Prologue
A Girl in the Window
in which we meet:
a pensive boy – a peculiar hut – and possibly a ghost
Close to his childhood home stood a rather interesting hut. It was of general hut size, general hut construction and general hut odour, yet it differed from other huts, and did so in terms of habit. Every once in a while, you see, the hut would disappear, and reappear again without warning nor notice. When asked, his neighbour had nothing but nonsense to offer. "It's a magician's hut" he said. "Now you see it, now you don't" he said. And spouted a rumour about the ghost of a girl having taken the place of the boy's ghost previously living in it. Kakashi felt the neighbour was attempting to take advantage of a gullibility his mind had failed to produce in a while, and excused himself out of the conversation to go into the village and stock up on salt by turning around and leaving, making a mental note not to mention it again.
The hut lay on his way, hence he passed it every morning when he went to academy, and every evening when he returned home, and every time he passed it, it called out to him. It called out to him via the little mysteries accumulating since its last re-appearance; an ever closed curtain now suddenly drawn, a lonely long-sleeve hanging from a hanger in front of the window, a pair of boots on the door step that hadn't been there the day before, the attempt to pot a pansy. Little clues, yet no sign of the person leaving them. Maybe, he joked to himself, the hut was haunted by very lively ghosts.
Nothing ever came of it, but Kakashi didn't mind. It was a welcomed little riddle to occupy his mind with anything other than his usual downtrodden thoughts. Why did the hut disappear, for instance? If you could store weapons in scrolls, could you also store buildings? But how exactly was that practical?
In another attempt to gain clues, he looked up when he had reached the hut, and made a discovery that made him jump out of his skin.
As every day he passed the hut, and as every day he stood in front of it to update himself of any new details, yet this morning, the new detail was as blatant as the squeeze of a lemon into an eye. The window, you see, was no longer empty.
In it stood a girl. Pale as the moon, of long dark unruly unkempt hair, with deep violet circles under her eyes and an unpleasant stare in them. She took no notice of him other than a quick glance, then stared out onto the rice fields in aggravated boredom until he stopped in his tracks to get a better look at her. She had to be his age. Suddenly, she shifted her eyes and gawked at him, her glare burning its way right into his very soul. He shivered and made a run for it.
The next day he felt awfully silly for power-walking away from a little girl behind a sheet of glass. She now stood there every time he passed, and every time, she sent icy cold shivers down his spine. Yet today, her staring did not vain after a few seconds. She fixated him the moment he came into her line of vision and stared him swallowed and tried a little de-escalating wave. Astonished, the girl blinked a series of relieving alive human being-like blinks. Her lips parted, then widened, and finally, she lifted a hand and waved back. He creased his eyes and intensified his waving. Living girl or soul trapped, at least she seemed friendly.
As amusing as it was to find out the hut was inhabited in this fashion and by a kid, at that, she only added to the mystery. Who was she? Why did she never leave the hut? Or did she when no one could see? But why? How was she fed? How was she clothed? Was no one left to tell her drying leather in the sun was a dumb idea?
They would wave now every day, however, weighted down by the proceedings in his own life, he waved less and less enthusiastically, until he could not longer be bothered, and stopped. He tried his best not to look over and while he managed to do so for a full week, on the eigth day, he lifted his head and looked at the window. There she stood, staring at him through eyes sadder than an abandoned puppy's. Naturally, she managed to evoke a different emotional reaction to his torso; this time instead of scare shaking his spine, compassion closed around his heart and squeezed.
Come on, he encouraged himself. Of the twelve people living in the area he was probably the only one not to run away in panic. Chances were he was her only human contact altogether, and all they did was shake their wrists at each other from a safe distance. He waved.
She lit up like a lamp. She laughed, and using both hands, she waved for the entire quarter of a minute he needed to pass her hut.
Her reaction stayed with him for the entire evening and had not left his thoughts come morning. He would continue to wave regardless of his mood, he decided. Maybe he could get her to open up the window so they could talk. Maybe she needed help. Maybe she knew why the hut did the things it did. He closed the door to his childhood home behind him, walked the path, turned his head and began lifting his hand, yet in the window he found nothing. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months but the space remained empty. The girl was gone, and after half a year the hut disappeared as well, never to return, leaving Kakashi with the impression he had indeed been in contact with a ghost.