Chapter 175: A Face from the Snow
"Ryusei!"
Her sudden call nearly made me jump out of my feet. I turned around, half-startled, half-annoyed, my apron still half-tied. "Huh?! What is it, Keiko? Why are you panicking like that?"
She was standing at the doorway, eyes wide and face pale. Her breath was fast, like she’d just sprinted down the street.
"I remember now!" she shouted.
"Remember what?" I blinked, trying to keep my tone calm, but her expression had already set off alarm bells in my head.
"The grandmother—Reina’s grandmother!" Keiko said, still panting between words.
That made me freeze. "Reina’s… grandmother?"
She nodded frantically, "Yes! We saw her! Remember when we got lost in the snowy mountains, during that storm? We fell and lost consciousness, right? When we woke up—we were in her house!"
Her words hit me like a shockwave. For a second, I couldn’t say anything. Then I rubbed my temple, trying to dig through my memories. “Wait… yeah… I remember that night. There was an old woman who gave us tea and blankets.”
Keiko rushed over, nearly tripping, and pointed at the old photo on my phone—the same one we’d been staring at for days. “That’s her! I’m sure of it!”
I squinted at the photo. The wrinkled smile, the gentle eyes, the faint mole under her left eye—it all started lining up in my mind. My heart skipped a beat. “You’re right! You’re a genius, Keiko!” I almost shouted, grinning wide.
Keiko’s lips curved up, but her expression remained tense. “That’s why it felt familiar when I saw her photo again. I couldn’t place it at first, but now I’m sure.”
I nodded, excitement and dread mixing in my chest. “I met her too, remember? The first time I got caught in a blizzard in that same region. She gave me tea, said something about ‘not straying too far from the flame’—whatever that means.”
Keiko’s brows knitted. “Could it really be them who did something to you back then?”
“More like it’s certain now,” I said grimly. “Reina’s grandmother, Riku, that weird storm—it’s all connected somehow.”
We both went silent, the sound of the wall clock ticking faintly in the background. My stomach twisted at the thought. If that old woman was involved, that meant this wasn’t just about Riku anymore. It ran deeper—older.
Keiko finally broke the silence. “So… what do we do now?”
I sighed, leaning back on the counter. “Honestly? I don’t know. If I go searching for her again, it might alert Riku. He’s not the type to let loose ends stay that way.”
Keiko nodded slowly, her lips tightening. “You’re right. We need to be careful. He already watching.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, staring at the window reflection of my tired face. “For now, we just stay quiet.”
---
The next day rolled by with heavy air. The more the puzzle pieces clicked, the heavier my chest felt. Like the closer I got to the truth, the more dangerous it became to breathe.
But, life didn’t stop because of it.
“Oi, small master!”
My brain, which was deep in overthinking mode, crashed back into reality. Small master?
“Yes!” I shouted, snapping back into my bar mode.
“Refill my soup, please!” the man at table four hollered, waving his bowl like a flag.
“Right away!” I shouted back, plastering on a fake smile.
“Hey, another beer over here!” another voice chimed in.
“Coming up!”
The bar was packed tonight—laughter, chatter, clinking glasses, and smoke from the grill swirling together in chaos. The kind of noise that drowns your thoughts, which, in this case, wasn’t exactly a bad thing.
“Got it!” I replied, rushing to grab the tray.
This place didn’t allow room for spacing out. Between pouring drinks, flipping yakitori, and dodging drunk customers’ jokes, my brain barely had a chance to process anything else.
Still, every now and then, Riku’s name would echo in my mind like a haunting whisper.
Was he watching us?
Had he already found out we remembered the grandmother?
The thought made my stomach twist, but before I could spiral again—
“Ryuko! Beer foam too thick!” one customer complained.
“Sorry, boss!” I yelled back, already fixing it.
Ah yes. My glamorous life. The small master of chaos.
---
By the time the clock struck midnight, I was done. My body was screaming for rest, my arms felt like noodles, and my head was buzzing.
“Finally… closing time,” I muttered, dragging my feet as I started washing the dishes. The scent of beer and fried food clung to my hair.
The bar was quiet now—just the hum of the fridge, the faint sound of rain outside, and the occasional drip from the tap.
“Just a few more plates and I can go home…” I mumbled.
Clink.
The front door bell jingled.
I didn’t even bother looking up. “Sorry, we’re closed already!” I shouted over the sound of running water.
No reply.
Just the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps.
“Excuse me…” a man’s voice said softly.
Something about that tone made my hand freeze.
Please, not tonight. I was tired. I wanted sleep, not trouble.
“Didn’t you hear me?” I muttered, grabbing a towel to dry my hands. “We’re closed—”
Then I turned around.
A young man stood at the door, half-drenched from the rain. His expression was calm—too calm—and his eyes… those unreadable eyes.
He smiled faintly. “Finally, we have some time to talk.”
My pulse skipped.
Talk? Why? What did he want from me now?
The room suddenly felt smaller. The air heavier.
I forced a weak smile, masking the tension crawling up my spine. “Talk, huh?”
But he just kept smiling—calm, patient, like he had all the time in the world.
The sound of rain outside grew louder, pounding against the glass as if echoing the sudden rush in my chest.
I wanted to laugh, to crack another joke, but something in his eyes made the words die in my throat.
This wasn’t going to be small talk.
And for the first time in a long while… I felt genuinely afraid.