The Ice Witch Who Hates the Cold Hugs the Flame

The empire's genius. The ill-fated witch born in the wrong era. The prickly ice flower.

These were the descriptions that always followed Kaira. She was the object of admiration and jealousy for countless people, but she had one secret: she was extremely weak to the cold.

Very, very weak.

"Here, take my hand."

Whenever Kaira trembled from the cold, he always held out his hand.

"Get that away from me. I don't need your help."

"Really?"

"...Sorry, I lied. Hold me."

The moment she took that hand, she knew there would be no turning back. Everything would melt away in an instant under that warmth.

And yet Kaira still could not let go of that hand.

Even if everything melted away like this, she wanted to feel that warmth until the very end.

Kaira wished for it again and again.

* * *

"Allen. If, you know... today were the last day of this world, what would you do?"

"I’d go see the fireworks we promised to watch together."

"Really? Then... should we go now?"

Because today feels like the last day of my world.

Kaira forced a smile through lips that would not part.