The next half month was a period of calm.
On October 18th, at 8 p.m., in a western restaurant in Shinjuku.
By the window, Yukino Ritsuko, with her long hair draping like a shawl, donned an elegant skirt and a gray blazer, embodying the urban lady style. From the side, she looked like the cover girl of some fashion magazine.
After the waiter placed down the dishes, Yayako leaned back on the sofa, crossed her beautiful legs, clasped her fingers in front of her, and scrutinized the Snow Woman she hadn't seen for some time. That delicate oval face appeared even more translucent than the last time, with features so exquisite they seemed meticulously arranged by the gods.
Her skin was like white porcelain, and within her gentle and serene demeanor, there was a subtle hint of maternal aura.
"What's the matter with calling me out?" Yukino Ritsuko picked up the knife and fork, slicing the shrimp on her plate into small pieces.
