It was snowing.
The tail end of winter marked the year's close—and the start of a new one. Christmas trees twinkled with fairy lights on every corner, flanked by staff in reindeer costumes and oversized plush suits. Girls clung to their boyfriends' arms as they strolled the festive streets, cradling greenhouse-grown roses in their gloved hands. Snow dusted the rooftops, and the warm lights behind stained-glass windows made the clothes and gifts on display shimmer with soft glamour.
After more than three hundred days and nights of non-stop motion, the city had finally slowed. Joy filled every alley and corner—songs, drinks, and laughter all blended into the background of this cheerful pause between endings and beginnings.
Christmas was just the soft brake, easing everyone toward the year's end.
"It's the end of the year and Dad's work is even busier. He's got it rough," Ayane Sakura mumbled, her new boots crunching over the thin layer of snow.
"It's okay. His credit card's keeping us company," her young-looking mother joked, shopping bags in hand.
"He's reduced to just a piece of plastic? That's depressing," Ayane sighed.
"Aww, growing up, aren't you? Already sympathizing with the hardworking men in your life," her mom teased, wrapping an arm around her.
"When we get home, tell him 'thank you for everything,' and he'll probably cry on the spot."
"No way. That's way too embarrassing." Ayane grimaced.
"Let's see now... gifts for the relatives, new clothes, toys for the nieces and nephews—looks like we've got just about everything. Ayane, is there anything else you want to buy?"
"I'm good." Ayane shook her head sensibly.
"Then let's grab something to eat and rest a bit before we walk around more."
"Didn't we just finish shopping?" she blinked.
"Oh sweetie, shopping is one thing, strolling is another. One is necessity, the other is pleasure."
"So, together they mean 'enjoying life,' huh?" Ayane deadpanned.
"Exactly!" her mom laughed like an older sister. "What do you feel like eating?"
Scanning the lively streets, Ayane hesitated. "Let's go for Western food."
...
"Welcome, lovely ladies! You're like winter sprites bringing the promise of spring." The waiter greeted them with charm.
"Really? Thank you. Do you have a table available?" her mom giggled, covering her face.
"Of course, right this way."
Ayane peeked past her mom at the waiter. A flicker of surprise passed through her eyes. Then she kept glancing around the restaurant, as if searching for something—or someone.
"Ayane, what are you doing? This way." Her mother waved.
"Coming." Ayane jogged over, still puzzled.
Meanwhile, at Table 18:
"This Christmas gift—please give it to the waiter who helped me when I was feeling down. Just tell him it's a thank-you," said a poised, short-haired woman with calm authority.
"Do you have a name?" the waiter asked politely.
"No. But he's young, good-looking… probably a student," she said.
"That's… kind of vague. Any chance you caught his name?"
"He never said."
"That might be a problem…"
"I think he was part-time," she added.
"Our part-timers rotate often. The longest anyone's stayed was about three weeks. I don't think we've had any student workers lately," the waiter replied.
The woman blinked. Something flickered in her eyes. A little lost, a little empty. Like someone who'd just said goodbye to a first love. She looked down and murmured, "Then please hold on to it. If he ever comes back, give it to him."
She rose to leave.
"You're not eating?" the waiter asked quickly.
"No." Chisama Sawako brushed something from her cheek—it may have been a tear, though she walked away without looking back, her silhouette stoic.
Five minutes later, at Table 27:
"Where is he? That young man?" bellowed a bejeweled woman well over three hundred pounds, shaking with urgency.
"Who?" the waiter asked, confused.
"The handsome one!" she snapped.
"...I mean, I think I'm not too bad-looking myself." The waiter touched his face. It wasn't vanity—he had been center-stage in his college fitness club photos.
"Don't flatter yourself!" the woman slammed the table. "Where's my 'Rose Prince'!?"
"Ma'am, please calm down. This is a regular restaurant, not… whatever you're imagining. We don't give staff code names!"
"No, I know he's real! Don't lie to me! Just let me see him one more time…" The woman, usually the kind who decided people's careers with a single word, now begged like a heartbroken teenager, tears sliding down her cheeks.
And this… had been happening for days.
Behind the counter, the manager stared at the rapidly shrinking foot traffic on the ledger, and the plummeting orders for premium dishes like deep-sea abalone and imperial king crab.
He fell into a long silence.
I could bear the darkness… if I had never seen the sun.
I could stand the subway crowds… if I hadn't once floored the pedal of a sports car.
After a long pause, the manager picked up his phone. He dialed a madam he often worked with.
"Do you know any host clubs?" he asked. "Got any surplus talent?"
...
"Ayane, why do you keep looking around?" her mom asked, puzzled.
"No reason. Just admiring the decor," Ayane cleared her throat and sat up straight.
But in truth, she felt a little empty inside.
Like passing that corner on the walk home from school—where a stray cat always lounged on the wall, sunning itself and swishing its tail.
But today, the cat was gone. And the moment of joy she'd expected vanished with it.
And now, she didn't know where—or when—it would appear again.