Chapter 222: External Crisis

The old short-term rental apartment leaned against a deep, narrow alley; Hokkaido’s winter had brought a rare stretch of clear days.

Yet the bustling commercial district, brimming with modern air, cut off all warmth and clamor a few blocks away, leaving only a few wisps of light like table scraps, barely piercing the frost-covered glass to fall into the room.

The beam of light stirred up a few specks of dust in midair, then soundlessly drowned in the dark shadows of the tatami, like a stone falling into the deep sea, unable to raise even a ripple.

These past few days, even with the sun shining bright, a chilling gloom still seeped through the house.

The snow on the streets along the way had not fully melted, pooling as muddy black water in the corners of the walls, decaying in the shadows, as though the city itself had sunk into a long twilight.

Aina Saiten sat quietly at the kotatsu table in the living room, her fingers unconsciously smoothing out the much-creased convenience store payment receipt.

It was afternoon now, and most of the tenants in the old apartment were still napping; aside from the whistling wind that swept through the long alley, there was no other sound.

So quiet… This was exactly the time she needed to clear her thoughts.

This logistics tracking number, peeled off from the receipt, was like a tiny loose thread, and over the past few hours Aina had used the intricate Hokkaido transit network on her phone screen to slowly pull that thread back.

Her fingertip rested on a spot marked with a red dot on the screen — the Minami Ward Abandoned Transit Station.

Less than 200 meters from this red dot was the surveillance-covered hidden route they had deliberately avoided when they first arrived in Hokkaido.

“Akane.”

She folded the receipt and pressed it under a book, then turned her head to look at Kaoru Hoshitani, who was washing cups at the kitchen counter.

The boy’s back looked thin and meek.

He was looking up out the window, a sponge pinched between his fingertips, uneasily peering down at the alley below.

At the mouth of the alley stood an unfamiliar woman in a dark down jacket, a cigarette in her mouth.

When Kaoru Hoshitani’s gaze fell on her, the woman seemed to sense something, immediately pulled her hat brim lower, and turned to vanish into the shadows at the corner.

Kaoru Hoshitani’s breathing suddenly skipped a beat.

“I need to go out for a bit.” Aina’s voice cut off his thoughts.

“There’s an abandoned transit station in Minami Ward.

The location is strange. Get ready and come with me — we’ll only take a look from a distance and come right back.”

The movement of Kaoru Hoshitani’s hands stopped dead.

A foam-covered glass water cup slipped from his fingertips, struck the edge of the stainless steel sink, and let out a dull sound.

He turned around instinctively, his gaze falling on Aina somewhat dazedly.

He rubbed his hands hastily on his apron, but could not wipe away the cold foam clinging to his fingertips.

The smoking woman downstairs, and the Minami Ward transit station Aina had mentioned — these pieces of information collided in his mind, producing a ringing buzz that made his ears hum.

“Go… there?”

Kaoru Hoshitani’s voice carried an obvious tremor; his hands clutched the edge of the sink, his knuckles pale with a bloodless white from the excessive force.

“Yeah. We can’t keep hiding here like blind people waiting to die.”

Aina had already walked to the foyer and reached up to take down the dark gray trench coat hanging there.

“If they’ve really searched their way here, we have to scout the route in advance.”

“I… I suddenly have a stomachache.” Kaoru Hoshitani wiped his hands randomly on his apron, his face as pale as a sheet of paper. “Aina Onee-san, wait for me a moment. I need to use the restroom.”

Before Aina could answer, he fled into the narrow restroom and dropped the locking bolt.

The cramped space was filled with a lingering mist of cold water.

Kaoru Hoshitani leaned against the door, his chest heaving violently.

With trembling hands, he pulled the black mobile phone he had hidden so carefully from the pocket against his body.

The moment his fingerprint unlocked it, the screen’s harsh light cast a dark shadow in the dim restroom.

Two unread messages, like a net laid out long in advance, waited quietly for him, a headless fly, to blunder into them.

[Do not go to that place in Minami Ward today, no matter what.]

[Someone may already be there waiting for her.]

Kaoru Hoshitani’s breathing stopped dead.

He stared at those few characters on the screen for a long time, until the screen dimmed automatically from lack of touch.

His fingertips still rested on the edge of the screen, slow to let go.

Outside the door came the soft sound of a clothes hanger swaying; Aina had probably already taken down that trench coat.

Kaoru Hoshitani suddenly realized that even the faint sounds of her dressing now felt to him like a countdown.

Right after that, new characters jumped onto the screen.

[If she goes to Minami Ward, she’ll probably choose around 2 PM.]

[Stop her. Take her the opposite way, to the Old Commercial Street. That route is safer.]

He stared blankly at the screen. The restroom was silent. Kaoru Hoshitani slowly slid down the cold tile and crouched on the floor.

The faucet in the sink had not been turned tight; a single cold droplet struck the porcelain basin with a crisp tick.

Kaoru Hoshitani closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of cold air.

His taut shoulders slowly sagged, as though a stone suspended in midair had finally landed.

He pressed the phone hard against his chest, feeling the faint warmth from the screen, his nails digging deep into his palm.

Kaoru Hoshitani did not know how he pushed open the restroom door.

The moment he stepped out of the shadow, his gaze passed over the corridor first and landed on the foyer.

Aina Saiten was bowing her head, draping the dark gray trench coat over her shoulders.

The second hand of the wall clock beside her ticked, and the hour hand had just crossed the 2 o’clock mark of the afternoon.

Not a second off.

He stared fixedly at the hem of that trench coat.

Though he was indoors in the warmth, he felt his throat flooded with biting cold wind, and even swallowing became extraordinarily difficult.

“Aina Onee-san.”

He took two steps forward, his voice somewhat hoarse from being wound too tight.

Aina’s hands, which were buttoning up, paused, and she raised her eyes to look at him.

“Is your stomach better? If you’re really unwell, you can wait for me at home. I’ll go take a look from a distance myself.”

“No… let’s not go there.” Kaoru Hoshitani gritted his teeth, staring fixedly into Aina’s eyes.

His nails had cut blood streaks into his palm. He did not flinch, nor did he hang his head like a child who had done something wrong.

Facing Aina’s clear eyes, he spoke, word by word:

“Just now in the restroom… I took a careful look at the map on my phone. Minami Ward is too dangerous. Let’s go the opposite way, to the Old Commercial Street, okay?”

The words slipped from his mouth so smoothly that even he found it unbelievable.

He watched Aina’s movement halt, and his shoulders, which had been so tense they trembled, relaxed bit by bit the moment he saw her hesitate.

The foyer fell into a dead silence.

Aina did not answer at once. She stood there, half her face hidden in the shadow leaking through the door crack, the other half exposed to the dim light of the corridor.

She looked at Kaoru Hoshitani’s face, slightly pale from lying, and at his tightly clenched fists.

After a long while, Aina lowered the fingers that had been about to reach for the doorknob.

“The Old Commercial Street?”

“Yes! That’s the place!” Kaoru Hoshitani thought she had been persuaded, and nodded eagerly again and again, a sickly light flickering in the depths of his eyes. “It’s really safe over there, I…”

“How do you know?!”

Aina cut him off coldly. Her voice was not loud, but it was like an extremely sharp scalpel, mercilessly slicing open Kaoru Hoshitani’s clumsy disguise.

Kaoru Hoshitani’s smile froze on his face instantly, his throat as if stuffed with coarse sand, unable to make a sound.

She took a small step forward, her sole making a soft sound on the wooden floor.

“Who told you?”

The blood that had been boiling in Kaoru Hoshitani an instant ago plunged into an ice cave.

He opened his mouth, his voice stuck in his dry throat, leaving only heavy breathing.

He looked into Aina’s eyes, clear to the bottom, clearly reflecting his own pale, twisted, bloodless face.

Silence.

A long, deathly silence spread between them, impenetrable even by the bright light, like a chasm cracked open between two people from different worlds.

Kaoru Hoshitani lowered his eyes with a slight tremble, sinking all his emotions into the shadow.

Aina watched his bowed head, and the faint light in her eyes dimmed bit by bit, like withered petals falling silently onto the dust-covered floor.

“I see.”

Aina withdrew her gaze. She did not reach for his hand again, nor did she ask another word.

She only turned around and readjusted the scarf at her neck.

The faint rustle of fabric was especially jarring in the dead corridor.

“Since you think it’s dangerous, then stay home.”

Aina gripped the doorknob, her voice showing not the slightest ripple of emotion.

“I’ve changed my plan. I’ll just look around nearby by myself. I’ll be back on time tonight.”

“Aina Onee-san…”

Kaoru Hoshitani panicked. He instinctively took a step forward, wanting to reach out and grab her sleeve.

“Don’t follow me.”

Aina turned sideways, avoiding his touch.

Her eyes no longer held that unreserved dependence of the past, replaced by a wariness and distance that felt utterly unfamiliar to him.

She no longer laid out her true investigation plan for him.

“Click.”

The anti-theft door was pulled open, then slammed shut again, striking out a crisp yet dull sound.

The sound of the lock closing echoed through the silent corridor with the cold wind.

Cold air crept in through the door crack, and the biting chill instantly enveloped Kaoru Hoshitani’s thin frame.

He stood dumbly in the foyer, his hand frozen in midair, his fingertips barely touching the cold metal door panel.

The heat that had boiled in his chest because of the lie faded bit by bit in the cold wind, leaving only a hollow chill.

He had blocked her from going to the dangerous place, yet he was left inside the locked door.

Just as he instinctively wanted to turn the doorknob and chase after her, the black phone in the pocket against his body suddenly vibrated softly.

He lowered his head stiffly and took out the phone.

The cold light of the screen shone on his bloodless face:

[Don’t chase her. She doesn’t believe you now. The more you chase, the more afraid she’ll be.]

[Xun Jun, you’ve already done very well.]

Kaoru Hoshitani’s finger, reaching toward the doorknob, finally drooped bit by bit in the dimness.