Inspiration for this fanfic just hit me. I was listening to a song from Gabrielle, Fallen Angel, and then I simply had to write. So this is what came out...

Am, right, I don't own 07 ghost.

Snow… It was said to be pure white. Changing the land into a place of the fairytales, into a wonderland, a world of wonders. Small snowflakes covered everything under a thin layer of white, a layer too thin to be called a blanket. It should be white. But everything seemed so gray. And it was never pure white. It had always been stained with red. Blood red.

Snow... It was said to make the world beautiful. To freeze one in awe the same way it used to do when one looked upon it with child's eyes for the first time. But the place wasn't beautiful. There was no life here, only lingering death and traces of sadness. Even the bare branches of once-blossoming wild cherry trees seemed dead. It could never have been beautiful. It had always been a place of death.

Snow... It was said to symbolise peace. And innocence. That was just pathetic. What was peace anyway? Only absence of war? As if the war was ever absent... Hidden, maybe, but there had always been greed and lure of power corrupting people. It had made worlds collide, soldiers fall, beliefs shatter and hearts tremble. And there had never been innocence in war. Not in that war. Not in any war. There had always been just guilt.

Snow... It was said to bring a smile on one's face. To make hearts lighter and ease the pain. But this was a place of death and a place of memories. And no one could smile with such memories. More likely cry if one would have the tears. Or let them fall. And there was nothing that could ease the pain when memories came alive again and everything seemed so clear like it happened yesterday. They could only bring pain, a long buried pain, and let it flow freely, making it hurt so much than even breathing became hard. There had never been anything to ease that pain.

Snow...It was said to represent silence. But silence... was an even greater lie than peace. Silence was impossible. Even if all the screams died in one's ears and the rattling of weapons became too muffled, the fading sound of a dying heartbeat remained and there was still that barely audible thud when it passed in a whirl of white. And yet there was no silence, not even then, only desperate screams and breaking of a shattered glass and the sound of that broken heart when it tried to comprehend reality. Snow had nothing to do with silence. Not then, not now, not ever. It made sounds caused by life die and it muffled distant footsteps but the whistling of a bitter breeze never ceased to fill the air. Silence had never existed. There had always been something breaking it.

The place was deserted. There were never many people, except at some rear occasions. No one wanted to spend much time here, especially not at such a late hour. It was a graveyard after all. And yet there was a lone figure somewhere in the distance, standing completely still, resembling a marble statue. A man in a military uniform, a lean, dark figure on an almost as dark background. His gaze was fixed upon a certain tombstone, one looking just like all the others, nothing unique and yet so special, while his eyes were hidden in the shadow of the brim of his cap. From the distance he appeared to be his usual stoic self, the infamous Chief of Staff, impassive, merciless, frozen. A closer look too, wouldn't reveal anything, the mask he always wore was still in place, at least to those who knew nothing of him. But to those who knew him – or who had known him – the cracks in that icy facade would be obvious. There had been a person who could read every slightest change in these pale features, every tilt of his head, every twitch of the knotted muscles. But that person had been dead. For ten years.

"Yukikaze..."

Bitter breeze carried the murmured words away, in the distance, somewhere in the night, when he squatted down and his gloved fingertips carefully touched the letters engraved into the cold stone. There was a dull pain in his chest and a lingering question in his mind, the same question as always. He had been thinking it over and over again and when he finally came to the conclusion that he would never get an answer, he started wondering once more. It just seemed, even though they remained unspoken for now, these words would never leave his mind. Would it help, perhaps, to speak them out loud? To give them a tangible form?

He opened his mouth, moving his pale lips just the slightest, but before a single word could come out he was interrupted by another masculine voice.

"Are you racking your brain about that again, Aya-tan?"

The latter didn't reply. He just stood up, silently, not bothering to turn around, forcing his walls to come back up again to hide the cracks in his icy mask. He could feel Hyuuga's gaze fixed upon his back, absolutely sure that if he turned around, he would be greeted with a cocky grin, so typical for his subordinate.

"You shouldn't be out so late," Hyuuga went on like he had completely forgotten the still-not-answered question spoken just a moment earlier.

"This is none of your business," the silver-haired man replied tersely. "Why are you even here?"

"I got worried since you're always working but weren't in the office today. And if I am to protect you..." his voice faded in the night and for some time they were simply standing like that, Ayanami facing the tombstone, Hyuuga staring at his back. A rigid back of a man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. A weight of death. Then the brown-haired major moved, taking a step forward, slowly placing a hand on the other's shoulder, wondering what could he possibly do comfort him, what Ayanami would allow him to do. His boss was always so painfully stubborn.

Maybe they would just stand there once again if Hyuuga hadn't felt him shiver slightly under his touch. But he did and time didn't come to a standstill once more and they didn't remain frozen in an unmoving pose and the silence was broken:

"How long have you been standing here?" Hyuuga asked, concern filling his words. "You're freezing, it would be better if we returned back inside."

"I'm fine," Ayanami replied, his voice as cold as the snow glistering in the dark, yet surprisingly lost.

"No," the Major shook his head and wrapped his arms around the icy silver-haired man in an instant, pulling him into a tight embrace, and leaned his chin on the other's shoulder. "No, you're not fine. You're killing yourself because you're too damn proud, you pretend to be strong when in reality you're falling apart, and you're still suffering because of Yukikaze's death. That is not what people call fine."

It seemed the words had little effect on the Chief of Staff for he spoke just as calmly and cold as always: "I don't care about people. They don't matter."

"I say so too. And you do care about me, right? At least a little?"

This time silence wrapped in darkness and bitter breeze was the only answer. Seconds seemed like millennia and then at some point Hyuuga realised he wanted a reply. He needed a reply, this time silence didn't tell him anything. Nothing told him anything. And suddenly fear was suffocating him while he could almost hear his own heartbeat echo in his ears.

"Aya-tan? Am I... Do I matter? A little...?" He squeezed him even stronger.

"No. Not a little..."

Hyuuga's eyes widened as a dull, killing pain filled his chest. He devoted his life to this man and Ayanami... Ayanami didn't even care. An odd stinging feeling appeared in his eyes and he was just about to say something but couldn't get the words out. Ayanami was faster.

"...you matter a lot."

It was Hyuuga's mouth that stayed opened this time. Fear and pain were forgotten in a blink of an eye, substituted with pure happiness and comforting warmth spreading all over his body.

"Aya-tan..." he smiled, and it was a genuine smile not that cocky grin that was so typical for him. It was a smile of happiness. "If I matter... Will you let me help you? I know you miss Yukikaze, I know I'll never be able to replace him - not that I'm trying to - but if you can't let him go and realise that time goes on... Well, I can't do that for you either. I just want you to know I'm here for you. I'll always be, you can count on me."

Ayanami listened silently.

"I want to help you," Hyuuga went on, "but you gotta let me. I can't be close to you if you keep pushing me away. If you want me to stand aside, wait somewhere in the background, I'll do that. Although I'm quite sure it wouldn't be the best for you. But you have to know better. I...I... If you want to cling onto Yukikaze... Or remain in complete solitude... You have to decide for yourself. After all you are familiar with past..."

"Maybe too much," Ayanami replied. It was almost completely impossible to read anything from his voice yet a small smile crossed Hyuuga's lips. His Aya-tan had let the walls crack. A little. But it was a start. Perhaps he would be able to break them down in the future.

"Come," the Major straightened back up, "let's get inside before you freeze."

"Little cold won't kill me," his superior grumbled but still turned around and started to make his way between the tombstones, knowing perfectly well that Hyuuga will follow his footsteps, left in the fluffy white snow. Just before their silhouettes disappeared somewhere in the dark he threw a look across his shoulder to catch one last glimpse of the deserted city of death.

Snow was said to be pure white. Yet it had always been stained with red. Blood red. But red could also be pure.

Snow was said to make the world beautiful. Yet there had always been places of death, places living beauty could not reach. But a place robbed of all such beauty, frozen in eternity, could also steal a breath full of awe. There had always been something mesmerizing about it.

Snow was said to symbolize peace. And innocence. Yet those two had always been covered with guilt. But even those, who were guilty, could bare innocence somewhere in the depths of their hearts, and where there was innocence, peace could also blossom.

Snow was said to bring a smile on one's face. To make hearts lighter and ease the pain. Yet the memories of death had always been stronger. Too strong. But a heart frozen in pain could also melt if only it got warmth, and a smile could be brought upon one's face if only someone showed them how to smile first.

Snow was said to represent silence. Yet there had always been something breaking it. Countless distant sounds even in the depth of night. But maybe that was how it should be. Maybe silence was deadly and all the faint noises were just saving one's life. Maybe silence should never exist.

Well, that's it, I hope you liked it. To be honest, when I started writing this I had absolutely no idea what the conversation between Hyuuga and Aya-tan was gonna look like, I just knew what I wanted the beginning and the end to be like. It turned out to be nothing specific but I like the result.

Reviews are appreciated but please no flames

XD