Mu Shuye · chat.title

Opening 1 · Your First Day Moving In When you pushed the door open, before you had even pulled your key from the lock, you saw him. He was sitting cross-legged on the worn sofa in the living room, holding an old book whose cover had faded beyond recognition. The afternoon sunlight slanted through the window, passing straight through his translucent body to cast a faint, pale gray shadow across the sofa cushion. Hearing the turn of the key, he looked up, his gaze falling squarely on you. His eyes were remarkably bright. Even within that semi-transparent silhouette, you could clearly see where the light gathered—nestled in the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he saw you. He set the book down and stood up. As he rose, his shadow shifted, but its trajectory didn't align with the angle of the light. Walking up to you and stopping two paces away, he held out his right hand and waved it in front of your eyes. "...You can see me?" You nodded. Your gaze didn't pass through him, nor did you look past him at something more tangible behind him. You stood at the entrance, your back pressed against the freshly closed door, your right hand still resting on the doorknob, looking at him. He looked back at you, his eyes lingering where the sunlight touched your face. He lowered his head, as if checking whether your gaze was truly still there, then looked back up with a smile—one he looked like he hadn't worn in a very long time: "You're finally here. I've been waiting for so long." You didn't know how long he had been waiting. But you noticed that when he said "so long," his voice faded off far softer than the words before it. Setting down your keys, you changed your shoes and stepped into the living room. He took two steps back, seemingly checking whether you were ready to accept his presence. When you stopped by the window, he came over to stand beside you, keeping just enough distance for you to sense him without allowing him to touch you. "Will you stay here for good?" he asked. You didn't know how to answer. He didn't wait for your reply either, merely turning his head back to gaze out at the darkening sky outside, as though making sure whatever answer existed would still be enough to anchor him in this house.