"Wake up~ wake up~"
A slightly panicked female voice rang in Rikuto's ears.
His head throbbed. His limbs felt heavy.
His whole body swayed—it felt like someone was carrying him.
Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold…
So cold!
"Please… live. You must live."
The girl's anxious, pleading voice sounded again.
What a lovely voice... but kind of unfamiliar, Rikuto thought groggily.
With great effort, he pried open his heavy eyelids.
The darkness retreated—replaced by a world of white.
Snow-covered forests and distant mountains, all blanketed in silver.
Wind howled through the ice and snow, robbing every trace of warmth.
A silver-haired girl in coarse, threadbare clothes was carrying Rikuto on her back, trudging forward through the blizzard.
Silver hair… that's definitely my type.
A faint floral scent brushed past his nose.
That was the last idle thought he had before his survival instincts kicked in.
Rikuto: "Cold…"
Snow-laden wind lashed his body.
The numbness was creeping in, dulling his senses.
He tried to move his lips, forcing his eyelids open just a crack.
"…Clothes… warmth… fire…"
As he spoke, what little body heat he had left was drained away.
His breath turned to white mist in the frigid air.
His voice was no louder than a whisper—barely audible.
But the girl carrying him had clearly been paying close attention.
The instant he spoke, she caught it.
It was like she suddenly realized something critical.
She understood—the boy she carried wasn't built to endure this kind of cold.
"Warmth… he needs clothes! Clothes!!"
The silver-haired girl muttered anxiously, snowflakes swirling around her.
She looked around.
Of course, in the endless white expanse, there was nothing useful for warmth.
Finally, she stopped walking and gently laid Rikuto on the snow.
Looking at his face—now nearly purple from the cold—she seemed to make a difficult decision.
Standing upright amid the falling snow and icy winds—
Her long silver hair whipping through the storm—
She began removing the only clothes she had.
Bare and shivering, she stood in the snow.
Silver hair. Long ears. Deep violet eyes.
A face that, in this world, should have inspired nothing but fear.
And yet now—she was doing something no one would expect.
"Don't die!"
Her voice was a desperate plea, as if begging the universe itself—or perhaps pleading with a future she feared.
She pulled the boy into her arms.
"Don't die… don't die… don't die…"
The mantra echoed again and again, anchoring Rikuto's fading consciousness.
The warmth of skin against skin reached deep into his frozen body.
His icy limbs, stiff as boards, slowly began to thaw.
Snow still fell.
Holding him tightly, she wrapped what little clothing remained around them both and began walking again—toward her distant home.
"Don't die…"
"Don't die… don't die… don't die…"
Her voice repeated in an emotionless whisper.
Across the white plains behind her—
A trail of footprints stretched into the distance,
Etching delicate patterns into the endless snow…
But soon, wind and snow swept over them,
Until no trace remained.
---
The fire crackled quietly in the hearth.
Wood popped and hissed as the flames danced brightly.
Warm golden light played across Rikuto's sleeping face.
His once-frozen body slowly regained its natural warmth.
Consciousness returned.
The memory of that warmth—the feeling in his dream—lingered like a trace of sunlight.
Rikuto opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw… was the silver-haired girl's breathtaking face.
She was watching him with a rare glimmer of joy in her violet eyes.
But the moment she realized he was looking back at her—
She startled, like a deer in the woods.
Instinctively, she raised her hand to cover her face,
As if embarrassed to let the world see her.
But in the firelight, she looked stunning.
Silken silver hair. Snow-pale skin. A flawless, ethereal beauty.
So beautiful that Rikuto's heart skipped a beat.
"I'm Rikuto."
He didn't wait for her to speak first.
Without hesitation, he introduced himself to the girl who had—quite literally—saved his life.
"…Emilia."
The girl responded instinctively, still avoiding his gaze.
Then she turned her head to look at him.
"Aren't you… afraid of me?"
"Silver hair… long ears… violet eyes."
"Don't I scare you?"
She leaned closer nervously,
Then quickly lowered her head again, shy and flustered.
From time to time, she peeked up at him,
Her expression a blend of fear and longing.
She clearly wanted an answer.
But feared it just the same.
Afraid? Rikuto looked at the beautiful girl in front of him.
His expression turned a bit odd.
He examined her again from head to toe.
Waist-length silver hair. Soft, delicate features.
A face both alluring and pure.
Mature, yet innocent.
As if a flower meant for a wild, sultry jungle had bloomed instead in the melting snows of spring.
Alluring, yet serene.
The very definition of a silver-haired and elf-lover's dream.
And those violet eyes—too enchanting for words.
"I might not fully understand your world's beauty standards," he said, seriously.
"But if someone like you is considered scary… then I'd be happy to wake up terrified every single day."
Rikuto spoke with utter sincerity.
"…Really?!"
Her violet eyes widened.
She lifted her head in surprise and joy.
Over and over again, she'd tried.
No matter how hard she worked to help others—
Whenever she revealed her face…
All she saw in return… was fear.
Witch!!!
Witch, witch, witch, witch…
They all called her that.
Though she never understood why.
"…Really."
Rikuto nodded, still looking into her eyes.
Something in his gaze shifted slightly.
He couldn't shake the feeling—
That somehow, in just this one moment,
He had completely maxed out her affection.