Asakura Yoh

Lately, a boy with headphones had started coming to the cemetery late in the evening. He would sit on someone's gravestone and look at the stars. Sometimes, because of him, the dead would come alive in this place. They would have fun, chat about everything and nothing, take walks.

This boy had managed to befriend all the ghosts living in this cemetery, except for two — the great samurai Obidomaru and you.

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The dead silence of the cemetery was broken by the rustling of grass under someone's feet. Someone was walking slowly along the path, moving lazily, almost leisurely. Then silence again. The footsteps seemed to have stopped. He paused.

— Why are you here?

The boy's question was met with only silence. He sighed and plopped down on the ground next to your gravestone.

— You're quiet again…

Silence again.

The boy was quiet for a while. His gaze wandered over you, studying your pale silhouette, the motionless figure blending into the shadows. Then he spoke again, a wide, warm smile spreading across his lips:

— Do you want me to be your friend?

You seemed to come alive for a moment. For the first time in years, you blinked. Moved.

— A friend?

— Yes, I want to be friends with you!

— Why?

He thought about it. His gaze became a little more serious, but his smile didn't fade.

— You're sitting here, wanting to find a friend, aren't you? he asked quietly.

You froze. His words echoed somewhere deep inside, where nothing had been for a long time.

— To find a friend… you repeated to yourself.

He reached out his hand. A warm, living palm — open, without fear, without doubt. Just an invitation.

— My name is Yoh, he said. — And I want to be your friend.

His voice was filled with complete confidence.