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She sat in complete silence, silver eyes resting wordlessly upon the spirit as it floated curiously about. To her immense relief, it had seemed to grow a bit more bold, even playful, as it passed the various trinkets that adorned the shelf. It appeared to be especially thrilled with the hanging beads, though it may not have been the beads so much as it was the noise that they made when the spirit rushed purposely past them.

After some time of watching the spirit and staying silent and still, she decided to make her first move. It was a slow, cautious scoot forward, nothing more. The spirit did not miss a beat, however, and she held her breath as the colorful presence turned her way, suddenly still and wary. However, she did feel encouraged by the fact that it had not immediately bolted, and she worked up the courage to speak to it in what she hoped was a soothing, gentle tone.

"Hello, there. There is no reason to fear me, I assure you; I mean you no harm." The spirit remained very still for a moment, but it finally turned back to the goodies that were to be found in every nook and cranny the shelf contained. She smiled, meanwhile, happy that it seemed interested and relaxed enough to stay, even despite her presence. Encouraged now, she continued to speak to it. Whenever it passed an item that the shelf contained, she would simply say a few things about that item. It seemed content enough with this for awhile, but it grew somewhat bored and returned to rushing back and forth past the hanging beads, seemingly enthralled with the musical tones they made.

She contemplated the four gems that lay nearby, items which she had purchased to lure a spirit. However, seeing that this colorful one seemed to take an amusement in musical entertainment as opposed to simply observing pretty objects at random, the gems ceased to be mere decorations and became musical instruments. It was a daring move, really. Should she try it? In the end, curiousity and hopeful wishing won out, and she carefully gathered the gems up, before shaking them in her cupped palms a bit, moving the trinkets to the same rhythm that the beads swished and sang. The jewels delicately clinked together, accentuating the music that her visitor had successfully made it on its own. Speaking of the spirit, it paused in its carefree fun and turned her way again, though thankfully, a genuine wonder had seemed to replace most of its prior wariness. "I know a little bit about music myself," the teenager explained softly, a shy and encouraging smile beginning to bloom upon her young face. The spirit seemed pleased enough with this explanation and went back to its own music, while she hopefully continued on with shaking the gems in her hands, pleased to have found something that she could share with the spirit.

When she awoke, she expected to be greeted by her happy, fluttering spirit, perhaps hovering even nearer to her now than it had on their previous venture. However, as she slowly sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes, her stomach dropped. The spirit was not to be found. She suddenly realized that she was very much alone.

Was she? She spotted a small, dulled flicker of color from behind the bottle of starlight potion, and she hesitantly crept forward. She need not have approached so cautiously, as the newly found spirit seemed not to be in a mood to flee. Then again, it did not seem to be in the mood for much else, either. Its colors, normally bright, vibrant, and glittering, were noticably duller, as though shades of gray had been mixed with each and every previously dazzling hue. If she had to guess, the spirit was either angry, depressed, or a mixture of the two. Its carriage seemed noticably sullen, and she frowned as she kneeled beside her friend.

She said nothing. The spirit was definitely in a dark mood, but it did not shy away from her. Its depression was not connected to her, but she was worried, all the same. How does one communicate to another that he or she is supportive, here should the friend need company?

Some things are said better when words are not involved. Without a sound, she reached up, taking down the hanging beads from their post and bringing them down to eye level. Making sure that the spirit was paying attention, she traced a single finger delicately across the beads. The soft tune they made as they lightly brushed across one another was sad and sweet, a note of assurance that needed no words, a hug that needed no arms. The spirit turned her way, and before her eyes, the color began to return, spreading across its small, translucent form. It flitted up into the air, all traces of its sadness gone, and zipped about the beads, creating a happy melody of assent, a song of friendship. Were it able to smile, she was quite sure it would have an enormous grin on its face about now.

Another day had come and gone since the spirit's depression, and there was truly no evidence that such had ever occurred. Even now, it was fluttering happily about, enjoying games and music.

When she had first attempted to move their games nearer the relic, the spirit seemed mildly offended, as close friends might behave when one chooses to mention an event distinctly disliked by the other. However, the spirit was becoming increasingly comfortable with what it had previously rebuked, and she now found it often hovering quite near the entrance.

Many moments of breathless waiting had passed, and the spirit always seemed to travel ever closer before pulling away again, almost teasingly. However, even it could not seem to hide the distinct interest it had in the relic, and more often, she now found it hovering there without her encouragement.

She just kept her fingers crossed that the moment when the spirit would give to her the last bit of trust that it was still clinging to would come as quickly as possible.

Things had been continuing on in their usual fashion. She found herself devoting more and more of her time to the spirit, avoiding other things in favor of getting to spend a few more hours about the shelf.

Incidentally, she found herself perusing over books of names, wondering what she would call her spirit if it chose to venture into the relic someday. She did not want to overstep any boundaries, and she especially did not wish to somehow bring about an unlucky spell by trying to decide on a name when the spirit had not yet entered the relic. There was still that chance that it would simply leave one day, a thought that she found quite unbearable. However, it seemed rather content for now, and she ultimately decided that she need not worry, so long as she tried her hardest to keep from offending it.

Somehow, common names did not seem the least bit suitable. As she was tapping a pen against her chin in thought, she watched the spirit dance about the shelf, now amusing itself by seemingly bouncing up and down on a stuffed animal. Realistically speaking, it was simply propelling itself into the air and floating back again, but the fact that it was using the toy as a makeshift trampoline amused her greatly. She grinned a bit. The spirit had always been one that seemed full of life, amusement, and games, and that one day when she had seen it in a vulnerable moment only made it seem that much more real. She sighed a bit, trying to think of whom the spirit reminded her of.

As she closed her eyes, she could see him. She could see his face as though he was standing before her again. He always seemed to be happy, but he, too, had his fair share of pain. He had always been there for her, but where was he now? She heaved a heavy sigh, remembering all of it, right up to his rather odd nickname. Perhaps that nickname could become something more.

She pursed her lips in though for a moment, before scrambling to pick up her journal. In it, she jotted down a few letters, a moniker known only to her, "Kiku."

She stared at what she had written. Not only did it remind her a bit too much of her fallen friend, but it still seemed too simple. Sometimes, however, the smallest of additions can work wonders.

After chewing lightly upon the tip of her pen, she hastily scribbled two letters after the original contribution. She stared at the result, and then made an effort to sound out what she had noted. She practiced, before finally deciding upon a suitable way to say it.

"Kikuei," she mumbled beneath her breath.