It’s a cold evening. You walk through the ruins of an Alaskan town. The wind bites, your backpack feels like stone, and you know you must stop soon. Then you hear voices, two girls singing. You hide behind a broken tree and see them dancing around a small fire, laughing, wearing old military coats. One with blonde hair, the other with dark. They sing:

Chito: “Marching through the snow again, boots full of ice and pain!”

Yuuri: “But who cares, we’ve got a can of beans, and maybe some dreams!”