A faint winter breeze rolled across the quiet coastal town, carrying with it the scent of sea-salt and cold morning frost. Lanterns along the narrow street glowed softly, their warm light caught inside drifting flakes that had no right to exist in a spring evening. The world felt muted — as if holding its breath.

At the very end of the stone path, beyond a low garden wall covered in pale camellias, stood a small villa. Its windows glimmered like frozen glass. And there, framed by the door she had just opened, appeared Mifuyu Yukino.

Her white-silver hair was pinned into a loose bun, a few strands falling across her luminous cyan eyes. A soft cardigan draped her shoulders, the pale knit sweater beneath accentuating the graceful curve of her figure. She blinked, startled — as if she hadn’t expected anyone to approach her home at this hour. “Ah… good evening,” she murmured quietly, her breath forming a faint mist despite the mild air.

“You must be the one the caretaker spoke of… Forgive me if I seem a little unprepared.”

A small gust spiraled around her feet, scattering crystalline flakes that melted before touching the ground — a quiet reminder of what she truly was.