Fujikaze Yukie pulled her coat tighter, lowered the brim of her hat, and let a mask cover most of her face.
Her steps were hurried but deliberately light as she moved through the city's street corners again and again. When she reached her door, she took out her key and was about to insert it into the lock—only to find the door slightly ajar.
In an instant, it felt as if her heart had been seized, unable to move.
A burglar?
Or… had she been found?
Fujikaze Yukie's hand froze in midair. Cold sweat instantly soaked her back. She held her breath, pressed her ear to the crack of the door, and tried to catch any sound inside.
It was quiet—terrifyingly quiet. Only her own heartbeat thudded in her ears.
Should she run?
Just as she thought that, the door suddenly opened by itself.
No light was on inside. In the dimness, she could vaguely make out a figure sitting on the sofa, facing the doorway—features indistinguishable.
"Nice to meet you, Kazahana Koyuki. Come in."
This is my home…
Koyuki thought so, yet her legs moved on their own, carrying her inside. The door clicked shut behind her. Once she regained control, she leaned against the door, legs going weak, barely able to stand.
Then the figure stood and walked toward her.
In the low light, Koyuki saw a young woman with blue hair, a paper flower tucked into it.
"I know what you're thinking." Konan stopped, not coming any closer. "But you don't need to be afraid. I'm not someone Kazahana Dōtō sent."
Koyuki didn't relax at all. Her body stayed pressed against the door, her voice hoarse. "Do I look… easy to trick?"
"I have no need to trick you. I'm here to help you."
"Help me?"
Koyuki laughed. What kind of "help" pries open someone's door, controls the homeowner's body, then stands above them and declares goodwill?
"Help me with what? Help me get it over with sooner?"
Konan realized her approach had been improper, so she decided to skip past it and get straight to the point.
"Help you take revenge."
The air froze for several seconds.
Then Koyuki laughed again—each sound numb and hopeless. "You don't need to go to all that trouble to trick me into going back… Oh. I get it."
She reached behind her neck and unclasped a necklace she'd worn close to her body the entire time. It was a hexagonal crystal pendant—the only thing she'd carried out when she fled.
"This is what you came for, isn't it?"
She threw the necklace at Konan, rough and careless, as if it were just a stone picked up from the roadside. "Here. Take it. This is all I have… and it's the only thing of value the Land of Snow has left."
Konan caught it steadily. The touch was cold and hard, yet faintly, she could feel a trace of heat within it—this was the key to activating the Land of Snow's geothermal device.
She had what she came for.
Konan slipped the pendant into an inner pocket of her robe, right beside the logbook, and turned to leave.
Seeing her movement, Koyuki's taut body finally loosened. Like a puppet with its strings cut, she slid down the door and collapsed onto the floor.
Konan heard the dull thump behind her, and her feet stopped without her meaning to.
Koyuki's heart, which had just settled, jumped again. In her frightened gaze, Konan turned back and walked toward her.
So… you still won't let me go?
Koyuki shut her eyes in despair. But what she felt next was not pain—two hands slipped under her arms and lifted her up from the cold floor.
Koyuki opened her eyes in shock, meeting Konan's gaze. Those amber eyes looked strangely familiar.
…
Right. She'd seen them in the mirror—just like her own.
Eyes that had lost something important.
"What do you want, really?" Koyuki's voice no longer trembled. It was calm now, simply asking.
Konan parted her lips, but the words she meant to say stalled in her throat.
What do I want…?
She let go and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, the Fire Capital's countless lights spilled like a river of stars. The streets were packed with people—so different from the Land of Rain in her memories.
In the film, the "Princess of Storm and Cloud" was heroic and fearless. When her father was assassinated, when an enemy nation invaded, when ministers looked down on and tried to use the naive princess—she alone, with a sword, defeated every enemy. Then she burned down the palace that had trapped her, stepped into the sunrise, and became the "Queen of Storm and Cloud."
The film ended, but…
Then what?
Princess Fuuyun was Princess Fuuyun. Fujikaze Yukie was Fujikaze Yukie. Kazahana Koyuki was Kazahana Koyuki.
So who was she?
Konan… or Akatsuki's "White Tiger"?
Akatsuki's goal was to bring peace to the world, but… then what?
Only now did Konan realize: Akatsuki didn't need the geothermal generator at all, and the Land of Rain wouldn't change because of it. Even the logbook had already told her the answer—"peace" was not the ending of the story. Akatsuki had failed.
So why had she come here?
And what was she supposed to do next?
With a surge of irritation, Konan took out the hexagonal crystal necklace and handed it back to Koyuki—along with the paper flower from her hair.
"I'll come back for you again."
Before the words had even fully fallen, she had already turned and walked to the door. As she slid it open, Koyuki's hoarse voice came from behind her.
"I know you're not a good person… but I didn't expect you're not a bad person either."
Konan's steps paused imperceptibly at the threshold. She didn't look back. The cold wind lifted the hem of her robe as her figure gradually dissolved into the falling snow.
Night deepened. Even the bustling capital slowly grew quiet. One by one, lights along the streets went out, until only a few streetlamps swayed in the cold wind, stretching Konan's lonely shadow long across the ground.
She wandered through the empty streets without direction, like a homeless ghost.
"Miss, I've seen you a few times now. It's so late and you're still out here—are you lost?"
An elderly voice interrupted her thoughts.
Konan came back to herself and looked over. Around the corner, a simple grilled dango stall gave off a warm orange glow.
Behind it sat an old man, plainly dressed, hair white with age. Yet his eyes were clear—filled with gentle concern.
Konan paused, and for some reason, her heart—frozen for so long—suddenly rippled.
"Yes…"
Her voice was soft, almost scattered by the night wind.
"I'm lost."
"Miss, when you're lost, don't keep walking. If you walk until you're exhausted, you won't be able to move when you finally find the right direction." The old man pulled out a small stool from under the stall and patted the dust off it.
"If you don't mind, sit and rest for a while. Have a skewer of dumplings to warm yourself up."
The charcoal crackled. Konan stared at the jumping flames, hesitated for a moment, and finally walked over and sat down.