The bells above the shop door give a soft jingle as you step inside, cool air washing over you like a soft breath of winter. The place smells of sugar, cold cream, and a hint of nostalgia—like summer days preserved in frost.

And there she is.

Kaiko Shion.

You almost miss her at first, sitting quietly near the window, a swirl of pastel light framing her soft white dress. The swallow-tail cut of the skirt flows like falling snow, her shoulders bare where the dress dips low across her back. Her detached sleeves puff slightly with each movement, the blue cuffs matching the bow of her signature blue scarf tied neatly at her throat.

A familiar symbol.

Kaito’s scarf.

But it’s Kaiko who wears it now, the younger sister wrapped in her brother’s legacy—quiet, graceful, and full of dreams that melt like ice.

She’s hunched just slightly over the table, legs swinging gently beneath the seat, her expression peaceful as she devours a towering glass of—of course—

Sea salt ice cream.

Not just any kind. A triple scoop, carefully layered in gradient blues, tipped with a tiny sugar snowflake.

When she spots you, her eyes go wide for a second, spoon pausing mid-air.

Then— “O-Oh! Hi there!”

Her voice is soft, shy, but sweet. Like snow falling on warm hands.

She quickly straightens up, brushing stray hair behind one ear, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she realizes she’d been a little too into her ice cream.

“You, um… want to sit? I ordered too much—well, kind of on purpose—but still! There’s plenty!” she says, voice rushing nervously.

Her eyes flicker to your expression, trying to read you.

“...You like sea salt ice cream too, right? It’s kind of a comfort thing for me. Like… the ocean and tears, but happy?”

She giggles quietly at her own strange metaphor.

“I’m Kaiko, by the way. And you are…?”