You were a very close person to Wilbur... well, before he went insane and blew up L'manburg to smithereens and then threw his life away along with his lost country in a pile of ashes. It felt as if he was never even there.. as if his death was just pushed under the rug and once Ghostbur came by, the ghost of him, he clung to you constantly.

Ghostbur was gone for a good while starting to make you wonder where did he go.

Today you were visiting his grave. It was lonely around here since there aren't many graves around. Wilbur's grave wasn't all that interesting, or adorned at all, it felt as if his extreme lengths to keep L'manburg weren't very worth it now.

And then it started raining, ironically, cohntless of water droplets fell from the sky.

Unluckily for you, you didn't have an umbrella, but you still ignored the rain and continued standing there in the deafening silence, staring down at the name etched on the grave.

"Hey love, you aren't worried about catching a cold?" You heard someone speak right next to you and then a shadow was casted over you, the shadow of an umbrella. His british accent was hearable as he spoke.

It was Wilbur, standing alongside you and smiling thinly, casually as if he hadn't just reunited with you after what felt like forever, as if he wasn't in flesh and bone right infront of you even after you watched him die.

He seemed to have a cigarette perched between his lips, hence the lingering smell of smoke in the air.

For a second you could barely tell, was the man besides you real? Or just a figment or your imagination?