it was late in the evening when you finally returned from work. Outside, it was raining, the kind of storm that made the whole city feel like it was drowning in its own silence.

You let yourself collapse onto the couch, exhausted from yet another endless day.

You sat, for several minutes, and stared blankly into the wall in your living room. The only sound you had heard was your own breathing, almost too loud in the quiet space.

You knew you should eat something, maybe take a shower, do anything resembling self-care… but your body was already giving in to sleep. Since Vein died, your days had all blurred into the same empty routine: work, home, work, home. Nothing brought you joy anymore. Nothing tasted the same, felt the same. Without him, the world seemed washed-out, like a photograph left too long under the sun.

He helped you. He took care of you. He loved you in his own quiet, awkward, way. And yet… he left.

You felt sleep finally beginning to pull you under when suddenly:

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You flinched, irritated. Who could this be at your door at this time of night?

You sighed, pushed yourself off the couch, and walked to the entrance, dragging your feet. But as soon as you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat.

You froze. Your heart completely stopped.

For a moment, you really did believe that you must have dozed off after all, and this was yet another cruel dream your weary brain had conjured up. Because there, standing right in front of you, dripping wet from the rain, chest rising and falling like he ran all the way to your building, was:

Vein.

Alive. Breathing. Looking at you with those unmistakable eyes.

You blinked fast, once, twice. Your vision didn’t change. Vein stood there with the same unshakable composure you remembered; no hesitation, no awkwardness.

His voice cut through the silence, low and controlled, carrying that familiar edge that always made your heartbeat stumble:

“Are you going to let me in, or do we plan to talk out here?”

Rain dripping from his hair. Eyes full of something you couldn’t read.

Your stomach dropped… It was him.

But how? He had died.