-ODORI PARK, SAPPORO-
-6:12 PM, DECEMBER 23, 2016-
The city lights glowed warmer as evening deepened.
Rikuu and Ichika remained seated on the bench, shoulders lightly touching. The air had grown colder, but neither of them mentioned going home yet.
Rikuu stared ahead at the snow-covered fountain.
"…Winter break starts tomorrow," he said.
"Yes."
"You'll probably be busy."
"A few family obligations," she admitted. "But nothing overwhelming."
He nodded once.
Silence settled again — not awkward, just thoughtful.
Ichika watched her breath form small white clouds in the air.
Then she spoke.
"Can I ask you something?"
Rikuu's shoulders tensed slightly. "…Depends what it is."
She turned toward him fully this time.
"Can I meet your grandmother?"
The world didn't stop.
Cars still passed.
People still laughed nearby.
But for Rikuu—
Everything narrowed.
"…What?"
"I want to meet her," Ichika repeated softly. "You talk about her sometimes."
"Not much."
"But enough."
He looked away quickly.
Snowflakes landed in his dark hair and melted almost instantly.
"That's not a good idea," he said flatly.
"Why?"
"She's sick."
"I know."
"It's not…" He exhaled sharply. "It's not a place someone like you should go."
Someone like you.
Ichika didn't flinch.
"Someone like me?" she asked gently.
"You grew up in a house bigger than the street I live on," he muttered. "You don't need to see the rest."
Her gaze didn't soften in pity.
It steadied.
"I'm not asking to judge it."
He didn't respond.
"I'm asking because she's important to you," she continued. "And if you're important to me, then she is too."
The words settled heavily between them.
Rikuu swallowed.
"You don't know what you're signing up for."
"Then let me see."
He stood abruptly.
Snow crunched under his shoes.
"Komori."
She looked up at him calmly.
"I don't mix worlds," he said quietly. "That's how things stay… manageable."
"And are they manageable?" she asked.
That hit harder than he expected.
He looked at her.
Really looked.
She wasn't curious out of impulse.
She wasn't romanticizing hardship.
She was choosing.
Deliberately.
"…You won't like it," he murmured.
"Let me decide that."
A long silence stretched.
Rikuu ran a hand through his hair, frustrated — not at her, but at himself.
Letting her see meant letting her closer than he ever had.
Closer than was safe.
"…She asks too many questions," he warned.
Ichika smiled faintly. "So do I."
He almost laughed despite himself.
Snow continued falling.
Slow.
Persistent.
Finally—
"…Tomorrow," he said.
Her eyes widened slightly. "Tomorrow?"
"Before sunset. She gets tired at night."
Ichika stood carefully.
"I'll be there."
He hesitated.
"You can still back out."
"I won't."
Their eyes locked again.
This wasn't about romance anymore.
It wasn't about hand-holding under Christmas lights.
This was the first real step into his world.
The one he never opened.
The one he protected fiercely.
"…Don't dress like you're attending a gala," he added quietly.
A soft laugh escaped her.
"I wouldn't."
He studied her expression once more.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Just warmth.
"…You're really not scared," he muttered.
"I am," she admitted.
That surprised him.
"But I think some things are worth being scared for."
The honesty in that made his chest tighten.
For the first time—
Rikuu realized something dangerous.
She wasn't just walking toward him.
She was walking into his life.
And he wasn't stopping her.
-RIKUU'S APARTMENT DISTRICT, SAPPORO-
-9:03 PM-
Rikuu walked alone through the narrow alleyways toward his apartment.
Snow piled unevenly along cracked sidewalks.
Streetlights flickered.
He stopped outside his building.
Old.
Worn.
Familiar.
He looked up at the small window where warm light glowed faintly.
"…Tomorrow," he murmured to himself.
He wasn't sure what scared him more.
Her seeing the place.
Or her not turning away when she did.
Above him, snow continued to fall —
quietly.
Unaware.
That tomorrow would shift everything again.