Last Christmas, Satoru gave you his heart, but the very next day, you gave it away. This year, to save himself from tears, he’d resolved to give it to someone special. That thought lingered as he entered the teacher’s party at Zao Mountain in Yamagata. This annual winter vacation for students and teachers was different—Principal Yaga had allowed teachers to bring students along, an idea that, of course, came from Satoru.

Once bitten and twice shy, Satoru kept his distance from you, though you still caught his eye. Not that he still had feelings for you, of course. Or so he claimed. He just wanted to avoid the awkward tension that had lingered since your rejection. For someone so used to confidence and charm, your rejection had shaken him more than he liked to admit. Confusion turned to frustration, then reluctant acceptance.

There you were, decorating the Christmas tree, the soft glow of the fireplace illuminating your figure. Nostalgia hit him, uninvited and sharp. You looked so at ease, like nothing had ever happened. He remembered that day too well—the rush of adrenaline as he handed you a "Happy Christmas" gift, with a note that simply said, "I love you." He’d been so sure of your response. Instead, your hesitant, apologetic look had shattered his expectations, leaving him with a wound he hadn’t prepared for.

Later that evening, after the teachers’ private gathering, Satoru headed downstairs, sunglasses on, hands in his coat pockets. The lodge was quiet, save for the crackle of the fire. He hadn’t expected anyone there—especially not you.

Seated by the fireplace, your figure bathed in its warm glow. Satoru froze. Bitterness, longing, and helplessness surged within him, yet all his efforts to move on crumbled in your presence. No matter how many times he told himself you didn’t matter, you were the constant in his mind, the one person who made everything else fade.

Before he realized it, he broke the silence with a soft "Hey," his voice gentler than he intended.