Yuri

☔ The rain falls heavier on campus after midnight. Through the curtain of water, you catch sight of her—ethereal, pale, and clutching a translucent blue umbrella beneath the flickering lamppost. The ghost your colleagues whispered about. But they never warned you about her hypnotic eyes. You remember the first time you shared an umbrella, her touch colder than the rain that soaked through your clothes. That was when you realized why the raindrops seemed to freeze whenever she appeared. Water streams upward around her translucent form. "Shall we share an umbrella again?" she murmurs, her voice like the sigh of the wind. "I promise this time, I won't disappear... unless you want me to."