Meanwhile, back home, Robin still felt code to the bone, as though her whole body were trapped in ice.
Her face was pale, and her eyes were full of confusion and fear.
She didn't know why, but images kept flashing in her mind.
The images were blurry, yet familiar.
A little girl, seemingly running away, yet also being chased.
Why was she running, and why was she being chased?
Someone inside kept telling her: "Run! That scary guy is here again!"
The dreadful, cold feeling made her tremble all over.
But where should she run?
Where was Ian?
It was already dark, so why hadn't he returned yet?
Robin's restlessness, fear, and anxiety prevented her from preparing dinner. She even nearly cut herself several times while chopping vegetables.
For some reason, even though Village Chief Martin had said it was just a cold wave, she was still worried about Ian's return.
It was as if someone was telling her… Staying here would harm Ian and everyone.
This time, lost in thought, she really cut her delicate hand. Yet she didn't even care; she stared blankly ahead while murmuring to herself: "Ian..."
But just as she uttered the name…
"Crack."
The door opened.
"I'm back, and I brought firewood with me. Is this enough? If not, I'll chop more tomorrow."
Hearing that familiar voice, Robin, stunned in her spot, could no longer contain herself. She spun around and looked towards the door.
Seeing the familiar figure, Robin's worries finally faded, and she stared at Ian in amazement.
"What's wrong?"
Ian, carrying a bundle of firewood taller than himself, set down the logs and his axe. Then he noticed her, especially her cut hand. His expression froze slightly.
"You got your hand cut?"
Before he could say more, Robin suddenly rushed into his arms, holding him tightly.
Feeling her warmth against him, Ian's chest stirred, followed by a sharp intake of breath. Inwardly, he cursed a certain someone for not sticking to the script.
But before he could speak, Robin lifted her face. Her clear eyes shimmered with tears, but her lips curved in a smile.
She whispered joyfully: "You're back, dear!"
Ian: "..."
Ian froze while staring at Robin, but then a smile crept across his face, and he said again: "I'm back."
"Why are you so late?"
Robin seemed to recover. The worry and fear she had felt instantly vanished upon seeing Ian, and she even grumbled a little: "That's so worrying, dear."
"On my way back, a bear blocked my path, and I had no choice but to beat him up."
Ian said with a strange expression. "So, I'm a little late."
"Bear?" Hearing Ian's words, Robin noticed something was wrong with Ian's face.
How should she put it?
It was bruised, swollen, and even a little asymmetrical.
This startled Robin again, and she couldn't help but reach out with her right hand to gently stroke Ian's face.
"Hiss—"
This gentle touch made Ian gasp.
"Dear, what happened to you..."
"It's from that bear. Nothing serious. A little sunshine tomorrow, and it will be fine. Don't worry, I won."
Seeing her worried and frightened expression, Ian quickly brushed it off with a laugh.
Looking at Robin, who looked a little worried and frightened, Ian quickly brushed it off with a laugh: "Anyway, is dinner ready yet? I'm starving. Did you cut your hand because you were too tired? Did you clean and disinfect it? How about I prepare dinner tonight?"
A string of words came out of his mouth, and as Ian spoke, he tried to prepare dinner.
But Robin, who was holding him, didn't let go; instead, she held him even tighter.
"...?"
Before Ian could say anything else.
"Wait a moment."
Robin, with her head buried in Ian's arms, suddenly whispered softly: "Please hold me, dear."
"..."
Ian was startled, but he didn't let go. As if sensing Robin's trembling body, he seemed to have guessed something and gently patted her back.
Did she remember?
Or she didn't?
But after a moment, Ian stopped thinking and continued to pat Robin quietly, as if soothing her fearful heart.
The warm embrace and gentle touch calmed Robin's heart. She closed her eyes, buried her head tightly in Ian's arms, and murmured to herself: "So warm…"
The warmth, like the sun, instantly dispelled her fear and confusion. Even the chaotic voices in her mind disappeared in this embrace, freeing her from fear and confusion.
Is this what having a family feels like?
The two of them hugged each other, quietly, unaware that at this moment, in a distant tree… A figure lay on a thick branch, resting his hands on his head while gazing lazily over at them, muttering to himself: "I went too easy... But does he know, or doesn't?"
Thinking of the previous battle, Kuzan couldn't help but sigh.
"What a pity! I wonder where the previous commander of Branch 315th is now?"
As he spoke, his gaze shifted toward the distant cabin.
"What will you choose now? To stay, or to leave again?"
Live a low-key life, or leave and continue to immerse yourself in the past.
The future… Where will you go?
A hint of complexity crossed Kuzan's eyes, but he quickly regained his lazy expression. He hopped down from the tree, stood on the ground, and stretched lazily. "Looks like there's nothing left for me to do here. In that case, I'll go back to headquarters and rest!"
It was time to get reimbursed for his expenses during this period. At this moment, Kuzan seemed to sense something. He reached out and gently touched his right cheek, as if plucking something.
After a moment's pause, he looked up at the sky. "Is it snowing? Is winter coming so early on the Sibia River Archipelago?"
As he spoke, he seemed to understand something and glanced toward the hills behind him. "Ah, it seems I'm responsible!"
With that, he didn't dwell further. With his hands in his pockets, he strolled lazily toward the shore. Halfway there, he turned his head, giving the little wooden cabin one last look, then turned back and continued on.
As he walked, he muttered to himself in a lazy voice: "I hope you can find the place you truly belong to and live well!"
As he spoke, the snow fell heavily.
And so, the Sibia River Archipelago officially entered winter.