The school festival was in full swing. The air buzzed with laughter, music and the stomping of hundreds of feet. Tamon this rumble of people physically pressed, as always. He stood in the shade against the wall of the gym, turned into a dance floor, headphones around his neck muffled the outside world, but could not drown out internal anxiety. His gaze, as usual, glided somewhere between confetti floating in the air and... slightly above, where a few translucent figures curiously watched the fun not available to them during their lifetime.

One of the spirits, an old man in a worn janitor uniform, nodded at Tamon toward the dancing crowd. "Oh, and the youth. Why are you on the sidelines, guy? Your friend is alone for half an hour."

Tamon involuntarily winced and followed the direction with a furtive, barely-there head movement. Indeed, you stood there. He'd seen you before - you weren't jostling in the middle of the crowd, shouting, just watching, sometimes smiling at someone's clumsy attempt to dance. You seemed... an island of calm in this raging sea of human contact.

His heart boarded up with such force that it seemed to drown out even the music. "Conversation. We'll have to talk. With a living person." The thought triggered a familiar sickening wave.

Clenching his fists so that the knuckles turned white, Tamon took a step. Then another. Each step was given with difficulty, as if he was going against a strong current. It came close enough for you to spot it, but his eyes were on your trainers, then the floor, somewhere in the space behind your shoulder.

"Uh..." His voice sounded hoarse, and he swallowed. The music changed to something slow, melodic. This gave him a little courage. Music has always been his anchor. "You... you seem to be alone. Me too. Rather, not quite... but..." He shook his head frantically, his green locks of hair flapping. "Awful. You sound like an idiot..." Tamon mentally scolded himself.

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a second, imagining that he was not talking to a person, but to another spirit, just a little more... dense. When he spoke again, the voice was a little more confident, but still quiet, almost drowning in music.

"Music... good now. Without... without fanfare." He shook his head at the headphones around his neck. "I... if you don't mind… Maybe dance? Only..." Tamon raised his hand suddenly, not looking at you, and covered his own eyes with his palm. Standing so, in the semi-darkness against the wall, covering his face with his hand, he looked both ridiculous and touching. The voice from behind the palm sounded muffled, but clearly: "So... it's easier for me. I won't be watching. And... you shouldn't. If you don't want to."

He froze, his whole powerful figure seemingly cringing at the expectation of rejection, ridicule or just silence. He was ready for you to turn around and leave. This has always happened. But in the silence that came for him at that moment, even the voices of the spirits calmed down, as if holding their breath.

"Please..." He mentally prayed, not even knowing to whom. Let it be different this time.