‘It’s OK, I’m fine.’ Yuni’s soft smile was back in place. But even with her normal expression restored, I just couldn’t figure it out: I couldn’t read how she was feeling on the inside. Although she’d gone out of her way to come and see me at work, and going home so quickly must mean she felt let down by my reaction.

‘Do you fancy a cup of tea somewhere?’ I racked my brain for a suitable place to take her.

But Yuni flashed her smile at me again. ‘Really, it’s OK, don’t worry,’ she said.

I had no idea if she was turning down my offer because she wanted to, or because she thought she should.

‘Well, be careful on your way home then.’ I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I gave a feeble wave as she walked away. She rounded the corner without looking back.

Soft flakes of snow began to swirl around me. We were nearing the end of May and something, somewhere, wasn’t right.

I turned around to walk back towards the shop, and was just reaching out for the door of the staff entrance when, out of nowhere, I recalled the sunny skies of midwinter. A translucent blue, with the sunbeams lighting up the branches of the frozen trees and making them sparkle with silver. Days so bright they hurt your eyes, and you just knew the temperature was about to take a plunge.

In the mountain village where I was raised it sometimes dipped as low as minus thirty degrees. When it got that cold, just once or twice a year, the night before would see a sky full of stars. And the next morning, not a cloud to be seen. Everything frozen, just sparkling snow and ice. Your breath froze, your eyelashes stiffened, and if you were careless enough to open your mouth too widely your windpipe would close up with a sharp, stabbing pain.

I remembered that sort of frozen morning. The sunny days were the most frightening.

Kazune in torment. Yuni bursting out laughing. Yuni suddenly crying. Which one’s heart was truly frozen? That was a question I don’t think anyone could answer.

IV

Far From Advanced

Surrender Yourself to the Wind

‘So I’m on the roof of a high-rise, standing alone on the wrong side of the safety barrier. My shoes are sticking out from the ledge; it’s only eight inches wide. Way down below I see cars and what look like people strolling. I try to steady my nerves, keep my footing. Raising my eyes, I look up at the sky. The wind is blowing and I don’t know how long I can hold on. Won’t someone please come and help me?