Ah, how lovely it was before,
Just us together on a distant shore.
The waves barely dared to stir,
Resting quiet, soft as a whisper.
Chapter 5
Willy stood frozen for a moment, his heart racing in his chest. What had just happened left him speechless, unsure of what to make of it. The kiss, the closeness—it had felt so right, so full of promise. But now, she was running away, disappearing in the snowpath.
He wanted to call after her, to stop her, but something held him back. What had just happened between them was so unexpected, so overwhelming, that he couldn't grasp it all at once. He touched his lips, still tingling from the warmth of her kiss.
He finally realized his pocket watch was telling him it was time to go. Finally he turned toward the door, his hand still on the doorknob. He stared out at the whiteness, the sound of his heartbeat loud in his ears. What had she meant by that?Why do you make it so hard to say goodbye?The question haunted him, pulling him in every direction at once. He wished he had the right words to make her stay, to explain that this wasn't just goodbye, that there was something more between them, something that neither of them could fully understand yet.
The sound of his watch beeped again, reminding him that time was slipping away. He couldn't stay in this moment forever. And as much as he wanted to chase after her, to explain everything, he knew there was something more at play here.Was it really goodbye?
It can't be.
Willy stood at the edge of the snow-covered path, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Lyyli. He couldn't shake the image of her tear-filled eyes, the way she had looked at him before rushing off into the night. The weight of their kiss, the uncertainty of her feelings, and the words she hadn't said—it was all too much to process.
As he neared the dock, he saw Mr. Rikkunen waiting for him in his night robes, his breath visible in the cold air. The old man looked around briefly before catching sight of Willy. His expression softened as he spoke.
"I saw Lyyli running back home," Mr. Rikkunen said, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I guess she's said goodbye to you, then. Well, let's not call it farewell... We may still visit you at your grand opening. I'm eager to see what you've prepared for us, young man." His tone was warm, as though he were trying to lighten the mood.
Willy nodded, though his thoughts were still clouded. He was about to board the boat, but something inside him shifted. He took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak his mind.
"Sir," he began, his voice shaky but firm, "I promise you I'll be there for Lyyli whenever she needs me." Mr Rikkunen opened a big smile but Willy continued: "But I can't take over your business. I can't take something that belongs to her. I simply can't. I'm sorry, but... I can't do it."
Mr. Rikkunen's smile slowly faded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed Willy's words. "Oh…" His voice remained calm, though there was an edge of disappointment. "I see…"
Willy felt a flush of embarrassment spread across his cheeks, but he stood his ground, certain of his decision. The silence stretched between them for a moment before Mr. Rikkunen sighed, his expression softening again.
"Well…" he said, opening his mouth into a gentle smile. "I guess I'll have to figure something else out, then." He turned to look at his worker, the same who brought Willy when he arrived. The man was busy preparing the boat for departure. "Karl will take you to the station in Rovaniemi."
Willy felt a rush of relief at Mr. Rikkunen's understanding. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint the man who had been such an important mentor to him. He felt an aching sadness in his chest, knowing that he was leaving behind more than just a business—he was leaving a piece of his past.
"Have a nice trip, Willy." Mr. Rikkunen said, his voice steady despite the earlier disappointment. "Take care of yourself. We'll see you soon. This is not a goodbye."
Willy smiled softly and extended his gloved hand, shaking Mr. Rikkunen's firmly. "Definitely not, sir."
As he climbed into the boat and it began to sway gently in the water, Willy turned for one last look at the house. His gaze lingered on Lyyli's window. The window was now closed, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. He thought about her beautiful green eyes, the way they had looked at him with such depth, and he wondered if he would ever see them again.
With a heavy heart, Willy faced forward as the boat began its journey, carrying him away from the island and toward the uncertain future that awaited him.
It was another bustling morning at Wonka's Candy Shop, the sweet aroma of chocolate and caramel filled the air on Cherry Street. From his apartments above the store, Willy sat by the window, a steaming cup of hot cocoa in hand, as he watched the line of eager customers already forming down the street. The sun had barely risen, yet the crowd was as lively as ever. He smiled to himself, tipping his top hat back slightly.
"Another sweet success," he mused aloud, taking a sip of his cocoa. Every day felt like a dream—his dream—come to life. The newspapers had dubbed him "The Chocolatier and Magician," and his creations were adored worldwide. From chocolate birds that sang when you bit into them to fizzing gumdrops that floated momentarily before dissolving on your tongue, his shop was the epitome of wonder. He leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of accomplishment. But as his gaze drifted to the bustling street below, his thoughts wandered to another place, another time. His father came to mind first—an enigma he still couldn't quite resolve. Had he heard about Willy's success? Was he proud? Did he even care?
And then, as naturally as breathing, Willy's thoughts turned to Lapland and to her—Lyyli. He hadn't thought of her in a while, but when he did, it felt like reopening an old wound. He could see her emerald-green eyes sparkling under the northern lights, hear her laughter echoing in the snow. He wondered how she was, what she was doing. The last he'd heard from her father, Mr. Rikkunen, she and her band had signed with a major record label and were set to release their first album. That was some weeks ago, and since then, the letters from Mr. Rikkunen had stopped.
"Maybe they're just busy," Willy murmured to himself, trying to push the nagging feeling aside.
The day carried on, Valentine's Day fast approaching. The shop was abuzz with customers clamoring for his latest seasonal creations—heart-shaped chocolate boxes filled with ruby-colored truffles, and his Lovebird Lollipops, which "sang" a sweet tune when licked. Willy hardly had time to breathe as he directed his team and oversaw the constant demand for his candies. The success was exhilarating, but as the hours dragged on, he felt a tinge of exhaustion creeping in.
As the shop neared closing time, Willy was overseeing the last of the day's sales when one of his employees approached him.
"Mr. Wonka," the man began nervously, "there's someone here to see you."
Willy sighed, assuming it was yet another journalist or eager fan. "Tell them to make an appointment—preferably by letter, at least three months in advance," he said with a mischievous grin.
The employee hesitated. "It's not a group, sir. It's a... young lady. She's waiting in your office."
Willy froze, his amusement replaced by suspicion. "In my office?" he repeated, already heading toward the door. He muttered to himself, "Who has the nerve to barge in like this?"
He flung open the office door, irritation written across his face. He opened the door ready to say many things to the journalist or whoever it was, but the words caught in his throat. Standing with her back to him was a woman with long black hair, streaked with platinum blonde at the nape of her neck, dressed in black leather pants and a simple black shirt, elevated by its sheer, transparent sleeves that added an ethereal touch to the otherwise edgy ensemble. She turned, and his breath caught.
For a moment, Willy simply stared, his mind struggling to reconcile the Lyyli he remembered with the woman before him. Her emerald eyes sparkled just as they had in Lapland, but her appearance had changed. She wore dark makeup, emphasizing her striking features. Rings and bracelets adorned her hands, and a hoop piercing glinted in her nose. She looked different—mature, confident—but unmistakably her.
"Lyyli," he whispered, her name barely audible.
Without hesitation, she moved toward him, wrapping him in a warm embrace. The scent of her perfume—a familiar, cherished memory—washed over him, and suddenly, it felt like no time had passed at all.
She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her smile widening. "Hi, Willy."
"You're here" he murmured, his voice thick with disbelief. "I... I can't believe it."
Lyyli took a few steps back and began to slowly circle the room, her movements confident, her emerald eyes glimmering with curiosity. Willy followed her with his gaze as he closed the door behind him. "So, Willy," she began with a teasing smile, glancing at him sideways, "tell me about your life. Is it everything you imagined it would be?"
Willy leaned back, allowing himself to relax under her probing stare. "Uh... yeah, it's been... incredible," he said thoughtfully. "A lot of hard work but definitely rewarding." A short silence. "How about you? Your father said things are going well for you too."
Lyyli came to a stop by the fireplace, resting her hand on the mantel as she turned to face him. "Well, we signed with a record label in Finland, our first album is doing really well, and we're about to head out on tour soon. Which reminds me..." She reached into her purse and pulled out a vinyl record, holding it up for him to see. The cover depicted a breathtaking blue night sky, painted with northern lights in watercolor hues. At the top right corner, the wordStargazerswas written in elegant script. "This is for you," she said, extending the album toward him.
Willy hesitated for a moment, then walked over and took the vinyl with one gloved hand. He studied the front and back covers, the names of the songs catching his attention. Each title seemed like a portal into some fantastical world, drawing him in with a mix of wonder and mystery. The colors, the design—everything about it felt like an invitation to a dreamscape. "Stargazers?" he asked, intrigued.
Willy's eyes shifted down to her hand, where the ring he had given her—a delicate piece with a small gemstone that shimmered like the northern lights—still rested on her finger. He noticed it right away, the subtle reminder of the connection they once shared. She looked back up at him then, her gaze intense.
She broke the gaze, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of his desk as she leaned against it, her eyes dropping to her feet.
"Well, you see… since I started singing for the band," she continued, her tone steady but layered with significance, "everything seemed to fall into place. The lyrics, the style, the themes... it all just clicked." A faint smile played on her lips, a blend of pride and enigma. Her eyes met his with a quiet intensity, as if daring him to grasp the depths of her meaning.
Willy couldn't help but be captivated, not just by the success she'd found but by the way she carried herself now—confident, poised, yet still with that same spark of wonder in her eyes.
"It sounds amazing," Willy said with a genuine smile, his excitement growing. "I can't wait to listen to it!" Then, suddenly, something clicked in his mind. "Wait, how long are you staying in town?"
Lyyli gave him a small shrug. "I leave the day after tomorrow, in the evening," she replied. "It's been hectic, but... I couldn't go on tour without dropping by to see you. So I slipped past Tero's watchful eye and hopped on the first flight. I'm staying at the hotel just down the street."
"So soon?" Willy's heart sank a little. He knew how busy she must have been, and the bright future that was waiting for her. It seemed like she was on the fast track to stardom. He couldn't help but feel a rush of pride for her. "I'm really looking forward to hearing your music."
A brief silence hung in the air before he added, "Hey… how's your father? I haven't heard from him in a while."
At the mention of her father, Lyyli looked away, a flicker of something in her eyes. She quickly changed the subject. "He's fine. Busy too. And he says hi to you," she said, a bit too quickly. "But, speaking of things, aren't you going to show me your candy shop? I was hoping to get a private tour from Willy Wonka himself." Her smile was playful, a gleam in her eye.
Willy chuckled at the challenge. "And you will, miss," he said, his voice light and teasing. "You're a VIP here in my shop." He carefully slid the vinyl into one of the drawers of his desk, keeping it safe before turning back to her with a grin. "Come on... Let's boogie!"
He gestured toward the door, and with that, they both left the office.
The candy shop, though not as grand as it deserved to be, was alive with a certain magic that no other store could offer. It was a place where dreams and sweetness intertwined in every corner. Willy had sent his employees home earlier, determined to savor this moment with Lyyli undisturbed. As he led her around, he spoke with the enthusiasm of a proud inventor, his gloved hands animated as he explained the wonders of his creations. Lyyli followed closely behind, her eyes wide with fascination, her excitement infectious.
"This is incredible!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with awe as she marveled at the candy-coated wonders that filled the shelves. "This is beyond anyone's imagination, how do you do it?"
Willy grinned, his own excitement never wavering. "Invention, my dear," he began, his voice filled with the joy of sharing his craft, "is 93% perspiration, 6% electricity, 4% evaporation, and 2% butterscotch ripple."
Willy had just finished showing Lyyli one of his latest creations:Fizzing Chocolate Orbs, small candies that popped and fizzed as they melted in your mouth, releasing bursts of flavored gas that could make you feel like you were floating in the air for a few seconds. The candy was encased in a hard, translucent shell that shimmered with rainbow colors. He watched with pride as Lyyli's eyes widened in amazement.
"This is amazing, Willy. I knew you would do it," she said with a smile, but he noticed a certain sadness in her eyes. "I wish my father was here to see it. He'd be very proud of you, you know." Her voice faltered slightly at the end, and Willy couldn't help but sense that there was more behind her words than she let on.
"Anyway, I should be back to the hotel, it's late," she said softly, her smile lingering but her eyes still distant.
Willy didn't want to see her leave just yet. He had a thought. "Hey, I have an idea," he said, walking beside her as she turned toward the door. "Tomorrow is Saturday, day-off. I'll drop by in the morning and we can spend the day together. There's something I've been planning for a while and I want you to be the first one to see."
Her eyes brightened a bit, and she nodded. "Sounds like a plan. I'll look forward to it."
They walked out of the store together, the cool night air brushing against their faces as they made their way down the street. When they reached the hotel, she turned to face him with a smile.
Willy blushed slightly, and said "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too," she replied softly. "See you tomorrow, Willy. Good night."
He watched her enter the hotel. For a moment, he stood there, taking in the beauty of the woman she had become. He had been so focused on his work, but seeing her again reminded him of something he had long forgotten — the joy of having her close. With one last look at the glass doors of the hotel, he turned and walked back to his apartment, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Willy entered the shop with the same familiar steps, feeling the comforting weight of his responsibilities even as he returned to his sanctuary. He walked directly to his office, his mind still alive with the memory of Lyyli's smile and their parting words. There, on his desk, was the vinyl she had given him—the same one she had carried with such pride. He couldn't wait to hear it.
Willy locked the door behind him, undid his coat, and removed his top hat, setting them both aside with deliberate care. Then, without hesitation, he opened the album's cover and took the vinyl from its sleeve, holding it gently between his gloved fingers. The cover artwork was beautiful, an ethereal painting of the northern lights, a perfect reflection of the magic inside.
He opened the album chart, flipping through the pages filled with lyrics, but he quickly skipped them, not wanting any spoilers. At the very end, there was the acknowledgment section from the band, accompanied by a photo of the group in the center.
Jukka, the drummer, stood first. He had a rugged, yet composed look with short, dark hair and a serious expression. His intense gaze was framed by a hint of scruff along his jawline, giving him a mature, almost enigmatic air. His posture was confident, radiating a sense of quiet strength, with his drumsticks casually held at his side, as if ready for the next performance.
Next to him was Tuomas, the keyboard player. Tuomas had a soft, thoughtful expression with slightly longer, dark brown hair that cascaded to just above his shoulders. His sharp, well-defined features carried an air of mystery, and he wore a black shirt that matched his understated yet elegant style. His deep, reflective eyes suggested a mind constantly in motion, full of creative thoughts and dreams.
Beside him stood Matti, the tall, imposing figure with a mustache and a long, flowing beard. Matti had an air of wisdom and experience, with a knowing grin that seemed to say he had seen and heard it all.
Next there was Kimi, the guitar player who looked like an elf. His short, platinum blond hair and sharp, angular features gave him a slightly otherworldly appearance. His eyes were bright, almost mischievous, with a twinkle that suggested an affinity for both music and adventure.
And in the middle-front there she was, Lyyli, her presence commanding yet graceful. She had this striking beauty and powerful aura, with her long, dark hair flowing effortlessly around her shoulders. Her outfit, simple yet bold, exuded strength and elegance. Her eyes sparkled with a quiet confidence, and her smile hinted at a mystery that only deepened when she looked at those around her.
He turned the back cover of the album, his fingers brushing over the smooth surface. There, in the corner, was a handwritten dedication in silver pen, the letters glistening faintly under the light.
"Thank you for showing me the way. Without you, this wouldn't have been possible. Love, Lyyli."
He smiled fondly as he read the dedication. The words were simple yet filled with such weight, a personal message that spoke volumes. As he read it, a warmth spread through him, an unspoken bond woven between the letters, a silent acknowledgment of something deeply meaningful, something only they shared.
He placed it on his turntable, set the needle, and settled onto the sofa, his anticipation growing.
As the first track began, Lyyli's voice echoed through the room—soft at first, like the whisper of a breeze through ancient trees. She spoke of a path leading into a world of magic, of elves, witches, and goblins, painting the kind of world Willy himself loved to dream about. The introduction filled him with a sense of wonder, but then the unexpected happened. A flood of powerful guitar chords, pounding drums, and sweeping keyboards tore through the air. It was heavy, bold, symphonic.
Willy blinked in surprise, feeling the energy in the room shift. It was unlike anything he had anticipated, but it captivated him immediately. The melody was strong and vibrant, thrilling his senses and making him lean forward in his seat. And then her voice entered.
It wasn't the soft, hesitant voice he remembered from their time in Finland—it was a full-throated, confident, commanding voice that filled the room. There was control, power, and elegance in every note. Each phrase was an invitation to step deeper into her world. She sang with such force, and yet there were moments when her voice soared into the ethereal, like a clarion call from the heavens.
Willy sat frozen, caught in the magic of her voice and the intensity of the music. The first song ended, leaving him breathless, almost motionless. His mind raced, trying to process the beauty he had just witnessed. And then, the second song began, each track weaving a new spell, each sound richer, more intricate than the last. Sometimes Lyyli's voice was light and haunting, a lullaby drifting through the stars; other times, it was fierce and raw, demanding attention as she delved into more complex vocal styles, layering her tones in a way that showcased not just her classical soprano training, but her versatility as a performer.
The lyrics were as magical as her voice. Willy knew she had written them, but hearing them now, through this medium, he realized how deep and thoughtful they were. They painted stories that ranged from the mystical to the deeply personal, and his heart swelled with pride, knowing that the same girl who once laughed with him under the Lapland stars had created this masterpiece.
By the time the last song played, Willy was speechless. His emotions swirled within him—pride, admiration, awe, even a trace of longing. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. The hair on his arms stood on end as he replayed the final notes in his head.
He stood up, his hands trembling slightly, and poured himself a glass of port, needing something to calm his racing thoughts. He returned to the sofa, carefully set the vinyl to repeat, and sank back into the cushions, letting the album play over and over again. With each listening, he noticed new nuances, new emotions woven into the fabric of the music. He allowed himself to be carried away by the rhythms, the melodies, and the raw, beautiful power of her voice.
The morning sun was gently spilling over the streets of the city when Lyyli awoke, her mind full of conflicting emotions. She had to face Willy today, and there was something heavy in her heart that she knew she couldn't avoid any longer. She had put it off long enough, but today was the day. As she got dressed, the weight of the conversation she needed to have made it hard for her to focus on anything else. But still, she went through her morning routine—getting dressed in a dark, sleek outfit that matched the mood of the day, having a simple breakfast, and gathering her thoughts.
She had already known for a while that she would be leaving soon, but the thought of saying goodbye to Willy again, after all this time, felt harder than she had anticipated. She was returning to Finland to focus on her career, the tour ahead, and her band's next steps, but a part of her wished she didn't have to leave him behind.
By the time she stepped out of the hotel, the air was crisp, and there, waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, was Willy, just as she had expected. He stood there in his signature maroon velvet coat, top hat perched on his head, looking at her with such admiration that for a moment, it stole her breath. His gaze was intense, a mix of pride and something else that lingered between them—a connection that had never really faded, even with the distance of time.
"Well, hello, Mr. Wonka" Lyyli greeted him with a smile that reached her eyes, despite the apprehension bubbling beneath the surface.
"Hello to you too, Miss Rikkunen" Willy replied, his voice soft but carrying a tone that said he had been waiting for this moment. He held out his arm, offering it to her, and she took it, stepping out into the day.
Willy led her out of the hotel and toward the street, where a sleek, black limousine with his signature W's displayed on the side was waiting. Lyyli raised an eyebrow in surprise at the sight.
"A limousine? Wow," she remarked, her tone a mix of humor and awe.
"Of course," Willy replied, his grin playful. "You're my VIP guest, remember?"
She chuckled and climbed into the car beside him. As they drove away from the hotel, Willy glanced at her, his expression tinged with nervous excitement.
"So, I listened to it, and I have to tell you," he began, his voice filled with admiration. "That's beyond anything I expected. From the very first track, oh boy! I don't even know if I can describe what it felt like. Your voice—it's… it's otherworldly. The control you have over it, the power, the softness… It's like you can make the very air around you shift, depending on the song. One moment you're singing like softly, and the next you're pouring all this fire and passion into it." His eyes sparkled as he spoke, unable to contain the excitement that bubbled up inside him.
"Well, I wrote what I felt, shared it with the band, and we talked it through. Everyone seemed to agree, and the guys liked it. We made a few tweaks, but that's pretty much it. Now, Willy, don't hold back," she said, narrowing her eyes. "There's got to be something you weren't so sure about."
"I mean it!" he insisted. "How do you switch so effortlessly between different styles? What do you do to your voice? And what are you guys playing? Is it heavy something, or what is it like? I couldn't quite figure it out."
"It's not really heavy metal... we lean more toward a symphonic style of heavy metal, I guess," Lyyli replied, thoughtful. "We're still figuring it out. We just let the music lead us."
Willy's eyes widened with even more awe. "Wow, so you've been creating a whole new genre? That's absolutely incredible!"
Lyyli's smile grew wider, a warmth blooming in her chest. Hearing Willy's enthusiastic praise felt like a dream come true, the culmination of years of hard work finally coming to fruition. She watched him closely as his excitement grew.
"And your lyrics..." he continued, his voice full of admiration. "I had no idea how much of a poetess you were. I mean, I always knew you had a way with words, but this—this is something else. The depth, the imagery... it's like you've built entire worlds within each song. The way you mix wonder and mysticism with raw, powerful emotion—it's... it's mesmerizing. Oh, and by the way, the references to Tolkien? Absolutely loved that."
Lyyli chuckled softly, her heart swelling with pride. "Oh, I knew you'd catch that," she replied with a knowing smile.
Willy's grin widened. "And you know what? It's like tasting aWhimsycrisp Delightfor the first time." he said, his eyes gleaming as he spoke. "You take a bite, and it's like the world shifts around you. The outer shell is delicate, almost fragile, but once you break through, the inside explodes with flavors you didn't even know could exist. It's bold, yet comforting. It's not just a candy—it's an experience. It's something that fills you in ways you can't quite explain but deeply feel. That's what your music is like. It's more than just sound—it's something that connects to you on a level beyond words."
Lyyli's eyes widened in amazement at his vivid description, her heart fluttering. "Wow... we should've called you to write a review for our album," she said, grinning. "And I think I need to try that candy."
Willy laughed, a playful twinkle in his eye. "I'll make sure you do. It's one of my favorites. You won't regret it, I promise." He glanced out the window as the car slowed to a stop. "Ah, we're here!"
He opened the door for Lyyli, helping her out of the car. As they stepped onto the pavement, they both gazed up at a wide, open space, just beyond the town's edge. The ground was covered with a patch of grass, a few scattered concrete patches, and the horizon stretched out, offering an incredible view of the entire town below. It felt as if they were standing on top of the world, the power and potential of it all in the air.
Lyyli turned to Willy, eyes filled with wonder. "Is this... what I think it is?"
Willy grinned proudly, practically bouncing on his heels. "Yep! This, my dear friend, is where Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory is going to be!" he said, a sparkle in his eyes. "I don't even know how many rooms it will have yet, but it's going to be massive. Every time I think of a new candy idea, there'll be a new room for it. Isn't that just...fantastic?"
Lyyli's jaw dropped as she processed the enormity of what he was saying. Her eyes widened, and she took a step back in shock. "Willy... do you have... any idea... This will be the largest chocolate factory... in history!"
Willy laughed, his grin growing even wider. "I know!" he said, his bright white teeth flashing in the sunlight. "It's going to behuge, and I can't wait to fill it with all sorts of creations!"
Willy was buzzing with excitement as he spoke, a bright smile on his face. "Oh, boy... I can't wait for the opening! You and your father, you both must be at the front row. You'll be the first ones to see it—"
But as he turned to look at Lyyli, he faltered. Her face was pale, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She turned her face away, a subtle tremble in her shoulders. She entered the car again without saying a word.
Willy paused, his heart sinking. "Lyyli?" he asked softly, feeling the weight of the sudden shift in the air.
He gave the driver a subtle gesture to continue around town, his mind racing with questions. He sat beside Lyyli in silence for a moment, unsure of what had happened or how to approach it. She had always been so full of life, so lively—this was not the woman who had just filled his ears with the magic of her music.
"Lyyli..." Willy hesitated, his voice almost a whisper. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, unsure if that was the right thing to do. "Are you... ok?" His voice was thick with concern.
Lyyli didn't look at him, her hands trembling as they covered her face. Her shoulders shook with the quiet sobs she could no longer hold back. Willy's chest tightened, feeling a deep ache in his own heart seeing her like this. "What happened?" he asked, his voice barely audible, desperate for some answer.
There was a long silence before Lyyli spoke, her voice raw, barely more than a whisper. "My father… he's dead."
Willy's breath caught in his throat. His mind struggled to comprehend the words. Mr. Rikkunen... dead? He felt like the world had momentarily frozen. He couldn't—he refused to believe it. This couldn't be true.
But as the weight of it settled, it hit him harder than any candy invention ever had. Mr. Rikkunen had been like a father to Willy. He had been the one to mentor him, to teach him everything he knew before he became the Willy Wonka the world now adored. His absence felt like a personal loss, like a part of his foundation had just crumbled.
"Lyyli... is it true?" Willy asked, his voice shaking with disbelief. He was still struggling to find the right words, still processing the depth of what she had just told him.
Lyyli slowly lifted her head, her face hollow, eyes dark with grief. She turned to look out the window for a moment before her gaze fell to her lap. "Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It happened so suddenly. He started feeling sick, just... out of nowhere. The doctor said he had this silent illness and no one knew. He went to bed one day, and before we could even get him to the hospital, he was too weak. And then, one day, he... he just fell asleep and never woke up. "
The sadness in her voice, the depth of the pain she was carrying—it tore at Willy's heart. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to fix this, but he knew he had to do something.
Despite his lack of social skills, Willy pulled her gently towards him, wrapping his arms around her. She collapsed into his embrace, her sobs quiet but heavy. He buried his face in her hair. He didn't have the answers, he didn't know what to say, but he could at least be here, holding her. And for a long while, they sat like that, letting the sorrow of the moment settle between them. In that silence, surrounded by grief, Willy felt the loss of someone who had been more to him than just a mentor. Mr. Rikkunen had shaped him in ways he would never fully understand.
Willy's voice was gentle, but firm with care as he spoke, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. "I got you," he repeated softly. "You're not alone."
Lyyli nodded, though she didn't speak, her tears slowly subsiding as she clung to the steady presence of Willy by her side. The car ride back was quiet, save for the faint hum of the engine, as the weight of what she had just shared settled in both of them. Neither of them had the right words, but sometimes, silence was all that was needed to comfort.
When the car stopped in front of the hotel, Willy stepped out first, then extended a hand to Lyyli, supporting her. He walked her to her room, never letting go of her, as if making sure that the world didn't collapse around her.
Once inside, Willy gently helped her onto the bed. He moved around the room with purpose, filling a glass with water and placing it in her hands. But he didn't stop there. He pulled something from his candy cane—something small, wrapped in fine paper, glowing with a subtle shimmer. He handed it to her with the glass.
"Here, take this."
Lyyli glanced at the candy in his hand, her gaze distant, almost lost. She shook her head softly. "Thank you, Willy, but... I don't feel like eating candy right now."
Willy sat down beside her, his expression unwavering. He placed the candy carefully in her palm. "This isn't just candy," he said, his tone low and sincere. "I've been working on this piece for a while. It's... a candy-medicine, if you will." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "You know, chocolate has properties that help release endorphins and other chemicals that play with your senses. It lifts you up, makes you feel good. But this... this one is different. I made it for moments like this. It's designed to help ease feelings like these you're having right now."
Lyyli's eyes lifted to his, a flicker of curiosity mixed with caution. She had seen Willy create wonders, but something about this felt different—more personal. Still, she hesitated, her grief too heavy to be easily erased.
"Trust me" Willy continued, almost as if he was reassuring himself. "I do know it can help, if even just for a moment." He smiled softly, the same gentle, kind smile she had always known. "Maybe it'll remind you that even in the darkest times, there's always a little sweetness left in the world."
Lyyli looked down at the candy, its gleaming surface reflecting a soft light. It was small, unassuming, yet in that moment, it felt like the first step toward finding some peace amidst the pain. With a small sigh, she finally took it from his hand and unwrapped it slowly.
"Alright," she whispered, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I'll try."
And with that, she took a bite.
The sensation was immediate. The taste was rich, smooth, and soothing, but it wasn't just the flavor—it was like something inside her stirred, a warmth spreading through her as if the candy had unlocked a small, hidden well of comfort. The sorrow was still there, but for the first time in hours, it felt just a little more manageable.
Willy watched her, his heart in his eyes, relieved to see her take that first step toward healing, even if just a small one.
"How does it feel?" he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper.
Lyyli swallowed, then exhaled slowly. She looked at him, a glimmer of the old spark returning to her eyes. "Better," she said, her voice steadier. "You're amazing. Thank you."
Willy smiled, more genuine than he had in days, feeling a small weight lift off his chest. "Anytime," he replied, his voice warm.
"You know..." she continued after finishing the candy, turning toward him. "There's something else I need to talk to you about."
Willy's gaze shifted to her face. It was serious, but serene, as though she was preparing to unveil something that had weighed on her for some time.
"My father told me that before you left, he asked you if you could take over his business."
The words struck him like a familiar echo. He remembered that last day in Lapland—the cold, the final moments of their conversation. Had she been upset with him, or perhaps with her father, for bringing up such a topic?
"Yeah..." Willy began, his voice hesitant as he searched for the right words, afraid of how she might interpret his response. "But I refused. I could never take something that was yours."
For a moment, there was silence. Lyyli's expression softened, and she smiled at him—a serene smile, one that spoke of understanding and something deeper.
"I think my father liked you so much not because you had much in common..." she said, her voice calm but laced with warmth, "but because he saw right away how honest and truthful you are."
Her words lingered in the air between them, gentle yet profound. Willy felt something shift inside him, a quiet relief.
"But these are rare traits to find in people," she continued, her voice steady but carrying the weight of something more. "I understand why my father wouldn't let anyone else take responsibility for his legacy. Only you understand the affection he had for that factory, how much it meant to him, and how sad it would be to see it close. You know how much the salmiakkis would be missed there."
She paused for a moment, her gaze softening as she met his eyes.
"And that's why..." She took a breath, as if gathering the courage to speak the words she had carried for so long. "I've come to repeat the offer my father made to you."
Willy felt a sudden shift in the air, the weight of her words settling on him. His heart raced, but there was also a quiet understanding in her eyes. She wasn't just speaking of business; she was speaking of something deeper—of trust, of legacy, and of a future that might still be intertwined with the past.
He looked away. "Lyyli... I can't. It's your legacy, it's your story, and I don't want any profit from it."
"I don't care about money and I know you don't either." She interrupted him. "I just don't want his legacy to die, and the only person in this world who could carry on and honor my father is you." Her eyes pleaded with him, a look that was hard to deny any request. "Do this for me. Please."
Willy looked away again, his thoughts churning in silence as he remained quiet for a full minute.
"Well..." he began slowly, his voice thoughtful. "I think we could fit the salmiakkis into the production... and export them to the north." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "On one condition."
He turned to her, meeting her intense green eyes that seemed to search him for answers.
"We'll donate all the profits to charity."
Lyyli's face lit up, her smile radiant with happiness and pride. "I think that's excellent," she said, her voice brimming with warmth. "How about for underprivileged children, who dream of a better life?"
"Hey, what a brilliant idea!" Willy exclaimed, his excitement bubbling over as he turned to her with a wide smile. "Yeah, agreed! It's a deal! Or better yet... a promise."
He extended his little finger toward her, his grin playful yet sincere. "Let's make a pinky promise. It's the truest and most powerful there is."
Lyyli chuckled softly and reached out, linking her little finger with his. "Done," she said, sealing the promise with a touch of solemnity before her smile returned—bright and genuine.
Boy, what a nice smile to see,he thought, his heart swelling. For a fleeting moment, the memory of their first kiss in Lapland rushed back to him, and the overwhelming urge to embrace her and kiss her once more filled his chest. But for now, he held onto the warmth of the moment, the promise they had just made shimmering between them like a silent bond.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Lyyli got up and opened it, finding a hotel employee holding a letter. She thanked him, took the envelope, and returned to sit on the bed, carefully unfolding the message.
"It's a telegram from Tero," she said after scanning the text. "My flight was moved up tomorrow morning... Wait, that's odd. I'll have to leave earlier." Her voice carried a tinge of confusion and disappointment as she lowered the paper.
Willy's expression shifted, mirroring her unease. He hesitated for a moment, then stood up reluctantly. "Well... I'd better get going then," he said, his voice soft but tinged with regret. He turned to her with a determined look. "I'll come pick you up early tomorrow morning so we can go to the airport together."
She managed a small smile and nodded, appreciating his gesture even as the weight of their impending goodbye settled heavily between them. Willy gave her a final glance before stepping out, the quiet click of the door echoing in the room. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the ache of their time together slipping away too quickly.
The next morning, Lyyli awoke before dawn, the soft gray light of early morning barely illuminating the room. She moved through her routine quickly, but her thoughts were scattered, replaying fragments of their conversations and the fleeting moments they'd shared after so long apart.
Dressed and ready, she perched by the window, her suitcase neatly placed by her side. The streets outside were still, the world not yet stirring, mirroring the quiet anticipation in her heart. She glanced at the clock, her fingers nervously brushing against the armrest of the chair as she waited for Willy.
The mixture of excitement and sadness churned within her, making the wait feel eternal. She sighed softly, her gaze drifting back to the empty street.
"When will we see each other again?" she wondered, the question settling in her chest like a bittersweet ache. As the first rays of sunlight spilled over the horizon, she felt the heaviness of uncertainty, yet clung to the hope that their paths would cross again.
As he had promised, Willy was waiting for her at the hotel door, his black limousine gleaming under the soft morning light. He opened the door for her with a warm smile, and as soon as she settled into the plush interior, he gestured to the small spread he had prepared.
"Here," he said, handing her a steaming cup of hot chocolate from the car's mini bar. "At least you'll have a decent breakfast before boarding. What they offer on those planes… ew! It's horrible."
Lyyli chuckled, taking the cup gratefully. "Oh, I love that you understand me as if you read my mind." She smiled, the warmth of the chocolate spreading through her hands before she took a sip.
The drive was long, as the part of the city where the future factory was located was far from the bustling capital and its airport. But that only gave them more time together, the conversation flowing easily between them.
"Can you believe," Lyyli began with a mischievous grin, "that Kimi had to jump into a practically frozen lake, in the middle of winter, to save Jukka? He ran out of the sauna, completely drunk, and threw himself into the lake."
She recounted the chaos of last Christmas, laughing as she described the antics of the boys from her band, who were more like family to her. They took care of her as though she were their little sister—when they weren't too drunk to stand, of course.
Willy burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Well... I'm glad he turned out okay in the end or you'd have had to hold a new audition for the band's drummer."
Lyyli laughed along with him, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm glad that didn't happen. I wouldn't have found anyone as talented—yet drunk—as Jukka."
They both laughed at that, their shared humor easing the heaviness of her impending departure. The limousine turned another corner and pulled into the airport parking lot. They had arrived. Willy stepped out first, glancing back at her as she followed. He instructed the driver to wait before walking her toward the boarding gate.
"Well... that's it," he said, his hands fidgeting slightly, unsure of how to say goodbye.
"Thank you... again. For everything," Lyyli replied, her voice soft, her own uncertainty mirrored in her expression.
A final boarding announcement echoed through the terminal, making the moment feel even more urgent. They stood facing each other, a quiet tension hanging in the air. Finally, Lyyli stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. Willy embraced her in return, holding her tightly as if trying to imprint the memory of her touch, her warmth, and the scent of her hair into his mind.
As they hugged, he felt her slip something into his coat pocket—a piece of paper, folded carefully.
"Promise you'll write to me," she whispered.
"I promise," he said, his curiosity about the note quickly overtaken by the bittersweet reality of the moment.
They separated slowly, their eyes meeting for one last, lingering exchange. Lyyli picked up her suitcase, gave him a small smile, and began walking toward the gate.
For a moment, Willy stood frozen, watching her leave. But something inside him stirred—a sudden, undeniable pull. Before he fully realized it, he was moving, walking quickly after her, his heart pounding with every step.
"Lyyli!" he called softly, reaching her just before she passed through the gate.
She turned, startled, as his hand gently caught her arm. And in that moment, without hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.
It was tender yet filled with the urgency of all the unspoken words and unshed emotions between them. For a second, the bustling terminal around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them in that moment—a memory neither would forget.
At first, Lyyli was caught off guard by the kiss, her body stiffening in surprise. But then, slowly, she allowed herself to relax, to surrender to the moment she hadn't realized she had longed for so deeply. The kiss was familiar yet electric, reigniting emotions she had buried.
Then, like a jolt, a voice echoed in his mind:What are you doing?
Willy pulled back abruptly, his face flushed and his eyes wide with a mix of panic and embarrassment. They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, the weight of the moment heavy between them. Willy's mind raced for something to say, and all he could manage was a shaky, "Have a safe flight."
Before she could respond, he turned and walked away quickly, leaving Lyyli standing there, stunned and speechless. She touched her lips absentmindedly, trying to process what had just happened, the world around her moving as if in slow motion.
Willy reached the waiting limousine, climbed in, and sank into the seat with a heavy sigh. He removed his top hat and rested his hand on his forehead, his thoughts a whirlwind of regret and self-reproach.
"What the... whatwasthat? What were you thinking?" he muttered aloud, shaking his head at himself. He took a deep breath, his chest tightening as the adrenaline slowly faded.
After a few moments of brooding, he leaned back against the seat, his voice barely audible as he said, "Well, there's a huge chance you've ruined this forever. Idiot."
As he slumped into the plush interior, his hand brushed against something in his pocket—the folded piece of paper Lyyli had slipped into his coat. His curiosity piqued, he pulled it out and unfolded it carefully.
The first page held an address in Helsinki, the capital. She must have written it down to let him know where she'd be or receive her letters after touring. It was a practical gesture, but the thought that she wanted him to write to her made his chest tighten.
Beneath the address was another folded sheet. He opened it slowly, and his breath caught as he saw Lyyli's elegant handwriting filling the page. It was a draft of a song—unfinished, raw, but unmistakably hers.
Willy read the lyrics slowly, his eyes tracing each line with growing awe. The words seemed to reach into him, their meaning so raw, so personal, that for a moment, he forgot the world around him. It felt as though the song had been written for him—his own heart laid bare in those carefully crafted lines.
A kite floats over a somber field,
Tethered to a thread, distant and concealed,
A child clutching the wonder of life's first breath,
Awed by the beauty of beginnings, untouched by death.
Ah, how lovely it was before,
Just us together on a distant shore.
The waves barely dared to stir,
Resting quiet, soft as a whisper.
A wave of nostalgia hit him, bittersweet. He remembered the simplicity of their moments together, how everything felt so easy, so right. He could feel the quietness that once enveloped them.
At the river's end, the sun begins to fade,
All that remains of a life well-made.
Rest now, traveler, release your staff,
Let the journey slip from your grasp.
The mermaid's song, the endless cry,
A vision through an old man's eye.
The mermaids you once set free,
Returned your tears, carried back by the sea.
At the river's end, where twilight falls,
All that was is now at rest, recalling it all.
Sleep now, weary soul, lay down your might,
Let your journey fade into the night.
For a brief second, Willy let go of his worries. He held the paper in his hands with the reverence one gives to something fragile, something precious. A soft smile curled at the corners of his lips.
"Maybe…" he whispered to himself, a spark of hope flickering inside, "maybe it's not ruined after all."