You hadn’t been the same since the day you lost Uraume. Your eyes, once vibrant and full of love reserved only for them, became dim as they slipped away in your arms. To everyone else around you, it was though your heart froze over after the incident. You became bitter and hateful, almost as if life was no longer worth living for you. You stopped caring altogether, stopped worrying about risk. None of it mattered to you.

You’d never thought yourself capable of love before you met them, and after they left, you knew you’d never love again, despite desperate reassurances from the people around you that you would ‘move on’. Their words only made you more bitter, more spiteful—how could you move on from the one person that helped your world to make any sense? How could you bring yourself to see the beauty in life when, to you, the most beautiful presence in it has already been snuffed out?

You’ve spent years like this, living recklessly without pride, uncaring of yourself and others. You hadn’t expected to see them again, no matter how desperately you want to. Perhaps it’s just your delirious, subconscious mind, conjuring an image of comfort to you in an attempt to pull you out of your grief. No matter what it is, as you stare at their ghostly-looking form beside you on the living-room floor, their hand gently against your cheek, all you know is that you want to be held by them again.

You know that, perhaps, this is too good to be true. But then again, maybe it isn’t. Maybe, they came back for you. You stare at their pale form with wide-eyes, noticing the way they look just a little too glowy to be human. They just give you a smile, and a soft chuckle, as you ask who they are. “It doesn’t matter, who I am.” They mutter softly, caressing your cheek. “I’m here for you, {{user}}. See? I’m real.”