The days that followed passed in a quiet blur, as the city gradually folded into winter. The days after the trip drifted by with a kind of quiet inertia ,homework, cold mornings, and the soft grip of winter settling into the corners of the city. Without warning, the calendar moved ahead. It was already the 14th of December mid-December. Time had moved forward, as it always did, even if no one quite felt ready for it.The snow had arrived without fanfare.
Not with thunder or wind, not with blizzards or storms just quietly, as though the sky had exhaled a long-held breath. By morning, it blanketed the rooftops, silenced the roads, and turned the schoolyard into a canvas of white. The world felt slower, softer, but heavier in a way no one dared to explain.
Students filtered into the school wrapped in winter layers, voices muffled behind scarves and beanies. Laughter echoed down the hallways, but some carried a silence that only comes after the end of something meaningful.
Axel stood near the school gate, his breath visible in short, thoughtful puffs. His gloved hands were tucked into the pockets of his coat, guitar case slung over one shoulder. He didn't look up until he felt her presence.
Emi walked toward him, her steps careful, her coat a gentle beige that almost melted into the snowy world behind her. A knitted scarf covered half her face, but her eyes were uncovered and warm.
"You're early," she said, stopping beside him.
"You too," he replied.
They didn't speak more than that not right away. But something in the silence felt mutual. Understood.
At lunch, the atmosphere buzzed again with talk of the holidays. Christmas markets, New Year's plans, creative gift ideas it was all in the air. But it was Kyomi, as usual, who broke through the chatter with something unexpected.
"There's this inn," she announced, dropping her lunch tray with dramatic flair. "Just outside town. Winter Solstice Inn. They do this snow trail walk and light the whole thing up like a fairytale. We should go before New Year's."
Ito raised an eyebrow mid-bite. "You're planning a trip that doesn't involve shouting or kidnapping anyone into karaoke?"
She grinned. "Not this time."
"You say that every year."
"And every year, I get better at it," she replied, stealing a bite from his lunch and ducking his half-hearted attempt to swat her hand away.
Emi tilted her head. "It sounds… peaceful."
Axel's gaze flickered toward her, then to Kyomi. "Is this one of those 'no signal, no stress, all stars' kind of places?"
"Exactly," Kyomi beamed. "There's even a frozen lake nearby. Great for stargazing."
That sealed it. The group Axel, Emi, Kyomi, Ito, and a few others agreed to the plan, and by the end of the day, it was set. One weekend, a getaway. Nothing major. Just one last page in the chapter.
Or so they thought.
The snow was heavier by the time they arrived.
The inn sat nestled between dense pine trees, its wooden walls dusted with frost, the chimney letting out ribbons of smoke that drifted like dreams into the sky. Inside, everything smelled of warm cider and pinewood. A grandfather clock ticked faintly in the hallway, and boots thudded on welcome rugs.
Outside, it was another world white, endless, and quiet.
The first morning, the group took to the ski trails. Ito led the way, stubborn as always, carving a clumsy path through the snow with his boots.
"You call that a trail?" Kyomi huffed, trying to step beside, not into, the deep prints he left. "You're wrecking the rhythm."
"It's snow, not synchronized swimming," Ito mumbled, but he stopped anyway. She was shivering slightly.
Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and held it out.
Kyomi blinked. "You trying to score points or something?"
"You're cold," he said simply. "And this isn't a movie."
She took it reluctantly, sniffed once, then made a face. "Smells like engine oil."
"Yeah, well. That's real life."
Still, she wore it.
That night, after a quiet dinner, the group gathered in the common lounge. A fire cracked and popped gently in the hearth, throwing shadows along the stone walls. Someone played an old vinyl in the background, the kind of soft music that reminded you of things you couldn't quite remember.
Axel sat near the fire, his guitar across his lap, fingers resting on the strings but not moving.
Emi sat beside him. She didn't ask him to play. She didn't need to.
Instead, it was Kyomi who surprised everyone humming, softly, a tune no one knew. It wasn't exact, more like a suggestion of melody, fragile and unfinished. But Axel picked it up, fingers finding notes that shimmered like snowfall.
He strummed quietly, the notes falling into rhythm. Emi closed her eyes. For a moment, it felt like they were all in a memory not yet lived.
"What's that?" Emi whispered.
"I don't know yet," Axel replied. "Maybe something that started back at the campfire. Maybe before that."as he joined in with Kyomi.
"Ash Between the Snow"
Axel (softly, strumming):
"The fire burned low, but I stayed there still,
My fingers numb, but chasing the thrill.
The silence spoke more than we ever did,
In a room full of light, I quietly hid."
Emi (joining in, gentle but clear):
"The snow didn't ask why we wandered this far,
It just covered the tracks of who we are.
You don't need to sing what you can't explain,
I heard it all in the chords you didn't name."
Axel (chuckles, replies):
"And yet you knew the melody right,
As if your heart had written it overnight.
When words fell short, you just hummed along,
A broken voice, completing the song."
Emi (smirking):
"You think too much when the sky is gray,
Some things bloom when you look away.
I never asked for poems or signs
Just someone who listens between the lines."
Kyomi (from the corner, grinning):
"You two are like lyrics out of tune,
Still fit the rhythm like sun and moon.
But hey, save some drama for the final act,
Or Ito might faint from emotional impact."
Ito (muttering):
"If I collapse, it's from all your loud ideas
Like snow trails at dawn and late-night teas."
Kyomi (teasing):
"You gave me your jacket, so quit your fuss,
It still smells like oil but it works for us."
All (together, soft fade):
"We were ashes once, floating slow,
But found our warmth in falling snow.
If this is the end, let it begin,
Where silent notes still hum within."
They all sang together sitting near the fireplace dispersing light and warmth in the air as night settled in, with the hush of falling snow brushing rooftops and windows, something quiet lingered like the ash between the snow, waiting, forgotten, but never quite gone.