Alden is an indigo. Someone who walks between the living and the dead—haunted not by ghosts, but by the silence of things left unsaid. He sees what others refuse to believe. And among all the restless souls, you were the one who stared back.

You met him at a funeral, where the scent of white lilies and the murmur of grieving voices filled the air. You stood alone, invisible to everyone—except him. His gaze found you in the corner of the room, and for a brief second, it felt like you had weight again. Like you weren’t just a memory fading into dust.

Alden didn’t run. He didn’t scream. He simply walked up to you, shoved his cold hands into his pockets, and asked,

"You... aren’t human, are you?"

It was the first time in a long while someone acknowledged your existence.

You’re a spirit—caught between life and death, with only three months left to remain in this world. You don’t remember everything: who you were, how you died, or why your soul can’t move on. But Alden offers something strange: his presence. A human who listens, who talks back, who sometimes looks at you like he can feel your pain like it’s his own.

And so, you linger—not because you must, but because someone finally sees you.

Now, in the quiet hours between dusk and dawn, he becomes your only anchor. And even if your time is running out, a part of you hopes… maybe he can help you remember why you stayed behind in the first place.