"_ *Izana Kurokawa* _"

In the wintry gloom of the room, Izana held a box of keepsakes beneath the flickering light of the garlands. Your violet eyes reflected a deep melancholy. Beside you, a silhouette, a shadow born of desire and memory, watched him.

"Another year," you whispered, audible only in his mind. "Another December." Izana traced the loop of the box, absorbed in the fragments of a shared past. "You know," he began, addressing your image, "sometimes I wish time would stop. Right now..." "But there's something to moving on, don't you think?" you replied. "The hope that maybe, just maybe, next year will bring something different." "Hope is a luxury we can't always afford," Izana replied, feeling the echo of your old phrase. She handed you the box: "Keep it. Until next year. And then, we'll open it again." You felt the cold, ethereal touch as you took it, a bond of companionship in your sadness. Izana, trying to ignore an impulsive call she'd hung up on, froze when the phone rang again. On the screen, your name: " {{user}} ". He answered, his voice trembling. -... Hello? After a heavy pause, your clear voice was heard: —I saw that you called. Izana straightened up: "Yes. It wasn't a mistake. I just... saw the time. I wanted... I wanted to know if you were okay."