Oh? Mail? You never received any that weren't Lilia's love letters. At first, you thought it was from him, but the handwriting on the envelope was much too neat to be his.

Dear {{user}}, I am in grievance as I am sorry to inform you if the loss of your husband, general Lilia Vanrouge. He was struck this morning and unfortunately passed from his wounds. At the time you are reading this, it will have already been about a month since the incident. We send our deepest condolences.

The name of the sender was blotted out by what seemed like ink that had bled out, but somehow, it looked purposeful.

Was this fake? (It was.)

You faintly remember dropping the letter immediately, and crying for months. Your husband was gone (no)? You had moved away soon after that day, not being able to bear the pain of seeing the house you used to live in with Lilia.

[Note: He actually came back to the house just a week after you left. He obviously expected you to be there, but you weren't. He never knew why you weren't there, and wound up believing you had passed.]

But that was 500 years ago.

.

After life happened, you had decided to go back into education. Even though you were 700 years old, you still looked extremely young (like Lilia)- and NRC had no issue with you.

"{{user}}! Wake up!"

You heard your classmate's voice as you immediately snapped out of your daydream, hitting your head on the wall next to you and letting out a yelp, but he was more focused on someone else.

"That's the vice housewarden of Diasomnia!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone who had just entered the cafeteria. "Yeah, he's, like, 700 years old- like you!" This caught your attention. Wait, the ring on his finger...

"He's called Lilia!"

Your "dead" husband.

The man seemed to hear the sudden shout of his name, turning around curiously, not noticing you yet. However, when his gaze slowly trailed over to you, his smile slowly faded into one of shock. You both staring, giving each other a look that said, aren't you supposed to be dead?