LIGHTNOVELSTORY Ch71 - Final Epilogue [Japan Edition] [Winter Fenrir Epilogue: 1]
71: Final Epilogue [Japan Edition]
[Winter Fenrir Epilogue: 1]
(View from El’s Father’s Perspective)
Cherry Blossoms in Japan.
Pale pink petals gently flutter through the air.
They stand out so clearly in the faint dawn light…
Rubbing my blurry, middle-aged eyes, I gaze intently.
In the hospital waiting room, I realized spring had arrived while looking out the window.
But mentally, it still felt like the freezing landscape of winter.
I felt as though I was the only one left behind.
I was alone in the waiting room.
After all, it was only 6 in the morning.
Yet, I wasn’t sleepy.
I’d just been told my wife was in critical condition…
It wasn’t the first time I’d been called in like this. It’s been several months since her illness began, and this must be the tenth time. Still, I hadn’t gotten used to it.
I didn’t want to get used to it.
This time, she might really be gone for good.
Every time I heard the nurses’ footsteps pattering by, my head turned involuntarily.
My shoulders twitched nervously—how pathetic.
I let out a sigh that floated like a white cloud in the cold waiting room… and then disappeared.
My chest felt heavy. When I pressed it slowly, I could hear my own heartbeat.
I wish I could hear my wife’s heartbeat instead…
Why does it have to be her?
When I try to remember the face of my smiling wife, two images pop into my mind.
My wife, Sakurako, and our daughter, Hiiragi (Noel).
A sniffle escapes me.
If only the two of you could keep smiling, I wouldn’t need anything else…
I was told that my wife’s heart would irregularly stop and start. There was still a slim chance—about 0.1%.
As for my daughter, I had no idea where she was. No word, no response to the missing person report.
I stood up.
Just sitting there, feeling as stiff as a rock, made every second feel like an hour.
I couldn’t bear it anymore.
I opened the window.
“Whoa!”
A cold gust of wind blew in, freezing my cheeks.
It reminded me of that day.
“Noel…”
The way the cherry blossom petals danced in the air reminded me of snow.
It vaguely resembled the last trace Noel had left behind.
A dreamy, snow-covered world with flowers like ice crystals…
I had seen something like that just a few days ago.
It had been about a month since I last contacted my daughter, who lived alone in the city.
She’d replied that she was doing fine, which reassured me.
Noel’s a smart and capable girl, so I trusted her word.
Shortly after, my wife collapsed.
I couldn’t believe it when the doctor told me it was an incurable disease.
Hesitant, I contacted Noel again, only for her to coldly decline visiting her mother.
I figured it must be a busy time at work… I thought it heartless, but as a new working adult, I understood her position.
All I could do as a parent was send her encouragement.
But my daughter’s reply, “Thank you,” sounded so downcast, it made me worry.
Still, I stayed with my wife, who was coughing constantly.
After that, my days were spent rushing between the hospital and work, passing out from exhaustion at home.
I had to earn money for my wife’s hospital bills.
Before I knew it, I’d stopped contacting Noel altogether.
I figured she was just focused on her work… but then the news broke.
A major company declared bankruptcy on TV.
It was a scandal, with accusations of embezzlement and a wave of complaints from customers. Though the person in charge had been fired, the company’s performance rapidly declined, and soon after, it went bankrupt.
The media was in an uproar over the scale of it all, but that wasn’t what worried me.
The company was where Noel worked.
And yet, I hadn’t heard a thing from her!
Something was wrong.
Panicked, I called her phone, but all I got was the automated message, “This number is no longer in service…”
I went pale.
No matter how many times I tried, the call wouldn’t go through. My emails went unanswered, and I spent those days feeling like I was trapped in a nightmare.
Meanwhile, my wife’s condition only worsened.
Her heart stopped and started, and she clung to life.
I felt helpless—unable to search for my daughter or do anything—and lived each day on the verge of tears.
One day, Noel’s former boss, who was bitter about losing his job, showed up at our house. In my rage, I kicked that old bastard with everything I had.
It was self-defense.
The only reason my middle-aged legs reached his mouth was sheer determination after he insulted my daughter.
That’s when I finally learned about the harsh conditions Noel had faced at her company. The guilt tore me apart, and I wept bitterly, realizing how much my beloved daughter had suffered—working to exhaustion, never receiving the recognition she deserved.
When my wife’s condition stabilized briefly, I finally made my way to Noel’s apartment, far away.
I wanted to apologize for being so late.
When I explained the situation to her landlord, I discovered that her lights hadn’t been on for days.
What on earth…
Together with the landlord, I approached Noel’s door, only to find the keyhole frozen shut.
Cold air was seeping through the cracks, and the windows were frosted over.
Something was wrong.
That chill… No fridge left open could cause this.
Was Noel inside?
If she was… I feared the worst. I tried calling her again, but as expected, there was no answer.
Without hesitation, I called the police.
I stared at the door as they smashed it down.
I didn’t want to lose them.
Not my wife, not my daughter.
All I wished for was to see them smile, but reality was so unbearably cruel.
The door fell with a loud thud.
And everyone’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Fine powdery snow was swirling above the shattered door.
The entire apartment was covered in snow.
The layer on the floor was about 20 centimeters thick.
The furniture and appliances were scattered, buried beneath the snow. Some were frozen solid.
Drawn by the sparkling reflections, I looked up to see icicles hanging from the ceiling.
At the center of the room, a pile of wrecked furniture formed a particularly large snow mound.
At the base of the mound, small white flowers, like snowflakes, bloomed, swaying in the icy breeze.
The source of the cold air—
At the peak of the snow mound, a tablet was embedded.
The screen seemed to stretch into the depths of a black hole, emitting a snow-filled wind from within.
What the hell is this!?
The wind stopped.
The tablet’s glossy screen faintly reflected the stunned faces of the middle-aged men.
Was there glass there?
And that wind…?
But more importantly…
“Noel!”
I took a step forward.
My foot sank into the snow with a squish.
It was so soft that I nearly tripped and fell forward.
“Wait, Mr. Fujioka! You can’t enter before we’ve investigated the scene!”
“My daughter might be inside!”
“She’s not! Look, it’s just furniture buried in the snow. There’s no space here for a person to hide… There’s no human-shaped bulge in the snow, is there?”
As the police officer spoke, he cautiously shone his flashlight around the room.
It was daylight—he could see clearly enough.
Was he looking for blood or something…? No, that’s not it. I’d already suspected my daughter might have been caught up in a crime, and I had searched the scene with my own eyes.
If any news crews came here to gawk, I’d kick them out.
Anger consumed me as I watched helplessly, unable to do anything, while they slowly uncovered what remained of my daughter’s room.
The snow was cleared away.
The flower-like crystals, along with their pearl-like bulbs, were sent to a botanical research facility.
All that was left to me was a broken tablet and a smartphone.
I refused to call these her belongings.
Even now, recalling that day, it feels like a terrifying, otherworldly experience.
And yet, I found that snowy scene to be… beautiful.
Despite it being the site where my daughter vanished.
I can still remember the sensation of the snowflakes brushing my cheeks—strangely gentle, impossible to forget.
The sky is gradually turning white, shifting from deep blue to a gradient.
Morning is coming.
No word yet on my wife’s condition.
No news about my daughter’s whereabouts.
Nothing has changed…
“It’s possible.”
So the machine talks these days…!
While I’m still surprised, the screen switches to an email saying, “I love both Dad and Mom,” exactly as it is.
My brows furrow tightly, and I must be making a face like a demon.
“…Who did Noel say that to? Who did she ask to create this message?” “To the loyal virtual assistant, the smartphone’s AI.”
The machine spoke.
So, it wasn’t like Noel voice-operated it. She just asked. I see…
For a moment, I wondered if my daughter had been kidnapped and was asking permission from the kidnapper!? My mind went straight to a crime scenario.
Calm down. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
“Where is Noel now?” “Location tracking… location tracking…”
The location is displayed here. Huh? …Does this mean that Noel, the owner of this smartphone, is here? Ugh, how frustrating.
“El is here.” “No, she’s not. Where is she now… El?” “She’s here.” “…! Please. I truly pray for my daughter’s safety… I want to save her. Please.”
Holding the smartphone in both hands, I bow my head deeply, pleading. At this point, it’s like praying to a god. But this is the only lead I have found. Please!
The machine trembles for a moment.
As I lift my head, two of my shameless fatherly tears fall onto the hospital’s gray floor.
“‘You want to send your engagement photo to your parents, don’t you?’” “Cough!?”
What is this about!? I hurriedly look at the screen.
My mouth drops open in shock.
A girl with silver hair appears on the screen, smiling like she’s gathered all the happiness in the world, her blue eyes sparkling.
What a beauty.
Beside her is a man with the same silver hair, so close that their cheeks almost touch.
The two are framed by white flowers and wedding bells.
“…Beast ears? Do young foreigners these days wear these kinds of things at weddings…? What does this have to do with Noel? Wait.”
At first, I thought it was just a foreign wedding photo, but the snowy landscape in the background felt oddly familiar.
I had seen such a silver-white scene just the other day.
In Noel’s room.
I stare intently at the screen and gasp.
The way the silver-haired girl smiles. Her eyes narrow like crescent moons, her mouth slightly upturned, with dimples showing.
No way.
“…Noel…!?” “She is El.”
The smartphone stopped pronouncing the “No” in Noel. But that doesn’t matter.
The photos start switching, one by one. Is it playing a series of rapid shots? As a camera enthusiast, I’m curious—wait, wha—!?
“Hey, wait, just—”
The distance between the man and woman is closing.
Their lips meet. My daughter’s lips, with a stranger’s.
“Nooooooo!!!” “She is El.”
I know that!! It’s not like I got her name wrong or anything!
But what is this, it keeps progressing without my consent, as if the smartphone is mocking me.
“‘Make this a daily routine going forward…’”
The man’s voice is irritatingly smooth.
“DAILY!?”
You’ve got to be kidding me!!! What is this suave beast of a man, lightly throwing out such words!? And to look at Noel with such tender affection, proposing words of love and marriage… and his voice—completely sincere. Ugh…
Noel—or rather, the silver-haired girl’s reply:
“‘Thank you.’”
“Nooooo…!”
All the strength leaves my knees. Since I had been half-standing, I collapse forward, falling to the floor.
Where is this place? Why does she have silver hair and beast ears? Can we ever see her again? Is it El or Noel? None of that matters right now.
The only thing that concerns me is:
“Is my daughter healthy, alive, and happy…? Please, tell me.” “Yes, she is. Your daughter is happy.”
Wow, machines these days are amazing. It recognizes me and chooses words that will please me.
“You don’t have to say ‘your daughter.’ Sorry… Is Noel truly happy?” “El is happy.”
A line of small photos appears on the screen. I scroll through them with my finger. Judging by the dates, it seems to be around the time I lost contact with her.
In every photo, she stands in a snow-white landscape, her silver hair glinting, beast ears standing tall, and she’s laughing with her mouth wide open.
I’m drawn into the screen, staring for what feels like forever.
Photos, videos—there she is, living beautifully with beasts in the vibrant winter mountains.
The clear blue sky, soft snowy ground—like something out of a storybook illustration. But the way her breath rises in white puffs, you can feel this is reality too.
A drop of water hits the screen, snapping me out of my trance. Oh, it’s my tear. What…?
Somehow, without realizing it, I had started crying. Getting close to 60, I’ve become more emotional.
I don’t know what’s going on, but somehow, I feel oddly satisfied. Like my brain and eyes are tingling, receiving some kind of signal.
“…Can I send a message to these people?” “That is impossible. They are too far away.” “I see…”
In this age, there are still places where you can’t even send a message.
“Prayers will surely reach them.”
Hmm… Following the machine’s advice, I clasp my hands together, forming a hard, ice-like fist, pressing it against my forehead as I prayed.
“May El be happy…”
The words slipped out.
The machine kept calling her El, so I ended up doing the same.
I don’t need to claim her as my daughter. I’m just praying for the happiness of that girl, El. I recall the contents of the message.
“She said something about traveling, didn’t she? Noel did. So it was a trip… but she’s too far away. And she’s marrying this beast-man… or will, right?” “El will not return. But she is happy.” “I see.”
To find out about her departure this way…
I replay her voice over and over, hearing my daughter each time, and every time, I whisper, “Please be happy.”
Compared to the days of not even knowing if Noel was alive, this is undoubtedly a time of light.
The morning sun streams through the hospital window, brightly illuminating the silver-haired girl, El, on the smartphone screen.
Before I knew it, it was already 7 a.m.
“I’ve probably learned my daughter’s whereabouts… and it seems like a favorable outcome… Now, if only my wife could recover, then I would have nothing left to ask for.”
“Mr. Fujioka!”
The nurse rushes into the room.
Her face is pale—whether from lack of sleep or something else, I can’t tell.
They take me to a separate room next to the operating room, and the doctor says:
“The surgery is over. It was a success. Her heartbeat is stable, but we can’t guarantee she will regain consciousness.”
The doctor speaks plainly, not wanting to raise my hopes too much. But I can tell he is being sincere from the directness of his gaze.
“Thank you.” “No need for thanks…”
“You’re amazing for someone so young. You saved my wife’s life. Truly, thank you.” “It’s nothing.”
The doctor looks momentarily taken aback. I noticed his eyes were slightly moist, and I understood. As I bowed deeply, he hurriedly told me to raise my head. I sensed that he had worked under immense pressure, even ready to be blamed by me if things went wrong. I ended up comparing him to my daughter, who worked so hard in her company.
“Doctor, can I go see my wife? I want her to hear my daughter’s voice.” “Yes, you can.”
During the explanation, my wife had been moved to a private room. She was wearing clean hospital clothes. And she looked so frail.
“‘I love both Dad and Mom,’”
I played the audio on the smartphone, and the nurse, smiling warmly, muttered, “How lovely.”
The doctor commented, “What a wonderful daughter you have.” I proudly replied, “She is.”
I didn’t show the screen. I just played the sound, holding it to my wife’s ear.
Then a miracle happened.
My wife opened her eyes!!…