—August 2nd, 2025—

I couldn't sleep that night. My girlfriend Sarah lay beside me, peacefully unaware of how my world had shifted mere hours ago. The gentle rhythm of her breathing, once comforting, now felt like a countdown to morning—to when I'd see her again. The guilt gnawed at me, but it couldn't overshadow the electric anticipation coursing through my veins.

I spent hours scrolling through my phone, trying to distract myself with manga updates, Reddit threads about AI, and videos covering alternative history. But every few minutes, my mind would drift back to those turquoise eyes, that perfect smile. I found myself wondering what kind of music she listened to, whether she'd appreciate the subtle alchemical storytelling in One Piece, or if she'd laugh at my collection of custom-ordered ceramic devil fruits.

Sarah stirred beside me, mumbling something about her upcoming presentation at work. I felt a pang of remorse—we'd built a life together, comfortable and predictable. But that was the problem, wasn't it? Predictable. Like a visual novel where you can see all the dialogue options before choosing them. But this mysterious cemetery girl? She was like a plot twist I never saw coming.

Morning came too slowly and too quickly at the same time. I went through my workday in a daze, barely registering the endless meetings and email threads. My coworkers probably thought I was more absorbed in my phone than usual, but I was actually researching the history of ghost sightings in our local cemetery. Something about her made me want to dig deeper into the occult knowledge I'd accumulated over the years. Was it possible she was more than just a beautiful girl who happened to share my appreciation for quiet walks among the tombstones?

The promise ring felt heavier on my finger with each passing hour. I'd never been the type to believe in love at first sight—that was the stuff of shoujo manga, not real life. Yet here I was, counting down the minutes until I could see her again, all while wearing another woman's promise on my hand.

As evening approached, I told Sarah I was going for my usual walk. The lie of omission tasted bitter, but the anticipation of seeing her again sweetened it somehow. I arrived at the cemetery twenty minutes early, my heart thundering in my chest like a manga protagonist before a confession scene.

The sun was setting, painting the tombstones in shades of amber and rose. I walked our collision spot, wondering if yesterday had been real or if I'd somehow slipped into an alternate reality. Those years of occult research had taught me that reality was more flexible than most people believed. Maybe this was proof.

Then I saw her approaching through the lengthening shadows, and my breath caught in my throat. She wore a flowing sundress that made her look like she'd stepped out of a Makoto Shinkai film, ethereal and impossibly perfect. Her messy bun had been replaced by loose waves that caught the dying sunlight like spun gold.

She smiled when she saw me, and just like that, I knew there was no turning back. Whatever this was—fate, magic, or something else entirely—I was already in too deep to swim back to shore.

"You actually came," she said semi-sarcastically, her voice carrying on the evening breeze like a melody.

"Of course I did," I replied, surprising myself with my steadiness. "I had to know if you were real or if I'd been sleep walking or something. Or maybe I’d met a ghost."

She laughed. "Oh, I'm real," she said, deathly serious at first. Which caught me off-guard. She stepped closer with another smile. "Shall we walk?"

"Yes," I managed to say, pushing through the awkwardness that threatened to silence me. Something about her demanded more—more courage, more honesty, more of everything I had to give. In my twenty-seven years, I'd developed a habit of acting on instinct rather than thought. It had served me well, teaching me lessons both harsh and beautiful. But standing there, faced with this ethereal creature who made me want to upend my entire existence, I wondered if any of those lessons had prepared me for this moment.

We began walking together as the sun descended behind the cemetery's western edge. Darkness crept up behind us like a living thing, and normally, this would have sent me running. I'd never shaken my childhood fear of the dark—it was as much a part of me as my otaku tendencies. Yet somehow, the encroaching shadows felt almost sacred when shared with her, as if the darkness itself was blessing our meeting.

After a few steps, I stopped abruptly and turned to face her. She mirrored my movement, her sundress swaying gently in the evening breeze.

"What's up?" she asked, flashing that devastating smile that made my knees weak.

"I just realized we don't even know each other's names," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"True. I'm Eli. What's yours?"

"Tris," I replied, then added without thinking, "Eli is cute." The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and I felt heat rush to my face. Since when had I become so forward?

"Aw, thanks." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and I noticed an emerald stud that hadn't been there yesterday. The simple gesture sent my mind spinning—she'd chosen to wear a sundress, let her hair down, and add that elegant touch of jewelry for our meeting. After barely knowing each other? Was I reading too much into this, falling into my usual overthinking spiral? But something about it felt right, so I decided to trust that feeling.

"So, Tris. Like the number three, or?" she asked, tilting her head curiously.

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"Actually, it's short for Trisananda," I admitted, feeling self-conscious. "It’s funny; my father is black, but he still named me this way. Not like skin colour matters anyways. Just a fun fact I guess…"

"Oh? Was he a fan of Sanskrit?" she asked, and my heart nearly stopped. Through my years of occult research, I'd delved deep into Sanskrit texts, discovering the ancient wisdom hidden in their syllables. Finding someone who recognized the origins of my name was like discovering a reasonably priced, rare collector's edition figure in a forgotten Ebay page.

"I'm... very surprised you know about Sanskrit. That's awesome!"

"Surprised? You don't even know me!" she laughed, but her words struck something deep within me. That was just it—I felt like I did know her, as if this wasn't our first meeting but a reunion of sorts. Like maybe we'd been childhood friends who'd forgotten each other, or something even more profound that my occult studies hadn't yet revealed to me.

"True..." I let out a nervous laugh. "Can we change that though?" My heart hammered against my ribs as the words left my mouth. What was I doing?

"Ooo, spicy," she teased, her expression playfully coy. "Isn't that why we're walking together here?" She raised an eyebrow that somehow managed to be both challenging and inviting.

"Right, right," I conceded, and we continued our walk through the deepening twilight, each step feeling like we were moving not just through the cemetery, but into something vast and unknowable—something I desperately wanted to explore.

"So, tell me about your girlfriend." Her question came softly, wrapped in genuine curiosity rather than judgment. The way she asked made it seem both important and casual at once, as if she were trying to gauge something just beyond my understanding.

"Ah, well sure. What do you want to know?"

"Anything really. What comes to mind?"

"Well..." My mind went completely blank, like a newly formatted hard drive. Everything about my girlfriend felt wrong to discuss, as if I were breaking some unwritten cosmic law that I'd only just become aware of. I wanted to talk about anything else—the meaning of life, the intricate plots of my favorite visual novels, the secrets of the universe—anything but... "I don't really love her."

The words escaped before I could stop them, and my soul nearly left my body.

"Oh? Oh ho ho? Did that just slip out?" Her voice carried no judgment, only a playful curiosity that somehow made this moment both better and worse. But more importantly—did I really just blurt that out?!

"I want to die..." I sank to my knees, hugging them close like a defensive barrier against my own embarrassment. Steam was practically visible rising from my ears, and I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze. Despite her being the most breathtaking person I'd ever encountered—and likely would ever encounter—it felt like I was confessing this to my girlfriend herself. The emotions twisted through me like a live wire, making me nauseous as I spilled my deepest truth to this stranger who somehow felt anything but strange to my heart.

She knelt beside me, carefully tucking her sundress against the evening breeze. As the sun painted the sky before us and darkness crept up from behind, time seemed to slow to a crawl. "Tris, it's okay..." Her hand found my shoulder, and the contact sent electricity through my entire being. My otaku brain fired off a thousand possible scenarios while my heart performed gymnastics in my chest. Her flowery scent enveloped me like a spell. "I'm not perfect either, you know. Though I suppose you wouldn't know because we just met each other..." Her laugh tinkled like wind chimes.

I lifted my gaze to find her watching me with the most profound empathy I'd ever witnessed. Her aura seemed to envelope me completely—I wouldn't have looked away even if the cemetery exploded around us. She was transcendent. "Thank you. You're..." The words stuck in my throat, as they often did in moments like these. My social awkwardness usually manifested in random outbursts followed by long silences, which explained why I had so few friends. It's hard to connect when your values align with barely one percent of the population.

"...in the same situation," she finished, as if reading my thoughts and feelings and covering for me.

I was surprised. "What do you mean?" We stood together, and I became acutely aware of our physical differences. At six-foot-one and 230 pounds, I was a substantial presence, though well-proportioned with slim extremities and most of my weight carried in my thighs and rear. She barely reached my chest, her petite frame probably less than half my weight, the wind molding her sundress against her perfect form. Her porcelain skin contained no trace of blemishes, while my golden brown skin told a slightly different story. The way she had to look up to meet my eyes made my heart flutter. How could someone be so utterly perfect?

"You see, I'm also in a relationship." Her voice turned introspective as she pulled a ring from somewhere—a stunning piece that resembled a bedazzled wedding band.

"Are you married?!" The question burst from me, carrying shock, surprise, and a hidden sadness I tried desperately to mask. But when I met her eyes, I saw a familiar melancholy there—the look of someone yearning for something different, not for change's sake, but because the current path felt wrong. My resolve strengthened. I couldn't give up yet.

"No, not married yet, just engaged. But..." Her voice trailed off as her body seemed to sink beneath the weight of unspoken words.

Acting on pure instinct, I gripped her shoulders gently and looked into her eyes. She didn't pull away but allowed the contact, her gaze meeting mine. "...it doesn't feel right," I finished her thought, feeling a flash of pride that I quickly suppressed in favor of being fully present for her. Something deep within urged me to listen more intently than I ever had before.

Her expression shifted from melancholy to surprise and recognition, and I wondered what was happening behind those mesmerizing eyes. What thoughts were crossing her mind? What was her soul trying to tell mine? "Yeah. It doesn't feel right."

I released her shoulders and fidgeted slightly, processing everything. Without thinking, I slipped my ring off and tucked it into my pocket.

"You know how it is..." she said softly.

"Yeah, yeah, I do." Though she'd barely said anything concrete, it felt like we'd shared an entire conversation through our mere presence, our auras resonating in perfect understanding.

She glanced behind us at the encroaching darkness. "Hey Tris, it's getting a bit late and I didn't realize the darkness would lock us in. Wanna call it a night and meet again tomorrow?" My heart leaped at the suggestion.

"I would love to," I replied, not bothering to hide my blush. I was determined to unravel this mystery, whatever the cost. "Same time?"

"Yeah, same time. Oh, also can I get your number?" she asked. I noticed she had neither purse nor pockets visible.

"Um, yeah sure. Do you... have your phone on you?" I asked, confused.

"Nah, I don't, but I'll remember it, don't worry," she responded with a smile that pierced straight through my heart.

"Ah," I said, tapping my head in acknowledgment of her confidence. I recited my number, and the moment I finished the last digit, she took off running. Not a casual jog, but a full sprint out of the cemetery, her form perfect even in flight. I stood there, equal parts bewildered and amused, admiring both the absurdity of the moment and the grace of her departure. The fact that she'd asked for my number filled me with the same excitement I'd felt when first discovering the deeper mysteries of spirituality and the occult. Now I had a new mystery to solve, and nothing in this world or any other would stop me from unraveling it.