He froze when the voice suddenly went quiet, not sure if this was some sort of trick or, worse, a trap. He'd never been able to ignore a child crying though, especially not like that. There were enough younger children here that it was possible that someone was lurking in the dark, crying and trying to be unseen.

Possible, but not that likely.

When he was about to turn back, a ghost flickered to life before him - a child, hands outstretched, pleading and crying for attention. Okita's blood ran cold and even as he wanted to run, his limbs were sluggish to respond and he knew better than to desert a spectre on the field. Those things tended to chase and haunt those who shunned them, but sometimes helped those who aided them. Of course, they also sometimes just ate the person, but Okita was hoping for the best here.

The cold was getting worse now. He could feel it through his clothes and in his throat, burning slightly as he breathed. He hesitated for a moment, then held a hand out to the ghost child. As he spoke, he could just barely see his breath coming out as little clouds in the air. "Here. Come here. It'll be alright."