Author's Note: This is actually an older piece of mine - quite a few years old, actually, despite its recent revision.  It's a sweet piece of fluff, set a number of years after Message.

This uses the Yoroiden-Samurai Troopers names.  For those who are unfamiliar with these, Anubis is Cale and Seiji is, well, Sage.

Yoroiden-Samurai Troopers is copyright to Sunrise and Nagoya TV. Only my obsession with it is my own.

@}~,~~ -==- ~~'~{@

Snowfall

          The pane was cold against his fingertips - so cold that it felt as though his hand rested directly in the snow that fell mere fractions of an inch away.  Old-young eyes watched the flakes as they drifted slowly to the ground only to be lost among their seemingly infinite counterparts.  He mourned the loss of each speck of individuality; snow represented so much, things to be revered and things to be feared, and it did not soothe his mind to know that some control of the wayward element had been pushed into his hands.

          Anubis sighed softly, the vapor of his breath condensing briefly on the glass before shrinking away to nothing.  The glass was all that was separating him from the cold outside, the specter that had haunted him throughout his childhood.  He remembered curling between his siblings for warmth and hearing the chattering of the servant's teeth over the growlings of his stomach; his family had been far from wealthy, able to afford only one servant and none of the amenities.  His father had been a samurai, a good one, he'd thought with childish pride, but had been crippled in a tragic accident.  They had been reduced to a genteel poverty, then simply poverty.

          Anubis had always hated winter as a child, hated the snow that soaked through his worn clothes to wet his skin, hated the cold that sapped every hint of warmth from even the largest blaze, hated the starkness of it all.  Winter had been a time to die.  His situation had improved only slightly when he'd attained his own status as a samurai; while he'd been good, circumstances had conspired against him and left him unable to afford little more than a few scraps of armor and an inferior set of swords.  Still, he'd made a name for himself.  Still, he'd been good enough to catch Arago's eye.

          He rubbed his temple as he remembered the offer, the acceptance, the years that had followed.  His thumb traced absently over the scar that split his cheek; it was a souvenir from his years of servitude, a scar won in battle in Arago's name.  Closing his eyes, he let the shame that he had been so easily misled wash over him.

          And now the samurai were gone, a dead class.  He'd lost not only his family but his whole life; he'd become a non-entity, a breed that could not exist in the modern world - that had not existed for over a century.  His eyes clenched as the familiar pain tightened in his chest, the pervasive sense of uselessness.  He was the fifth wheel on a cart that had already been left on the roadside, unneeded and unappreciated.  Returning to the modern world had only been salt in the wound.

          It had been Rajura's idea to visit 'the boys,' as he called them.  'Merely a social call,' he'd said.  Naaza had agreed instantly - Naaza always agreed lately, particularly when it was something his lover proposed - and Anubis had found himself nodding as well; Arago's training still held its tight grip on his mind, even after the years of freedom.

          And it had been years.  In the world of the Troopers, Anubis had seen a quarter of a century.  Twenty-five years that had seemed to last centuries - that had lasted centuries.  He envied the Troopers; while they'd had to don the armor and answer the call to arms, they hadn't been ripped from the world they knew.  They hadn't had to watch their world die around them, unable to stop it.  They hadn't had to adapt to centuries of change.  They hadn't had to live with the knowledge that, by all means, they should be so much dust by now.

          A single tear escaped to wet Anubis's cheek, shining against his pale skin.  So much had been lost, and so little had been gained.  So much was gone forever.

          He startled as the heavy weight of a blanket settled around his shoulders and disrupted his melancholic thoughts, and it was with some effort that he forced himself to relax and draw it around his body.  He nodded his thanks, not turning to look at the new companion whose hands still rested lightly on his shoulders; only one person would touch him so familiarly and yet so coolly, only one person would truly think to care about the man sitting alone in front of the window.

          "There is still some tea hot," came the murmur in his ear, the baritone that added years to its owner.  "The others have retired. Would you like to sit near the fire?"

          Anubis studied the reflection of the blonde who hovered over his shoulder, the image pale in the glass.  The offer sounded sincere enough, and it was cold where he was sitting...  Nodding, he waited for Seiji to move out of the way, then rose stiffly and drew the blanket tighter around his body.  Without looking at the blonde, he paced to the fire and folded himself before it, wincing as the cold joints of his knees popped audibly.

          Another blanket was looped over his lap before he could object, and then the chink of porcelain came to his ears, just before a cup of steaming tea was lifted before him.  He curled his fingers across the proffered mug and inhaled the lovely scent, dimly aware as Seiji knelt across from him, sipping from his own cup.

          "Is everything all right, Anubis?"

          Anubis blinked at the softly-voiced question, then paused a moment to consider various responses.  "Yes," he said at last, "everything is fine."  His gaze slid hastily to his cup so as not to give the lie away; after all, Seiji was probably just being polite.  Seiji let the answer stand and calmly sipped his tea as he studied the older man, lending confirmation to Anubis's belief.

          "I am glad you came."

          Enough time had passed that Seiji's soft statement startled Anubis from a reverie, and the resulting jerk sloshed hot tea over his hands.  Hissing at the mild pain, he hastily set the cup aside and seized a corner of the blanket, patting it over the hot liquid that dotted his skin.  He was startled again by the touch of Seiji's fingers against the back of one hand, pushing aside the blanket to close Anubis's hands between his palms.  Shivering at the cool, yet not unpleasant touch of Seiji's hands, Anubis lowered his eyes and mumbled an apology even as he tried to ignore the skin against his.  When was the last time he had been touched?

          "I'm sorry," came the baritone again, "I didn't mean to startle you.  But I am glad you came, Anubis.  I have thought of you often since you last came to the Ningenkai.  I trust that the Youjakai has been pleasant since you reclaimed it."

          Anubis couldn't help himself - he glanced guiltily at the blonde before him, his eyes shadowed behind the sweep of his lashes.  "It has been," he murmured softly, all too aware of his hands still caught between Seiji's.  "Kayura is far more merciful than Arago, and Rajura and Naaza have more entertaining things to occupy their time, so I am not subject to their annoyances."  He lowered his gaze again, feeling the soft weight of his bangs against his forehead as they dropped to hide his eyes.

          The unexpected touch of fingers brushing against his brow brought his chin up again, and his startled eyes watched Seiji's face as the blonde finished tucking the dark hair behind Anubis's ear.  A faint smile was curving the Cupid's bow of Seiji's mouth and lighting the pale violet of his eyes, softening them to a welcoming shade of lavender that Anubis couldn't seem to pull his own eyes away from.

          "You're lonely."

          Anubis sputtered at the whispered statement, even as a small voice within him agreed.  "Of... of course not!  I'm one of the lords of the Youjakai, I have servants by the dozens and there are Kayura and the others.  How could I be lonely?"

          Elegant fingers traced one eyebrow, then the other, diverting to run down the line of his scar.  "You are lonely for your peers, Anubis," Seiji explained.  "You said that Rajura and Naaza have more entertaining things to occupy their time, and from the way they treat each other, it is obvious that they are lovers.  You could never intrude on that, and so are left outside.  Kayura is not only younger than you, but is also in a superior position. And she is a woman.  You may not admit it to yourself, but you are too traditional to be comfortable in a social situation with her, I can see it in your eyes."

          Anubis shook his head, his mouth dropping slightly open as though to protest, but Seiji continued.  "I too am lonely, Anubis."

          Some long moments passed in silence between them, filled only with the sound of their breathing and the snapping of the fire.  Seiji's hands had settled around Anubis's again, containing them in his gentle warmth, and Anubis could feel the calluses on his palms, the sign of his career path.  Slowly, he turned his hands so that his matching calluses brushed against Seiji's, only to shiver at the touch; even as it was sterile, comparing one work-roughened hand to another, it was strangely erotic, laden with an unexpected intimacy.  More startled than he cared to admit, he pulled his hands from Seiji's and folded them in his lap, struggling for an excuse to seek his bed.

          As startled as he had been by the touch of their hands, it was a pale shadow of the surprise that lanced through his body as those same hands cupped his cheeks.  His eyes jolted up to Seiji's and widened in surprise as they saw Seiji leaning closer, and closer still, until Seiji's breath fluttered against the thin skin of his lips.  He opened his mouth - although in protest or invitation he did not know - only to have it sealed for him by the warm pressure of Seiji's parted lips on his.  A startled gasp escaped, and then all he could feel was the light friction of Seiji's lips, the gentle nibble of his teeth, the slow sweep of his tongue.

          By the time Seiji had withdrawn, Anubis's eyelids had drooped closed and one hand had risen to tangle in the fine hair at the back of Seiji's neck.  At the feel of the comparatively cool air touching his lips, his eyes slid open again, focusing slowly on the violet ones so close.  His hand slipped from Seiji's hair to tentatively touch his own lips, surprising himself with the intense sensations that even that light touch brought.  A sudden flush lit his cheeks and he tore his gaze away from Seiji's and sent it into the fire, not daring to face the man who knelt only inches away.

          Seiji's fingers touched Anubis's cheek gently, tracing the heavy line of his cheekbone.  "I apologize if my advances are unwelcome.  I shall await your invitation in the future."

          Touch - simple human contact - was still a shock, and Anubis found himself leaning, cat-like, into the pressure of Seiji's fingers.  Future... in the future... Could there be...?  Anubis felt a smile curving his lips as his fingers found the back of Seiji's neck once more to draw the blonde's mouth to his.  Whatever Seiji was offering him was enough; there was enough to explore the options later.  For now, Seiji's lips warmed him, anchoring him to the world he had thought closed to him forever.

          Somehow, it didn't seem so cold anymore.