke up in concern for me as I tried to hold my trembling hands steady.

"It's the ensemble's first time in a competition. So...what if I mess up and cause trouble for everyone? Then I wouldn't be able to make your dream come true, Mirei-san..."

"I've been watching your rehearsals up close all this time. You'll all be fine," she said, and wrapped her hands around mine. Mirei's hands were cool to the touch, and before long the trembling subsided, as if she had absorbed all the excess heat.

"...Wow. Is that some kind of weird ghost power?"

"Hehehe. I wonder. Hey, it's your turn! Don't worry about me and go have fun out there!"

She patted me on the back and sent me on my way. Then, I walked toward the stage with everyone else...

Thanks to Mirei, I managed to regain my natural attitude, and I was able to conduct like always—no, I was able to conduct even better. The band, of course, was used to the situation, making full use of their skills and giving our best performance ever.

We ended up winning regionals. Even though I had fallen behind, I felt that I preserved my prestigious music school's pride. I quickly exchanged words of congratulations and thanks with the club members, then ran over to Mirei.

"We won, Mirei-san! Next up is nationals!"

I wanted to celebrate together. To say I'd come so far after rotting here alone every day after school. But...winning regionals also meant that Mirei's dream was getting closer.

"...Mirei...san?"

Mirei was trying hard to say something, and I could tell her lips were moving. But her voice didn't reach my ears.

"It seems like my dream of winning nationals is coming true."

"I think my time to rest in peace is getting closer."

"Don't worry, I can hear your voice."

In Music Room No. 1 as usual, Mirei communicated with me through writing, her pen flying across the pages of a notebook. After regionals, I hadn't been able to hear her voice at all.

"You know, Mirei-san..."

"What?"

"You're like one of those flip note comedians."

Mirei squinted her eyes and showed anger with her entire body. I burst out laughing at that, almost unnaturally loud.

I'm not sad at all.

Someone who became a ghost with lingering regrets was about to make her dreams come true and return where she belonged. If heaven and hell really existed, I was sure Mirei would go to heaven.

There wasn't much time left until nationals. We would be competing with plenty of powerhouse schools, so we had to make our performance even better. We practiced harder than we ever had before. Mirei gave me her usual advice in writing. But it decreased in frequency, and eventually there were more and more days where she didn't appear at all. It was evidence that her prediction about passing on soon was correct, but... I pretended not to notice.

Standing in front of everyone, I concluded our final rehearsal before nationals with some closing words. I called out to each of the members as I saw them off, until it was just me and Mirei in Music Room No. 1. The sunset lit the room like the first day we met, and I sat down in that same worn-out chair. Then, Mirei showed me the notebook.

"It's finally time for nationals this weekend."

"Yeah. It doesn't feel real at all."

If we were able to win the competition this weekend, I was sure Mirei would completely disappear. There were words I had thought many times but resolved never to say. And yet...before I knew it, I was saying them.

"I...don't want you to pass on, Mirei-san."

Mirei smiled back, not particularly surprised.

"Thank you. I actually feel the same."

"You...do?"

"Yep. I've been having so much fun here every day, it feels like I'll get punished for it. So..."

"...?"

"You've noticed, too, right? I'm slowly fading away. It's a bit early, isn't it?"

Mirei shrugged her shoulders bashfully.

Of course I knew.

There was no point saying I didn't want her to pass on. It was something to celebrate. Something to smile about. There was no point moping. I had to see her off with a smile.

I stood up and held out my right hand. Mirei held out her right hand the same way. But when I tried to grab it for a handshake, all I gripped was my own palm. Apparently I was already unable to touch her, too.

"I'm gonna win first place with everyone. So dont worry...and please, rest in peace."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Then, until the sky was completely dark, we chatted, reminiscing on our short but rich days together.

I basked in the shower of applause at my back, dripping with sweat and taking huge breaths. In front of me, I saw all the band members' expressions of accomplishment. I must have been making the same face. I stepped down from the conductor's podium and turned to face the audience, slowly took a bow, and the applause grew louder. Our nationals performance was over.

Maybe because of all my effort, my memories after that were fuzzy. I remembered Mirei being moved and saying "That was a great performance!" over and over, but I felt like I was floating, like it wasn't real.

That sense of reality finally came back to me when, as we waited in the audience for the results, we learned that we had won the second place prize.

We weren't able to win. We may have been the concert band of a prestigious music school, but the bands that had spent years carefully preparing for this day were strong. The wall of nationals was thick. It was frustrating. Even so, as we listened to the winning school's performance, we were convinced. It was such a wonderful performance.

Then, I thought of Mirei.

If we didn't win, what happens to her?

Maybe if her regrets weren't cleared up, her presence in this world would come back. I was certain. That had to be it. I could try again next year. Wouldn't it be nice to spend another year together?

"Mirei-sa—"

I looked around, but Mirei wasn't there. She had been right next to me just now, floating around like always.

I heard a voice call my school's name from the stage. The winning schools were meant to have a representative accept the prize. I stood up at the club members' urging, but instead of the stage, I ran toward the exit. I pushed the door open with all my might and ran out of the concert hall and onto the street in the blink of an eye.

Hurry, hurry!

Mirei wasn't there. Was it enough for her to be satisfied and rest in peace? No... Mirei wouldn't just go silently!

I had no basis for it, but a sense of certainty kept me running. To Music Room No. 1.

No one should have been in Music Room No. 1, but I could hear the piano. I took one deep breath to steady my labored breathing and opened the door.

"...Mirei-san."

"You came after all. I'm glad," Mirei said as she played the piano. That song... I was sure it was the one that I...

"Like that. It's the song you played before."

"I improvised that, but you remembered it really well, huh? And you're really good."

"Of course. I'm your senpai at this school, after all," Mirei answered softly.

I had a mountain of questions, but first, there was one thing on my mind.

"Oh yeah... I can hear your voice! And you can touch the piano..."

"Hehe. Guess I had more regrets than I thought."

I started running before she even finished her words, and hugged Mirei with all my might. I heard her react in wordless surprise and wrapped my arms even tighter.

"I-I like you, Mirei-san! I don't care that you're a ghost! I want you to be at my side, always!"

"...I like you, too. You're kind, you take initiative, and you get depressed a bit easily—I like that about you."

"R-Really?"

"Yes. Really."

I was happy. I didn't know I could be so happy to hear someone I liked say they liked me back. And yet...

"But...I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"I've been deceiving you. Pretending not to notice this whole time."

I faced Mirei, putting her in front of me. Big teardrops rolled down her face. Her silhouette was hazy, as if lit from behind...and slowly turning transparent.

"Deceiving me? What's that mean...?"

"It seems like 'not winning nationals' wasn't my regret."

"...What's your regret?"

"I realized it along the way. My lingering regret in this world...was having my love requited by the boy I like. Hehe, adorable, isn't it?"

"S-So then..."

"Yeah... It came true. I knew if it did, it would make you sad."

Mirei was growing more transparent, her voice getting quieter. They were signs she was disappearing.

"No... No way... There's still so much I wanted to talk about..."

"...Eventually, you'll grow up, and I'm sure you'll become someone who can move people's hearts. You can't be with a ghost forever."

It was only times like this when she acted like my senpai and admonished me. But...I couldn't listen. Tears spilled over against my will.

"I'm so glad you said you liked me. Now I can die happy."

"I know I'm always saying this, but...that's not funny at all..."

We looked at each other with tear-stained faces and burst into laughter. After we laughed for a while, I felt strangely refreshed. How many times did I have to forget something so important until I was satisfied? This was something to celebrate.

"...Looks like it's time to say goodbye," Mirei said.

"Yeah, be well."

"Same to you. I'm sure we'll meet again somewhere. Do your best on your journey."

"I know. I'll do it my own way."

Then, Mirei was gone too soon. I was certain that would be the end of the rumors about the ghost girl in Music Room No. 1.

"Wow, I never thought we would have a teacher like you as our school's concert band advisor!"

"Training the next generation is important to me. I'm happy to be starting work at my alma mater."

It had been over a decade since Mirei passed on. I was fulfilling my long-cherished dream of spreading music all over the world. It took grueling technical training to stand on the same level as the best of the best, and extensive trial and error just to create one incredible song. The road was by no means smooth, but I was able to do my best because I felt like Mirei was rooting for me from somewhere.

The packed schedule that kept me flying around the world had calmed down for now, and I decided to return to my hometown. I wanted to refresh myself in a place I knew and loved, too, but my primary goal was to give back to my alma mater.

"And that's it for the explanation, but...this must be nostalgic for you. Would you like to take a look around the school?"

"I'll do that. It might be a big shock if things are too different, though."

"Hahaha. Classes are over and it's after school now, so don't hesitate to walk around."

I could hear the sounds of instruments all throughout the main building, and peace and quiet quickly returned when I left. My feet took me straight to the old schoolhouse. I went through the main entrance and walked down the hall, the floor creaking with every step. The building was old, but it surely still saw some use, so they must have put some effort into it. It had deteriorated somewhat, but there were no major changes.

Sometimes I wondered if those days had all been a dream. But the concert band I revived back then was still weaving its history, and I had come back as a teacher. Those facts proved that it was no dream or illusion, but unmistakable reality.

As I thought about that and walked onward, I heard the sound of a piano from somewhere. It was coming from the end of the hallway—from Music Room No. 1. Its timbre...it was jazz piano with an exceptionally mature feel to it. When I stifled a laugh and opened the door, the player stopped at that exact moment, turned around, and said, "Ah!"

The classroom was dyed orange in the sunset, as if it had fallen into a cup of tea. There, sitting in front of the piano, was a petite girl with long straight hair and a big ribbon. In that moment, my chest tightened, and my breath caught in my throat.

Makes me feel like this reality where I became an adult was just a dream. It's that same scene I wished over and over to see one more time.

I couldn't get Mirei's words out of my head—"I'm sure we'll meet again somewhere."

"Um... Are you okay?" the girl asked with a concerned frown, perhaps doubtful of the way I stood there petrified with the door open.

"Ah, yeah. Sorry for interrupting. I'm fine."

"Wait a minute... Are you the new club advisor I heard about?"

"That's right. Does that mean you're in the concert band?"

"Yes, I am!"

She stood quickly from the bench and bowed to me, then cheerfully offered her right hand. I gripped her hand firmly and shook it.

"It's nice to meet you, sensei."

"Same to you."

That day, Mirei was finally able to rest in peace. She cried, laughed, and went home to heaven. This girl wasn't Mirei. She was alive in the present.

But I hadn't forgotten those days here when I was in love with a ghost—with Mirei.

"I'm really glad. Our club hasn't been able to get good results the last few years, but with a great teacher like you, I'm sure we can win nationals!"

"Ahaha... Your expectations might be a bit high..."

It was a bad habit I'd never gotten rid of. I blurted out a sheepish response. The girl muttered, "You haven't changed at all, huh..."

A mischievous grin crossed her face at my surprise, and she said one more thing.

"Make my dream come true this time, okay? ♪"