Snow fell. The world was so white and quiet that even small footprints were quickly buried in the silence—

Waiting for someone who would never return had long since become his habit. Spring never came, and winter was as long as suspended time. He was used to his frozen fingertips and fading memories now...

Then one day, he discovered warmth through a chance touch of fingertips.

Since that day, he began to wait for tomorrow instead of winter,

And the child who was waiting for those who couldn't return, this time, began to wait for someone who wouldn't leave.

Like a spring that arrived very late.