Riku's footsteps echoed across the polished marble of the hallway like a lingering, barely audible whisper, as if the mansion itself were breathing with him. The high walls, covered with antique paintings and faded tapestries, seemed to watch him from the shadows with a funereal patience. He had just left the dining room and, with no clear direction, allowed his legs to guide him, as the heavy, dense atmosphere of the place slowly closed around him like an invisible mist.
He passed a large pendulum clock that ticked too slowly, almost mockingly. In front of one of the half-open doors, he caught the voices of two older women laughing in muffled murmurs. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but their tones were so perfectly polite that they felt false, as if each word was carefully rehearsed. Across the corridor, two young people - a thin boy with glasses and a girl with pigtails - were arguing in hushed tones. They seemed to be talking about someone. Riku caught the word "inheritance" before the voices died away, swallowed by the walls.
He kept walking.
A soft gust caressed the back of his neck. It came from no open window, no open door. It was as if the air itself had decided to move. Reaching a fork in the road, he chose the corridor on the left, for no reason, just because something in it seemed to call him. The lights here were dimmer. The old, hanging lamps flickered with a dim warmth that did not quite dispel the shadows.
He passed a room with double doors. Inside, someone was tuning a stringed instrument. The vibrating sound of the notes filled the air with a strange solemnity. Ahead, a half-open door revealed a small private library. Inside, a middle-aged man was talking to himself as he leafed through a thick, dusty tome. "...the tenth circle clause..." he muttered, before closing the book violently.
And then, as the mansion seemed to lose itself in its own endless maze of corridors and secrets, Riku heard something different. A melody.
Soft. Delicate. Strangely familiar.
A children's song.
It was barely a trickle of sound, as if coming from the other side of a wall that was too thick. The tune was cheerful, but also... old. The kind that sounds like someone hummed it in a cradle centuries ago. Something about it pinched a deep part of his memory. He couldn't remember hearing it before, and yet his body tensed as if anticipating something.
His footsteps guided him towards her.
He turned down one last corridor, narrower, without pictures or ornaments. There, at the end, a door. Old. With a worn, golden doorknob. From behind it, the song filtered through, clearer now. And with the music, a faint sound of footsteps on wood... not walking, but dancing.
Riku rested his hand on the knob. He hesitated. He didn't know why he was there or what he expected to find. But he opened it.
The room was large, circular, with tall windows covered by translucent curtains. The wooden floor gleamed as if it had just been polished. And in the centre of the room, in the dim light filtered by the drapes, a girl.
She looked like a princess from ancient fairy tales. Her long dark hair fell like a veil over her white ruffled dress. Her eyes were closed and her lips hummed the song as she slowly twirled. Her hands were raised gracefully, as if taking one invisible partner by the waist and the other by the hand. Her every movement was so perfect, so harmonious, that it seemed she was dancing not alone... but with someone only she could see.
There was nothing ridiculous about the image. It was strange, disturbing even. But not grotesque. It was... beautiful.
And yet, something about it was disturbing.
Riku stood in the doorway, unmoving. He didn't know whether to interrupt her or retreat quietly. But his hands, almost reflexively, began to clap when the song ended. The sound broke the spell of silence.
The girl opened her eyes.
He looked at it.
And he smiled.
There was no surprise on her face. As if she already knew he was there. As if she had known all along.
-Did you like my dance? -she asked sweetly.
Riku did not respond. He couldn't.
-Sometimes I practise alone," she continued, "although father said that dances are for two people. But I think you can also dance with a memory.
Her eyes - deep, almost glowing in the veiled light - watched him without judgement. They just... looked at him.
-Do you want to dance with me? -she finally asked.
Riku took a step back, confused. But the girl just laughed.
-Joking. You're not ready yet.
And then, as if nothing had happened, she circled back on herself, with the grace of a flower floating in the wind. The room filled with silence again.
Riku did not know who this girl was.
But he did know one thing: that song, that smile, and those footsteps he had heard... they were not new to him.
Although I couldn't remember why.