“This tale begins at the end of a certain winter…”

As the final snows melt, the god of winter, King Ullr, leads his court of frost fairies and spirits away.

The last snowflake drifts down… and with it, winter says goodbye to the world.

🌸 Then comes spring.

Flowers bloom, bees dance with joy, birds sing, animals stretch from slumber.

The world begins to thaw, as it should — the natural cycle.

But then… something strange happens.

❄️ One child does not follow.

The son of winter, a mischievous little god with white hair and icy eyes, refuses to leave.

He laughs and tosses snowballs—playfully freezing the fairies of spring.

The earth is supposed to awaken… but now it slumbers again, trapped in frost.

The fairies are frozen in time.

The child stops and looks around.

Everyone is frozen.

No one laughs.

No one plays.

He drops his snowballs.

The silence makes his heart ache.

He builds an ice chair and sits… alone. Eyes filling with tears.

Then—🌿

A light.

A green light flashes.

THUD! Something lands next to him.

The son of spring has arrived — warm, glowing, curious.

They stare at each other in silence.

The son of winter turns away, folding his arms in cold defiance.

The son of spring watches… and smiles.

He reaches out, touching Winter’s icy crown.

🌹 It blooms — with pink, red, and white roses.

Winter stands, shocked.

He skates, angry, his magic forming sharp ice across the floor, threatening the young god.

But Spring only claps his hands.

The room fills with sunshine, golden wind, and wildflowers.

He holds out a hand.

🌸 “Dance with me?”

Winter hesitates…

Then slowly, shyly… he takes the hand.

And they dance.

🕊️ One cold, one warm.

One still, one moving.

They laugh, spin, and melt the season back into balance.

“After the dance, they said goodbye with a handshake.

The son of winter left with King Ullr…

And Edden, god of spring, could finally awaken the world.”

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long golden rays over the palace gardens. Sora’s fingers moved tenderly among the petals, the delicate roses blooming beneath his touch. The air smelled faintly of earth and blossoms, a soft promise of spring’s warmth.

He hummed quietly, lost in the simple joy of nurturing life.

“Sora! Sora, come inside! Winter is coming!”

The sharp voice of his mother pierced the calm.

Startled, Sora looked up, eyes wide. The distant sky had already begun to darken with rolling gray clouds, a chill creeping into the air.

He set down his watering can and hurried toward the castle. His feet barely touched the ground as he raced through the winding paths.

Just as he reached the grand doors, his mother was waiting. Her eyes were fierce with worry. Before he could protest, the heavy door slammed shut behind him.

“You must stay inside,” she said, her voice low but unyielding. “Hyōga will come. He cannot see you.”

Sora’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. The boy who had once danced with winter — the cold prince who had left him frozen in memory — was coming back. And now, the world was holding its breath.

He pressed his palm against the cool wood of the door, his fingers trembling. Outside, the first snowflake fell drifted down silently—then, just as it touched the ground, the entire garden fell into an eerie, frozen stillness.

A sharp crack echoed through the air.

Sora’s breath caught in his throat as a shadow appeared at the edge of the frosted trees—tall, pale, and impossibly cold.

And then, a voice—quiet, but filled with a cold intensity—whispered,

“Spring… it’s time to face winter again.”

To be continued

The garden smelled like warm soil and blooming herbs.

Sora knelt gently beside a row of violets, his fingers dusted with earth, watering can in hand. A soft breeze carried the scent of blossoms as sunlight kissed his cheeks.

Everything felt calm… for now.

“Sora! Sora, come inside! Winter is coming!”

His mother’s voice echoed from the castle steps, urgent and sharp.

Sora flinched, blinking up at the sky. A faint gray cloud was stretching across the blue. The air had shifted… just slightly colder.

“Okay, okay! I’m coming!”

He stood, brushing off his knees, and trotted back toward the castle.

The door slammed shut behind him.

His mother didn’t speak. She only looked at him once—eyes sharp, lips tight—and turned the key in the lock.

Sora tilted his head.

“Why… lock me in?”

But she was already gone.

He made his way to his room, sighing. The air inside was quiet, the fireplace glowing gently. He flopped onto his bed, ruffled his hair, and reached for the small stack of books beside him.

It was a love story.

Two boys who met in secret… from different worlds. One of them had ice powers too.

Sora smiled softly as he flipped through the pages.

“I totally ship them,” he mumbled to himself. “They’re so obvious…”

He rolled onto his stomach, flipping the book closed.

Then paused.

His eyes narrowed a little.

“...What if someone is reading my story right now?”

“Like… right this second. What if I’m in a book too?”

He blinked at the ceiling.

“Nah. What nonsense am I thinking…”

Just then—

CRASH.

Glass shattered.

Wind howled through the room.

Sora screamed, throwing up his arms.

The window was broken—frost spreading across the floor, curling like claws.

And standing in the center of the shards…

Was him.

Tall. Pale. Cold.

Eyes like cracked ice.

Hyōga Takumi.

He was holding in his hand—

A blade of ice.

He lunged.

“You—!”

Sora stumbled backward, books falling off the bed.

“WAIT—WHAT ARE YOU—?!”

The blade slashed down.

The blade came down—

But Sora ducked, the icy wind slicing just above his head.

“What the hell?!” he cried, rolling to the side as Hyōga’s blade struck the wooden floor with a crack.

Sora ran.

His bare feet slid across the frost-covered halls as he bolted out of his bedroom, heart pounding like thunder. His breath fogged in the air. The once warm castle now felt like a frozen crypt.

He didn’t look back.

He couldn’t.

Turning the corner, he spotted the grand ballroom—

Once used for spring festivals and moonlit dances.

Now empty.

He burst through the golden doors, the room echoing his every footstep.

“Come on, come on—where do I go—”

Suddenly, his foot caught the edge of a rug.

Sora fell hard onto the marble floor.

“Ah—!”

He winced, rubbing his elbow.

Behind him, footsteps approached—measured, calm… but heavy with intent.

Hyōga stepped into the ballroom, bathed in soft moonlight.

His blade glistened with frost. His cape dragged across the cold floor. His expression unreadable—cold, calculating…

Until he saw—

Sora.

On the floor.

Tears clinging to his lashes.

Small, soft sniffles escaping from him as he sat up, eyes wide and glossy.

“W-why are you doing this…?”

“What did I even do…?”

He tried to be strong, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him.

He looked so confused. So scared.

And—

So cute.

Hyōga froze.

His hand holding the blade began to tremble.

His heart kicked.

His ears turned pink.

His face turned a bright shade of red.

Sora blinked.

“...Huh?”

“W-why is your face red?”

To be continued

Hyōga tensed, as though struck by a spell.

And then—

"Ah-CHOO!"

Sora sneezed.

A small, helpless sound. Soft like a flower brushing against silk.

Hyōga stiffened.

His breath caught—

A thin stream of blood slipped from his nose.

His eyes flew wide. He jerked back, yanking his cape up to his face in embarrassment.

"Damn it," he muttered into his sleeve. "What is wrong with me?"

He turned away from Sora, hiding his face. His hand gripped the handle of his blade so tightly, frost cracked along the hilt.

Then, in a voice low and fierce, filled with something ancient and possessive—

"You’re mine."

"I don’t care how many springs pass.

You belong to me."

Sora gasped quietly.

He clutched his chest as though the words had hit him directly in the heart.

“W-What…?”

But just as his voice trembled—

The air shifted.

The frost spiraled upward like breath taken by the wind.

A burst of cold light scattered like snow falling in reverse—

And in an instant—

Hyōga was gone.

Vanished like a ghost.

No sound. No footsteps.

Only the soft dripping of melting ice across the ballroom floor…

And the scent of snow lingering in the air.

Sora sat there alone.

Shivering.

Blushing.

Confused.

“...Did I just… imagine that?”

He glanced at his hand. A tiny snowflake had landed on his palm.

But it didn’t melt.

No.

It couldn’t have been real. It was too strange. Too fast. Too—

"What nonsense..." he whispered, standing shakily.

He stepped carefully across the ballroom, past the frost-burned tiles, and out through the golden double doors. Everything in the hallway was quiet again. Warm. Normal.

Like it had never happened.

“Just a weird dream. Maybe I stayed up too late reading that BL book again…” he mumbled, cheeks pink.

But as he walked past the hall of mirrors and into the corridor that led toward the garden, something made him pause.

He reached for the silver handles of the side door—the ones that always led out to the Spring Garden.

But when he pulled…

Clink.

The door wouldn’t budge.

He tugged again.

Harder.

Crack…

Thin, white frost had crept along the seams of the frame. The hinges were frozen in place.

His breath caught.

“Why is it… frozen?”

That’s when he heard them.

Two soft voices, around the corner—maids whispering in the shadows.

“—I told you he returned last night. Didn’t you see the frost in the east wing?”

“He was seen on the roof. The guards said they caught a glimpse. White cape. Blade like ice.”

“The Winter Prince. After ten years...”

Sora pressed closer to the wall, straining to hear.

“But why now?”

“They say he’s looking for something.”

“Or someone.”

“A fairy boy. The one from back then. The one who made him dance.”

Sora’s eyes widened.

He stepped back—heart pounding again.

"No… no no no. He was real?"

He turned and ran back to his room, gripping the pendant around his neck. It was warm with spring energy… but something colder was growing beneath it.

To be continued