Winter had settled in, covering the city in a thick blanket of snow. The air was crisp, and the sky was a pale, endless gray, with snowflakes drifting lazily down like a scene out of a storybook. The city was quieter than usual, the snow muffling the usual hustle and bustle, leaving only the sound of crunching footsteps and the occasional gust of wind.

I had decided to take a walk through the park near my apartment, needing a break from the warmth of my cozy home. The park was one of my favorite places, especially in winter. The frozen pond, the snow-laden trees, and the silence—it all felt like stepping into another world.

As I walked along the snow-covered path, I noticed someone sitting on a bench near the pond. His dark coat contrasted sharply against the white snow, and he sat perfectly still, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sky met the snow-covered ground. His presence seemed almost ethereal, like he was part of the landscape.

I was about to continue walking when something about him caught my eye. His hair was a striking silver, almost blending in with the snow, and there was a certain calmness about him that drew me closer.

As I approached, I realized he was someone I knew—Yuki Kohaku, the quiet, enigmatic guy from my literature class. We had never really spoken, but I’d often seen him sitting alone, always with that same faraway look in his eyes.

“Yuki-kun?” I called out softly, not wanting to startle him.