Not a detective

Page 44

He just wanted to say something like, "Women shouldn't read too much. If they acquire too much knowledge, they'll become heartless and ungrateful scum like your mother." That's all he wanted to say.

After some time, he couldn't help but complain to me that the real reason for his mother's divorce was probably that she had been seduced by a professor at a research institute and had fallen in love with someone else.

All those claims about starting a new research career and not letting family ties hinder her talent and skills were just sweet talk and deception, but her mother actually believed them.

"The other person is clearly younger than her... How shameless!"

The father raised his eyebrows and cursed viciously.

I listened with trepidation, neither daring to deny nor agree.

—Actually, my father and mother were quite similar, that's my opinion, and it's not just a rumor, because my father remarried very soon after.

His remarriage partner appears to be an employee of the same company, his subordinate, and the young woman was one of his many suitors.

I must digress for a brief introduction, though it may seem abrupt here, but it suddenly occurred to me that this setting seems to be a foundation that I must discuss later—

My father was a very handsome man, good enough to be a star or idol in his youth. Please don't say things like "a daughter's looks are mostly inherited from her father"... This is not a joke. That's why my mother married him, although she later regretted it, saying he was "just a good-looking fool with no substance," but that was after the fact.

Even after the divorce, my father was still a handsome middle-aged man. With his generous salary and stable job, he still had many suitors despite his divorce history.

My stepmother was one of them. Because of work, we were already very close, and with Ms. Takase actively pursuing me, I quickly succeeded.

Ms. Takase is her name, but there's no need to remember it, because she later became Ms. Yuki.

After the couple got married, the stepmother quickly quit her job. Perhaps the company didn't allow office romances, but it was more likely that the father didn't want her to continue her career. However, the stepmother was a very traditional woman who was happy to be a full-time housewife. She quickly became the mistress of the house, learning how to use the kitchen and rearranging the furniture.

At this point, does Mr. Asakawa find it a little boring?

No, it's actually a bit boring. It's just about my childhood, my parents' divorce and remarriage, things many people have experienced. There's not much to talk about.

It might just be my selfish little thought that I wanted to tell you my story and let you know every detail... so I've been rambling on a bit.

Haha, I'm not as sensible as you say. Actually, I'm a troublesome girl.

The stories Asakawa told me were mystery novels, right? They were so interesting, so suspenseful and exciting! I couldn't help but want to keep listening, even when I was about to faint, I wanted to stay awake.

I tried to open my eyes and perk up, but I couldn't hear anything. My body seemed to be getting hotter and hotter, so the sounds I heard were very muffled. All I could do was tell my boring stories.

However, I also learned a little bit about the captivating suspense techniques and the intriguing plot designs.

I need to hurry, so let's skip the unimportant details and start from when I was eight years old.

...

When I was eight years old, I witnessed the bodies of my biological father and stepmother. They were frozen in my living room, just like the ice sculptures in the movie "Frozen" that I watched when I was a child.

On that day, my home was transformed into a freezer at minus thirty degrees Celsius.

Summer of the Snow Woman: Chapter Twenty-Nine - Memories Frozen

My stepmother wasn't exactly bad to me.

Even though my perspective as a narrator is bound to be biased in terms of human emotions, I can still assert that.

She never forced me to call her "Mom," and treated me as an equal friend, always calling me "Yuki-chan."

I neither rejected nor protested her arrival; after all, my opinion has never been important.

After they got married, I discovered something.

That is, [my stepmother is only nice to me when my father is present; otherwise, she ignores me].

It means literal disregard. When we're alone at home, no matter what I say to her, she pretends not to hear and focuses on doing her own thing.

My stepmother is a very good actress. If the word "smart" has two dimensions, then my biological mother is insightful in science and wisdom, while my stepmother has her own expertise in interpersonal communication and emotional intelligence. She knows how to please my father and how to create greater effects with minimal emotional value.

After discovering this pattern, I wasn't actually that sad, because I didn't want to be friends with her anyway.

I have more important things to do. After I can no longer attend tutoring classes, I need to maintain my top ranking in the class, which requires several times more study time than before.

Just as I was engrossed in my studies, another misfortune befell my family.

It might not be the right word to say "change of events," but my younger brother was born. A year after my remarriage, my half-brother arrived in our family.

It was a scorching summer, just like this year, exceptionally hot, completely different from the cold winter when I was born. My father and stepmother both seemed very happy.

Because there is no dedicated nursery at home, the crib is temporarily placed in my room. Since the baby is weak and cannot withstand the cold wind, my father forbade me from turning on the air conditioner and fan. There is also no place in the house to escape the heat. To be honest, it is very hot. When I do my homework at the desk, sweat always drips onto the paper.

Occasionally, I would be woken up by the baby's cries in the middle of the night, and then my stepmother would rush into the room and sing to him to sleep, disregarding my feelings.

I became practically invisible at home.

But I'm still trying, thinking that everything will change after the final exams.

So even the dumbest kids can get stuck on a single thing. At the time, I didn't know what my father truly hated.

When I excitedly presented him with my top-ranked report card, all I received in return was indifference:

"Hmm...then what?"

"What are you trying to prove? That you didn't inherit any stupidity from me?"

"Sure enough, they're all cut from the same mold."

While the father made sarcastic remarks, the stepmother held their child and watched with a smile.

Normally, she would have smoothed things over, saying things like, "Don't go so far, Yuki-chan is trying her best too," but this time she just watched.

This shows that she understands that being good friends with me is of no use in pleasing her father or maintaining the family; I am just an insignificant pawn.

So I clutched my report card and ran out of the house, crying all the way, thinking—

In this world, there will be at least one person who praises me.

...

I stood under the scorching sun, my clothes soaked with sweat, having run all the way here, leaving me breathless.

The sight of such a little girl standing at the entrance of the research institute attracted many strange glances.

"Little sister, what's wrong?" The guard finally couldn't hold back any longer and came to ask me questions.

“I’m looking for Yuki—” I hesitated for a moment, but still said my mother’s current name: “Fujishima Misuzu, I’m looking for Miss Fujishima Misuzu.”

"I see. What's your relationship with her? Did you make an appointment beforehand?"

I thought my mother would tell her colleagues that she had a daughter.

The only explanation I can give is: "I am her daughter."

This was a perfectly legitimate reason, and soon I met my mother who had come down to see me.

"How did you get here?" she asked in surprise. "How did you find your way here all by yourself?"

I showed her my report card, and as expected, I received a gentle pat on the shoulder. This completely relieved my grievances and made me feel a sense of belonging I had never felt before.

"It must be hot, come in quickly."

My mother held my hand as we toured the research institute where she worked.

I also met her colleagues in their white coats. I suppressed my nervousness and bowed to greet them one by one in a trembling voice.

I also met that "professor". He was indeed very young and had no airs. He didn't seem as bad as my father described. Maybe my mother really didn't fall in love with someone else?

This gradually made me less reserved.

“I’ve already spoken to your father. Let’s rest here today. It’s summer vacation, isn’t it? You should relax.”

My mother even brought out fried chicken and cola, which I hadn't eaten in a long time, so I enjoyed it very much.

After finishing my meal, I felt happy and took a nap on the table.

When I woke up, it was already the next day. It seems that I've been staying up late studying lately and I'm exhausted, but at least it was all worth it.

I removed the blanket from my body and looked around. The office was no different from yesterday's, except that no one was there.

I felt much better after a nap. Ten minutes later, my mother came in from outside the door.

"You're awake! That's great. Let me take you home."

My mood instantly plummeted.

Fortunately, when I asked, "Can I come here anytime in the future?" my mother agreed, which was wonderful.

My mother drove me home. It was still the height of summer outside, and the weather was hot. As soon as I got in the car, she turned on the air conditioning, but I felt a little cold, probably because I had just woken up.

I shivered a couple of times, but my mother probably didn't realize it and still turned down the air conditioner temperature, so I didn't say anything directly.

The research institute is actually quite far from home; it takes half an hour to drive there. It's hard to imagine how long it took me yesterday. I gradually felt sleepy on the way.

My mother told me a story before I went to sleep; it was the story of the Snow Woman.

"...The Snow Woman is such a yokai, isn't she amazing?"

"Yuki has suffered a lot of injustices, but it's okay. You have received the blessing of the Yuki-onna, and she will always be with you."

"If anyone dares to bully you, just ask her for help. The Snow Woman will appear."

Looking back, did I really hear that story? I was probably asleep, so was it a dream? Or what?

In short, in a daze, my mother's voice echoed in my ears, along with the biting cold wind and the white-haired girl hugging me from behind.

...

When I woke up, I saw a purgatory made of ice.

My familiar home was covered in smooth, solid ice, and white mist enveloped the interior, making it colder than ever before.

In the very center of the living room were two ice sculptures: a father and stepmother with terrified expressions, holding the baby, and you could almost hear the baby crying through their expressions.

From that day on, I lost my existing family.

From that day on, I also started to hate summer.

Summer of the Snow Woman: Chapter Thirty The Murderer is Among Us

"Stop talking." Asakawa Riku interrupted her, even though the story was almost over.

By the end, Yukie's voice had become very weak, like a faint thread that could break at any moment.

Asakawa Riku even had to guess and piece together the sentences to roughly understand the story she was telling.

"Thank you... for letting me finish."

She placed her small hand in Asakawa Riku's palm, her skin burning hot.

The girl's eyes were glazed over, and her cheeks were flushed; she was on the verge of fainting due to a high fever.

"Yes, I've listened, and I'll remember it," he said earnestly.

"May I hug you?"

Yukie made this request suddenly, and there was no reason to refuse.

She struggled to sit up, and Asakawa Riku moved the thick blankets aside and gently put his arm around her shoulder.

The girl's body was as light as a snowflake, and she felt no weight at all.

"This is the first time I've ever hugged a boy, hehe, I'm a little embarrassed." Despite this, Yukie still tried her best to raise her arms and hug Asakawa Riku's body.

The heat seemed to travel through her face, and she was breathing heavily.

"I haven't showered for several days, so I might smell a little, but you're not allowed to say anything."

"Actually, no, to be honest, I'm pretty much the same."

"Mr. Asakawa is such a kind person."

"I didn't do anything..."

Asakawa Riku knew that perhaps it was the "suspension bridge effect" of spending more than ten days together that had caused the girl to develop feelings for him.

She craved the last bit of warmth.

"It felt so good to fall asleep in your arms at the end."

"Yuki, the snow is about to stop." Asakawa Riku wasn't lying. This wasn't to give her hope; the snow outside the window was indeed getting lighter and lighter. "Just hold on a little longer."

The story was told on and off for a long time, until it got dark outside and night had fallen.

"Is that so? It's a pity, I don't think I'll be able to see it. Bearing the sin of killing my family, the Snow Woman cursed me, and it seems my death has finally appeased her."

Yukie's eyes were closed, and she rested her chin on his shoulder, transferring her weight without any hesitation: "That's fine. Please take my body back to the shrine."