The Snow That Dances Through Summer Nights（4）

"It's nothing," Dorin said flatly.

"I had my share of responsibility in Azure Emerald, too."

His tone remained cold—but beneath it was a weariness, the kind that never rekindles once it dies.The kind left behind by something long since burned out.

He let out a bitter laugh,his gaze slicing toward Fabiana like a blade.

"But you—now you remember how to blush?"

"Funny. Back when you were chasing after Yuina,I don't remember you being the least bit shy."

The words were sharp, unfiltered, cruel—dragging her reckless past and her present regret into the same harsh light,tearing them open and throwing them to the floor to be trampled.

Fabiana bit her lip,but didn't argue.

She kept her eyes down, and when she finally spoke,her voice trembled ever so slightly.

"Everyone has that version of themselves…I just never realized how ridiculous I must have looked back then—and how much I must have hurt others."

She looked up, meeting Dorin's eyes—and in that gaze, it was as if she had laid her entire heart bare before him.

"Dorin…you weren't the only one who lost someone that day.We all did."

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness.But please… at least let me apologize."

"What happened that day…it hurt both of us more than we can bear to remember."

"I just want to pass that apology—to her."

And for the first time—Dorin truly looked at her.

It wasn't a glare filled with anger—but a gaze that came after too many years apart.

A gaze that could no longer turn away.

In her eyes, he saw exhaustion.And he saw that the girl he once knew was no longer young, no longer stubborn—but quietly, painfully fragile.

"Heh… who would've thought?"

"That shy girl who used to die blushing at everything,now you can say all this, even under pressure like this."

"The last time I saw you muster that much courage…you were throwing yourself after her without a second thought."

Dorin's ice-cold expression finally cracked,just a little,under Fabiana's trembling words.

His voice was still sharp—but no longer a blade pressed to the throat.

Now, it was more like a dull nail,tapping gently on something long-buried in memory.

He turned his eyes slightly,studying Fabiana's pale but defiant face.His jaw twitched.The lines of his face softened.

And for the briefest moment—in the middle of all the scars and wreckage—

a warmth surfaced.Faint, almost forgotten,but unmistakably there.

Seeing the moment crack open, Tarin seized the chance.

"It was Fabiana who convinced the General to pull some strings and get Zarik out."

His tone carried a hint of smugness—but underneath it, there was sincerity.A friend trying to earn a sliver of recognition on someone else's behalf.

As he spoke, he looked toward Dorin,his gaze quietly saying: She's really trying to make things right.

Unexpectedly—those words unlocked something else entirely.

A subtle shift came over Dorin's face.The cold detachment that had held his expression rigid for so long wavered—just slightly.

His brows, once tightly knit, loosened almost imperceptibly.

He didn't respond right away.Instead, he stared at Fabiana for a long moment.

Then lowered his eyes,his throat moving with the effort of swallowing something down—something too tangled to speak aloud.

"Zarik…"

The name lingered on Dorin's lips,as he pressed them together—as if chewing on the weight it still carried.

"He ended up in there too?"

"That guy was supposed to be…"

"Wasn't he the pride and glory beneath the wings of the Federation's great eagle?"

His voice held a trace of disbelief,but also something else.A flicker of something long-buried, hard to name—perhaps a strange comfort,perhaps the quiet satisfaction of shared downfall.

If there was anyone in this world Dorin still hadn't resolved his hatred toward—

it was Zarik Elan.

The one who had once shone so bright, it hurt to look at him.The one he had once admired.Envied.Opposed.And yet, the one whose brilliance,whose courage,he could never quite deny.

Tarin let out a faint chuckle,though there was little amusement in his expression.

He exhaled a long breath,and when he spoke again,his voice was much lower than before.

"Fallout from Azure Emerald."

The moment the words left his mouth,it was as if the room's temperature dropped several degrees.

Fabiana opened her mouth to explain,but Tarin raised a hand slightly, stopping her.

His gaze darkened.His tone shifted—measured, steady, grim.

"The fall of Azure Emerald didn't make the Synai nationalists back down."

"On the contrary—what they saw in that disaster was the Federation's weakness."

"All that anger, all that marginalization,it was like dry tinder finally touched by flame."

"Nationalism…"

"…has spread its tendrils into every corner of the Federation."

"It's reached a point where,the Federation doesn't have a single answer left."

Dorin said nothing.

He slowly tapped the ash from his cigarette into the tray,his fingers trembling ever so slightly.But his eyes held no surprise.

It was as if he had already seen this future—in every silent night behind bars,in every morning he woke from a nightmare soaked in sweat.

He murmured, almost to himself

"So… that kid from Solivane ended up becoming a nationalist too?"

"He's buried himself so deep in that storm,he couldn't claw his way out even if he wanted to."

Fabiana picked up the thread of Tarin's words,her gaze drifting toward the same window Dorin had stared out of just moments before.

Outside the window, the city blurred by wind and snow seemed to hold its breath.Silver-white ice crystals settled silently along the damp window ledge,forming a thin, transparent frost—like the heartbeat of a planet suspended in silence.

The snowflakes above the planet ceased their wild dance.Beneath the heavy clouds, the skies remained gray and lightless,as if dawn would never come to this place.

In the chill of June,the air carried not only the faint fragrance of Five-Spice Wine,but something deeper, heavier,the heady, intoxicating scent of nationalism.

A scent destined to enthrall the masses.A scent destined to lure crowds into devotion—and destined to cost a chosen few everything.

Even their lives.

"A top student of the Federation Naval Academy—

and even he has moments this foolish?"

Dorin sneered, his tone laced with open disdain and a weary kind of disappointment.

"He pinned his future—his entire fate—on a bunch of nationalist extremists trying to tear the country apart…and a dream that's nothing but smoke and illusion."

"He's far more naive now than he ever was back then."

He took the cigarette Fabiana handed him,his eyes never leaving the dying flames in the hearth.

"Well, well. Dreamgirl, huh?"

"You've done pretty well for yourself these past few years—can even afford the high-end ladies' brands now."

He narrowed his eyes, lips curled in mockery.His tone was light, teasing—but the bitterness in his gaze, lit by firelight, was all too real.

It wasn't hatred, not anymore.It was something else.A mixture of exhaustion, disillusionment,and a quiet instinct to protect what little of himself he had left.

He had once hated her.Had hated himself too.

But now he was simply too tired.Even hatred took too much energy.

All that remained was a faint, melting chill,like snow water sliding down the bones.

Fabiana didn't argue.She just offered him a small, quiet smile,and held out her lighter.

This time, Dorin didn't refuse.He took it, lit the cigarette,inhaled deeply and for a moment, looked almost… content.

"Dreamgirl"—

a brand of custom cigarettes that had quietly become a favorite in the upper circles of urban aristocracy in recent years.

Rumor had it the scent was originally developed by a fragrance lab,specially commissioned for female officers.It was marketed under a single, poetic concept:

"To find romance in the weight of war."

Its aroma was distinctive—a complex blend of rose and black pepper.A scent that embodied the entanglement of conflict and tenderness.A luxury too delicate, too self-indulgent,to ever belong to the lower rungs of society.

And now, it burned in this cramped, damp little room—a room soaked in mildew and cold.

It burned between two people and the ruins of a friendship on the edge of collapse.

Navy-blue smoke drifted slowly from Dorin's lips,twisting upward through the yellow glow of the old ceiling lamp,like a ghost long trapped in silence,finally slipping into the air to wander and unravel.

The scent of the cigarette threaded through the old wooden walls,through the tattered curtains—a fragrance too refined, too unreal for a place like this.

The ceiling light swayed overhead,its glow flickering unsteadily,barely managing to illuminate the small patch of floor at the center of the room.

Everywhere else—shadows pooled in silence,lurking like quiet warnings.Reminders that whatever they had once shared…was long gone.

"What are you planning to do now?"

Tarin accepted the cigarette Fabiana handed him,holding it beneath his nose and inhaling the deep, bitter scent of tobacco.

His lighter struck with a soft click.A flame flickered in his palm,just like it had the day they lit their very first cigarette—young, wide-eyed,and on fire for the future.

The man being asked froze.A slow bitterness crept across his pale face.His eyes wandered the empty air for a moment,then gradually fell—settling on the hand that now held the cigarette.

"…I don't know."

The words came out low and hoarse.There was no resolve in his voice—only a slow, snow-like descent into defeat and exhaustion.

His face looked even paler than the flickering yellow light above,a numb, bitter curve tugging at the corner of his lips.

"…I don't know."

He finally spoke softly, barely above a whisper.There was no certainty in his voice.Only weariness,falling like winter snow.

His face looked even paler than the dying yellow light,his lips curled into a bitter, numb arc.

"I don't know."

He repeated it again,as if trying to confirm the helplessness in saying something he had no control over.

Tarin exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.It drifted in the cold, dim air,trembling before dissolving into silence.

There was a time when they had been brilliant young officers,their futures carved out like star paths across the sky.

Back then,they never imagined they'd worry about survival,or career paths that led nowhere.

Now,some of them had climbed exactly where they were meant to be—

and some had fallen.Fallen so hard they didn't just bleed—they barely breathed.

With a flick, Tarin snapped the spent cigarette to the floor.It landed with a sharp crack.

That tiny red ember rolled a few inches,flickering,before it caught dust and ash,and quietly vanished into the shadows of the room—its brief, unimpressive life extinguished.

"Take this—for now."

Tarin's voice was calm,but underneath it, there was a quiet insistence that left no room for refusal.

He reached into the inner pocket of his uniform and pulled out a thick stack of banknotes,placing them in front of Dorin.

"You trying to insult me with this?"

"Or is this your way of showing me how far above me you've climbed since the old days?"

Dorin's eyes locked onto his,burning.

His voice cut through the room like a blade—each word snapping in the air,sharp with the crackle of rising fury.

His knuckles turned white,and every muscle in his body tightened into a stance of instinctive defiance.

Tarin didn't respond right away.He simply stood there,staring at the man who had once fought beside him—now a shadow of that soldier,but no less proud.

The words he wanted to say circled in his throat,but in the end,he only let out a quiet:"You misunderstood me."

His voice dropped as he spoke,barely above a whisper—tinged with the weariness of someone worn down by reality.

"Look at yourself right now."

"You can't find work—what, you're going to live the rest of your life off a trickle of government relief?"

"Feed yourself—feed her—with that?"

At the mention of her,Tarin let his gaze drift slowly toward the half-closed door across the room.Behind it—the quiet silhouette of a child.

There was something unmistakable in his eyes now:worry,regret.Memory.And that look stirred something in the man standing before him.

Memories rose—uninvited and unwanted—washing through Dorin like floodwaters,

bringing with them the ache of old pain and bitterness.

His eyes—already dim with fatigue—seemed to fracture with sorrow.

"I'll pay you back."

The words came out rough, nearly broken—like rusted iron trembling in the cold wind.Bitter.Heavy.

And in Tarin's silence—his quiet guilt—something in Dorin's tightly drawn face finally began to soften.

Not in surrender.But in a kind of ungraceful, cornered mercy—the self-redemption of a man torn between pride and helplessness.

He took the stack of bills—his hands calloused and stained with oil,fingers rough from years of labor.

Carefully,he counted each note one by one,his eyes steady, his motions slow.When he was done,he let out a soft, tired sigh.

Then, gently—almost reverently—he slid the money into the worn, fraying pocket of his suspenders,as if tucking away the last fragile remnants of his dignity.

"As long as it helps you,"Tarin said softly, sincerely.

His eyes found Dorin's again.

"I just hope… there's still something left between us.

Some part of what we used to have."

"Don't talk to me about what we used to have."

Dorin's voice was low, hoarse stripped raw.

He looked up,gaze drifting past Tarin, past Fabiana,eyes hollow,as if searching for something already lost.

"There's nothing left."

"From the moment that day ended—whatever we had,it died with it."

His words came slow,each one heavy with bitterness and something far darker.

"You two still have everything—titles, medals, positions."

"And me?"

"I'm no longer part of this era.I've long since fallen out of the eagle's grace."

"You don't need to parade your accomplishments in front of me."

"And don't bring the blessings that eagle gave you—into this filthy little corner where I rot."

He leaned heavily against the wall,like a rusted steel frame barely holding together a ruined shell of a body.

"To me… all of that means nothing."

"I don't deserve things that were never mine."

"All I want—is to quietly rot away in the darkest corner of this godforsaken planet."

As the last word fell,the room descended into a silence so thick it felt like it could choke the air from their lungs.

The fire in the hearth cracked sharply as if applauding his cruel, unyielding resolve.

Fabiana reached out, almost reflexively,trying to press the bundle of bills into his hand again.But Dorin swatted it away without hesitation.

The motion was quick.Firm.Final.It wasn't just rejection.It was the last-ditch defense

of a man trying desperately to protect what little remained of his dignity before reality could grind it into dust.

"Fabiana, are you staying to talk to him?"

Tarin finally broke the silence.His voice was gentle, but tired.

"I've got another meeting this afternoon,I have to go."

He stepped past Dorin,who still stood in the middle of the room like a statue carved from ice,and moved toward the window.

Reaching up,he wiped away the thin layer of condensation that had formed on the upper pane.

Outside,the snow had stopped.Night had yet to fully descend,but the neighborhood was already drowned in a dimness that blurred every outline of human life.

The streets were empty.Only a few streetlamps flickered in the distance,swaying alone in the wind.

Inside,the fire crackled again,someone had added fresh logs.The rising heat pushed back the lingering chill that had seeped into the walls.Tarin's gaze drifted back from the window and landed quietly on Fabiana.

The warmth had brought a faint blush to her cheeks,and the steam curled the loose strands of her hair against her temple.

"Can I have a word with her?"

Dorin's voice cut in before Fabiana could answer.It was calm—cool, even.

"…Sure."

Tarin looked at them both,then gave a small, tired smile.

"You two should talk."

Tarin paused for a breath.

"There's been too much misunderstanding between you for far too long."

"If there's even a chance to set something right…it'd be good for all of us."

He didn't say more.He reached for his military cap,resting quietly on the back of the chair.

The dull gray eagle insignia shimmered faintly in the flickering firelight.

He placed the cap firmly on his head,then, as he passed Fabiana,his hand gently touched her shoulder—then quickly tapped the small of her back.She blinked, startled.Turned to look at him.

But all she got was a quiet, steady glance from Tarin—a silent message,a confirmation.

Then he reached for the door.Cold wind poured in again as it opened,but this time it no longer stung.

His silhouette vanished beyond the frame,and the wooden door shut with a soft click.

The room was left with only the crackle of firewood and the faint, lingering scent of snow.

"Never thought I'd be the one to let you stay."

Dorin muttered the words under his breath,his eyes still fixed on the darkening world outside the window.

But just as he turned away—something cold pressed suddenly against his waist.