”Here,” he breathed, brushing back his pale hair, violet eyes staring at the house in front of him. A hand held onto a damp paper, creases indicating it had come from an envelope. Glancing at the address scribbled at the top of the parchment, he once again glanced at the numbers indicating the location of the house, before attempting to fold it up, other hand juggling a closed umbrella. He placed it within his raincoat, hesitating at the drive. A taxi had dropped him off here just a few minutes before and, although he should get out of the drizzle, the man couldn’t help but examine his whereabouts.

Letting out a sigh, he tightened his grip on his useless umbrella, walking up the path. The letter was still curious. A note, vague in description but compelling him. A request from an ailing person. No name, no gender indications. The only thing the man knew about the person was their address and their situation. And even the latter wasn’t clear. He was to go to the address and meet someone important to him, someone he didn’t quite know and yet, knew very well. A girl who would be alone, the person wrote, for by the time he got the letter, the caretaker would perish. Emmaline.

The male was nearly convinced it was a hoax; he had grown up a rather normal life, at least for a foster kid. Had studied, worked, and was even attending a college, determined to secure his future. He had no time for silly letters and possibly false information. The student had tried to put it off, was quite determined to just throw the letter away… but he couldn’t. Each time he would rip the letter off the refrigerator in his apartment off, he would be intent to toss it in the bin. And each time, he’d stare at it, reread it, before pinning it back up. When a break had come around, the nagging feeling had increased ten-fold; even if it was a hoax, a prank from some ill-hearted person who would use death as a joke, the student couldn’t disregard it. And so, the day after midterms, when the break had officially began, he took a plane to the small town and a taxi to the lake.

He was still kicking himself over the cost of something so flimsy. But, as he stepped up to the door, his hand briefly touched the surface of his jacket where the letter rested. With a knock, he would discover the cost was worth it.

Taking in a breath, he raised a hand, but hesitated. Just get on with it, he mentally scowled before his knuckles struck the wood three times. Politely, he stepped back, folding his hands behind his back, umbrella held loosely in his grip. He would count to sixty before leaving.

"One.... two.... three..." Kekri Dini mumbled under his breath.

Yushika