At night, Ronwa had just finished her delicious dinner and joyous moments with her mother, and she entered her room still cheerful, moving lightly from one place to another, as if her heart were floating in the air, filled with the threads of happiness that filled her. She quietly closed the door and sat on her bed, placing her hands on her cheeks, wondering at this wonderful day.

  She lay on her back and stared at the white ceiling, and her mind couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother had said about Akamori Onkayo, the writer who carried an indescribable love in her heart. Her whispers began to leak into the room as if calling someone... "Lucas..."

  It felt as if she were addressing the void, but at that moment, and with great calm, Lucas appeared, floating in the air beside her, his hands behind his head as if in a pleasant rest, with a serene smile on his face. Ron, on the other hand, sat in the chair next to her, holding an old book in his hands, his eyes carefully scanning the pages.

  "Do you know Mr. Akamori?" Ronwa whispered as if speaking to herself, eager to learn more about this writer who had become such an important part of her life.

  "I know him... quite well." Lucas answered in a calm voice, seeming to enjoy talking about the past. He then added, as he gazed at the book in his hands: "This writer, Akamori Onkayo, was part of my life when I was human."

  Ronwa stopped moving and focused on his words, while Ron raised his eyes from the book and gave a brief glance towards Lucas.

  "How?" Ronwa asked in surprise.

  "It was a long time ago, in the days when I was human... I lived in a small house on top of the mountain with my family." Lucas began recounting the story, floating almost imperceptibly in the air. "One day, a Japanese man came to our house , he was nineteen years old, carrying a collection of books and writing tools. His name was Akamori Onkayo, and he was known for traveling places, searching for new sources of inspiration. When he arrived at our house, he wrote several works."

  "This book, the one you love so much, was one of those books Akamori brought with him. When I read it for the first time, I felt something strange in my heart... It carried a special feeling I had never felt before. It became my companion, my refuge in moments of loneliness." Lucas added as he reminisced about his human days.

  "It brought happiness to my heart." Lucas said quietly, his voice mingling with deep memories. "And here is the same book, the one I used to read in those days, now in your hands."

  Ronwa was astonished by Lucas words. She now saw him not just as a passing ghost, but as a being who had lived a life filled with memories. It seemed Lucas had carried a part of his past in this story, making it a part of Ronwa's reality in a way she hadn't expected.

  "This book... it holds many things." Ronwa said with a quieter tone, smiling with her eyes. "I think I understand now why this book is tied to all these memories."

  "Yes," Lucas said, smiling at her, "this book holds power within its pages. And that power lies in its words, in the unforgettable stories."

  In the quiet room lit by dim lights, Ronwa lay on her bed, the blanket in her hands, while Ron sat in the chair by the window, staring at her with eyes filled with warmth and concern.

  "How did that book come to you?" he asked in a low voice, as if not wanting his words to disturb the stillness of the night.

  Ronwa gazed at the ceiling for a moment and then said softly, as if diving into her memories:

  "I was only five... I was playing with my friend Lilia near the little lake... the one behind the forest, a few steps from the village..."

  She sighed, then continued:

  "I slipped and fell into the river... the water was so cold, and I was screaming... I remember seeing the sky fade above me."

  She paused for a moment, closed her eyes, and then said:

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "There... in the depths... I saw it, that book, between the rocks... I don't know why, but I reached for it... I held onto it tightly, even when they saved me, it was still in my hand... as if I clung to life through it."

  A deep silence settled.

  Then Lucas's voice interrupted, quietly, almost inaudible, but filled with the weight of memories. He was floating above the ground, but his head was bowed, his voice wrapped in sadness:

  "That place... that lake..."

  He slowly lifted his eyes, looked at Ronwa, and then said:

  "I died there."

  Ronwa froze in place, her eyes widening, while Ron turned to look at Lucas with seriousness and calm.

  "When I was human... Mr. Akamori suddenly disappeared, without a word... without a trace."

  Lucas sighed, as if his heart still carried the disappointment of that day.

  "I searched for him everywhere... in the forest, the corridors, around the mountain, in all the places we used to visit... but there was no sign of him. I felt empty, lost..."

  Then he moved a little closer, his eyes fixated on the undying past:

  "I reached the cliff... the sky was clouded over, and the winds howled as if they were crying with me... I stood there, holding the book he had given me... I clung to it as if it were the last piece of my world."

  He paused for a moment, then whispered in a broken voice:

  "Then someone pushed me... I didn't see them clearly... and before I could comprehend what happened... I fell."

  Silence enveloped them.

  "I drowned in the lake... I wasn’t afraid, I was just... sad... about everything I left behind, about the words I never said, and the books I never wrote. And the book, the book that's in your hands... it was the only thing I didn't let go."

  He lowered his gaze, as if a weight was pulling him toward the ground, though he didn't touch it:

  "My soul... it clung to it. The memory, the pain, the longing trapped within it. And from that day... I've been stuck in it."

  Ronwa gazed at him with tearful eyes, never expecting that the story of her favorite book... was the tragedy of a lost soul.

  Ron, on the other hand, slowly closed his book, set it aside, and murmured:

  "This book isn't just filled with words... but with souls."

  At that moment, it felt as if the room suddenly grew cold... as if everything in it carried the scent of an unforgotten past...

  But amid all that sorrow, Ronwa looked at the book on her table... and smiled gently.

  "I think... now I understand why I love it so much."

  Lucas looked at her, his eyes glowing faintly... not in happiness, but in deep gratitude.

  Because that child... had restored his voice to his soul, and to the story... its soul.

  Lucas nodded, still floating above the ground, his hands clasped behind his head, but this time he appeared serious, unlike his usual playful self.

  "Therefore..." he said in a calm voice, yet filled with determination,

  "I will accompany you tomorrow, Ronwa. It doesn't matter that I'm a ghost... or that no one can see me, what's important is that I see him. Even if only for a moment."

  His voice carried a deep longing, as if this awaited meeting wasn't just to see a person, but to see a whole life that had passed... an old dream whose door had never been closed.

  A light silence followed, and then Ron spoke, glancing sideways at Lucas, his tone calmer than usual:

  "How long has it been since the accident...?"

  Lucas lowered his gaze for a moment, as if recalling old calculations, then raised his hand and began counting on his fingers one by one, slowly saying:

  "About... twenty years."

  Ron widened his eyes slightly in quiet astonishment, then muttered:

  "So... he’ll be old."

  Ronwa laughed lightly as she imagined the old Mr. Akamori, with his distinctive hat that she had drawn countless times in her imagination, and his light mustache that she had seen in the printed pictures on the cover of her book.

  She then said with a soft smile, holding her pillow and sinking into the warm covers:

  "It's okay if he's old... I’ll still love his books as if they were treasures... and tomorrow, I'll have him sign my book... and I'll give it to you, Lucas."

  Lucas looked at her with gentle surprise, then laughed his soft laugh and said:

  "Oh, I'll hang it on the walls of my soul!"

  The house quieted deep into the night, and the wind passed gently between the branches of the surrounding trees, emitting soft whispers as if singing the night to sleep.

  Ronwa lay in her little bed, her eyes closing slowly, while her mother whispered a story from the pages of her favorite book. Her voice was warm, tender, like a distant longing. She didn't finish the story, for **Ronwa** had fallen asleep before it ended... she drifted off, a small smile on her lips, and covered herself up to her neck.

  Outside, on the rooftop of the house, Ron stood alone, moonlight washing over his pale face, the breeze playing with the edges of his clothes. He was still—?as if time had stopped with him.

  Then he whispered in a faint voice, barely audible:

  "It's the scent… of a Key Bearer ghost."

  His eyes narrowed slightly, as if following a trail unseen.

  Moments later, Lucas appeared beside him, floating silently as he always did, though this time he wasn’t joking or spinning around.

  "Who do you think it is?" he asked quietly.

  Ron replied without turning, his voice a mixture of caution and focus:

  "I don't know… I truly don't know."

  A heavy silence fell between them, unbroken by any words. Only the night breeze spoke, wrapping around them with a mysterious gentleness, as if something in the dark was watching…

  But within that silence, both of them knew—?the appearance of a Key Bearer ghost, at this exact moment, could not be a mere coincidence.