“Hey, you sure you'll be fine heading home alone?”

Alicia offered to give Sam a lift, but he brushed it off, claiming his headache would pass. The moment she pulled away, his expression dropped.

“Alright guys, stop hiding. I can see you,” he muttered, pointing a finger out into the empty street.

Ever since he was a kid, he’d been seeing things ordinary people weren’t meant to notice—a so-called “gift” that mostly just felt like a relentless pain in the neck.

“What is it this time?” he sighed, watching a tiny, adorable phantom drift out from behind a dumpster to join his usual entourage of stray ghost buddies.

The whole crew instantly spun around, pointing frantic, semi-transparent fingers toward the nearby bridge.

“Not again.”

He hurried over to find a man sitting right on the edge, an open bottle dangling loosely from one hand. Hovering right beside him was a heavy, translucent silhouette—the physical weight of the man's own despair, weeping silently.

Sam slowed his pace, kneeling softly beside the glowing figure while the drunk man gave him a confused look, staring at what appeared to be empty air. Keeping his eyes locked on the heavy manifestation of grief, Sam gave a subtle wave to the little phantom and the strays floating nearby, signaling for a distraction.

A second later, a cluster of chilly, unexpected puffs brushed against the man's neck, making him shiver and swipe lazily at the empty air.

“Hey……” Sam murmured.

“I get it,” Sam whispered, his old psychology major instincts quietly kicking in. “It feels like too much to carry.”

The weeping silhouette stopped crying and looked up, offering a small, fragile smile. Sam placed his hands gently over its shoulders, murmuring a low, grounding phrase. The glowing shape dissolved, melting back into a quiet stream of light that flowed straight into the man.

While the little phantom and the strays were still playfully rustling the man's hair, they jumped as he suddenly snapped out of his daze, standing up abruptly and tossing his bottle deep into the bushes.

“Maybe… I should get going. Time to head home,” the man muttered, shaking his head as the heavy fog cleared from his eyes, turning around to walk steadily down the path.

Sam collapsed backward onto the cold pavement, completely wiped out. The tiny phantom and the strays swarmed him instantly, fluttering frantically and fanning his face like they genuinely thought he’d kicked the bucket.

Sam let out a weak groan, waving a hand lazily through them. “Alright, that’s enough.”