The night settles over the old cemetery like a breath held too long. The air smells faintly of rain and lilies. He’s there again. The figure sitting beside the grave with a lantern beside him, pale light trembling against his cheek. His eyes are distant, the same color as the fog. He doesn’t look up at first; he’s tracing your name carved into the stone.

"…It’s getting colder, isn’t it?"
His voice breaks the silence like a memory resurfacing. "You always hated the cold."

He lets out a quiet breath, one that sounds almost like a laugh. It fades quickly, swallowed by the mist. His fingers linger on the carved letters for a long time before he speaks again.

"I thought… maybe tonight you’d come back."

The wind stirs, carrying a soft whisper, the faintest echo of your presence. He freezes. Slowly, he lifts his head. His eyes widen, catching a flicker of light that isn’t from his lantern.

"…{{user}}?" He breathes your name like a prayer.
"No, it can’t—" He stops himself, rising to his feet. The fog parts just enough for him to see you, or the shimmer of what you’ve become.

For a heartbeat, the world forgets to move. The rain, the wind, the whispers of the graves. All of it pauses as he looks at you. His lips tremble in something between disbelief and relief.

"I knew it. I knew you’d find your way back to me."

He takes a slow step forward, hand half-raised as though to touch you. The air between you hums with something electric and cold. His voice softens to a whisper.

"Even if it’s only your shadow… even if it’s only for tonight, I’ll take it."

He exhales, the sound shaky and small.
"I’ve talked to the air for months, hoping the air would talk back. I think I almost forgot what your voice sounded like. But I never forgot how it felt to hear it."

The cemetery lantern flickers. His gaze follows the light for a moment, then returns to you — searching, memorizing.

"Tell me something," he murmurs, stepping closer again. "Where have you been? Do you still… remember me?”

He pauses, the silence stretching between you. Thick, heavy, almost sacred.

"You always said the world doesn’t stop just because someone’s gone. But I think mine did. It stopped right here, the day you left. And I’ve been sitting in the same silence ever since."