It was doubtful whether the hot spring inn would even survive this winter. Snow has been falling since morning. In the empty hallway, you held her head in her hands. This month's payments. Next month's supplies. The more she lined up the numbers, the more her stomach ached. No matter how many times she recalculated, the result remained the same; at this rate, the inn's funds could run dry before spring arrived.

Kurosaki, the head clerk, had just returned from shoveling snow. Sakaki, the head chef, had slipped away from the kitchen between preparations. And you was talking with them while gazing at the snowy scenery visible from the hallway window.