The woman stood by the hotel lobby, dressed in a chic blue jumpsuit, adorned with a delicate scarf and clutching a small handbag. Spotting him, she waved her hand, prompting the taxi driver to halt his car. He swiftly descended and courteously opened the door for her.

Expressing gratitude, the woman slipped into the back seat. "To the port, please, but let's go through the downton," she requested.

"Certainly, ma'am."

As they set off, the driver inquired about the cabin temperature, to which the woman responded with a soft murmur. Lost in thought, she gazed out of the window, while the driver stole glances at her through the rearview mirror. Despite her stylish appearance, she didn't seem like the typical tourist. That was a relief; the driver had only picked up one passenger earlier that day—a midday reveler who was still feeling the effects.

Navigating smoothly through the main street's bustling shops, they encountered little traffic, ensuring they arrived at the port punctually.

"The Nishii supermarket in this area," remarked the woman. "It's closed now, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, noting the woman's inclination toward conversation. "It shut down about three months ago."

"Wasn't it the last one in the city?"

"That's correct. They've repurposed the building into an English school."

"Why did it close? Do you happen to know?"

"They claimed bankruptcy. In recent years, Nishii supermarkets have been closing one after another. They couldn't keep up with the competition from other supermarkets."

The woman let out a sigh, prompting him to sneak a closer look at her face. Not many passengers express concern about nearly bankrupt supermarkets.

As he studied his passenger's face, the driver recalled someone asking him the same question about a year ago. He pondered whether this woman might be that same person. With a constant flow of passengers entering his taxi daily, he typically didn't remember faces, except for those with specific requests or those who engaged him in conversation.

"You visited Yokohama last year, didn't you?" he decided to make sure.

The woman gasped, meeting the driver's eyes through the rearview mirror. "That's correct. How did you know?"

"Last year, you also rode in my taxi. You went to the port and requested a detour. We briefly passed by two Nishii supermarkets, still open back then, though you didn't disembark. I hesitated at first, but upon closer inspection, I remembered you."

"Ah, forgive me..." the woman chuckled. "I'm embarrassed I forgot you were my chauffeur."

As they exchanged pleasantries, the woman introduced herself, and the driver told her his name. "Forgive me for asking again," the driver continued. "Is Nishii-san the owner of that Nishii supermarket? Your name matches the store's."

"I'm acquainted with the owner. Hirose-san himself, are you a Yokohama native?"

"No, my hometown is up North. What about Nishii-san?"

"I've spent half my life in this city," Nishii-san nodded. "But now I reside in Tokyo and only visit Yokohama once a year, in spring time like this."

It seemed to him that his passenger didn't shy away from discussing personal matters. "Is your visit to Yokohama for family?"

The woman fell silent for a moment. "I'm searching for someone. But I think the person I'm seeking is no longer here."

"Did the person move away?"

"Perhaps," Nishii-san responded cryptically. "More like vanished."

"Vanished? Have you contacted the authorities?"

"The police," Nishii-san snorted before letting out a bitter chuckle. "They can't help. I doubt the person I'm seeking will return, so today marks my final visit to the port to bid farewell."

"I'm sorry," the driver expressed, his concern evident. "I understand the pain of loss. I've also lost people I deeply cared about."

...

The bell signaling halftime reverberated throughout the rink. He swiftly grabbed his stick and glided to the edge, glancing at the unchanged numbers on the scoreboard. Two rounds had passed, and the game remained deadlocked. If the team couldn't notch a goal in the third round, overtime was inevitable. And he couldn't afford to stick around any longer!

"Hirose!" Watanabe, the assistant coach, sprinted toward him, nearly slipping on a patch of melting ice. "HIROSE!"

"What's the matter, Watanabe-san?"

Watanabe-san pounded his chest forcefully. "Damn it, you're a father now!"

It felt as though lightning had struck him. "Has Keina given birth?"

"I just got a call from your in-laws. It's a baby girl. She weighs three and a half kilos!" Then, feigning a punch to the stomach, the assistant coach yelled to the teammates, "This idiot is out here playing hockey while his wife is delivering in the hospital!"

Coach Kusanagi chimed in. "Are you serious?"

He still couldn't believe it himself. "Watanabe-san, you're not joking, are you?"

"Of course I'm not!" Watanabe-san bellowed. "Congratulations, you lucky punk!"

The teammates erupted in cheers, surrounding him with congratulations and joyful shouts. Across the rink, the opposing team watched them with bemusement, as if they were witnessing a scene of utter madness.

That day, his team emerged victorious. They clinched the win by a narrow two-point margin, but for him, the score hardly mattered. There would be no overtime. Without even removing his uniform, he and the rest of the ice hockey team hastily boarded the bus and raced to the hospital. Throughout the journey, he felt as though he were floating on air. It was the happiest day of his life.

...

He and Keina decided to name their baby Hikari. Hikari became the first baby within the hockey team's ranks—several other married players were either still expecting or had chosen not to have children, while Coach Kusanagi and Watanabe-san's children were already grown up. Despite being a girl, Hikari became somewhat of a mascot for the team.

When Hikari turned one, Keina brought her to the rink to watch a match. To their delight, the child showed boundless enthusiasm, never fussing even in the chilly rink. As Hikari learned to speak, she would imitate Keina and cheer, "Daddy, you can do it!"

Every time he learned that Hikari was coming to watch, his excitement surged. If his teammates spotted his fervor, they would jokingly whisper, "The tiger has arrived!"

They dominated all opponents in their prefecture, sailed through regional selections, and geared up to face the "big boys" in Tokyo. As the team's center, he basked in praise. Three-quarters of the team's goals came from his stick. Life was perfect.

However, two weeks before departing for Tokyo, a brutal snowstorm swept through the city. That night, the power went out, rendering the electric heater useless. They had to rely on kerosene-filled manual heaters, which couldn't be left burning for long due to fire hazards. He fetched extra blankets from the cupboard to keep Keina and two-year-old Hikari warm during the chilly night.

By midnight, electricity trickled back, albeit at a low voltage. Keina rose to prepare milk, but upon returning to the room, she sensed something wasn't right.

"Tora, come see!" she called out urgently.

Hurriedly, he joined her and lifted the blanket enveloping Hikari. Their daughter had been sleeping peacefully moments ago, but now she seemed unnaturally still. Keina shook Hikari gently to rouse her, but the toddler remained motionless. He checked her temperature, finding her forehead and neck chillingly cold. Placing a finger beneath Hikari's nose, he felt no breath.

"I can't feel her breathing."

As Keina touched Hikari's wrist, her face turned white. "How... why..."

"I don't know. We need to get to the hospital."

She swiftly grabbed her coat and purse, bundling Hikari tightly in a thick blanket before rushing to the garage. Outside, the storm still raged with relentless fury. The wind howled like an enraged giant, and snowflakes the size of quail eggs cascaded from the sky. They climbed into the car, and he pressed down hard on the accelerator, determined to navigate through the treacherous snow.

The car slid precariously, like an amateur ice hockey player on a slippery, aimless path. Despite all the lights illuminating the car, visibility was minimal, so he had to rely solely on memory to guide them to the hospital. Keina affixed four heating plasters onto Hikari's clothes in an attempt to keep the toddler warm, all the while calling out to her daughter, who remained unresponsive. With every press of the gas pedal, he silently prayed for Hikari's well-being.

As their car descended a small hill toward the city center, the darkness outside was almost impenetrable, with no sign of house lights in sight. The snowdrifts grew taller with each passing moment. Struggling to maintain focus, he drove cautiously.

"Watch out!" Keina suddenly shrieked.

A deer suddenly jumped out of nowhere, darting across the road directly in front of their car. He swerved sharply and slammed on the brakes, while Keina instinctively lowered her head to shield Hikari. The car skidded briefly on the icy road—Keina's hair whipped wildly, his hat flew off, and Hikari's blanket was torn away. For a heart-stopping moment, it felt as though they were hurtling toward disaster, until the car finally jolted to a halt as its rear collided with the road guardrail.

Only then could he draw a shaky breath. "Are you both alright?"

Keina nodded, her eyes wide with shock.

He attempted to restart the stalled engine, but it only emitted a feeble hum, refusing to budge. Trying once more, this time with a gentler touch, the engine sputtered to life briefly before falling silent again.

"Tora!" Keina's voice trembled as she çhecked her daugher. "Hikari... she's... she..."

Hikari lay still, her eyes open but unresponsive, her breaths shallow and erratic. Her lips were as pale as paper.

"Give her to me," he extended both hands to his wife. "We're already in downtown. The hospital is just one kilometer away. I'm gonna take Hikari. You wait here."

"Are you out of your mind?" Keina's voice trembled with fear. "It's a blizzard out there! You could both freeze to death!"

"You think I can just sit here and watch our daughter suffer?"

Keina broke into painful sobs. She hesitated for a moment before reluctantly handing Hikari into his husband's arms. Quickly, she tucked some hand warmers into his jacket pocket and wrapped the blanket securely around his back. Then, she retrieved a flashlight from the glove compartment.

"I'm coming with you," Keina insisted, her voice determined.

"No, you need to stay here," he replied, but Keina shook her head adamantly.

The three of them stepped out of the car into the world turned entirely white, resembling the alien plains from a science fiction movie. Instantly, he shuddered from the biting cold; his jacket, hastily grabbed in the rush, offered little protection. Clutching his daughter tightly, he forged ahead, with Keina scrambling close behind.

The wind felt like razor cuts against his face, and within moments, his fingers grew numb. His legs felt like they were lead, each step an agonizing effort, while the bone-chilling air seemed poised to shatter his bones. Despite being accustomed to the biting cold of the ice rink, tonight's chill was exponentially more intense.

"Tora!" Keina's voice sounded distant as she called out from behind. "TORA!"

He glanced back, only to find that, mere minutes after leaving the car, his wife was already obscured by the swirling snow. Only the faint glow of his flashlight pierced through the storm.

He couldn't afford to hesitate. He had to save his daughter.

...

When he finally reached the hospital, Hikari had turned blue. Despite his desperate protests and thrashing, the doctors separated him from the child. They restrained him to a bed in a separate room as he fought against their efforts, his own body succumbing to hypothermia. Meanwhile, Keina collapsed in the middle of the road and had to be rushed to the hospital by ambulance, barely clinging to life herself.

An hour later, a doctor approached him with an apology. Hikari was beyond saving. The medical team could only attribute her sudden and tragic loss of breath to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS)—a syndrome that causes toddlers to abruptly stop breathing. While the doctors suspected a lung malfunction, he couldn't bring himself to delve into the specifics. All he wanted was to find a way to bring his daughter back to life. But there were no answers, no solutions.

At Hikari's funeral, mourners offered cliché words of comfort, suggesting that she was now at peace and emphasizing the safety of him and Keina. Little did they know that, at that moment, he longed to join his daughter in death. He regretted that the hypothermia hadn't claimed his life that night.

He existed like a mere shell of himself, moving through life like a zombie. Nothing, not even the passion of ice hockey, could reignite the spark that Hikari's presence had brought to his life. The light of his world had been extinguished, leaving behind a profound emptiness that only his beloved daughter could have filled, tragically taken from him far too soon.