No examination could find anything, and Cain knew his body was perfectly fine. At this moment, he could even run ten laps around the field without breaking a sweat.
He didn't intend to sit around in the hospital forever, but he also wasn't planning on returning to the company. Following the faint traces of his memory, he walked toward the alley where Mason had found him.
Mason and the bodyguards stood at a distance. Mason's expression was somewhat heavy, but right now he didn't dare disturb Cain.
Cain walked slowly, step by step, with no idea where he was supposed to go. Everything felt familiar, yet strangely foreign at the same time.
People hurried past him, but none of them were the one he was searching for.
Finally, Cain's gaze suddenly stopped on a splash of pure white. Beneath the pale sky of the cold winter day, a pristine gardenia swayed in the wind, as if waving at him.
Almost instinctively, Cain knelt down, his fingertips gently brushing against a petal.
Just then, the sound of footsteps rang out, followed by an older woman's warm and gentle voice: "These were just cut from the greenhouse. Gardenias only bloom in the warm spring and summer. During winter, they need a great deal of protection."
Cain paused for a moment. His heart tightened slightly, an odd ripple stirring within him. Whenever he felt this way, he knew it was his heart reacting to that person, the one he couldn't remember.
Perhaps that person also needed a great deal of protection in winter, Cain thought to himself.
He stood up, looked toward the woman, and nodded. "I'll buy them."
But the florist stared at him in surprise, looking a bit doubtful, though in the end she spoke with certainty: "You?"
Cain blinked, his heart pounding sharply. He nodded and asked softly, "You know me?"
The florist studied him for a moment before nodding. "I thought I was mistaken, but with a face that striking, I doubt I would forget."
Cain immediately said, "Something happened that day that made me forget a few things..."
Hearing that, the florist looked a little stunned. "No wonder I never got my umbrella back from you..."
Cain froze, and at that moment the florist continued, "That day, you also came here to buy a bouquet of gardenias. It looked like you were preparing to confess to someone you liked. I even wished you good luck." She smiled. "But it seems my blessing didn't do much good."
And looking at Cain now, he was completely different from the worn-out, exhausted man she'd seen that day.
The florist was getting on in years, but she had once been a dreamy young girl. Putting together what Cain had said, she guessed he must have experienced something straight out of a romance novel.
Meanwhile, Cain was still stunned by her words. "I... was going to confess?"
He looked surprised — yet at the same time, not all that surprised.
Just then, the carefully wrapped bouquet of gardenias was placed into his arms. The petals were still kissed with morning dew, pure white and carrying a sweet, gentle fragrance.
"This bouquet is my gift to you. I hope you'll soon find your way back to your love." The florist's gentle voice sounded.
Cain held the bouquet tightly against his chest, as if clinging to the faint fragments of memory in his mind, holding onto that silhouette he didn't want to let go of.
He tugged the corner of his lips, lowered his head, and said softly, "Thank you for your blessing. I will definitely find him."
My love.
The florist watched Cain's figure fade into the distance and smiled. Youth truly was a wonderful thing.
Not long after, she became busy again. Today, her business seemed especially smooth, with customers coming and going in a steady stream. Near the end of the day, a young man she didn't recognize approached with an umbrella in hand.
At that moment, the florist had already closed up shop. "I'm sorry, we're all out of flowers for today..."
Mason spoke softly, "Then that's a pity." With that, he extended the umbrella forward and smiled. "It looks like we'll be getting the first snow of the season today. I hope this umbrella will be of use to you."
The florist understood at once. She accepted the umbrella, opened it, and left.
The sky gradually darkened, turning gray and heavy. The weather was growing colder and colder.
As for Cain, he simply held the bouquet and wandered forward aimlessly.
He didn't know where he was supposed to go. All he knew was that he had to keep walking. His intuition seemed to be guiding him.
At the red light of an intersection, Cain stopped as well. He lowered his gaze to the bouquet in his arms.
After a whole day at his side, the petals looked slightly wilted, and Cain's heart felt just as drained.
His fingertips brushed gently against a petal as he whispered an apology, not even sure who the apology was meant for.
That day, he had planned to return and confess. Was the other person waiting for him? When he didn't return, had that person been disappointed?
Perhaps that was why the figure in his dreams always pushed him away?
Just then, something cold touched his cheek. A moment later, white snowflakes began to drift down, settling softly onto the petals.
The first snow of the season began to fall, and Cain could hear the people around him gasping and murmuring with delight.
Instinctively, he lifted his head, raising a hand to brush the snowflakes from his face.
But at that moment, he froze.
Because on the opposite side of the street...
A young man whose face was far too striking to miss in a crowd. Soft black hair fell over his forehead. He wore a long coat that reached his calves, a blue scarf wrapped around his neck, his ears covered with warm earmuffs, leaving almost nothing visible except his face.
Right now, he had his gloved hands raised, catching snowflakes.
They were clearly separated by a single road, yet Cain could see the faint pink at the corner of the young man's eyes and the tip of his nose. He could see the two moles beneath the young man's eye, like two teardrops. He could see his beautifully curved lips lifting into a bright smile, his eyes lighting up as if starlight were about to spill out.
Just then, the young man suddenly lifted his gaze — and for some reason, he met Cain's eyes.
Cain could tell that a moment of surprise flashed across the young man's face. Even his smile stiffened slightly.
"Vroom!"
A bus suddenly roared past, blocking everything from sight. And the blurry silhouette from Cain's dreams was now almost completely filled in.
It was him. It was him. His instincts were screaming it.
When the bus rolled away and everything came back into view, the young man's figure had vanished, as if the entire scene had been nothing more than an illusion carried by the first snowy night.
Cain stood stunned — thankfully, the light had turned green.
He ran almost without hesitation, pushing through the crowd. The petals of the bouquet in his hands trembled violently, just like the heart inside him that felt as if it might collapse at any moment.
I've found you, on this first snowy night...
Please, fate — let us find each other this time.