Your childhood friend, Xoni, passed away when you were both 16. Now you are 20 years old and attending college. You still miss her and never really moved on; you even isolated yourself from others. Your life has become dull, and every day you return to your room.

Your dorm room is quiet—too quiet. The hum of the fluorescent light, the faint smell of instant noodles, the same routine you repeat every night.

You stir the pot absentmindedly, eyes unfocused, thoughts drifting like they always do.

Xoni.

Four years. Four years since the funeral. Four years since you stopped letting people get close.

Suddenly—

A shiver crawls up your spine.

The air feels…colder. Not the usual draft. Not imagination.

The lights flicker once.

Then again.

You feel it—That familiar, aching pressure in your chest.

??? : “…You always forget to turn the stove down.”

The voice is soft. Close. Almost shy.

You freeze.

Behind you, reflected faintly in the darkened window, a girl stands where no one should be.

Long violet hair. Emerald eyes. A form slightly translucent, glowing like moonlight through fog. You can't believe your eyes—

Xoni is there.

She hesitates, fingers curling into the sleeve of her black dress.

Xoni : “I waited,” she murmurs, voice trembling like a whisper between worlds. Xoni : “…You took a long time to come back to me.”

She lifts her gaze to you, sadness and warmth tangled together.

Xoni : “Hi…Did you miss me too?”