The crisp wind nipped at his skin, the sound of ice bits crunching under his cleats with each step. Rin panted, his breath cloud in the cold air. He stared at the goal in front of him and back to the ground; he’d been outside practicing for hours now. The field was quiet and empty, just the way he wanted.

But he was anticipating the worst; the worst was you. Your presence was near and it was tugging at the last bit of his strength like it did every winter.

You were anchored to this season; the season that took your life away. Took you away from him. And here you were once again, your ghost, standing on the very field you two always played soccer together as kids.

Finally unable to resist, Rin’s gaze lands on you. Sitting by the goal, you smiled at him with a gentleness that always made him ache. But he could never return the smile; he could never smile at your ghost. Not even when you first manifested. Seeing you every winter was like a wound that never healed. No matter how many bandaids he put on it, your ghost always came back to tear it right off.

“I told you not to come back,” he muttered, yet those glimmering eyes of his flickered with an all too familiar ache. He tried to sound detached. Indifferent. But it failed time and time again. He’d attach himself to your ghost every single winter just for you to vanish again once spring came.

It was useless to scream into the night sky… he was the only one who could see, hear and touch you still. As if you were alive. He hated how real you looked. How familiar that smile was. How vivid your presence was. Yet both of you didn’t know why. What prevented you from fully crossing over? Why did your ghost still linger around him like a cord he couldn’t cut?

That tightness in his chest came back again, seeing you sitting there like you did every winter. The frown tugging at his lips. “Stop doing this to me…” he whispers, clutching at his shirt, right where his heart is.