"This word... how should it... be read?"
A world apart from the bustling world outside, the quiet library felt like a pristine sanctuary untouched by earthly concerns.
The ghost girl, dressed in a semi-transparent mist-like gown with her hair in a ponytail, asked in a slightly unclear voice.
Unlike when she first met her, when she could only say 'sister,' she could now express complete thoughts.
Every time she read, the ghost girl would emerge from the mirror, come to her side, tilt her head, and follow along with the words on the page.
Over time, Sunday Serenity would occasionally point at the text and casually teach her a few phrases.
Who would have thought that the next time she saw the same words, she could already recite them.
This rate of progress was astonishing.
Going from not being able to speak a sentence to recognizing words and remembering their pronunciations took less than a day.
Could memory differ even among ghosts?
Holding this thought, Sunday Serenity taught her a few more characters. As expected, the ghost sister remembered them all.
"This child... could she be a genius?"
The reason she hadn't learned to speak for so long was completely because in this lightless ghost world, no one had ever given her proper guidance.
Once someone started teaching her, she would absorb knowledge like a dry sponge soaking up water, making it her own.
Looking at the ghost with her pure, clear eyes, Sunday Serenity suddenly had an idea.
Since she always stuck around anyway, why not teach her proper conversation? It would be much better than her constantly calling out 'sister, sister'—being able to understand her was far better than guessing all the time.
So during breaks, Sunday Serenity would casually teach her characters. When she got busy, Sunday Silence would take over.
She couldn't see the ghost, but she could touch her normally.
Holding the ghost's hand, she would guide it to point at the words, teaching her phrase by phrase on Sunday Serenity's behalf.
During daytime hours, when she had matters to attend to outside, the ghost would return to the mirror.
When she returned to the library, the ghost would eagerly rush out again and lean close beside her.
She was somewhat becoming the library's resident earthbound spirit.
There was no helping it. If she took her outside, how would she explain it to Manhattan Cafe? And if they encountered Copano Rickey, would she take drastic action and exorcise this harmless ghost on the spot?
And it wasn't just Copano Rickey; Matikanefukukitaru also seemed sensitive to ghosts.
Only the library, treated as a forbidden zone by spirit wards that kept all exorcists away, was the safest place for a ghost.
Sitting at the desk, Sunday Silence answered the ghost's questions in Sunday Serenity's place.
After such a long time together, the ghost had grown accustomed to Sunday Silence's presence—an entity she couldn't see but could touch.
Not only that, she seemed to have grown fond of the physical contact that came with Sunday Silence's teaching.
Sunday Serenity had read research that mentioned:
The more lonely a person is, the more profound the sensation of physical contact.
Whether this statement was accurate aside, there was one undeniable phenomenon.
Contact with normal humans would scorch her soul, but touching certain ghosts could feel warm.
When Sunday Silence had held her that first time, she had felt the warmth emanating from within her.
Where did that warmth come from? Body temperature? Soul temperature? Or some other reason...
Sunday Serenity didn't know.
"Then, what about this character?"
Her hand pointed to the adjacent spot.
Aside from a few particularly complex characters, she could now read an entire book almost perfectly.
Having never studied grammar or similar knowledge, she could make her speech logical just by learning words from books.
"My other half, this little one might actually memorize the trainer knowledge before you do, you know."
Hearing Sunday Silence's teasing words, Sunday Serenity slapped the table.
After all, going from failing an exam to passing required only minimal effort. But improving from a passing grade demanded several times more time and energy than before.
No wonder they said Tracen was an elite academy. To become a trainer, you needed to reach a level close to perfect scores.
And Sunday Serenity, who had just barely scraped past the passing line, perfectly illustrated Sunday Silence's point.
She was still far from being a qualified trainer.
"Can't be helped, I'm just no good with this memorization stuff..."
Since she's this smart, maybe I should have her write my future trainer exam answers and any anonymous letters too.
Seeing the black-haired Sunday Serenity slumped over the desk, the ghost sister reached out and stroked her head.
"It's okay... I can... teach you..."
She spoke slowly, as if thinking while talking.
"'My other half'... is amazing... You will definitely learn..."
"I'm afraid she's my other half, not yours," Sunday Silence corrected from beside them.
Perhaps it was because of her way of addressing her that the ghost sister had unconsciously started using 'My other half' as Sunday Serenity's name.
"That's right, little one. You should properly call people by their names."
"Name..." She blinked. "'My other half's' name is...?"
"Those two characters are quite difficult to read. You need to remember them carefully," Sunday Serenity said. "I am..."
She opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat.
"I am...?"
She clutched her head, her eyebrows gradually knitting together.
"How strange—"
Why? Why couldn't she remember her own name?
The name that had been with her her entire life. Why! How could she possibly forget it!?
"What in the world?"
"You've forgotten," Sunday Silence spoke. "So quickly."
"You know about this?"
"Ghosts... gradually forget things they don't need."
If their subconscious deems something unimportant, they slowly forget it.
Humans have a similar phenomenon—they gradually forget things they don't use for a long time.
But there's one decisive difference between ghosts and humans.
What ghosts can forget isn't just memories.
They can forget how to use their bodies, forget how to see the world.
They can forget how to think, forget language, forget how to communicate.
They can even, ultimately, forget themselves.
"Sunday Serenity. This is your name. If you feel this name is important to you, keep it in your heart. If you feel having no name doesn't matter, then it's fine to forget it."
Hearing those two familiar words, the lost memories finally returned to her mind.
"Sun... day Ser... enity..." she repeated, her pronunciation unclear.
"I remember now!"
"Good." She didn't bother correcting her further. "But I'm surprised you remembered, when even I forgot."
"Of course," Sunday Silence said.
After all, you are my other half.
How could I possibly forget anything about you?
--+--
T/N: Normally, in third person view it's supposed to be Muxuan, even if she didn't remember her own name, but since I changed it, just think of Sunday Silence just making up a name.
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.