Track Three: Borrowed Time

Musashi met up with Kojiro the next evening as promised. He smiled when he saw her, but it faltered when he realized she was alone. "Nyasu's not with you?"

"Turns out he has a night shift at the Pokemon Center." It wasn't a lie, just a convenient truth. After last night's debacle, Musashi was still debating the best way to let Nyasu know about Kojiro without giving him a heart attack in the process. And, if she was being honest, a selfish part of her wanted more one-on-one time with her old partner anyway.

"Oh... I was hoping..."

"I'm sorry, is my gorgeous presence not enough for you?"

She shot him a glare, half-teasing, and he held up his hands in surrender. "Of course not. I'd just missed him, is all. But I guess we'll have time to catch up later. So, where to?"

"Are you sure you want to go out?" she asked. "If you're beat from working all day, we could just hang out at my place."

Kojiro shrugged. "I feel fine. It's funny, but I don't get tired very much these days." He flashed her one of his excited grins, and Musashi realized how much she'd missed it. "But I am pretty hungry. Any place special you'd like to go?"

"I was thinking tonight we could just grab some fast food, then maybe head on over to the theatre. There's a new comedy out that my boss says is aces. Sound good?"

Kojiro's grin widened. "Perfect." As they started down the street, Kojiro glanced down at the ground, flushing a bit. "Er… when we get there, do you think you can do all the ordering for me? My Numeran is much worse than I thought. Or maybe the people here are just rude."

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

He frowned. "Well, it's just, every time I try to get directions or ask someone a question, they ignore me. I didn't mind it so much at first, but it's been going on ever since I got here."

"Huh." Musashi set a finger to her chin, musing aloud. "No one's ever done that to me or any of the tourists I've seen come to town."

He shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, will you do the ordering?"

"Sure, but..." Musashi cocked an eyebrow, peering up at him with a teasing grin. "How are you the one with the bad Numeran? Didn't you go to the top academies and have like a million tutors?"

He glanced away. "I, uh... might've run away before we got to the Numeran language lessons."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but what languages did you get to?"

"Classical Kantan, Middle Kantan, Indigenous Hoennese, Ancient Amorese, and about half a year of Torish."

Musashi almost tripped on her own feet. "In what universe would you need to know all of those?!"

He threw both his index finger and nose into the air, mimicking a stuffy teacher. "To be a true scholar one must understand the Classics, and to understand the Classics one simply must engage with them in the author's authentic voice." He rubbed the back of his head bashfully. "I've forgotten a lot of it, but if you ever find an old manuscript that needs translating..."

She smothered a laugh in one hand, using the other to mimic doffing a top hat. "As you wish, Sensei. You take the ancient manuscripts, I'll take the fast-food menus, and we'll have the world conquered by next week."

"See? This is why we make such a great team."

xxx

Musashi stepped up to the man at the ticket window. "Two for Reservations Only."

He shot her a skeptical look. "Two, miss?" She nodded and he chuckled. "You got a Pichu in your pocket?"

"No, I—" Musashi stopped short, glancing over to where Kojiro was waiting by the doors. "Just… two tickets, please."

"No problem. Didn't mean to seem rude for asking."

Musashi took the ticket stubs and gave one to Kojiro, walking quickly into the theater. What was wrong with that man? Hadn't he seen Kojiro? It wasn't like he'd been hiding behind the doors or anything.

They really are ignoring him, she thought, trying not to seem concerned in front of her friend.

The pair had the theatre mostly to themselves, since it was a late night showing. Musashi appreciated the privacy. It felt like it had been ages since they'd done something fun together, just the two of them.

The movie clipped along at an entertaining pace, full of miscommunication and sappy speeches, comforting in its predictability. Musashi had to admit she was paying more attention to Kojiro than the film, though. She couldn't stop sneaking glances at her old partner, watching his forehead wrinkle when he struggled to keep pace with the dialogue, his lips part when he caught a joke, his eyes fill with big gooey tears at the cheesiest scenes. Everything about him was just like she remembered, every little expression and gesture right back next to her where they belonged.

In spite of the strangeness with Nyasu and the ticket seller, she was happier than she'd been in months. Who cared how other people acted or what they remembered? Kojiro was here. She could sort out the rest later.

In a sudden burst of gratitude and affection, she wrapped her arms around one of his in a tight hug. She had never quite known what to call their relationship, but this undemanding intimacy had always been a comfort to her. Whether they were runaway kids huddled under a blanket or Team Rocket agents fleeing a crime scene, she'd known she could count on the steady warmth of his shoulder against hers, their hands clasped tight 'til they made it to safety again.

So many things she'd taken for granted, convinced they would never change. She'd have to do things differently this time.

Musashi snuggled closer, setting her cheek against his shoulder. "I'm glad we can do stuff like this again," said.

He leaned his head lightly atop her own, relaxing with easy familiarity into the space at her side. "That makes two of us."

Once the movie was over, they headed back to the inn. The pair walked in silence for a while, Kojiro seeming unusually tense. Musashi puzzled over this for a few minutes, then realized with a smile that his hand kept brushing against hers before jerking away again.

She rolled her eyes and reached across the distance, looping her fingers through his without comment. He relaxed considerably after that, and she had to fight not to laugh at him. Always wearing his heart on his sleeve and rarely having the confidence to act on it. He really hadn't changed a bit.

"So, Kojiro, which floor are you staying on? Third?"

"Fourth."

She stiffened. "Come again?"

"Fourth floor," he said. "I didn't have much money when I got here, but a nice family let me stay with them. They've been really great - I'm working for this small business they have, to pay rent and save up for my own place."

"B-but the fourth floor is—" Musashi stopped short, watching his face. He really had no idea. And he'd never believe her if she told him. "Never mind. Does it pay well?"

"Pretty well. Keeps me busy, though. But at least I get free meals." He smiled. "You should come up sometime. Mr. Johnson's cooking is first-class."

Johnson? Wasn't that the name...? Musashi turned her head away from Kojiro and frowned. Something very strange was going on, and she didn't think she could ignore it anymore.

xxx

Alana and Umber were nowhere to be seen when Musashi and Kojiro got back around midnight, but there was a young girl waiting in front of the elevator. She glared at Kojiro with mock severity. "Where have you been? Mom's worried sick! You should have told us you were going out!"

Kojiro rubbed the back of his head, fumbling to respond in Numeran. "Sorry. I thought I tell Mr. Johnson..."

"Oh, you know how scatterbrained Dad is," the girl said with a giggle. "Anyway, glad to see you're back. Can we go upstairs?"

"Kojiro, aren't you going to introduce us?" Musashi asked at his side.

He nodded. "Oh! Erin, this is Musashi. My friend. Musashi, this is Erin. She is the daughter of Jerry and Rita Johnson."

"Pleased to meet you, miss." Erin snapped her fingers as if remembering something. "Oh, I left Whiskers out for the night! Kojiro, do you think you could go find her? Mom and Dad don't want me going out back alone."

"Sure, be right back." He released Musashi's hand and trotted out the back door.

Once he was gone, Erin smiled pleasantly at Musashi. "So you're Kojiro's friend from life? And you can see us? That's neat."

"Why wouldn't I be able to see you?"

The girl tilted her head, puzzling over Musashi. "'Cause I'm not alive? Obviously. I thought everyone with the Sight knew that."

Musashi shook her head and sighed. Kids could be so annoying sometimes. "Never mind. Can you tell me something, though? Kojiro said he was staying on the fourth floor."

"He is. Same as me."

"That's impossible. The fourth floor burned down years ago. It doesn't exist."

"Sure it does, just not to living people like you," Erin said. "You know the hotel history, right? Me and my mom and dad are part of the original seven spirits. We've lived here for years, helping folks find their way to the Gates."

Musashi felt a cold lump settle in her stomach. "But then that would mean Kojiro's..."

"A ghost, yeah. He's one of the lost souls that Mom and Dad have to help get to, um, you know…" Erin waved a hand vaguely, "the next place."

"You're lying," Musashi spat, taking a hurried step away from the girl. "He's too real to be a ghost. I've held his hand, heard him laugh, seen him eat... He's alive! He has to be!"

She shook her head almost pityingly. "The lost souls are like that. They don't know what they are, so they act like what they used to be. I can do it too, if I try."

Erin held out her hand and Musashi hesitantly took it. For a moment, it felt like she was holding a normal human hand - then the warmth fled, leaving Musashi with the sensation of a cool mist against her palm. Like if she squeezed, the girl would dissolve in her grasp.

She shivered and jerked away. If Erin was offended, she didn't let it show. She looked more confused than annoyed, in fact, as if Musashi was a math problem she wanted to solve. "I'm surprised you didn't know. I've never met someone who could See us and didn't already know about us." She cocked her head again. "Did something happen to you, Miss? To make you like the—"

"Found her!" Kojiro called, toting a mewing Nyasu under one arm. He handed the animal over to Erin, who scratched her ears fiercely.

"C'mon, Whiskers, we need to get back upstairs." She glanced back up at Musashi. "It was nice meeting you, Miss. Maybe I'll see you again."

Kojiro waved good-bye. "G'night, Musashi. Same time tomorrow?"

She nodded weakly, staring at his bright smile and wondering what he really was. Her old friend, her dead friend... no, it just couldn't be true. "Sounds great. G'night, Kojiro."

xxx

The next day passed in a distracted blur until check-ins slowed and Musashi finally had a moment alone with Alana. While her boss sat behind the front desk, flipping through a travel magazine, Musashi dusted mantlepiece trinkets and tried very hard to keep her tone casual. "Say, Alana? You know a lot about ghosts and things, don't you?"

"Oh, I suppose I know my fair share," she agreed, not glancing up from her magazine. "Why? Something you want to know?" She chuckled. "Did the Fourth Floor Party keep you up last night?"

Musashi shook her head. She was a bit reluctant to ask her question, afraid of how Alana might take it, but she had to know or she'd never stop thinking about what that kid had told her. "You know that stuff you told me, about helping lost souls get to the Gates?"

"Yeah?"

"If a person wishes hard enough to be with another person - a dead person - then will that dead person… leave the Gates… and look for the other person?"

That caught Alana's attention. She fixed Musashi with a curious stare, closing her magazine as she did. "No," she said slowly. "I've never heard of that happening."

Musashi breathed a sigh of relief. At least she knew she wasn't guilty for Kojiro… that was to say, if he really was a...

"Why do you ask?"

She toyed with a bronze Windie figure. "What if I told you I thought someone was haunting me?" One of Alana's eyebrows rose. Musashi chuckled weakly, waving a dismissive hand in her friend's direction. "Just kidding. I wanted to see your reaction."

"Mm," was all she said, and went back to reading. Musashi coughed uneasily. The magazine went down again. "Something else?"

"Er, yeah, I s'pose... Um, how exactly does a person become a lost soul?"

Alana chewed on a hangnail as she mulled over the question. "I think, if I were to explain that, I'd have to tell you a legend about a place that is no place—"

"The Rift," Musashi supplied. She regretted it as soon as it came out.

The hotel owner shot her a look. "How do you know about that?"

Lies were one thing the ex-Rocket knew how to do. "I've been reading up on ghosts and the afterlife and all that stuff. If I work at a haunted inn I should know the theories, right? So, yeah, the Rift: people are, well, when they die they get taken there and they get asked what would make them happy."

"Right," Alana agreed, though that note of suspicion hadn't left her voice. "Most of the dead choose to go through the Gates – though don't ask me what's through them because I certainly couldn't tell you. Candyland, for all I know. At any rate, that's where they usually go. Some, however, pick something from earth that'll make them happy, and back to earth they go, wandering as spirits, sometimes for eternity. Many of them know they're ghosts - typically the ones who 'haunt' buildings. Others, though, don't realize they're dead. These are the ones that, as the stories go, are the lost souls."

"So they can't remember their deaths? The past they remember is... different from what really happened?"

"Exactly."

Musashi chewed on her lip and looked away. "What happens once they figure it out?"

Alana shrugged. "I wouldn't know, I've never been dead. But I'd guess they'd, you know, pass on."

"One more thing."

"Mm-hm?"

"What's Sight? With a capital S?"

"The ability to see ghosts," Alana said. "Really see them and talk to them, not just catch a passing shape out of the corner of your eye."

"Hm." Musashi set her chin in her hands, mulling over what Alana had told her. She could See ghosts - the Keeper must have had something to do with that - and the fourth floor was home to several families of spirits, and Kojiro was living with them.

Which meant...

Musashi couldn't process this with other people around. She muttered something about needing the restroom and dashed up the stairs to her empty apartment, staggering into the nearest armchair. She clutched a throw pillow to her chest and breathed into it, short ragged gasps, willing her eyes to stay dry even as her chest nearly cracked in half.

"I can't tell him," she hissed to the shadows. "He'll be devastated, and then he'll have to leave, and I'll... hell, losing him once was enough! Damn that Keeper, why couldn't he have told me what he was doing before he went and did it?!"

She blinked back tears, hugging the pillow all the tighter. She couldn't break down now. She had to stay strong. And she couldn't tell him. No matter what, she couldn't tell him.

"I won't think about it," she murmured, thinking out loud to help even her breaths. "I'll just forget all about it and enjoy the time we have. He'll find out eventually. It doesn't matter if it's me who tells him. So I'll just... be careful where we go, and keep him safe for as long as I can, and it'll be fine, until..." Her fingers clawed deep into the pillow, like she could dig inside and hide all her secrets. Like she could bury the hourglass counting down her partner's time.

The next part she couldn't say out loud, but she felt it, with every ragged breath and choked-back sob:

Please, Kojiro. Don't find out too soon.

xxx

The next couple weeks passed in a dreamlike blur. Musashi and Kojiro did so much in those evenings - whether it was a movie or a live show, an evening in the park, or just hanging out in Musashi's apartment - that it all flowed together into a hazy, pleasant glow.

It wasn't perfect, of course. Musashi had to be wary of where they went. She kept Kojiro away from crowded areas and they never dined out. When they stayed home for the evening, it was on nights when Nyasu was away. Musashi even took the extra precaution of leaving Sounansu at the Pokemon Daycare for "play dates," just to make sure he wouldn't pop out of his Pokeball when Kojiro was around.

Kojiro mentioned it on multiple occasions, clearly upset that he hadn't gotten a chance to spend time with Nyasu yet, but Musashi was always ready with an excuse: spring was the busy season at the national park, but the workaholic cat gave Kojiro his regards and promised they'd get together as soon as things slowed down. Kojiro frowned but didn't push it, and it was easy enough for Musashi to distract him with another evening outing.

Every night, when the handful of hours they'd spent together ended, Musashi stood watching the elevator move to the fourth floor, her chest aching as she wished for just a few more minutes. Every extra second would have been a blessing. Who knew how many more she'd have left with him?

One day in late June, after a particularly lovely night at a free concert in the park, Kojiro and Musashi stood outside her apartment. Musashi was reluctant to leave him, as always, and leaned back against the wall, smiling hopefully at her friend. "Can't we stay out for a little longer?"

"I really should go to bed," he told her. "And so should you. I think these late-night outings are wearing on you a lot more than me."

Musashi covered a yawn. "Don't be silly. Spending time with you is much more important."

Kojiro flushed. "You really think so?"

"Sure do," she said, and his face lit up so bright she couldn't help but smile back. Her happiness fizzled, however, when she glanced at the door behind her. "I'd invite you in, but Nyasu just got back tonight. I'm sure he's exhausted."

"I understand. Like I said, we should rest up, too."

They met for a hug, which wasn't unusual, except that this time neither could seem to let the other one go. The comfortable warmth between them shifted, evolved, humming with nerves and questions. Kojiro reluctantly tried to pull away but Musashi caught his shoulders and they met each other's eyes across a gap of inches, the question becoming an answer, both familiar and strange all at once.

Their foreheads touched, briefly, then uncertainty seemed to overtake Kojiro and he took a hurried step back, smiling shyly. "Er, I should... I mean, we should... Good night, Musashi."

She watched him turn away and felt something sharp jerk inside of her. "Wait!"

He glanced back, puzzled by the panicky note in her voice. Musashi opened her mouth, unsure exactly what she wanted to say, only achingly aware that she wanted to tell him the truth. About what was going on in his word – in her world – in their world, this fragile little world in the shadows.

Didn't he deserve honesty, even if it hurt more than the lies? Should you keep secrets from someone who you...

"Musashi? What's the matter?"

The words stuck in her throat. She couldn't say it. It would only hurt him. And it would probably destroy her, too.

"Nothing," she said. Then, because she had to do something and he was far too close for her to reconsider, she caught his chin between her hands and kissed him quickly on the lips. "I think you forgot to do that, though, so I thought I'd remind you. G'night, Kojiro."

She whirled and darted into her apartment before she could change her mind again, crashing the door shut and leaving what she could only imagine was a very happily baffled Kojiro standing in the hallway.

For once, Nyasu was awake, curled up in a chair and reading a book. "Welcome home. You sure are out late with that new boyfriend of yours a lot. Feels like I hardly ever see you anymo..." He trailed off, noticing Musashi's tight lips and bunched eyebrows. "Hey. What's wrong?"

She blinked at the cat as if just noticing him. "Huh? Why would anything be wrong?"

"You've been acting kinda... different... since you started hanging out with this guy. Are you two doing okay? Most of the time you're excited to meet him, but then you come home so..."

"I'm fine, Nyasu. Everything's fine."

He regarded her for a moment, then clicked his tongue with an angry "tch" and went back to his book. "Right. Of course. You're always fine. Everything's always fine. I don't know why I asked."

She was already moving past him, hurrying towards her bedroom. Once she had the door closed behind her, Musashi collapsed on the bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. She touched a hand to her lips, remembering the brief feel of Kojiro's against them.

Hell. She hadn't expected this.

"Everything's just fine," she murmured, "except that I'm falling in love with a ghost."