Izumi never believed and never would believe in ghosts. She had been raised Catholic and even though at this point she only went to Mass... That was the only thing her parents were strict with. She didn't hate her religious background but the compulsory nature of which her parents made her practice it really really sucked.

Izumi didn't believe in spirits, felt incredibly afraid in the dark. There was no need to complicate her fear by believing in spirits that weren't concrete. There was no need to believe it anything of the sort. It would only hurt her in the end as most things did that she wasn't sure of.

Life was okay until the Legendary Psychic Girl entered her class. At the beginning of year when asked to introduce herself she said she enjoyed reading and running. The entire class whispered, awe consumed.

"It's her!"

"The Psychic Girl!"

She never looked at anyone in the class as she spoke, glossy blue eyes focused on a fixed point. Her low raspy voice made Izumi shiver in her seat. It sounded familiar. The girl seemed to notice her movement, honing in on her. The weight of her stare unnerved Izumi.

No one had looked at her since that fight at the last year. She had sent a girl from the school's judo club to the hospital because of a pure miracle. The muscular girl had been unbalanced as she moved to punch Izumi again. Izumi was faster. Of course she had taken the opportunity to grab the girl's arm and flip her over her shoulder. She wasn't sure how she knew to do such a thing but it had paid off.

The bully's skull had cracked against the pavement and she'd accidentally broken her arm. The girl had had friends but they hadn't bothered Izumi from what Izumi remembered. Then again she'd been hit in the head enough on that day alone. The last two days of school were fuzzy. At least she'd been able to go to Italy with her parents over the summer. They always did the same things every year, but it was fun.

Her parents hadn't talked to her since the end of summer, but they never really talked to her outside of summer time. They had been very rarely interested in her life, even when she was a child. It wasn't exactly their full fault. Stressful jobs that demanded success and a few other things such as general disinterest. Izumi never minded really, she probably had more freedom than most of her peers.

Still it was lonely sometimes... They never all ate together, since the end of summer her parents had locked themselves in their studies or worked long hours. She was always asleep by the time they returned. In the mornings she was too tired to even remember dressing for school. She had had memory problems since the end of the last school year so it wasn't too much for her to worry about, not in her eyes.

But the way the girl looked at her caused her skin to heat up. She wore a pair of thick rimmed glasses and her hair was chin length save for her bangs. It looked like it got in her face a lot, but she was extremely cute if not unnerving. A beauty mark under her left eye was just barely noticeable under her thick glasses.

She introduced herself as Kimura Kouichi and she asked the class to take care of her. She didn't look like she wanted to be up there, even though her face was a careful blank mask. Izumi knew that look- was familiar with seeing it on herself. Kouichi sat in the back next to her and Izumi heard a few people gasp.

No one ever sat next to her or made any more to come close to her desk. It had been like that ever since she returned to Japan but it had never been this bad. Izumi blamed it on last year's fight.

As the teacher called attendance Izumi didn't bother listening. She never called Izumi's name, none of their teachers did or would ever. They never liked her and it was fine with Izumi. She just looked out of the window and blew a stray piece of hair out of her face. During her idle window gazing she saw a flash of movement outside as she blinked. When she focused on it whatever it was had vanished. It was like someone was running outside at about the speed of a car on a freeway.

That wasn't possible so Izumi tried her best to ignore it. When she looked away, gaze shifting around the room to look at her classmates she realized that Kouichi was looking outside at the exact same spot she had just watched. Her dark blue eyes glassy, mind a thousand miles away.

She didn't listen to the lesson, it was review and something she was well versed in. She knew enough to be useful when it came to grammar structure. Instead she carefully read from her personal book. It was a romance novel of sorts but she didn't really get the plot.

It could've been Casper for all she knew. She'd been trying to read it since before the fight last year because it was in Italian. She didn't have ready access to anything in Italian typically- she cherished their summer trips, really.

She often found herself interrupted while reading, by the sound of the bell this time.

Everyone took a five minute break to stretch before moving onto the next subject. Math was too easy. Izumi copied the problems down in her note book.

Geometry was easy to memorize like most of the other subjects she took. In early grades after she had read all the other literature books in their library she had moved onto the maths and sciences.

No one had talked to her then and she made no effort to talk to others. She wanted to be kinder but with each failed attempt she shut herself off more and more...

Her developed memory issues didn't really help her out that much either. She didn't try to remember her classmates this year out of embarrassment. She didn't want to be picked on for not knowing the name of their class representative. Maybe it was Chiruka?

But Kimura Kouichi... The name inspired a melody to fill her chest like a faintly remembered lullaby. It settled like stones in her stomach only to float into her heart and flutter like thousands of hummingbirds, hovering near.

The rest of the morning was fairly uneventful English was easy, she was nearly fluent in it. She had picked up a lot of English in Italy, surprisingly. Instead of listening she reached into her desk to grab her copy of the Picture of Dorian Gray. She felt anger swell up within her until she remembered. She has left the book in her desk over summer, there was no reason for her to be mad. The janitors had probably collected her book and taken it to the library.

She'd have to look. But it'd be a pain, she didn't know anyone in the library. Club members and attendants changed yearly.

It really wasn't her problem, she could always buy another copy. A shiny hard back with a new cover and everything. She had gotten her previous copy from a slightly unconventional source.

She had found it in a graveyard while visiting a deceased relative of hers. She had been on her way back and the abundance of tightly packed graves freaked her out. She hated ghosts because of her fear of the dark. She had gripped the rosary wound in her small hand even tighter.

The book had been laying on the ground open, dropped in a hurry. It wasn't hers and she couldn't tell how long it had been out there but she was still drawn to it. Every step towards it was of her own violation.

She apologized to the gravestone. At the time her understanding of Japanese was poor. She thought the gravestone said "Sasaki", but looking back on it it probably wasn't anything resembling Sasaki. Maybe over time she had romanticised it?

Still she had picked it up and blinked at the English before her. She had returned from Italy to pay her respects to her uncle and to finally settle down in Japan. She was familiar with most basic English phrases but an entire book? She didn't know how long it would take the read the entirety of it. She had learned a lot but she hadn't had a chance to truly test her Japanese scribbled in the margins was, at least, vaguely familiar.

The only reason she didn't return the book and rush back to the church was because of what was written in the front cover.

To Izumi chan.

She nearly dropped the book and her rosary in her surprise. Her free hand traced over the characters of her name. Was this book for her? There was so much written there just within the front cover. She felt a garden of roses bloom within her breast.

"Izumi." Her Mother and Father shouted to her from down by the church. They were both wearing their usual business attires in dull grays. In her Mother's right hand she held a glass of red wine, the same color red as her nails, as blood in an ambulance.

She panicked for a second at the tone of their voices before she finally settled on tucking the book in the band of her skirt.

Her skirt was dark pink and fell to her knees. Her white socks with pink lace were the nicest pair she owned and the pair she always wore to church. Her white blouse was new, it had shiny blue buttons that reflected the sun. It was only the beginning of spring and ever so slightly chilly. Her cardigan would hide her book for now.

Before she left she said her thanks to the gravestones owner. Her voice was soft but the wind was kind and carried it for her. She felt as though the gravestone was thanking her.

As they left, her parents caging her in between their larger bodies, Izumi threw a final look over her shoulder. There was no one there. It was silly for her to have expected someone her own age standing where she stood, waving to her.

Instead of focusing like she probably should have, she returned her attention to outside. It was the first day back for the year and the Sakura were in fresh bloom. She tucked a stray clump of hair behind an ear. She once again felt eyes on her and half expected it to be one of her classmates. She was half right.

Kouichi sat quietly, but her eyes were wide and unblinking. Izumi frowned- was she okay? She opened her mouth to whisper but Kouichi interrupted her. She pressed a short finger to her mouth in a hush motion and then she focused her attention on her.

A shock of electricity ran down Izumi's spine when she realized that Kouichi hadn't been looking at her, she'd been looking through her. She felt eyes boring through the back of her head and knew whoever was behind her was staring back. She slowly turned around trying to be quiet.

"Someone" hadn't been the right term. "Something" may have worked better. That is if Izumi had a clue of what the hell it was she was looking at.

It's body moved like mist, or maybe it was like looking at something under a microscope that wouldn't focus no matter what you did. The eyes that looked back at Kouichi, and by extension, her, were a startling neon green. Whatever it was, was humanoid, but it held itself like an injured animal. Its left arm was tucked in close to its body, if you could even call it that.

Thick gelatinous blood oozed from multiple wounds. It was the same color as its eyes.

Izumi was thoroughly unnerved to say the least.

The class was too focused on watching a boy stutter his way through the required reading to notice Izumi trying not to scream. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, scorching would be better. She knew it was Kouichi, she must have noticed how uncomfortable she was. Kouichi felt like what the sun would feel like if it reached out and touched you.

She gently urged Izumi to face forward and ignore the creature, as if it wasn't there at all. Izumi reluctantly followed her silent instruction.

Kouichi's hand moved to settle over on top of Izumi's hand. It's weight was oddly comforting and despite the situation Izumi found herself blushing.

Kouichi continued her silent stare off with the creature instead of paying attention during class. Izumi focused on the searing warmth of Kouichi's hand over her own. How could anyone be so hot?

Her face flushed deeper, there she was blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush because someone was touching her hand. Though to be fair she was a schoolgirl. Still she felt incredibly silly. Kouichi probably thought she was a weirdo and there went another possible friend down the drain forever.

Not that she really considered that Kouichi would want to be her friend, she joined the same time as everyone else had and probably had plenty of people to talk to.

She'd heard about her before, never had a name or face to connect the story to until now.

The class passed by quickly and before Izumi knew it, the teacher was leaving and they were on break. Kouichi stood and left to go outside, the creature followed. Izumi felt her knees nearly knock together at the intensity of its gaze.

She wasn't a coward but it made every muscle in her body tense up. Why was Kouichi going out to it? Izumi waited and she waited but by the time Kouichi came back two class periods had passed. Kouichi stood before the room, hair shower fresh and uniform straightened. It curled around her face and stuck up in other areas, like her hair couldn't decide where it wanted to go.

"Where were you Kimura san?" their teacher asked, her hands rested on her bony hips.

"I went to the nurse's office and the nurse spilled a cart full of supplies on me. She wrote me a late pass." Kouichi showed her the scrawled out note, it was nearly illegible. It looked exactly like their nurse's handwriting.

She made her way back to her seat, footsteps like waves crashing against the shore. They didn't cease when she took her seat, only more subtle in their movement. A being full of grace.

She resumed her work and didn't even glance over at Izumi. Izumi wasn't sure what any of it meant. Who did that girl think she was getting her hopes up? How cruel.

The periods passed on without Izumi paying any attention. It was easier to lay her head on the desk and not look like she was staring at Kouichi.

Which she wasn't. She was only periodically looking over to see what Kouichi was doing.

Before Izumi even knew it the day was over and the class had already bowed to the teacher. Thinking back on it, she couldn't remember much about lunch other than the face Kouichi made when she first opened up the box.

She focused on her surroundings and saw a note. The handwriting was familiar and without opening it she knew Kouichi had written it. Everything about Kouichi was familiar. But Izumi had heard that fake psychics did weird things to get your guard down. Like hold your hand.

She stood and pocketed the note. She'd read it later.