Silence.
A deep silence, frozen in the cold winter air. Akito sat by the window, her husband Shigure half-way across the room, reading a meloncholy novel about a fake love, one facaded to be real, not unlike theirs. Snow was falling down onto the road, putting little white dots onto the pitch-black pavement.
Pitch Black.
Akito chuckled, if only slightly, remembering of how the road was kind of what she thought life was like when she was still a "god". Pitch black, with no light, no happiness, no hope for such things, or anything at all. But now the pitch black was filled with light, like the delicate snowflakes on the road. When she and Shigure had gotten married, it seemed the light replaced the pitch black, just like twinkling snowflakes covering the pavement.
Too bad the snowflakes can melt.
After their marrige and honeymoon, things just seemed to get...different, in a sense. The kisses got less frequent, and when they would kiss, the kisses would mean nothing, as if it was part of a package deal in getting married. They never held hands, and never just spent nights in eachothers arms, holding eachother like it was for life. Akito often wondered if this was what love was like after being married. Was it supposed to be different? Was the butterflies of excitement around "that special person" supposed to leave? Where you supposed to feel like a stranger in your own body? It was strange, but she sure hoped so. She didnt particularly like the feeling of it, but she would rather have it this way than no way at all.
Still, she did want a little bit of reassurance.
Which she never got, at least not from Shigure. Hatori would tell her at times when she asked, "Of course he loves you, Akito, don't be silly.", but she wasn't entirely sure if she believed him, or what he was saying, or not. Sometimes she just simply decided to give up. But then she remembered that Shigure had promised, and told her time and time again that he loved her, even if it did sound empty. Except it seems there was an ever-growing crack in their relationship. Sometimes she would find herself thinking things like, 'whatever happened to unshakable truth?' .
Today was one of those days.
Except it was slightly different. Shigure and Akito haven't even spoken one word to eachother today. On silent days they would at least have some words here and there. They didn't even say good morning.
And so the snowflakes melt.
And keep melting, until theres only black pavement underneath.
Shigure dosen't love her, not like he used to. They both knew that, deep down. And Akito wasn't exactly much different. She loved Shigure, yes, but she also hated him for playing with her and letting their relationship end up where it is now. She loved him. She hated him. She hated him, almost as much as she hated him.
And that was alot.
She slowly lifted herself up, her body still frail. She was stronger, but frail still, and pale. She walked into the kitchen to look out the back slider-window. She reached a pale hand out to the cold metal handle of the glass door, pulled, and gently slid it open. The cold air lightly flowed in, rustling her now shoulder-length hair. She slowly walked down the wooden steps, invoulentarily shivering at the feel of the coldness on her bare feet. Her knee-length sundress whisped around her as the gentle cool breeze flowed past her.
The snowflaked shined so brightly it hurt. But it hurt so good.
She made her way into the snow, not even noticing her feet and legs now hurt it was so cold. She didn't know if she wanted to know they hurt, either. She was too focused on the shimmering snow in front of her, slowly, silently melting, dissappearing. Just like her and Shigure's relationship.
More snow, more melting, soon the snowflakes will be gone.
She walked over to the tree in the middle of their averaged-sized yard, and put her pale, bony hand on the trunk of the tree. She felt like crying, but she was afraid if she let tears come that they would freeze on her face. The trunk was cold, like her faith. The tree had lost it's leaves, like her hope. She sat down with her back to the trunk, burying herself in the snow, which now was up to her waist.
For the first time, she smiled at the bitter cold, and let the snowflakes slowly freeze her.
Tears streamed down her face as she shivered, but never moved. A tired, shaky laugh filled the outside silence as the dawn brought more light to the day, as if a new hope. Even though she never made it that long, freezing to the snow and her own meloncholy misery. She smiled up at the sky and took in one last breath, letting her life go into the cold, unforgiving breeze. Finally free.
And so there is nothing but the black pavement left.