The question came out all of a sudden, but she’d been thinking about it for several days now. Staring at the cliff, Yuichi was quiet. “I don’t know,” he said, but no matter how long she waited, he didn’t elaborate.

“There’s one thing I’d like to make sure of.”

Yuichi tensed up a bit at her words.

“You didn’t make me run away with you. I wanted you to take me with you. If anybody ever asks you, I want you to tell them that.”

Yuichi frowned, uncertain. Mitsuyo felt as if she’d just said goodbye and buried her face in his chest.

“Until I met you,” she said, “I never realized how precious each day could be. When I was working, each day was over before I knew it, and then a week just flew by, and then a whole year… What have I been doing all this time? Why didn’t I meet you before? If I had to choose a whole year in the past, or a day with you-I’d choose a day with you…”

As he stroked her hair, she began to cry. Yuichi’s hand, just out of his pocket, was warm as a blanket.

“I’d choose a day with you, too, Mitsuyo. That’s all I ever need… But I can’t do anything for you. I wanted to take you to all kinds of places, but I can’t take you anywhere.”

Mitsuyo pressed her cheek against his chest.

“I wonder how many more days we can be together,” Yuichi mumbled sadly. And right after that, a single flake of snow landed on the handrail and melted away.

Powdery snow suddenly began to fall onto the pavement and melted. Keigo Masuo was walking down the sidewalk, and when it started snowing, he halted and looked up at the sky.

Before he knew it, the world was covered with powdery snow. The overcast Hakata streets seemed to fade out of focus. A mailbox nearby looked far away, while the high-rise building across the street loomed closer.

Yoshio Ishibashi, following him, kept about ten yards back. Between them, countless powdery snowflakes fluttered down from the sky.

With each step, Yoshio had to suppress the desire to rush forward. Keigo had no idea he was being followed, and continued walking, one hand thrust in his jeans pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold.

Two days earlier, Yoshio had surprised himself and run out of his home in Kurume.

This college student who had kicked Yoshino out of his car on top of Mitsuse Pass lived on the top floor of a luxurious building. Yoshio had ridden the elevator to the eighth floor. As he rode up, he felt the weight of the wrench concealed in his pocket. The door to Keigo’s condo had a bell but Yoshio knocked. He knocked at the thick front door over and over. “Come out, you! Come out!” he yelled.

But no matter how much he knocked, the door remained shut, and he suddenly realized his nose was pressed again it and he was sobbing.

“Come out… Nobody’s going to make fun of my Yoshino and get away with it…”

There was no sound from the other side of the door.

Fighting back his tears, Yoshio stepped away. He got in the elevator, and as he did, the whole scene rushed back at him: Yoshino being kicked out of the car at Mitsuse Pass. He slammed his fist against the elevator door.

He hadn’t come here to grill the boy about why he’d abandoned Yoshino. Asking that wouldn’t bring her back. No, he’d come as a father, a man who couldn’t let anyone break his daughter’s heart. All he wanted was to protect her feelings.

Yoshio went out to his car, parked in front of the condo, and called his wife on his cell phone.

“I won’t be back tonight, but don’t worry,” he said in a rush of words. “I’ll be back as soon as I finish up what I need to do here.”

After a pause, Satoko asked, “Where are you?”

“Hakata,” Yoshio answered.

After more silence she said, “Okay. Be sure to come home as soon as you’re done.”

It was snowing harder than before. Keigo almost skipped along and, ignoring the red light, crossed at the intersection.

Yoshio tightened his grip on the wrench in his pocket. As he stepped into the crosswalk, he nearly collided with a taxi making a left turn, and the driver blasted his horn. Yoshio came close to falling, but pushed hard against the bumper of the cab and managed to keep his balance.

The taxi driver rolled down his window. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted angrily. Two high school girls, wrapped in mufflers and waiting for the light to change, stared. Keigo, already on the other side of the street, glanced back for a moment at the commotion.

Yoshio ignored the driver and took off after Keigo. The driver went on blaring his horn.

When he got to the other side of the street, Keigo was far away. Yoshio sped along in the snow. The wrench banged against his ribs as he ran, the snowflakes melting on his face forming lines of water down from his eyes, like tears.

Just then, Keigo noticed the approaching footsteps and turned around. Yoshio rushed toward him and Keigo edged backward. “What the…?” he said.

Yoshio stood right in front of Keigo, his ragged breath white in the air. Yoshio was struck by how tall the young man was, or rather, how short he himself was. But he stood his ground, glaring up at Keigo, who was glaring down at him.

“Are you Keigo Masuo?” Yoshio asked, more loudly than he needed to.

“Who are you, old man?”

Keigo took a step back. Yoshio stuck his hand in his pocket and felt the heavy wrench.

“Yoshino died because of you.”

“What?”

“My precious daughter died because of you.”

Yoshio glared up at him, unblinking. A flash of fear crossed Keigo’s eyes.

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Why did you-abandon Yoshino at the pass!”

At Yoshio’s angry shout, a cat appeared from behind a light pole, bristled, and scampered off.

“What are you talking about?”

Keigo tried to run off but Yoshio grabbed his arm. Keigo attempted to twist away.

“I didn’t kill her! I didn’t do anything!” Keigo broke free from his grasp, but as he did, his elbow struck Yoshio hard in the face. Everything turned blank and Yoshio fell to his knees. Still, he managed to grab Keigo by the legs to keep him from escaping.

“Let me go! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Keigo roughly tried to shake free. His knees scraped the ground and a dry pain shot through him. Keigo tried to walk, dragging Yoshio behind him.

“Let me go!” he yelled.

At that instant all the strength drained out of Yoshio’s arms. Keigo slipped free and almost instinctively kicked him in the shoulder. Yoshio flew out horizontally and hit his head on the guardrail of the street with a dull thud.

“I didn’t do anything!” Keigo said again. He looked furious and he bolted down the street. In the increasingly white world that surrounded him, Yoshio lay there watching his retreating figure.

“Wait… You have to apologize to Yoshino…” He’d meant to shout this, but all that came out was white breath. Keigo had disappeared into the swirling snow. A single cold flake of snow landed on Yoshio’s eyelashes and melted.

“Yoshino… Daddy’s not going to give up.”

As his consciousness grew dim, he could see Yoshino as a young child, toddling along… Where is this place? Some ferryboat dock? There’s the sea over there. And Yoshino’s running across a huge parking lot. She’s holding a snack, some chikuwa from one of the stands, and she’s running toward the sea.

“Are you all right?”

Just as he was starting to lose consciousness, he heard a voice. A young man put his arms around Yoshio and helped him to his feet.

“Can you stand?”

“That guy… you have to… chase him…”

As he made this desperate plea, the young man looked in the direction that Keigo had vanished in.

“Why… why do you need to chase Keigo?” the young man asked uneasily.

Nearby a black crow was pecking at a bag of garbage. As it tried to tug the bag along the ground, the garbage became covered in snow.