Prologue

Kanazawa Station — Winter, January 2025

The cold hung heavy in the air. The kind that slid past coat collars and bitterly stung bare skin. The platform was unusually quiet tonight, with the soft echo of footsteps and the occasional hum of announcements overhead.

Tomogawa Ryōsuke stood near the vending machine with hands buried into the pockets of his long coat. His deep black hair, slightly unkempt, swayed lightly with the breeze, and the frame of his glasses fogged up slightly whenever he exhaled against the wintry air.

He stayed there, staring blankly ahead. Just letting the distant city lights blur into colorless smudges. His mind had been heavier than his luggage these days, and the silence of the station only deepened the noise in his head.

“Um… o-jisan…”

A small voice tugged him back to the present.

He looked down.

There she was—a little girl, probably no older than five. She is wrapped in a pink coat that barely reached her knees, her long brown hair poking out unevenly from under a knitted beanie. Her puffy cheeks flushed from the cold, and her big, searching brown eyes blinked up at him.

“O-jisan, huh.” He felt like her soft, innocent words sent a direct blow that damaged his ego. “But I am only 26.” He continued to himself as he let out a heavy sigh.

The little girl tightly gripped the strap of her small backpack. “How do I get to platform… two?”

Ryōsuke blinked, surprised. “Platform two?” His voice came out gentler than he expected. “Are you alone?”

She gave a hesitant nod. Not afraid—just unsure. She tried to avoid meeting his gaze, like she was trying to hide the slight panic evident in her now shaky eyes.

Ryōsuke glanced at the sign above them. Platform two—train heading to Fukui—was on the opposite end of the station. He checked the time. His train will be arriving soon.

The fatigue caused by the long travel had been wearing him down and all that he wanted was the comfort of his room more than anything else. But as he looked back at the girl, shifting her weight and gripping the strap of her bag, he decided that a little delay would probably do him no harm.

“…Alright,” he sighed, softer this time. “Let’s go.”

She followed beside him in silence. Her steps were small but quick to be able to catch up on his slow but long strides. After a few meters, she sneezed, just once, quietly.

Ryōsuke stopped walking. He unwound his scarf—navy blue, made of wool, still warm from his neck—and gently wrapped it around her. “You’ll catch a cold,” he said while adjusting the scarf on her neck. “Wear this for now.”

The girl touched the scarf, feeling its softness and warmth against her knitted gloves. “Thank you, o-jisan,” she whispered.

A small smile formed on Ryōsuke’s face. As they continued walking, he occasionally glanced down at her. Every time she met his gaze, he couldn’t quite place it but something felt oddly familiar with those brown, curious eyes.

When they reached the platform, he knelt beside her. “You sure you’ll be okay waiting here? There’s a help desk back near the entrance…”

She shook her head. “I said I’d wait here… Mama will come.”

Ryōsuke frowned slightly. “Okay… But if she doesn’t come soon, you go to that help desk, alright?”

“Mm!” she nodded, livelier than she was a while ago.

He checked the time. His train—also the last one—will be coming in about half an hour. He still had enough time and so, he stayed with her for a while.

She sat on the bench while looking toward the tracks, her short legs swinging above the ground. He sat beside her, but said nothing. Just like the little girl, he just waited silently.

When the chime bearing his train number echoed through the station, he stood then knelt in front of her.

“I’ll head back now,” he said, offering her a light wave. “Take care, okay?”

“Thank you, o-jisan,” she smiled—small but bright.

Ryōsuke traced back his way but as he did, he felt as if his footsteps were oddly heavier. As he approached the bend in the hallway, someone rushed past him, going to the direction he just came from.

It was a woman in a beige coat. Her dark boots clicked hurriedly against the floor as she clumsily ran through the half empty platform.

And then—

A voice. “Akira!”

Ryōsuke stopped.

He turned, only slightly, just enough to see the girl jump off the bench and run into the woman’s arms.

The woman knelt down, holding her tightly. Relief poured from her like a wave, making her initially tensed shoulders to drop. She then looked up, her weary eyes scanning the area, searching for something—or maybe, someone. And when their eyes met for the briefest second, Ryōsuke’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

His heart skipped a beat.

He almost forgot how to breathe.

He knew that face.

It hit him like the breeze—no, like the cold winter itself. Every memory came back rushing to him, sending shivers to his whole being.

Her hair was a bit longer now. Her face was a little softer. But those brown eyes haven't changed—still warm and gentle. The same eyes that used to look at him as if saying he is someone special. And those eyes—those were exactly the same with that of the little girl.

The scarf slipped a little on the girl’s shoulders as she hugged the woman tighter. From a distance, Ryōsuke froze while watching them. Something old and aching has been stirred inside him that made his mind swirl in a total chaos.

He then fled back to his platform before they could see him. And just before the train door closed, his gaze wandered afar and her name came out of his mouth like a whispered prayer that he had long forgotten.