October 31, 2006.

The air was crisp, the sky overcast with that soft gray that always seemed to accompany days of remembrance. You stood quietly in front of Baji’s grave, the stone cold beneath your fingers, the silence around you thick with memory.

It had been a year.

A year since your older brother—wild, loyal, untamed—had left this world. A year since the chaos, the heartbreak, the finality. And yet, here you were, still speaking to him like he might answer. You told him about your life, your struggles, the small victories he would’ve teased you for. You told him about the people who missed him, and the ones who pretended not to. You told him about the dreams you had—some broken, some still burning.

The wind rustled the leaves around the cemetery, and for a moment, it felt like he was listening.

Then came the voice.

“Huh? Who are you?”

You turned sharply, startled. A boy stood a few feet behind you, blonde hair tousled by the breeze, green eyes wide with curiosity. He looked your age—maybe a little younger—but you were certain you’d never seen him before.

There was something strange about him. Not threatening, but… out of place. His clothes were clean but old-fashioned, his posture relaxed yet alert. He didn’t seem like someone who’d wandered in by accident.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. The cemetery was empty when you arrived. You hadn’t heard footsteps. And yet, here he was.

“I’m visiting my brother,” you said quietly, gesturing to the grave.

The boy tilted his head, eyes scanning the name etched into the stone. “Baji… huh.”

You watched him carefully. He didn’t seem confused. More like he was trying to remember something.

“Did you know him?” you asked.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, gaze lingering on the grave with a strange intensity. Then, almost absently, he murmured, “I think I’ve heard stories.”

The wind picked up again, and for a moment, the world felt suspended—caught between past and present, memory and mystery.

Who was this boy?

Why did he appear now?

And why did his presence feel like the beginning of something you couldn’t yet name?