Yamato sat up and stretched his arms. It was early Friday morning when he looked outside. All he saw was snow. Snow, snow, and snow. The occasional imprints of young children made little holes in the white fluff. He wished that all the kids would leave it alone; it just got there and it was a beautiful sight. It wasn't meant for kids to ruin it for others. Stretching once more, he finally got up to walk to the door. His journey continued down the shortened hallway, around the corner and…

"Umf!" Yamato screeched as he fell on his chest, "Hey!"

"Oops," a younger male's voice said, "Sorry, Yamato."

The blonde turned onto his back and looked up at the person. His legs were out in front of the chair, crossed at the heels, and his arms were crossed over his chest. So gentle and fragile looking, there sat Koushiro, his eyes staring at the ground. Though no fault of his own, Yamato stood up and apologized.

"What's wrong?" he asked his friend with a curious tone.

"My parents," he replied, "wanted me to stay here while they were gone for the weekend. Your dad said it was just fine with him. But then he left when he got a phone call. Then I didn't know what to do. And now I still don't know what to do. And though you may laugh at this, I feel as if I could cry--no comment."

He said that in such a quick manner his head spun. "Koushiro," blinked the blonde, "I could fix you a breakfast if you want."

The younger boy smiled as if he was comforted, but his stare didn't rise off of the ground. Yamato took that as a yes and went into the kitchen.

"So," he began, taking out a frying pan. "What's your delight? What tickles your fancy? What makes your taste buds water?"

"Uh," Koushiro said from a distance. "I-I don't know."

Yamato thought a moment, "Well how about some eggs and toast? Easy, yet filling. Oh, but I could fix you French toast or something." He started to ramble on with what he could make for his friend.

"A-anything's fine." Koushiro said, his voice never losing its unhopeful tone.

The cook thought again for a moment, but before he could say anything else, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to look at Koushiro, his head was bowed and his arms were folded behind his back.

"Huh?" Yamato asked.

"Where's your bathroom?" he answered in a question.

Yamato laughed, his light hair falling over his eyes. He had forgotten that Koushiro has never been to his apartment before. Within a minute, Yamato was back in the kitchen, pondering on what to fix.

In the bathroom, Koushiro looked at himself in the mirror. He reached up and fixed his hair to the extent of perfection, then turned the water on.

"Why," he asked himself. "Why do I seem to be commiserated by others? I am but a boy, a boy whom is learning to adapt to life. One who is learning what needs to be learned at a quicker pace than the others; one who is ready for whatever challenges are thrown. So why do people pity me?"

He started to express his feelings to himself as the water from the faucet ran freely. A minute or two passed by until he heard a simple knock on the door. Koushiro turned the water off, dried his hands, and then opened the door.

Yamato nodded towards the kitchen; "Your breakfast is ready."

A light smirk appeared on the boy's face as he made his way out to the table. "Thanks." He said plainly. After a moment of preparing a breakfast, Yamato joined his friend at the table with a plate and a glass of milk for each of them. At first, they ate in silence, unsure of what to do or say. Then occasional things came up like whether they liked the snow or rain better, the sun raising or the sun setting, a crescent moon or a full moon… It went on like this until Koushiro broke the train of 'do you like this or this' questions.

"Why do people commiserate other people when not needed?" he poked at his food a bit.

Yamato thought of the word commiserate. He wasn't sure of what it was, but he didn't want to make himself look bad in front of his younger friend. "Because they don't know what else to do in cases like that?" he asked firmly.

"I guess…" Koushiro looked up, "I guess you're right. Nobody acknowledges what other people feel. And they don't know how to convey themselves into asking a simple question."

"Eh," blinked the blonde, "ri-right. That's it."

Koushiro held in a chuckle and the two went into silence again. Both of them were very mature for their age, and both were equally wise. In different ways, Yamato was smarter than Koushiro. But in the other direction, Koushiro knew more than he did. They balanced each other fairly, school wise. In home life, Koushiro had it rough, Yamato had it easy. They understood how each other felt, but none of them ever actually talked about it. To them, the subject of life was just another thing to breeze by their minds.

Koushiro looked up from his plate at Yamato, he was looking back. Before they knew it, both of them were staring at the food again.

"Wanna go outside?" Yamato asked very childishly.

Koushiro set his fork down and stood up. "Sure," he replied as if he wanted him to ask that question.

Outside was glorious; everything was touched by white and chilled with the cold. Many kids were already sliding down the small hill near the apartment buildings. The snow was deep, pure, and innocent looking. It was as if Mother Earth wanted it to be there just for Yamato and Koushiro's pleasure. They took a step outside, and automatically, Koushiro tripped into the snow.

Yamato knelt down and helped him to his feet. "You okay?" he asked.

Koushiro's face was a bright red. "Uh, yeah." He said, losing the intelligent words.

Yamato noticed the redness and wonder what there was to be embarrassed about. Then he realized that it must've been the snow and how quickly it came to the boy. Koushiro swiped the snow off of his coat and pants and looked around the snow-covered area.

"There's a really steep hill 'round the block." Yamato started.

"Are you planning to go?" he asked.

"Do you want to?" he asked back.

Koushiro nodded and they walked around in the deep snow. When they arrived at the hill, they saw that kids were already sliding down in garbage can lids or even the fancy type of sleds. Either way, they were still sliding down that hill. Koushiro's eyes lit up when he saw all the fun they were having. It was about time he got off his laptop and did something with the world around him. Well, partially it was because his mother told him he couldn't take the laptop; but he was sure that he'd leave it if he knew how fascinated it was.

"C'mon, Koushiro," Yamato got a hold of his hand and dashed up the side of the mound. For a short while, Koushiro was falling behind, but he then got up to pace with him and stopped only when he did. He felt as if he were a dog on a chain, being pulled every which way and that. Anger started to flare into his mind, but he looked down at his hand; the hand Yamato was holding. A blush came to his cheeks but it was easily hidden by the coldness of the wintry day. For a brief moment, Koushiro's mind thought of something he had never thought of before. But in the next moment, that thought was lost.

"I got us a ride down," Yamato said and pulled his friend onto a small, circular ride thing. Koushiro blinked and that's all he got to do before they flew down a side of the hill, bumping into everything in sight. Yamato's face was lit up with enjoyment, but Koushiro held onto his friend for dear life. He never did anything like this before; he feared that he would collide with someone else. Just as fast as began, it ended. They came to a quick halt and both of them flew off the little sled and over a large pile of snow. The snow softened the land, but Koushiro still thought it was painful.

"Wasn't that fun?" Yamato laughed and sat up, shaking his head to get rid of the snow.

"I, I," Koushiro started and then grinned, "yeah, I think it was." He reached up to get a clump of snow off Yamato's shoulder, then leaned back against the pile of snow. They were practically hidden from the hill.

Yamato blinked at his friend, then he blinked back. They were thinking of the same thought.

"Koushiro?" he turned his head a little to avoid looking him in the eye.

Koushiro did the same; he focused on the snow instead of the blonde, "Yeah?"

He hesitated and pulled himself to sit by Koushiro. "I've been wondering…"

The younger male froze. "He couldn't be saying what I think he's saying…" he thought.

"Do you think it's possible,"

"Stop thinking about that," he kept telling himself in his mind.

"If you an' I," Yamato stopped. "Never mind. It's a foolish question."

"No!" Koushiro thought. Then he said aloud, "No, ask the question."

Silence filled their surroundings. Only the laughter of the others was what they heard. Yamato started to lean towards the boy's cheek. Koushiro, in return, started to panic and turned his head to look at him. Instead of avoiding it, their lips touch, but only for a fleeting moment. Both of the boys turned away from each other, blushing heavily.

"Sorry." Was the only thing Koushiro could choke out.

"My fault." Yamato claimed right afterwards. They said nothing more than that. When the snow started to fall again, they decided, without words, to go back home.

As they made their way back, Koushiro looked up at the sky. It was cloudy and the snow was falling slowly. But in midst of all the laughter, cheer, and snow, a single white dove flew across the sky and swerved around the light post before making itself cozy on a branch. Out of all the birds that migrated or stayed in their nest to keep warm, this single dove, the single bird, the loaner decided to take a flight out in the snow. Koushiro thought about this… If he was doubting his life, how he was acting, the way he performed his life, how people thought of him; why didn't he do something about it? Then his mind studied on Yamato. He knew he liked him. In the more than a friend type of way. He decided to stop his self-pity and take his own way.

They arrived at the door, Yamato waited for Koushiro to go through the door, but he remained outside.

"Something wrong?" the blonde asked.

"No," he answered. "Yes…" he added shortly after.

Yamato raised a brow, "And it's?"

Koushiro looked up at his friend; his face showed nothing but confusion.

"Tell me." He said in a demanding order.

Koushiro felt his hand start to shake in his pocket. Finally he had the nerve to say what he wanted to say. But his mind went one way and his actions went another. The younger boy stood upon his toes to reach his friend's lips. They enclosed his cold, but sweet touch and Yamato wanted to pull back from surprise. He didn't. The blonde just returned that kiss, but with power; as if they were an actual couple who were together for a long time.

Koushiro's mind raced, just as it did when he had gotten his laptop. Except this was different. It was meaningful. It was lasting. It was… perfect. He thought about the dove; how it flew on its own without anyone beside it. That's how he saw his life, alone and a loaner. But he was going to change it, and he believed he did.

Yamato's mind also hied with his heart. He had many accomplishments in his life, but this move with Koushiro seemed to change everything. Music didn't seem as important. He never realized his feelings until this day.

The kiss broke as both realized their breath had escaped them. Yamato held his hands up to his friend's cheeks and felt the warmth and softness. Koushiro placed his hands upon his and they looked into each other's eyes. They saw themselves in the reflection. Automatically, the two smiled. Out of the corner of his eye, Koushiro saw the dove fly again. This time, it wasn't alone.

"Irony," Koushiro thought, "is a very ironic thing." He smiled as the snow fell on top of Yamato, then finally slid one of his hands in his. "Let's go," he said, "it's cold now."

Yamato followed, but stopped. The other stopped with him.

"Something wrong?" Koushiro blinked.

"I," Yamato started. "I love you, Koushiro." He finally said with meaning.

Koushiro blushed, but didn't pay any attention to it. "I love you as well, Yamato."

That night, when his father came home, Yamato woke up. He saw his friend lying on the floor beside his bed, all curled into a ball in a sleeping bag with an extra blanket. With out hesitation, Yamato slipped out of his bed and walked to his desk. The light from the hallway gave him enough sight to write. Afterwards, he sat on his bed and thought. At last, he grabbed his pillow and a heavy blanket and placed himself beside Koushiro. Merely inches apart, Yamato touched the boy's cheek with his warm hand. He then closed his eyes, letting his hand remain on Koushiro.

In the morning, the computer whiz woke up to find Yamato's blanket and pillow beside him. But no sign of Yamato himself. He sat up and found a folded piece of paper with the name "Koushiro" written on it with fine handwriting. Koushiro reached and grabbed it, then unfolded it slowly. His eyes showed a sign of satisfactory and love. Then he left the note on the ground and went to see Yamato.

The note read:

In day, or in night,

With you, I'll remain.

You've taught me what's needed.

You've taught me a pain,

I have never felt that before,

But with you, I'll remain.

The sunrise, or sunset,

It's you, that I'll still love.

You're a beautiful being,

An angel… from above.

Thank you for what you've done.

It's you, that I'll still love.

While alone, or with friends,

Please, never forget me.

I will prove that I love you,

And that I care for thee,

Because I love you Koushiro

And all that I ask is to

Please… Never forget me.

-Your Yama.