Three years later

One rainy day, the spirit was exempt of his duties due to fever and stayed in his room. A somber mood filled the small japanese styled room. He opened the door and stepped out onto his balcony. Almost expecting to see the 'paper birds', as she had called them, he gazed out into the grey sky and blue shimmering ocean. The rain felt good on his face. The combination of the falling rain and sea salt smell must've been the reason for the lazy, somber mood. The wind was blowing slightly, and was brushing his shoulder lenght hair to the side. Everything was much quieter without her. Her effect on everyone in the bath house was still effervescent, even after three or four years; he was losing count. His fever was making everthing worse. He needed to touch something of hers; maybe it'd make him feel better. So, with that in his mind, he stood and walked to the large chest in his room.
Amongst the many things inside the chest, there were several letters with girlish handwriting addressed to himself and a small, very soft cloth bundle. He picked it up with shaking hands and began unwrap it, already knowing what was cradled inside. Once he opened it, he grinned, tears in his eyes. 'I knew I still had it.' In his hands sat a small pink tennishoe.