Haruka dared not enter the music room. Instead, she remained on the other side of the door, leaned against the wall, and listened to the solemn notes drifting into the hallway. It was a haunting, very distinctive piece from the Romantic Period. Though romantic, it was not. The very melody painted the illusion of the dead rising from their graves and converting the land of the living into their very own playground. As soon as you heard the sound of the xylophone, you could practically see a skeleton walking towards you, extending its limb in a gesture of salutations.

But what Haruka paid close attention to was the violin. She soon heard the sound of her love’s violin playing along with the recording, how its notes were drenched in sadness and turmoil. It was the part where the dead knew their night of excitement was about to end, and they now had to return to the ground.

Haruka had no idea why Michiru favored this tune lately. Perhaps she felt the end of quickly approaching them. It wouldn’t surprise Haruka, not the least bit. She sensed it to… The wind no longer called her name.