[Victor’s Route – Intro]
The stream of traffic on Finance Street at the height of the workday rush hour.
A tide of people streamed in and out of office buildings. A new day of work had begun.
The city ran as usual, with people going about their business, everything seemingly normal and fine.
A white light reflected off the glass exterior right in my face, making me dizzy.
In that instant, a murky scene lurking in my mind flashed through my consciousness and into reality.
The familiar intersection before me was somehow now a scene of shocking gore and violence.
I rubbed my eyes in fright, and in the next moment everything became serene again.
{{MC}}: I’ve worked so much overtime, I’m seeing things…
This whole week I’ve had my nose to the grindstone working on an upcoming quarterly proposal.
But no matter how busy, I still couldn’t get that absurd yet lifelike vision out of my head.
Although I didn’t want to face it, a hunch had sprouted in my mind–
Those snippets of disaster might not be imaginary, but this peaceful world also really existed.
Between the two, some decisive factor caused a change of course.
If there really is a savior of the world, then I’d really like to thank them.
Thanks for saving this world we’ve grown accustomed to, and this peace we can’t do without.
This might not be the best of worlds, but it’s the one I most yearn for.
I smiled at my reflection in the glass and walked toward LFG.
Another wave of commuters streamed out from the subway, suddenly crowding the street.
In the jostling crowd, I didn’t notice a patch of ice in front of me and started slipping.
Just at that moment, a hand reached out and caught me by the wrist.
The pressure let up as soon as I was steadied, and an impatient sigh sounded overhead.
Victor: I saw you gawking on the street from my car. Has working on that proposal turned your brain to mush?
His face was as stern as ever, except for a hint of concern in the crease between his brows.
No matter what world we’re in, Victor would never break that habit–
Sharp-tongued yet soft-hearted. Not saying what he really thinks. A lot like the winter sun.
Seemingly as bitter as the winter wind, but once you get close, there’s a distinct warmth.
Victor: Let’s go. I haven’t given you much time for your report today.
Without another look at me, he walked off, but at an intentionally slow pace.
I immediately hurried after, and with full self-confidence, I gave him an “OK” sign.
{{MC}}: Don’t worry. This time I’ll be short and sweet.
{{MC}}: And this time, I’ll definitely make you say something other than just “not bad”!
Victor: For example, “Go back and start over”?
{{MC}}: Like, “Job well done!”
He gave me a look of complete indifference, but a slight smirk on his lips indicated anticipation.
Victor: I’m on the edge of my seat.
{{MC}}: If your comment this time is “not bad”, then I’ll…
Victor: You’ll what?
Victor looked at me with great interest, as if regrading a plucky, yet weak object of prey.
I drew in my neck, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of my sails.
{{MC}}: I’ll have to assume “job well done” autocorrects as “not bad” in your brain…
Victor: Does that mean you’re giving up?
{{MC}}: Of course not!
I confidently patted the proposal booklet in my bag, trying to build myself up again.
{{MC}}: If that is how it comes out of your brain, then I’ll just re-correct it!
Victor: Oh? Then give it your best shot.
Victor: We’ll see whether you really didn’t do well enough before, or–
Victor: Whether the phrase “job well done” really isn’t in my vocabulary.
He said the words very deliberately, each syllable landing with a thud, piercing my every cell.
{{MC}}: And if I do get you to say it, will there be a reward?
Victor: Isn’t hearing me say that a reward in itself?
Unable to come up with a retort, all I could do was blush at his teasing expression.
Victor: As for whether you can get an extra reward, that depends on your performance.
My report was well-received. Victor also shot me an approving look, but he never said those words.
He quietly added a few suggestions for improvement and then rushed off to his next meeting.
After getting back to my office, I also got a message from him.
Victor: “Today’s performance was just good enough for a consolation prize. I’ll pick you up after work.”
{{MC}}: …Do all of his compliments have to be back-handed?
I muttered in protest, but I also eagerly sent him a reply.
At 6 p.m. on the dot, I got another message from him that he was waiting downstairs.
In the gathering dusk, his tall frame stood next to the car, flakes of snow fluttering around him.
Snowflakes settled on his shoulders. It was a more beautiful snowy scene than I’d ever seen.
Victor: You really do take your sweet time.
{{MC}}: It’s snowing, huh…
Without another word, he opened the passenger door for me and returned to the driver’s side.
The car pulled away. Streetlights shone on his faintly-smiling face.
Everything was totally different from those snippets of blurry visions. All was peaceful.
Victor: You’re so quiet today.
{{MC}}: Am I usually so noisy…?
I turned to him and saw he was focused on the road ahead, hands steady on the wheel.
At a red light, he turned his head and looked at me.
Victor: If there’s something bothering you, just ask, like always.
So he’d noticed.
No one else had, but he picked up on my anxiety immediately.
Victor: Saying what’s on your mind is one of your few good qualities. Don’t lose it.
As the light changed, his eyes returned to the road, but his words still lingered like a warm hug.
I felt wrapped up firmly in it, and finally relaxed my tightly-wound nerves.
{{MC}}: I…
I had so much to say, I didn’t know where to start.
I didn’t know which of my visions were real memories. I was afraid he’d mock me.
More importantly, if they were all real, that’s not a world I’d want him to know about.
I dug my fingers into my seatbelt and bit my lip as I sunk into silence.
I lowered my head and stared at the dash board. The only sound was the clicking of the turn signal.
It sounded like that stopwatch I’d heard before. Each click jabbed at my heart.
Victor suddenly chuckled and took hold of my hand that was picking at my seatbelt.
Victor: Forget it. Let’s eat first.
The neon lights from the street faintly illuminated the interior of the car.
Just like how his gentleness permeated my heart, injecting a bit a warmth.
[Victor’s Route – 1]
Soon, we’d arrived at Souvenir.
It was decorated the same as before, and also just as desolate– not a single customer in sight.
The only change was the expression on Victor’s face.
He probably didn’t realize himself how his tightly-drawn lips relaxed into a smile upon entering.
He hung up his coat and headed off to the kitchen. With nothing else to do, I hurried after him.
Since coming in, I had a sense that something was off. Now, it finally hit me–
{{MC}}: Is Mr. Mills not in today?
Victor: He’s taking a few days off.
As he spoke, Victor had put on his chef’s clothes and was meticulously rolling up his sleeves.
Seeing him so busy, I didn’t feel right just standing there, so I ventured a question:
{{MC}}: So does that mean you’re in need of a “sous chef” at the moment?
Hearing this, he gave me a look with brows raised that practically spelled out: “Do not disturb”.
But I still couldn’t help wanting to lend a hand, so I disregarded his glare.
I stopped his hand and helped him roll up his shirt sleeves.
{{MC}}: See? See? Pretty good, right? Perfectly aligned!
Victor: …Not bad.
As Victor spoke, he worked back over the creases I had left and readjusted his sleeves.
Victor: Why don’t you have a seat out in the dining area?
Clearly this was just a slightly nicer way of telling me to scram.
Even with all the signals he was giving, I still hadn’t given up my quest to be useful.
One reason was because I wanted to help, but there was another: I was afraid to wait alone.
Those disaster-film scenes also seemed to pounce on me in moments like those.
Only when I was together with him could I let myself relax a bit.
{{MC}}: …Rolling up sleeves may not be my thing, but I’m a pro at washing veggies!
I sidled up to the sink and earnestly pushed up my sleeves.
The sight of Victor’s tensed brow suddenly reminded me of something, and I recoiled.
{{MC}}: Uh… You probably don’t allow others to use your kitchen, do you?
Victor eyed me over and let out a sigh.
Then, he took off his apron and put it on me.
In that instant, his scent washed over me, and I could feel his reassuring warmth through the cloth.
{{MC}}: If you give me the apron, what’ll you do?
Victor: Just worry about yourself, dummy.
As I was about to say something else, he stuck a head of broccoli in my hand and walked off.
Victor: Less talk, more washing.
{{MC}}: Oh…
Glistening water splashed over my hands. The only sound was the music of food being prepared.
{{MC}}: By the way, what will today’s bill be? Not replying to comments again, I hope…
Victor sighed, never taking his eyes off the steak he was preparing.
Victor: The restaurant isn’t technically open today. No bill necessary.
Victor: Moreover, have you forgotten this is your reward?
Before I could respond, lightly spoken words of praise wafted on the air.
Victor: Decent job.
Victor had actually praised me!
I was stunned, unable to think as he walked over to me and took the broccoli out of my hand.
{{MC}}: …Wait! I only washed one side!
I hastily snatched the broccoli back and scrubbed it some more.
Even over the loud running water, I could distinctly make out a chuckle coming from him.
Victor: When you’re finished, give me the butter.
{{MC}}: Butter… where is that?
Victor: On the shelf in front of you. Third from the right.
Victor pointed with precision– without even lifting his head– and continued what he was doing.
I grabbed for the butter, unexpectedly knocking over the condiments and sauces around it…
There was a huge clatter, and the shelf was a mess. My formerly pristine apron was also stained…
{{MC}}: I… You… It… Sorry!
Victor scowled and pulled me to him, wiping the splotches off my apron with a napkin.
Victor: Is there anything you can do that would surprise me?
{{MC}}: I didn’t think…
Victor: Really? Because I thought of it for you.
As he teased me, he took the butter from my hands.
Victor: Let’s eat first and then clean up.
All I could do was nod in embarrassment. The fact he didn’t kick me out was already lenient of him.
Time passed, and I busily fulfilled his requests, searching through cabinets for needed items.
I suddenly realized, he could probably work faster on his own, but he kept his “sous chef” anyway!
With that thought in mind, a warmth came over me, mixing with the fragrant smells of cooking.
After not long, Victor expertly removed the steaks from the oven and seasoned them lightly.
Victor: Hand me some plates.
{{MC}}: Plates. Huh? Where?
Victor: Cabinet above your head. Second shelf from the bottom.
I looked where he described and found the cabinet, just a few inches over my head.
But what I didn’t expect was that the “second shelf” was out of my reach, even on tip-toe.
As I was considering whether to get a chair, Victor’s hand reached past my head for the plates.
{{MC}}: Your cabinets are installed too high… I’m not that tall…
Hearing me mutter, he gave me a look.
Victor: Right. In the future, I’ll take your height into consideration.
I turned and found he was calmly putting the finishing touches on his “masterpiece”.
Black pepper sauce was drizzled next to the steak, alongside a heap of mashed potatoes and broccoli.
It looked irresistible, like Victor’s own smile. I was overcome with anticipation.
[Victor’s Route – 3]
Outside the window, the snow seemed to be falling harder, as if it could blanket the world.
Maybe it was the weather or the lack of people, but I felt like the lights were dimmer than before.
Just a pale, warm glow lit up the room, glinting across Victor’s eyebrows and hair.
After getting my chair, Victor then set the needle on the record player before sitting down himself.
It was just the two of us in the spacious restaurant, but it didn’t feel a bit lonely.
The music and exquisitely-plated food got my appetite going, but the knife and fork gave me pause.
In the dim candlelight, the cold knife blade gave off a twisted black shadow, like a writhing snake.
As I was about to grab the knife handle, the black shadow grabbed my wrist and bit into my vein.
Although I knew I was hallucinating, I still felt a stabbing pain as my heart jumped.
My hand released the knife, and it fell to the spotless floor with a clang.
…in striking contrast to the thudding beat of my heart.
{{MC}}: Ah! I’ll get it…
Before I could stop Victor, he had already nonchalantly bent down.
I faintly saw the swirl of hair on his head sway, and it stirred up waves in my heart.
{{MC}}: Victor…
Victor: Whatever it is, just say it.
You’re really great…
Not just your encouragement, or this dinner tonight. Everything about you is great.
In this quiet, peaceful world, being able to sit and eat dinner with him is truly wonderful.
Seeing that I wasn’t responding, a flicker of doubt flashed across Victor’s placid face.
He wiped off the blade and placed it back next to me. This time, the shadow was gone.
Victor watched me in silence, seemingly waiting for me to start talking first.
His dark eyes looked totally different than when discussing work, irresistibly charming and tender.
Victor: {{mc}}, you’ve been biting your tongue all day.
{{MC}}: I…
I still didn’t want to get him wrapped up in those impractical troubles.
No matter what he was like in those memories, I only want Victor to be himself, here and now.
This untouched, original him was just fine.
Fearing he would keep digging, I mustered a smile.
I hoped it didn’t look too fake.
{{MC}}: I’m fine.
To my surprise, Victor didn’t say anything. He just shot me a glance and picked up his utensils.
As his fork and knife clattered on his plate, he spoke up:
Victor: If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine.
Victor: But don’t waste the food.
His words were stern, but there wasn’t a hint of reproach in his tone. It was quite caring.
Victor: If you don’t eat, I’ll just take it and get the next course.
{{MC}}: …I’m eating! I’m eating!
Seeing him about to take my plate away, I hastily reached out to stop him.
He sat silently and watched me eat, serving up the next course at just the right time.
His movements were natural and fluid, just like his care for me.
I could feel it trickling through my heart, smoothly and silently.
Suddenly, all my troubles and worries seemed to have been wiped clean.
The hour hand was pointing to nine when Victor and I finally finished dinner.
{{MC}}: I’m– a little too full…
Victor: I didn’t cook that much.
{{MC}}: Oh? Steak, Marseilles Bouillabaisse, all those veggies, plus wine. Not much?
Victor: …No other talents, but she’s a quick study on bantering.
{{MC}}: That’s because I’m a fast learner!
Victor: You’ve gotten a lot of speaking practice. Now, how about working on your ability to do work?
{{MC}}: You don’t have to remind me…
Though I was resigned to my task, entering that messy kitchen had me overwhelmed.
I cast a furtive glance at Victor to see him taking out a pair of rubber gloves and a fresh apron.
Victor: Put these on.
{{MC}}: Oh, right…
I reached out to take them, but he was quicker than I expected.
He had opened up a glove, placed it firmly over my hand, and said laughingly:
Victor: Don’t always be so clumsy.
I didn’t know what to say. I just stared blankly at his hair shining in the light.
After helping me put on the gloves and apron, Victor then tucked my hair behind my ears.
Victor: Not trying to argue your way out of this? That’s new.
I just kept looking at him. In the dim light, the snow outside suddenly seemed to fall faster.
{{MC}}: Don’t you think winter’s come a little early this year?
Victor: What does that have to do with anything?
{{MC}}: Well, winter’s only just begun, and it’s already snowing so hard…
Victor: Since when did you become a meteorologist?
{{MC}}: I just…
Victor adjusted my apron and gave me a look-over.
Victor: Relax. Whatever you’re worrying about, it won’t come to pass.
He was always able to cut right to my core, and then comfort me in his unique way.
The snow outside was pounding against the window, but that fear in my heart had dissipated.
Meanwhile, that gentle look in Victor’s eye had turned to disdain.
Victor: You’ve come to a complete standstill. Are you planning to be cleaning here all night?
Victor: And another thing, don’t forget to turn in the revised proposal tomorrow.
{{MC}}: …Naturally.
Turning a conversation inevitably to work was also part of Victor’s unique style of comforting you.
I tried to shut out those faint murmurs within me and focus on the peace of being with him.
(Victor’s Call: Care)https://youtu.be/cy8-3OCjS68?si=w06aw17wvo9Q5RFV
[Victor’s Route – 4]
Heeding Victor’s call to “finish that report, no matter how much snow”, I came to LFG the next day.
I had dark circles under my eyes from pulling an all-nighter making revisions.
The other employees were as busy as ever, too rushed to lift their heads and look around.
This kind of environment suddenly felt very nice to me.
A bustling, yet serene world. So nice.
I knocked on the office door and tried to look energized. When he answered, I entered–
{{MC}}: Mr. Victor, I’ve braved the elements to deliver your proposal!
Victor took off his glasses, rubbing his brow. As he looked at me, he frowned again.
Victor: That eye makeup you’re wearing doesn’t suit you.
{{MC}}: Huh? I’m not wearing…
Was he talking about the dark circles under my eyes?!
Sure enough, he started laughing. Then he took the proposal I’d worked so hard on revising.
Victor: Any plans for today?
{{MC}}: Um… there’s a shoot I need to…
Victor: Hm… the proposal will do.
That’s all he had to say about it, as if yesterday’s tender comfort was just a pleasant dream I had.
Although, I certainly didn’t detest this work-mode, all-business side of Victor either.
As I left, I glanced at my watch. The set for the shoot was over an hour away, so I hurried off.
This show was for Loveland TV primetime. Anna and the others had pulled many all-nighters already.
After they’d put in all that hard work, I couldn’t just drop the ball at the crucial moment.
When I got to the set, people were already mostly there, except for the special guest.
Kiki and Willow, who were roaming around the cameras, came running over upon seeing me.
Willow: You made it! Anna thought you’d be tied up at LFG all morning.
Kiki: Yeah, yeah… Woah, Boss, have you been up all night again?!
Kiki pointed at my eyes with a look of shock.
{{MC}}: I’m fine. How are the preparations going over here?
Willow: A-OK. Don’t you worry!
As she said that, Kiki picked up her phone and shouted:
Kiki: Oh no! The guest said their car is stuck in the snow!
{{MC}}: What do you mean?!
Kiki: They said the snow is getting heavier, and the streets are shutting down…
I looked outside the tent. Last night it was sprinkling, but now it was like a flurry of goose down.
My heart sank, and then my phone suddenly went off–
Victor: Are you there?
{{MC}}: I… just got here. What’s up?
Victor: Nothing. Just making sure you made it.
Victor: It’s snowing hard. Take care on your way back.
{{MC}}: Right, you too!
Victor checking in on me made me feel warm and fuzzy, but I had no time to savor it.
After hanging up, I started working up a solution on the set.
{{MC}}: Kiki, you stay in touch with the guest. There should be rescue teams available.
{{MC}}: If there’s really no other way, we’ll find a nearby place with less snow.
{{MC}}: But he’d have to walk a little ways…
Kiki: Alright!
Just then, I heard Anna’s voice, sounding quite surprised.
Anna: Mr. Chuck! How did you get here in such heavy snow?
Grandpa Chuck?!
The stern expression on his wizened brow deepened upon seeing me.
I rushed over to him, with no time to consider how many surprises were piling up today.
{{MC}}: Grandpa Chuck, what are you doing here?
Grandpa Chuck: Young lady, you…
He let out a sigh and took a look around.
Grandpa Chuck: I have something I want to tell you right now.
{{MC}}: But…
As I hesitated, Anna held up a big “OK” sign with her hand.
Set at ease by this, I went with him to a nearby, simple tea house.
The aroma of tea wafted in the air. This place felt completely untouched by the blizzard outside.
{{MC}}: Grandpa Chuck, is it something urgent? And how did you know I was here? You…
He held up his hand in a “stop” gesture and then slowly opened his pursed lips.
Grandpa Chuck: You and your father really were cut from the same cloth.
Grandpa Chuck: When it’s time to shoot a show, everything else takes a back seat.
I didn’t quite know what to make of his opening remarks. Outside the snow seemed to fall heavier.
A torrent of wind and snow pounded the thin glass, as if coming to swallow me.
Those scenes in my mind that I’d escaped for so long crept up clearly once again.
A collection of fighting, looting, and the ugly side of humanity.
It was the complete opposite of the pure white world I saw before me.
Grandpa Chuck followed my gaze out the window, then sipped his tea and continued.
Grandpa Chuck: You’ve been working on shows all this time?
{{MC}}: Yes, that’s right. Recently we landed a big blockbuster show.
{{MC}}: This company is Dad’s legacy, so I want to make sure it thrives.
I was speaking from my heart, but Grandpa Chuck shook his head and sighed.
Grandpa Chuck: Loving your work is a good thing… but you haven’t attended to outside matters in awhile, have you?
{{MC}}: Outside matters…?
Grandpa Chuck: Your dad once said to me, if you stay cooped up in a room, you can’t make good shows.
Although I didn’t fully understanding him, I listened on to Grandpa Chuck anyway.
Did he really come at a time like this just to talk to me about making shows?
Or, was there some deeper meaning to his words?
The intensifying snow outside looked like TV static. It was all a big, white blur.
Just like those foggy, fragmented snippets in my mind.
If the world we’re in right now was “inside”…
Then those frightening scenes I vaguely remembered would have happened in an “outside” world?
Were those things that I just observed from the sideline, or did I participate in them?
As I thought more deeply on it, suddenly my heart felt like it was being wrung by a pair of invisible hands, to the point I was gasping for breath.
With shaking hands, I lifted my tea cup, in which floated several leaves that had escaped the sieve.
They drifted aimlessly, like my emotions these past couple days.
I sipped, and the tea’s bitter kick brought with it a realization that I’d been avoiding all along:
Before a problem can be solved, it must be addressed head on.
{{MC}}: Grandpa Chuck, thank you.
What I had to do now very well could be to exit from this “inside”.
[Victor’s Route – 6]
The shoot didn’t go smoothly, and when we got out, day had turned into night.
Streetlights lit up the street, catching the snow and receding into the distance, like a painting.
The lit-up city Victor and I had looked out over was now blanketed with layers of snow.
It was as if frozen in ice, incomparably still and silent.
Peaceful, beautiful. Basically, the kind of world that I most longed for.
The fog over my memories lifted a bit, and I was shocked to discover the person calling the shots in all that chaos wasn’t someone else–
–it was me.
The person that I’d been wanting to thank for protecting the peace–
–it was myself all along.
I even remembered being held in Victor’s embrace, warm and cozy.
But I couldn’t remember why his expression was so pained, or why there were tears in his eyes.
The last frame in my memory was of his distraught face.
And from his recent behavior, it seemed to be something he had no idea had happened.
This world’s Victor was doing great.
He wouldn’t shed tears of sorrow. He was still that captain-of-industry Victor.
The other people in this world were also doing great.
No need to bicker or brawl. They could just live normal lives.
Even if it wasn’t real, it was still good…
{{MC}}: Um?
The thought that had popped in my mind had me momentarily stunned.
Thankfully I’d paused now, otherwise I would’ve walked obliviously into traffic.
I sheepishly drew back my foot, only to find the cars were all frozen like they were a second ago.
The whole world was still, with only the sound of hurried footsteps coming from across the street.
Falling snow was suspended between countless headlights, falling on the man walking toward me.
I looked up and was swooped up by Victor, who was coming at me at almost a run.
His arms gripped tightly, as if he was trying to press me into his body.
I was surrounded by his scent, and his firm, forceful heartbeat.
Again, and again, it struck against my own heart.
{{MC}}: Vi…
{{MC}}: Victor…
The voice in my ear had a slightly nervous tremor to it:
Victor: How many times am I going to have to save you on the street!
{{MC}}: I…
This face before me straining with tension overlapped with the grief-stricken face from my memory.
Apparently, I was the only one who could make this unflappable man look like that.
My nose started stinging. All I could do was close my eyes to keep myself from crying.
But closing my eyes tight actually squeezed the tears out.
Victor let me go. Seeing my red cheeks, he frowned and wrapped his own scarf around me.
Then he drew me to his chest again.
{{MC}}: Victor… do you find me to be a burden?
After hearing that, he didn’t respond right away.
His firm arms loosened and then held me tighter still, his heat warming every nerve in my body.
After a long while, the sound of a drawn-out “Dummy” came from above me.
When I had settled down a bit, he let me go and started plucking snowflakes off my head.
He wrapped my hand up in his and walked me to the curb.
In a twinkling, the sound of car horns started up again.
The snow fluttered down. Time had resumed.
He held a black umbrella over my head, shielding me from the fluttering snowflakes.
We walked slowly, maybe because the snow was falling harder, or perhaps some other reason.
After walking a while, the sound of passers-by drowned out the traffic– it was a lively scene.
It was then I noticed, the trees were all hung with colored lights, as if for a celebration.
After all, even such a hard snow hadn’t put a damper on people’s festive spirit.
Just like the most dreadful disasters can’t rob people of their hope.
{{MC}}: Victor, I saw Grandpa Chuck today.
He looked at me a bit startled, but quickly recovered his usual calm demeanor.
Victor: Pestering him again to help you with a show?
{{MC}}: No… it was him who came looking for me.
After broaching the subject, I once again didn’t know how to proceed with him.
I don’t want to bring back memories of that world for him. I don’t want to see him make that face.
But, even with me saying nothing, there was still a hint of red in his eye.
He looked seriously at me. Those twinkling lights reflected in his eyes like stars.
Then, that glint suddenly brimmed out and fell from the corner of his eye.
My heart leapt at the sight. It was just like in my memory, that tear falling onto my face…
Could he be thinking of those events too?
Then, that real world where those events happened, was that the place that we came from?
I tremblingly lifted my head, wanting to wipe away that tear I couldn’t wipe away in time before.
But, as my finger stroked his cheek, I found it was dry. There wasn’t even a trace of a tear.
Victor: Just what is it that happened?
He took my wrist and didn’t let go, his tone and his face both filled with concern.
The same tenderness. The same Victor. The only thing different was me, stalling to make a decision.
In a flash, a scene that left us both in bitter despair played perfectly clearly in my mind–
His eyes shot through with red. The tears welling up. His sorrowful expression…
And that dagger gleaming with a cold light.
So, that’s what those scenes I couldn’t remember were like.
So, because I’d gone my own way, I had also hurt him deeply.
A bitter taste suddenly stung my mouth. It was a frigid tear that had fallen noiselessly.
Victor carefully brushed away the tear and took me back deep into his embrace.
{{MC}}: What if this really is a dream? Then what?
Victor: Then I’ll turn it into reality.
The snow fell harder and harder, falling with an oppressive sound amidst the shrill north wind.
Like some kind of warning.
Gradually, I felt my eyes turning blurry, along with everything around me.
Even Victor’s embrace gradually turned to nothingness…
A fierce chill filled my body, freezing it stiff. Victor seemed to have been absorbed into the snow.
I lifted my hand to my cheek. The warmth from his fingertip still lingered there.
Lingering with me to face head on all that lay before me.