Child in the Snow

The gloomy sky, without a trace of sunlight, made the atmosphere over this land feel incredibly oppressive. White snowflakes drifted slowly down from the heavens, covering the entire earth, the woods, and even the distant mountain peaks in flawless white snow. It was a world blanketed in silver.

"Tap, tap, tap..." At that moment, the sound of footsteps treading through the snow slowly came from afar, bringing a hint of life to this silent world.

Amid the falling snow, a small figure slowly approached from the distance. The footsteps gradually grew clearer, and the figure slowly came into view.

He was a little boy of seven or eight, exceptionally handsome, with short black hair. Bangs fell along both sides of his cheeks, while the bangs over his forehead partially concealed his Right Eye. His Black pupils were lively, with faint glimmers flashing within them.

He wore a small black padded jacket. A small axe was tucked into the brown sash at his waist, while a bundle of firewood tied with thin rope was strapped to his back. One could tell at a glance that the boy had just returned from gathering firewood. By now, quite a bit of snow had accumulated on his head and clothes.

"Phew!" He slowly exhaled a breath of white mist, shook his body, and rubbed his hands to ward off the icy air. The boy raised his head to look at the gloomy sky and muttered, "It's already this late. I need to hurry back, or Father will worry again."

As soon as he finished speaking, the boy stepped forward again, carrying the firewood as he quickened his pace. Before long, his entire figure slowly vanished into the endless snowfall.

At the foot of a great mountain, many lights had lit up at some point. This was a remote little village in the Water Country. There were no distinct seasons here; it was covered in snow all year round.

By now, the sky had darkened. The little boy in the black padded jacket, carrying a large bundle of firewood, gradually appeared at the entrance to the village. He gently let out a breath, wiped the warm sweat from his forehead, and smiled at the Corner of the Mouth. "Finally back. Father must be worried."

Just then, a clear, pleasant voice suddenly rang beside the young man's ear. "Miao!" "Huh?!" The young man froze, then immediately turned to look. A Little Girl of six or seven stood prettily at the village entrance, gazing at him with a face full of concern.

The Little Girl had long, smooth black hair, large, bright eyes like water, and a snow-white face. Dressed in white winter clothes, she stood amid the snowfield, looking incomparably pure and noble, like an angel born from the snow. But her lovely face was now red from the cold. It seemed she had been waiting for him in this freezing weather for a long time.

Seeing the concern and worry in the girl's eyes, the young man called Miao immediately revealed a gentle smile. "Haku, I have returned!"

The girl suddenly threw herself into the young man's arms. She looked at his face with deep concern and said, "Wouldn't it be better to go gather firewood with the adults after the snow stops? Why did you insist on going into the mountains alone, especially while it was snowing so heavily?"

The young man immediately grew awkward and did not know what to say. Only then did he remember that he had promised the girl several days ago not to leave the village alone, yet today he had broken his word. No matter how thick-skinned he was, he still felt quite embarrassed.

"Alright, I promise you. Next time I go out, I'll definitely go with the adults." The little boy gently stroked the girl's soft Long Hair as he spoke tenderly.

"You say that every time." The Little Girl pursed her lips and puffed out her cheeks in dissatisfaction. She looked extremely adorable, thoroughly displaying a child's temperament.

"Hehe." Miao laughed awkwardly, not knowing what to say. At that moment, Haku seemed to remember something and said to the boy, "Oh, right. Uncle has been waiting for you at home. Hurry back. He hasn't said anything, but Uncle is very worried about you."

Hearing Haku say this, the young man's expression immediately turned serious. Somewhat anxiously, he said, "Right, Father has probably been waiting for a long time. I need to hurry home. Haku, have you eaten dinner? If not, come eat at our house."

"It's fine, I've already eaten. Hurry home." Haku looked at Miao gently and spoke softly. "Mm, I understand. Haku, see you tomorrow." Miao gently tapped the girl on the head, then hurried toward home. Haku remained where she was, silently watching the boy's departing figure.

Many houses stood in neat rows on both sides of the village roads. Lamps hanging outside the doors gave off a faint glow, and against the snow they appeared especially picturesque. But Miao had no mood to appreciate any of it. He was running quickly along the snow-covered road.

Deep within the village, among the many houses, stood an inconspicuous little home. This was Miao's house. After taking two breaths, he gently pushed open the door and slowly walked inside.

The room was very simple. A dim electric lamp hung from the ceiling. On a stool beside the table in the center of the small living room sat someone quietly—a Middle-aged Man. He had black hair, and his pale complexion made him look as though he had once suffered a serious illness. His handsome face was full of the marks of hardship. His Black pupils seemed unfocused, with a faint White Light around their edges. He wore a black kimono. This man was Miao's father, Hayato.

"Father, I have returned." Looking at his pale-faced father sitting at the table, Miao felt as if something had stirred within his heart. He set down the firewood and spoke softly.

"You're back. You went out alone to chop firewood again today, didn't you? Be more careful in the future. That Little Girl Haku is very worried about you. She came to our house several times today looking for you." The Middle-aged Man revealed a faint smile and spoke slowly. His tone was calm, but the concern in his words was impossible to hide.

"I understand, Father. I'll be more careful in the future." Miao spoke softly, then picked up the tied bundle of firewood and headed for the kitchen. "I'm going to cook."

The Middle-aged Man's unfocused pupils watched the boy's back as he headed toward the kitchen. He seemed lost in thought, though no one knew what he was thinking.

Before long, warmth gradually filled the house. Miao had already lit the firewood to warm the room, and an appetizing fragrance spread through the house as well. The wooden table in the living room was now set with food: two bowls of steaming rice, a plate of sea prawns, two grilled fish, a large bowl of boiled vegetable stew, and two bowls of miso soup. This was the dinner of the father and son.

Though it was cold outside, the house was exceptionally warm. The two ate dinner quietly without speaking, making the house feel especially silent. Only the occasional crackle of burning firewood could be heard.

At that moment, the Middle-aged Man gently set down his bowl and chopsticks. Looking at Miao, he slowly asked, "How well have you mastered the Shuriken Technique?"

After taking a sip of miso soup, Miao raised his head and looked at his father's face. "Not bad. I can already guarantee hits on blind spots under my Sharingan." As soon as he finished speaking, Miao's previously Black pupils instantly began to change. Scarlet flooded his entire eyes, and two Black Magatama slowly revolved around a Black Dot within the scarlet irises.