The Day the First Snow Falls (2)
Christine was carefully holding onto the edge of Maxim’s sleeve. The dandelion field in front of the orphanage had turned a brilliant yellow in preparation for winter and now lay dormant. Smoke curled from the orphanage chimney in the distance. Christine gazed at the scene with quiet longing, her golden hair stirring in the faint breeze.
“In winter, my favorite thing was sitting in front of the orphanage fireplace, listening to the old stories the director would read aloud.”
A gentle smile played on Christine’s lips.
“We’d each wrap ourselves in worn-out blankets and nod off one by one while she spoke. The fire was so warm. She never scolded us. When we’d all fallen asleep, she’d carry us to bed, one at a time.”
Maxim studied her expression. Whenever she spoke of her childhood at the orphanage, Christine always wore that same look.
“I already knew, but… she really was a good teacher.”
“Wasn’t she?”
The wind grew sharper. Maxim watched Christine draw her coat tighter and asked, “Aren’t you going inside?”
“I’ll just show my face for a moment and come back out.”
The instant Christine took a step forward, the orphanage’s front door swung open. The director nun caught sight of her from afar, her face blooming into a bright smile as she hurried over. Maxim gave Christine’s hesitant back a gentle push and offered a faint smile of his own.
“Christine!”
“Director.”
The nun paid no mind to Christine’s awkward approach and simply pulled her into a fierce embrace. Christine’s frozen expression thawed as she sank into the warmth of those arms.
“It’s been so long. You told me last time that you probably wouldn’t be able to visit again before the year was out.”
That summer, before the battle in No Man’s Land, Christine had indeed said those words during her last visit with Maxim. Recalling it now, she let out a bitter laugh. She could never tell the nun everything that had happened since.
When the director finally released her, Christine managed her usual smile.
“I somehow found a little time. Have you been well?”
“Of course. The children are all healthy and doing wonderfully. But who is the gentleman behind you…?”
The nun’s gaze shifted to Maxim. Christine remembered his changed face and felt a jolt of panic. She shot him a look that practically screamed, Make something up! But the director’s mind moved faster.
Tilting her head as though she had already drawn her own conclusion, the nun asked, “Have you and Maxim parted ways?”
How could one simple question carry so many layers? Both Christine and Maxim twisted their faces in alarm. Christine waved her hands frantically, desperate to explain.
“No, that’s not it at all. This person is—”
“Not it?”
“He’s just a senior colleague from work. Maxim had business today, so he couldn’t come. Besides, the two of us were never even dating. I just… brought him here a few times on my own.”
Christine was sweating by the time she finished. Yet her careful explanation seemed to mean nothing. The nun let out a small, regretful sigh and shook her head.
“Maxim was such a good man, Christine. It’s a shame the two of you couldn’t come together today. I always hoped, in my heart, that you and he would make it work. You suited each other so well.”
We were never together! Christine screamed inwardly. But another part of her whispered that there was no need to deny it so fiercely. The words “suited each other” had made her ears burn. When her cheeks flushed, the nun smiled as if she understood everything.
“…Yes, well. This is Arsen Bern. Director, this is the head nun of the orphanage where I grew up.”
Being introduced to someone she already knew felt strangely awkward. Maxim offered a somewhat stiff greeting.
“I’m Arsen Bern. Christine has told me a lot about you.”
The nun smiled warmly at him. Christine watched the exchange with an expression so subtle it was almost painful. It was probably identical to the one Maxim was wearing.
“The weather is quite cold. Shall we go inside first?” The nun gestured toward the orphanage. Wind swept across the sleeping grass of the field. Maxim gave a rigid nod while Christine let out a quiet sigh behind their backs.
“My senior is still recovering from an injury, so we won’t stay long. We’ll just talk for a little while.”
The nun turned to Maxim at Christine’s words. Only then did she notice the crutch tucked under his left arm. “Oh dear,” she said, voice full of apology.
“I’m sorry. It’s been so long since I last saw Christine that I completely forgot myself. May I help you?”
Maxim smiled bitterly and shook his head. “It’s all right. The injury isn’t serious. Please take your time catching up.”
Christine’s brows drew together. “There he goes again, pretending it’s nothing. Director, just ignore him when he acts like he’s fine. He always says that, but he’s usually lying.”
“Should I tell him that since he’s not fine, he should hurry up and talk so we can leave?”
The nun, who had been listening to their exchange, widened her eyes before breaking into laughter.
“Then just stay for one cup of tea before you go.”
While the director and Christine stepped away, Maxim sat with both hands wrapped around his teacup, eyes gently closed in rest. The fireplace crackled with bright orange flames. Suddenly he sensed several pairs of eyes watching him.
Hmm?
When he turned toward the hallway, four small shadows darted behind the wall and vanished. The moment he looked away, the gazes returned. The combination of childish caution and pure curiosity made a small laugh escape him.
After several rounds of this silent standoff, bickering voices rose from behind the wall. Finally, one child timidly emerged. Two girls and two boys. Maxim recognized them instantly as the children who had always followed him during his visits.
“U-um… hello.”
They greeted him with eyes that tried to hide their fear. Seeing their reaction to his new appearance, Maxim wondered if Arsen’s face really looked that frightening and frowned slightly.
“…Ah, sorry.”
When he frowned, the children looked ready to bolt. Maxim quickly softened his expression and apologized. Once his face relaxed, they gathered around him with visible relief.
“Mister, who are you?” one of the boys asked bravely. When the others turned their eyes on him, Maxim cleared his throat, internally flustered.
“I’m Christine’s friend.”
“Do you know where big brother Maxim is?”
Ah. So they were looking for me. Maxim kept the warmth blooming in his chest from showing on his face and answered in a deliberately calm voice.
“Maxim couldn’t come today because of work. I came in his place.”
“Then… is big brother Maxim never coming back?”
The children’s eyes filled with worry. If I’d known they liked me this much, I would have visited more often. Maxim smiled gently.
“No, he’ll come next time. I’m only here for today.”
Their faces brightened at once. Having settled their main concern, they bombarded him with questions.
“Mister, what’s your name?”
“Are you really friends with sister Christine?”
“Is sister actually going to marry big brother Maxim?”
As always, every question except his name was nearly impossible to answer. Maxim answered them one by one, sweating inwardly the entire time.
Meanwhile, in the chapel one room away, Christine sat leaning against a long wooden pew, gazing at a saint’s statue cast in latticework shadows from the window. The noisy chatter of children next door told her, without needing to see, that Maxim was in considerable trouble.
“Your expression has changed a great deal since I last saw you, Christine.”
The director sat beside her. Christine nodded slowly in agreement.
“A lot has happened before I could come see you again.”
“It hasn’t been a short time.”
The nun’s gaze joined Christine’s on the carved relief. The saint’s eyes were always closed. Christine stared at the praying nun before those unseeing eyes.
“Christine, until today, your face still carried the same look as it did that winter.”
The winter night when bitter winds howled. Christine remembered arriving with bars of gold, drowning in guilt and self-loathing, seeking only atonement. The nun studied Christine’s steady green eyes.
“You’re no longer lost.”
“I’m not so sure.”
Christine touched her chest. She remembered the feeling of a traitor’s blade piercing her. She remembered Maxim’s face as he looked at her while the sword ran her through. The way he had cried that what she had done didn’t matter. The way she had poured her mana into him. The way she had finally laid her entire heart bare.
“It feels like I’m simply walking forward without direction.”
“Everyone needs a guide, Christine. For me, that guide takes the form of faith. From where I stand, it seems you’ve found something to show you the way.”
“I wanted to be that guide for him.”
But I couldn’t. Christine smiled bitterly. When she glanced toward the commotion, she saw Maxim looking thoroughly overwhelmed.
“You also need someone to walk beside you.”
The nun smiled as she spoke. Christine’s eyes crinkled with her own smile. Yes. In the end, what she wanted was nothing more and nothing less than to walk the same path together.
Actually… it was more than that.
“The truth is, I want to be a little greedier.”
The director burst into laughter at the bold reply. It was shameless, bright, and unbearably lovely. Those eyes, now hardened by firm resolve, would no longer waver. The nun looked at Christine with a gaze full of complex emotion.
“A little greed is not a bad thing, Christine.”
“Sometimes I think it’s all right to be even greedier than that.”
Christine rose from her seat. The smile the nun saw was neither forced nor bitter nor lonely. It shone with such natural light that it erased every memory of her previous, artificial smiles.
“I’ll visit again soon. I need to take this foolish senior back to the hospital and make him rest.”
The director nodded. Her expression was not that of a teacher regarding a former student, nor a religious woman regarding a sprout she had nurtured. It was the look of a mother watching her child grow, filled with pure joy.
“Go on, then. Next time, bring Maxim with you.”
“…Of course.”
Christine left the chapel and walked to the room where Maxim sat surrounded by children. The moment he saw her, his face lit up with the relief of a man who had just spotted his savior. Christine smiled and held out her hand.
Realizing it was time to leave, the children reluctantly peeled away one by one. They waved goodbye to Arsen, already promising the next visit, as though they hadn’t been searching for Maxim only moments ago.
“You’re still popular with the children, senior.”
“I have no idea why they like me. My face looks considerably more intimidating now.”
Maxim shook his head, his tone somewhere between grumbling and pleased. Christine studied his face carefully.
“It’s not that intimidating. It just gives a rather sharp impression.”
“That sharp impression scared them at first.” Maxim muttered like a man filing a complaint.
The weather seemed as though it would grow colder, yet the air felt warmer than it had during their visit to Adeline. The moment Christine looked up at the sky, something cold tapped the bridge of her nose.
Her eyes widened. “Oh. It’s snowing.”
Maxim lifted his head as well. In the windless winter sky, tiny snowflakes drifted down slowly. The gray face that had loomed since early morning had finally begun to release its burden in the late afternoon.
“It really is snow.”
When Maxim opened his palm, a single flake landed on it and melted instantly. He closed and opened his hand again, staring blankly at the glittering sky above the Royal Capital.
“Is this the first snow?” Christine asked.
Maxim nodded slowly. “Yes. The first snow.”
This year’s first snow had come late. Snow that should have fallen at the end of November only appeared after December began. Soon it would pile on the streets, on the frozen lake, on the branches of fir trees, painting the whole world white.
Maxim suddenly looked down at Christine. She was gazing up at him quietly. There was something unfamiliar in her eyes. Her usual expression when looking at him had always carried words waiting to be spoken, or a hint of mischief. But now…
“Senior.”
Her voice pulled him back. He nodded without hurry.
“Yes?”
“Back then in No Man’s Land, when you were holding me after I was stabbed… do you remember what I said?”
I like you.
Maxim still remembered the words that had left her lips.
“Weren’t we going to forget about that?” he asked, a touch playful.
“I never said that,” Christine answered, slightly pouty. “I still remember it clearly.”
Snow was beginning to settle on her coat. She stared straight into his dark eyes with a look Maxim had never seen before.
“Have you forgotten, senior?”
Facing those eyes, Maxim shook his head.
“How could I forget?”
“Then it’s all right.”
Only then did a smile bloom across Christine’s face. Maxim watched her arms rise toward the sides of his head. He wasn’t sure whether he reacted. The next instant, however, was more than enough to make his eyes fly wide open.
Her lips were warm.
Stunned by the suddenness, Maxim only fully registered the sensation several seconds later. Warm. Soft. Earnest. After those ordinary words passed, what remained was the taste of the kiss itself. Sweet? He thought it was a small sweetness that lingered after bitterness had gone. Her careful, delicate movements spread that sweetness gradually—from his mouth, down his throat, then slowly through every part of his body. The gentle warmth circulated through him as though waking him from a long sleep.
All Maxim could do was close his eyes. He neither pushed her away nor fully responded; he simply accepted the moment.
The snow was growing heavier, turning into large flakes. The soft crunch of it falling carried the scent of winter and carved the memory deep into Maxim’s heart.
Not everyone measures time during a kiss, but when Christine finally drew back, Maxim felt that quite a while had passed. She didn’t seem to be reflecting on what she had done. Instead, her eyes—wet with the first snow of winter—looked straight into his.
Maxim stood motionless, captured by those green eyes that seemed to hold the fresh green of spring trapped inside winter.
“I wanted to do it when you weren’t wearing that face, if possible.”
Her trembling voice slipped from lips curved in a small arc. Maxim couldn’t find words. He simply looked at her.
“Do you understand now what I meant when I said I couldn’t give up?”
Maxim nodded slowly. He hadn’t expected her to express it so directly, so powerfully.
“I’m only saying it one-sidedly, so you don’t need to answer.”
Snow was falling. Wrapped in the mystical haze of the first snow, Christine was breathtakingly beautiful. Beneath it, her smile bloomed.
“I’ll make sure you never forget my words or this moment today.”
At the wizard’s declaration of war, the knight could only stare at her in silence. The first snow settled softly on their shoulders and hair.