My Lover is Like the Snow…
By Moonlit Eyes

I can't stand Creative Writing class. No, wait, that's a lie. I hate Creative Writing. I took the class for an easy A. I ended up with the only teacher in all of Japan that actually makes you think about what you're writing instead of just making it sound pretty enough to be graded.

Or maybe that easy A was just a really bad assumption...

Anyway, the point is I hate that class and the only redeeming thing about it is the latest assignment. We have to compare someone to something else that wouldn't be overly obvious. I think our teacher is calling the assignment "Metaphor Thoughts." I hated this at first too. I kept trying too hard to think of someone that reminded me of something else but all I could come up with was Daisuke and soccer balls, or Hikari and a flashlight. Neither of which had seemed like a good idea. I was almost ready to throw my notebook across the room and refuse to ever write in that class again.

Then I looked out the window…

It was snowing, the first snow that helped signal the end of the first trimester before Christmas, and it was beautiful. The largest flakes I'd ever seen were falling lazily to the ground, taking all the time in the world. Each snow flake was pure wonder in itself and they could each warm you up inside by the sheer miracle of their existence, despite their cold and careless appearance. The very sight of them made me want to drop everything right then just to go outside and allow the thick, frozen clumps to envelope me entirely. It was after a good five minutes of snowy observations that I was hit with an epiphany, the ultimate idea for my assignment, and began writing like there was no tomorrow.

At the end of class I think I gave my teacher the biggest surprise of her life when she saw how much I, Yagami Taichi, had written. I didn't really care to be honest (though it was nice to see the look on her face as she examined all three pages, front to back.) I was still thinking about the first sentence that I had written more carefully than the rest of my scribbled words that followed.

Ishida Yamato is like the snow; as only he can be so cool looking and yet completely warm me up the way the first snowfall does…

I wonder what Yama will think when I tell him just that.

OWARI AND MERRY FRIGGIN' CHRISTMAS!!!