The next day, they visited Rane and Soleia.
The dogs were the first to run down the snowy path. Soleia greeted Arika with genuine joy, taking her hand.
—Come on, let's take these rascals out to the yard. Then I'll give you a dessert I made.
Arika nodded and followed her.
Rane frowned.
—That sounds serious.
He looked toward the door leading to the patio, where the dogs' barking and Soleia's calm voice could be heard in the distance.
Then he turned his gaze to Haru.
—Let's go to my room —he said in a low voice—. We can talk more calmly there.
Haru nodded.
They both climbed the stairs in silence. When Rane closed the door to her room, the atmosphere grew quieter, isolated from the rest of the house.
Then Haru spoke again.
—Do you remember what my grandfather used to say… about the creatures and all that?
Rane let out a small, nostalgic smile.
—How could I forget? —he said—. We used to spend hours listening to his stories.
Haru looked down.
—I think… one of those stories might be real.
Rane's smile faded.
—Haru…
Then Haru told him everything.
He told him about Arika's wound. About how it had disappeared in a matter of hours.
When he finished, there was a long silence.
Rane stared at him.
—You're joking… right? —he said finally—. Tell me it's a joke.
—I wish it were.
Rane stood up and paced a few steps around the room.
—That's not possible. Wounds don't just disappear like that.
He stopped and looked at him again.
—Everything's been weird ever since that girl showed up…
Haru shook his head firmly.
—It's not her fault.
Rane fell silent.
Haru hesitated for a moment before continuing.
—Maybe… it's exactly what my grandfather was talking about.
Rane let out an incredulous laugh.
—Mysterious creatures? Do you really believe that?
Haru held his gaze.
—Yes."
He paused before adding:
—It was thanks to her that I found the flower I'd been searching for so long."
Rane blinked, surprised.
—¿The flower…? Don't tell me it's…
—That's right, she found it in the middle of this cold winter.
Rane froze.
That flower had been the reason for years of searching.
—So… —he murmured slowly — it's all because of her? Haru nodded.
Rane exhaled slowly and sat back down.
Silence settled between them as he tried to gather his thoughts.
Outside, the distant barking of dogs and Soleia's calm voice could be heard.
Finally, Rane spoke.
—So… maybe that's why she appeared beneath the cliff.
Haru looked up.
—Maybe someone was chasing her —Rane continued —. If so, her identity must remain hidden.
Haru nodded, uneasily.
Rane placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
—You're not alone in this.
His voice was low, but firm.
—We'll carry that burden together.
For the first time in days, Haru breathed with something resembling calm.
Time kept moving forward.
Haru worked as a janitor at the village orphanage. When he had to be away, Arika stayed with Soleia or Rane. On weekends they returned home, where life seemed, at times, almost normal.
With every new wound Arika sustained, Haru performed the same secret ritual without her noticing, the same necessary lie.
Until the day Haru had feared for years arrived.
Kwan.
The old companion lay down by the fire that night. His breathing was slow, weary. Haru stayed by his side, stroking his now-gray fur.
—Good boy… you were always a good boy…
Memories of Eleonora struck him with every heartbeat.
When Kwan exhaled for the last time, Haru pressed his forehead against Kwan's. He didn't cry right away. The pain was too deep, too old.
They buried him under a tree near the forest. Where Eleonora had loved to walk.
The ground was hard from the cold, and every shovelful was slow, heavy.
No one spoke.
When they were done, Haru stood in front of the small snow-covered mound. Her breath was visible in the freezing air.
Rain stood a few steps away, motionless. Iris didn't move from the spot.
The wind swept through the trees.
Haru finally turned around.
—Let's go — he said quietly.
Arika followed him without saying a word.
Later, they sat outside the house on the wooden bench.
The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but it was heavy.
The white landscape stretched out before them, untouched.
Arika gazed into the distance.
—I'm sorry…—she said after a while.
Haru didn't respond right away.
He turned his head slightly toward her.
—About Kwan?
Arika nodded.
—Yes.
Haru looked down.
—Thank you.
The wind blew between them, barely stirring their clothes.
Haru clasped his hands, lost in thought.
—Arika… —he said after a moment—. Do you know what it means to say that?
She looked up at him.
—That?
—To say 'I'm sorry'… or 'thank you.' Do you remember?
She looked at him.
—No.
She didn't hesitate.
—Then why do you say it?
—Rane explained it to me.
Haru fell silent.
—He said… there are words that need to be said at certain times —she continued—. Even if I don't understand them… or don't feel them.
Her eyes returned to the landscape.
—It makes it easier for others.
The wind blew between them.
Haru let out an almost inaudible sigh.
—I see…
He took a deep breath and fixed his gaze on the white landscape.
—But you don't have to do that with me.
Arika looked at him.
—You don't have to be like everyone else —he added—. You don't have to be… ordinary.
The wind blew again.
—What makes you different… —Haru continued— is what makes you special.
Arika looked down at her hands.
—So… it doesn't matter?
Her voice was calm, as always.
Haru shook his head slowly.
—No.
He paused briefly.
—Who you are… is enough.
Arika didn't answer.
But she didn't look away this time either.
Haru rested his elbows on his knees, gazing at the white horizon.
—Kwan didn't need words —he murmured—. He just… was.
Silence returned.
Arika turned her gaze toward the forest.
—Then… he's still there —she said.
Haru turned his head slightly.
—Only not here anymore.
The wind swept through the space between them.
The dogs moved a little closer, settling down near them.
And though the emptiness was still there…
it didn't feel so cold anymore.