Smoke curled in thick, acrid waves, biting at the air as it poured around Wilhelm. The bitter tang of it clung to everything, smothering all but the flicker of flames that danced chaotically, consuming the remains of the small café.

Wait!

Wilhem could see the inferno, but the smoke didn’t sting his eyes. It should have blinded him, but it didn’t. The heat should have scalded his skin, yet he felt nothing. The flames crackled, licking greedily at the edges of tables and climbing the cracked wooden beams. Sparks sprayed as a beam sagged overhead, groaning under the weight of the fire.

A café... why did that seem familiar?

Wilhelm stood amidst the chaos, unmoving, watching. The fire consumed everything it touched, but it felt distant, as though he wasn’t really there. And then, through the suffocating roar of the blaze, he heard it again—the voice.

The very one that had dragged him out of oblivion, rougher now, choked by smoke.

“Wilhelm...”

His gaze snapped to the source. Through the haze, he saw a figure sprawled on the floor, coughing and choking as the thick smoke enveloped him.

Thomas.

The name hit Wilhelm like a hammer. A wave of something heavy and bitter twisted inside him—regret. It poked at the edges of his mind, insistent and cruel. He couldn’t grasp the reason why, but the feeling was undeniable, gnawing at him with every passing second.

Thomas clawed forward, his trench coat singed at the edges, offering little protection against the heat. The flames cast shadows across his face, twisted with desperation as he dragged himself toward the lifeless body slumped just a few feet away.

Wilhelm didn’t need to look closely. He knew whose body it was.

His.

Thomas heaved, pulling himself closer, the effort visible in every trembling muscle. His hands reached out, shaking as he pressed against Wilhelm’s chest. His breaths were short and shallow, each one a struggle against the smoke that filled his lungs.

“Come on,” Thomas rasped, his voice raw. “Come back...”

He pressed harder, his fingers trembling as he tried again. One thrust, two, three—each attempt more frantic than the last.

His breath came fast and shallow, pupils blown wide from the smoke.

But Wilhelm could tell- he wasn’t choking on the smoke.

Wilhelm watched, frozen, as Thomas’s composure began to crack. Tears streaked down his soot-smudged face, glinting in the firelight. His shoulders sagged under the crushing weight of emotions that Wilhelm couldn’t quite name.

The café groaned again, and the wooden beams above crackled ominously as the fire ate away at their supports. Embers fell like burning snow, some scorching the floor around Thomas and some landing on his coat, leaving smoldering marks. His hair singed at the edges, and a red welt began to form on the side of his neck where the heat kissed his skin.

Thomas coughed violently, his body shaking, but his grip on Wilhelm’s lifeless form tightened.

He pressed his ear to Wilhelm’s chest, searching desperately for any sign of life, his trembling hands pressing harder, almost willing a heartbeat into existence.

“Wilhelm!” Thomas’s voice cracked, barely more than a rasp. “No... no, no, no.”

The scream wasn’t loud; it couldn’t be. The smoke had stolen his voice, and what little sound he managed to make was swallowed by the fire’s greedy roar. But the anguish behind it was deafening.

Thomas's shoulder sagged, inch by Inch. He slumped against Wilhelm, head bowed, shoulders trembling as the weight of emotions he could barely name threatened to crush him. Tears left dried smudge on the soot on his face as he let out a hoarse, strangled cry.

And still, he clung to consciousness, driven by some unrelenting force within him.

Though Thomas couldn't see, Wilhelm was there... right before him.

He stood there, frozen, staring at Thomas as something sharp and unbearable wrenched his heart.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Why does seeing you like this feel like I’ve made a mistake I can’t undo?

The thought burned hotter than the fire surrounding them.

Wilhelm stared at Thomas, whose head still rested on his corpse.

His jaw clenched.

Leave him.

Thomas wasn’t moving.

Wilhelm’s hands clenched into fists.

“Get up.” The words smoldered in his throat. “Get up, damn it!”

But Thomas stayed still, chest heaving as shallow breaths escaped him between ragged coughs. Wilhelm’s gaze flickered to the flames, inching toward him like ravenous beasts.

I should leave him.

The dead have no place among the living.

But his shoulders trembled under the weight of something he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t the burned beam wedged through him nor the heat of the scalding flame. It was heavier, suffocating. Regret.

Why?

The emotion twisted through him, clawing and scorching, until it settled like a pit of molten steel in his core.

Why do I feel like I’ve done this to you?

The thought struck like ice water. His entire body tensed, the fleeting memory just out of reach, taunting him.

Forget it. It doesn’t matter now.

But it didn’t leave him. The regret only dug deeper, searing through his ethereal form.

Thomas’s hand fell limp, fingers curling into fists. His head tilted upward, and for the first time, their eyes met.

Wilhelm froze. His breath caught in his throat.

Thomas’s unfocused eyes bore through him, and Wilhelm’s stomach dropped. He realized Thomas wasn’t looking at him—

He can’t possibly see me!

Thomas’s gaze drifted to the lifeless body. With trembling hands, he reached forward and gently closed Wilhelm’s glassy, unseeing eyes, still open in death.

Wilhelm felt a pang in his chest, sharper than any fire.

Why can’t I remember?

Thomas slumped down, his body collapsing beside Wilhelm’s corpse. His breaths came in short, shallow bursts, flaring into violent coughs. His face was pale, streaked with soot, skin blistered where flames had licked too close.

Wilhelm watched as Thomas’s eyes grew hazy.

And then, in a moment so brief it felt impossible, Thomas’s eyes widened, his pupils blown with shock and horror. His lips trembled, and he froze, staring straight at Wilhelm.

Looks like he saw a ghost or something. Wilhem chuckled at this thought.

But Thomas’s wild expression, the sheer terror in his gaze, made him unsettled.

"Wil..." Thomas rasped, barely forming the name.

Wilhelm’s breath hitched, eyes widened.

He sees me?

Thomas’s body wavered, lips parting in a faint attempt to speak again. But his strength failed him. With one last tremble, his head drooped backward, and he fell unconscious.

He was still alive, but only just.

The flames crackled louder now, emboldened by Thomas’s vulnerability.

Leave him.

The thought came cold and swift, devoid of emotion.

Let him die here.

Wilhelm turned his back, willing himself to fade into the ethereal realm. The edges of his form shimmered, unraveling like smoke in the wind. The fiery heat no longer touched him, not that it touched, to begin with. The mortal world began to dissolve.

I'm a ghost.

Wilhelm’s body wavered, dissolving into faint embers that drifted upward, swallowed by the smoke.

The flames gnawed at the walls, relentless and wild—but as his form unraveled, the inferno hesitated as if uncertain whether to claim him.

Is this what I’ve become?

The thought barely lingered before his gaze drifted back to Thomas—unconscious, vulnerable, dying.

Damn it.

Regret struck hard, coiling like molten iron around his chest.

The flames surged forward, eager to consume—but Wilhelm broke through the veil of fire with a single step.

It parted around him like silk, scattering into glowing threads that spiraled through the air in delicate embers. His outline flickered, half-formed, yet solid enough to cast a faint shadow over Thomas’s prone body.

In that instant, the line between the living and the dead blurred.

Shadows stretched beneath Wilhelm’s feet, curling like serpents as he knelt beside Thomas. The flames twisted unnaturally, bending away from the unconscious man as if repelled by an unseen force.

But not all of them listened.

Fierce tongues of fire lashed out—wild, hungry—only to recoil with a sharp hiss. Each flicker that dared approach snuffed out instantly as if swallowed by the dark heat that radiated from Wilhelm’s ethereal form.

Beneath the surface of his ghostly skin, a low smolder pulsed—an ember that refused to die, burning silently without smoke or ash.

Wilhelm's eyes narrowed as they lingered on Thomas’s face.

The man looked fragile, barely breathing, yet Wilhelm couldn’t tear himself away from the man he couldn’t remember… but somehow couldn’t abandon.