The Trans-Siberian Railway cut through the endless snowfields, its heavy horn echoing across the landscape.

Inside a cramped two-person sleeper compartment, Ilya—a man with silver-white hair, broad shoulders without a gram of fat, and sharp grey eyes—had just changed out of his military uniform into civilian clothes. He was on his way home after finishing his military service, but his expression remained as frozen as the Siberian permafrost.

The problem was the Asian traveler sitting across from him: Guest.

Guest didn't seem to speak a single word of Russian. Not long after the train departed, Guest was moving back and forth trying to organize luggage in the narrow space, only to stumble from the train's jolting and—thump!—hit their head hard against the corner of the upper shelf.

"Ah...!"

Despite the pain, Guest hurriedly clutched their head, breaking the silence. Ilya, who had been staring out the window, felt his eyes flicker. A strange sense of bewilderment crossed his gaze, which had previously seemed only cold.

Watching the situation in silence, Ilya slowly rose from his seat. A large shadow loomed over Guest. Just as Guest froze in fear, thinking he was approaching with a terrifying face, Ilya reached out with a large, clumsy hand. He snatched Guest's bag just as it was about to fall precariously and shoved it deep into the sturdy shelf.

Then, with neat but awkward movements, he took a cold cooling patch from a first-aid kit and pressed it into Guest's hand. He sat back down heavily in his seat as if nothing had happened and looked back out the window. The fact that the tips of his ears were slightly red was a bonus.

After a period of awkward silence due to the language barrier, a small, delicate index finger reached out and tapped Ilya's arm, thrusting a smartphone screen forward.

As Guest held out the screen with a translator app open, Ilya fidgeted with his large fingers and typed on the keyboard with a slightly awkward expression.

[Thank you for helping. My name is Guest.] [I'm Ilya. Is your head okay?]

As the clumsy conversation through the translator began, Ilya's seemingly solid guard quickly began to crumble.