Whispers in the Winter Wind

"...Perhaps a visit to the local museum might provide some insight into our city," Yasushi proposed, his words prompting a subtle widening of Jingliu's eyes.

"The local museum? That sounds intriguing. Let's go!" Jingliu's reply was tinged with anticipation.

"They even allow food inside, so there's no need to rush or leave your snacks behind," Yasushi added, surprising her and adding a touch more delight to her expression.

"Really? That's wonderful. Lead the way," she exclaimed, seizing his wrist and pulling him along. However, her excitement was momentarily halted when she asked, "Where exactly is it?"

Yasushi chuckled softly, his amusement evident. "Just follow me. We have three hours before they close." With that, he started walking, and Jingliu released his wrist to follow suit.

+-+

After navigating through a maze of streets and making a mutual promise to revisit a peculiar "Cat Park" they had glimpsed, nestled indoors, they found themselves standing before a grand museum.

Its outer shell presented a striking blend of deep blue and pristine white, a captivating spectacle even from a distance. The dominant blue bestowed upon the structure a sense of majesty and dignity, while the accents of white injected a modern flair, keeping the design crisp and current. Flanking the entrance were towering columns, their intricate carvings whispering tales of the past and the narratives enshrined within the museum's walls.

On closer scrutiny, the intricacies of the facade emerged in full glory. Ornate patterns and motifs adorned every inch, a testament to the artistry and dedication poured into its construction. The interplay of light and texture transformed the surface into a living canvas, with shadows pirouetting across the stone, animating the very essence of the architecture.

"It's quite large... I hadn't anticipated its size. Do we need to pay an entrance fee?" Jingliu inquired, redirecting her gaze towards Yasushi.

"No, it's free. They rely on crowd funding to sustain it, and the locals here hold it dear, so it's unlikely to face closure anytime soon. There's even a chance we might participate in its operations for a week during the school term, though it's not confirmed yet," Yasushi responded.

"Participate? How so?" Jingliu's curiosity piqued, evident in the slight tilt of her head as she silently urged him to elaborate.

"It's a tradition for second-year students to lend a hand at the museum. Essentially, we'll act as auxiliary staff under the supervision of the regular staff, who will guide us but mostly stay in the background. Everyone takes it seriously, even those who are typically lazy or rebellious, as they wouldn't want their families to face criticism for half-hearted efforts," Yasushi clarified.

"Interesting. How do they select leaders? Is there a specific criterion?" Jingliu's curiosity deepened as she delved into the details of the upcoming venture.

"Academic performance, leadership qualities, teacher evaluations, and various other undisclosed factors make up the selection process. However, one key aspect is being well-liked by your peers to some degree. This often leads to outgoing and popular students being chosen, even if their academic records may not be stellar," Yasushi elucidated.

He continued, "The event typically coincides with the onset of winter holidays, drawing in a massive crowd. There's a unique attraction alongside our own version of the Aurora Borealis, a spectacle that attracts many due to the region's distinct eight-month winter."

"Ah, yes, I've heard about that. I'm looking forward to experiencing it. What about you, Yasushi? Will you be vying for a leadership role?" Jingliu inquired as they stepped into the museum, embarking on their exploration.

"No, that's not my style. I'm more inclined to assist behind the scenes, ensuring everything runs smoothly — that's just who I am, a background character, akin to those in television dramas," Yasushi replied as they neared a particular miniature monument.

Jingliu's gaze fixated on the monument. Above it, the inscription read: "Shirogane no Shugosha."

"What's this?" she queried, captivated by the structure.

"It's the city's oldest standing monument, erected centuries ago. Over time, it began to deteriorate and was eventually dismantled, but they erected a replica in the same spot. This is the Shirogane no Shugosha, or Guardian of Silver. Supposedly, its name symbolizes the concept of eternal preservation amidst harsh conditions, as articulated by the city's founding mayor," Yasushi elaborated.

"Hmm, but is the Silver Guardian a real figure, or just a myth?" Jingliu's curiosity probed deeper into the city's lore.

"I'll share the tale then. It goes something like this: In the ancient chronicles of our frozen domain, whispers carry the legend of the Guardian of Silver — a story woven from the threads of time. It is said that ages ago, a solitary wanderer named Kaito roamed the icy wilderness, his spirit tested by winter's unyielding grip. One fateful night, when the stars themselves seemed to quiver in the heavens, a goddess of silver and ice descended to bestow her grace upon him.

With eyes like moons bathed in frost, the goddess shielded Kaito from a blizzard's fury, enveloping him in a radiant cocoon of light. In that divine moment, Kaito found purpose and solace, swearing an eternal oath to honor the goddess's kindness. With her blessing, he founded Ginsukimura, a city that rose like a silver phoenix from the snow-laden ground.

As time unfurled its tapestry and the tale of Kaito and the silver goddess became intertwined with Ginsukimura' essence, the Guardian of Silver transcended mortal bounds, becoming a beacon of hope and the city's steadfast protector. Around hearthfires, stories echoed of his bravery, his unyielding devotion, and the enduring connection between mortal and divine that defined Ginsukimura as a haven amidst the icy wilderness. Thus, the legend of the Guardian of Silver endured, passed down through generations with awe and reverence, a testament to the enduring strength of faith and perseverance."

Yasushi paused, surveying the crowd that had gathered around him as he concluded the city's renowned legend. As applause rippled through the listeners, including tourists and locals alike, Yasushi blushed, unaccustomed to such attention from strangers.

A fleeting, rare smile graced Jingliu's lips as she remarked, "You have a way with stories, Yasushi. So, the first mayor's name was Kaito, right? Could we visit that monument today as well?"

Yasushi nodded, seizing Jingliu's wrist and leading her away, seeking respite from the lingering gazes and applause. A chuckle followed them, mingled with admiration for Yasushi's storytelling prowess. Finally finding a less crowded spot, Yasushi let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, but I'm hardly a storyteller. I simply recounted a tale that's been ingrained in me from living here. However, the monument isn't far, so we can make a quick stop. Let's save it for last though," he suggested, and Jingliu agreed with a nod.

+-+

They ventured into a different wing of the museum, where Jingliu's gaze fell upon a miniature sculpture depicting a rabbit and a pumpkin, a puzzling sight that prompted her question.

"What's the story behind this?" she inquired, gesturing toward the sculpture. Lacking any accompanying inscription, she was left in the dark about its significance.

Yasushi smirked knowingly. "Ah, this. It's a relatively recent addition, surprising to see it displayed here. It's known by various names, but most refer to it as the Snow Pumpkin Massacre. The rabbit depicted is named 'Little Fuku,' a female rabbit."

He proceeded to narrate the tale, his amusement evident. "The gist of it is this: our city is renowned for its pumpkins, cultivated in a designated indoor farm to the north. However, one fateful day, snow rabbits somehow infiltrated the farm and feasted on the nearly ripe pumpkins. When the farmers discovered the damage the following day, with most of the pumpkins devoured, they attempted to chase down the rabbits in a fit of frustration."

Yasushi's laughter softened, the memory of the absurd incident lingering. However, Jingliu's curiosity remained unquenched as she tilted her head and posed a question.

"So, what's the connection with Little Fuku?" she inquired, intrigued by the rabbit's role in the escapade.

Yasushi's smile widened as he delved into the rabbit's unexpected involvement. "Ah, yes. The star of the show, so to speak, was none other than Little Fuku, the plumpest rabbit they encountered, sporting a collar and the name 'Fuku,' which ironically means 'good fortune' or 'happiness' in Japanese. It's a name steeped in positive connotations, symbolizing well-being and prosperity."

He paused, savoring the irony before continuing, "Yet, Little Fuku didn't quite bring good fortune or joy; instead, it led to a series of misadventures involving missing pumpkins and a rather unexpected feast for the snow rabbits." Another chuckle escaped him, the absurdity of the situation not lost on him.

A faint smile graced Jingliu's lips. "Ah, Little Fuku," she murmured to herself, her gaze lingering on the sculpture. After a while immersed in the museum's wonders, they departed, Jingliu brimming with contentment.

As they stepped out into the darkening evening, Jingliu darted ahead, her eyes alight with curiosity as she turned back to Yasushi. "Let's visit the monument, the Guardian of Silver. I'm eager to see it, even if it's just a replica."

Yasushi nodded, a hint of apology in his tone. "Of course, I did promise to show you. And I'm sorry for getting carried away in the museum and going off on tangents."

"It's alright. I had a great time. We can always do this again, maybe even tomorrow. But for now, please take me to the statue," Jingliu requested, tilting her head expectantly.

Yasushi sighed lightly, a smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, alright, I did say we would. Let's grab some snacks on the way. There are a few convenience stores along the path."

Jingliu's smile widened subtly, anticipation gleaming in her eyes as they set off to witness the legendary statue.