The sound of snow filled the quiet night. In the small-town café Lumière, Riko busied herself with closing preparations, glancing at the clock.
8:55 PM—right when Mine usually arrived.
He was a man of few words, distant and reserved. Yet, the photographs he placed on the counter captivated Riko. Snow-covered landscapes, footprints trailing through untouched white, moonlight shimmering on a frozen stream. His silence spoke volumes through the images he captured.
“Why do you live in such a secluded place?” she once asked.
That night, Mine spoke more than usual.
He told her about the days he had spent in the snow with someone he once loved. And how, after that person left, he had retreated to the mountains, hoping to sort through the remnants of his past.
“Snow hides memories,” he had murmured. “But it doesn’t erase them completely.”
Those words lingered in Riko’s heart.
Then, one night, during a heavy snowstorm, Mine stopped coming.
The café door remained still. The next night, too. And the one after that.
All Riko could do was stare at the photographs he had left behind.
“Something must have happened.”
Determined, she set out to find him.
As soon as the storm cleared, she followed a map and trudged through deep snow toward his remote cabin. The bitter cold seeped into her bones, but when she spotted a faint light ahead, her eyes welled up with tears.
Inside, Mine sat, surrounded by his photographs. He looked up, surprised, then gave a faint smile.
“Why are you here?”
“Why did you stop coming?”
Silence stretched between them before Mine finally spoke.
“I decided… to stop hiding in the snow.”
He reached for a photograph and handed it to her.
It wasn’t a snowy landscape.
It was a picture of her—smiling at the café.
“This became my new view,” he admitted. “But… I didn’t want to trouble you anymore.”
Riko studied the photo, then looked up at him.
“Mine, I’ll always be waiting. At the café. Anytime.”
As she left, her footprints quickly vanished beneath the snow.
But soon after, the door of Lumière opened once more, and Mine returned.
In the heart of the coldest winter, their quiet conversations at the café became the warmest place in town.
