Chapter 121: Yuuki, Look—A Triangle

The four of them walked across the soft snow, their footsteps making crisp crunching sounds.

The frigid air filled their lungs, carrying the sweetness of fresh snow.

Koji Hattori held up his camera excitedly, capturing the unique charm of Otaru’s winter streets.

From time to time, he would bend down to show Yamanoi Yayoi the snowy scenes or interesting signs he’d just photographed.

Saori Saiyonji pointed at the kanji sign for “Sankaku Market” in the distance, patted Yuki Asahi on the shoulder, and said, “Yuki, look, triangle.”

Yuki Asahi nodded, picking up his phone to take a commemorative photo.

Inside the market, the passage was narrow, with rows of dazzling seafood stalls on both sides.

Saiyonji walked to a stall piled high with huge surf clams, pointed at the shell’s distinctive triangular shape, and said to Yuki Asahi again, “Yuki, look, triangle.”

Yuki Asahi glanced at him in confusion but still took a picture of the clams.

After waiting in line for about half an hour outside the famous Taknami Shokudou, the four finally sat down.

Saiyonji received the menu and, seeing the salmon section, seemed to find a topic. He pointed at the picture.

“Yuki, look, tri—”

The third sudden “triangle” reference finally made Yuki Asahi furrow his brows.

He put down the menu.

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

Saiyonji’s cheeks flushed slightly, his gaze flickering.

The food arrived quickly, but when Saiyonji saw the salmon in Yuki Asahi’s bowl, he finally sighed as if making a decision, lowered his voice, and said,

“Jiang Jian Yue likes Oonishi-san.”

“……?”

Yuki Asahi’s chopsticks froze in midair.

The piece of salmon he was holding slipped powerlessly, landing in his rice bowl.

“Pfft! Cough, cough, cough!”

Koji Hattori quickly covered his mouth, but a grain of rice still flew onto Yamanoi Yayoi’s forehead.

Yamanoi Yayoi stared wide-eyed in shock.

Back at the inn, she’d already noticed Saiyonji looking like he had something to say but was holding back.

She never expected what finally came out would be such an earth-shattering statement.

Yuki Asahi’s lips twitched, forcing out a smile uglier than a cry.

“Are you kidding…? Even Saiyonji-kun makes this kind of joke now, huh?”

“It’s not a joke!”

Saiyonji’s voice dropped even lower, but his tone was unusually firm as he replayed the scene he’d witnessed in his mind.

His subjective conviction made the details in his memory seem even more vivid.

He even felt that Jiang Jian Yue’s gaze at the time carried a kind of indescribable focus and faint affection.

Memories are the best liars, even if it’s just something from two hours ago.

Yuki Asahi’s shoulders seemed to collapse in an instant, his whole being sinking into a daze.

So…it’s like this?

So Predecessor…the one she always liked was Kaori?

He felt the seafood-scented air in the restaurant become unbearably suffocating.

He instinctively loosened his collar, but his chest remained tight as ever.

“What are you saying, Sho-chan?”

Koji Hattori finally stopped coughing, patted Saiyonji on the shoulder, and looked completely unconcerned.

“The one the young lady likes is obviously Yuki-kun.”

“Eh eh eh eh?”

Yamanoi Yayoi couldn’t help but exclaim.

She never saw that coming at all.

This seemed even more explosive than the previous topic.

Yuki Asahi just shook his head slightly in a daze.

“Jiang Predecessor already clearly denied it.”

“Denied?”

Koji Hattori snorted, picked up a big piece of crab roe, stuffed it into his mouth, and said indistinctly,

“Though Princess Yue looks cold on the outside, she’s actually very gentle. She’s even a little tsundere.”

Gentle…Yuki Asahi could feel that a little.

But tsundere? Really?

Jiang Jian Yue had always been straightforward.

Someone like that would have a hard time being associated with “tsundere”.

“All the young ladies in anime are basically tsundere!”

Koji Hattori gave a very unconvincing reason.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, held his chopsticks, and pinched his throat, “‘It’s absolutely not because I like you that I keep following you desuwa~'”

He deliberately finished in an affected tone, only then noticing Yamanoi Yayoi across from him holding up her phone, the screen apparently aimed at him.

“Ah…my image…”

Koji Hattori froze in his seat.

Yuki Asahi stared down at the seafood bowl in front of him, his thoughts in turmoil, and lost his appetite.

***

Noon, inside the inn.

Kaori Oonishi sat up from the bed, the pallor on her face fading a little as she finally regained some energy.

“Jiang Predecessor, I think…I’m alive again. Let’s go out and find something to eat, okay?”

Her voice was still a bit weak, but at least there was some brightness in her eyes.

The power of a small ice cream was surprisingly terrifying.

Jiang Jian Yue sat up from the other bed and nodded.

The two of them tidied up briefly and left the inn.

They randomly picked a clean-looking family-run ramen shop nearby for lunch.

During the meal, Yamanoi Yayoi sent a message saying they were already on their way back, and Jiang Jian Yue casually shared the ramen shop’s location.

Since they hadn’t brought filming equipment or a selfie stick, the Oonishi Probe Channel didn’t broadcast.

The two quickly finished eating—it tasted pretty good, about a seven out of ten.

Pushing open the thick noren of the ramen shop, a chill even sharper than before swept in, mixed with fine wind and snow.

Jiang Jian Yue instinctively tightened her scarf, her breath instantly forming a thick white mist.

She looked up.

The sky was overcast, and snowflakes as fine as salt drifted down soundlessly.

Her blood-red eyes reflected the falling snow, and for a moment, she stood dazed.

She had grown up in the south in her previous life and hadn’t seen many scenes like this.

Combined with Otaru’s distinctive brick and stone buildings, she had to admit—it was actually quite beautiful.

Snowfall heals every southern person who only ever experiences frozen winters.

A sudden idea flashed through Jiang Jian Yue’s mind.

She turned to Kaori Oonishi, who was shivering and burying her face in her scarf.

“Kaori.”

“Mm?”

Kaori Oonishi looked up in confusion.

“Your Ability?”

Jiang Jian Yue asked, then realized her speech meter wasn’t fully charged.

Her next words caught in her throat, so she just pointed at the snow drifting from the sky.

Then she quickly took out her phone and typed,

“These falling snowflakes are essentially condensed water vapor, right?”

“Can you control their falling trajectory? Like…let them float in the air for a bit?”

Her hands were so stiff with cold that typing those few words took her ages.

Jiang Jian Yue stretched out her frozen red hand and caught a few small snowflakes.

“Floating?”

Kaori Oonishi blinked, a glimmer lighting up in her emerald eyes as she tried to focus.

A few centimeters above Jiang Jian Yue’s palm, those swaying snowflakes truly seemed to be held in place by an invisible force, trembling as they hovered in midair.

“Eh?! It seems…possible!”

Kaori Oonishi was pleasantly surprised, but quickly frowned.

“Uh…it’s a bit hard…much harder than with regular water.”

“Good.”

Jiang Jian Yue pretended to rummage in her seemingly small cream-colored cashmere shoulder bag, but actually took a camera out of her storage space.

“Wanna try?”

She pointed at a red mailbox nearby, covered with snowflakes, then shook the camera in her hand.

Kaori Oonishi quickly understood Jiang Jian Yue’s meaning.

Her spirits lifted and her earlier gloom vanished.

“Shoot a video? Yes!”

“Um…let me think…how can I look cooler?”

She muttered, excitedly running toward the mailbox.

She picked a spot and stood still.

The girl closed her eyes, focusing all her attention on her Ability.

Jiang Jian Yue adjusted the camera, framing both Kaori Oonishi and the small area above her head.

“Start.”

Kaori Oonishi opened her eyes.

A green light flashed in her pupils.

Centered on her, the snow within a radius of about one meter seemed to slow down as if a slow-motion button had been pressed, the descent clearly reduced.

Some clusters of fine snowflakes appeared to be drawn by invisible hands, slowly rotating and gathering above her head, forming a hazy snow vortex.

Whoosh—

With a thought, Kaori Oonishi sent the vortex of snow bursting outward, scattering fine, fluttering snowflakes in all directions like an umbrella suddenly opening.

Cool!

Jiang Jian Yue nodded at Kaori Oonishi, then stopped recording and lowered her head to check the playback.

In the footage, the transformation of the snow was clear and smooth.

With the snowy Otaru street and red mailbox in the background, there was indeed a kind of magical tranquility.

However…

Jiang Jian Yue stared at Kaori Oonishi’s face in the video.

There seemed to be a spot of sauce residue on her face.

Not very flattering.

“Let me see, let me see!”

Kaori Oonishi immediately squeezed in beside Jiang Jian Yue, her cheeks flushing with excitement as she stared at the camera screen.

“Wow! Predecessor, you’re amazing! It’s shot so well!”

Jiang Jian Yue looked away from the screen and at Kaori Oonishi’s excited face.

That dark spot of sauce on her pale skin stood out even more.

Ruined!

This kid…can’t she pay attention?

She reached into her bag again and pulled out a pack of portable wet wipes.

She tore open the package and, with a swift, matter-of-fact gesture, raised her hand and wiped Kaori Oonishi’s mouth.

Kaori Oonishi was still absorbed in the video, so Jiang Jian Yue’s sudden action startled her.

She instinctively tried to dodge.

“You have sauce.”

Jiang Jian Yue explained briefly and precisely wiped off the annoying residue.

The movement was clean and natural, as if it were an everyday task.

However, at that very moment—

At the street corner, the four who had just returned from the direction of Sankaku Market, hands still carrying some snacks, all stopped in unison.

What they saw was:

On a street filled with falling snow, Jiang Jian Yue was slightly lowering her head, holding a tissue and gently (to their eyes) wiping the corner of Kaori Oonishi’s mouth.

Kaori Oonishi, meanwhile, was tilting her face up a little (to their eyes, looking docile), and the two were so close their pose seemed intimate.

In the background, the red mailbox and the lingering glint of ice crystals even added a cinematic sense of romance to the scene.

For a second, time seemed to freeze.

Saiyonji felt as if he’d witnessed the ultimate confirmation.

With a tone tinged with regret and sympathy, he spoke.

“Yuki…sorry…my condolences.”

Yamanoi Yayoi covered her mouth, looking between the two with a face full of confusion.

But…if it’s like this, what about Yuki-kun?

Koji Hattori’s mouth hung open, his camera nearly falling from his hand.

Could it be…could it be…?

The young lady really is…

No!

I have to tell Morita Ao about this as soon as possible!