Author's Note: So here it is! A lovely little holiday fic for you all. This one's a little different from most of what I write, I think. Also, it's more of a "yay winter!" fic than a holiday fic. Anyway, like last year's "Reindeer Games" I decided to base this one on an unlikely holiday song - this year's winner was "Frosty the Snowman". This will be updated on the 1st and 15th of every month from now until...whenever it ends. It should take a few months; there's about ten chapters I believe. (Also I promise to work on other things as soon as possible, especially Heart Br0ken's gift fic "To the Snow".) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!! I know I will...wink wink.

Autumn Falling

Prologue

"Curtain Up"

Sora shivered as he stepped over the threshold of his apartment. The air inside seemed barely warmer than the December wind that whipped outside the windows. The decor wasn't much better; bare wooden floors, sterile white walls, no sign of personalization anywhere. Sighing, he curled his arms about his middle, huddling with himself for warmth, and turned towards the kitchenette to glance at the thermostat. Sixty-nine degrees. He frowned to himself as another shiver wracked his body, teeth chattering as he muttered a curse.

Another breath of wind rattled his windows, and the thin white curtains hanging on the sliding glass door to his balcony billowed with the force of it, floating upwards almost violently before settling like snow as the gust died. Sora furrowed his brows, lower lip drawn inwards to be chewed on nervously. He didn't remember leaving the balcony door open. In fact, he distinctly remembered checking to make sure he hadn't. And anyway, it was the middle of winter! The damn thing hadn't been opened in at least five months. He crossed the room quickly to shut the door, not bothering to scan the layer of snow that had accumulated there throughout the day.

It was dark out now, and Sora briefly considered turning on a light. It didn't feel right, considering it was barely 5-o'-clock, so he decided against it and left himself in the dimmed, lonely rooms. Now that the wind was no longer leaking into the apartment, it was warmer and a bit cozy. His stomach rumbled softly and, throwing off his coat and scarf, Sora walked into the kitchen to find something to eat. He found nothing in the cabinets, and the fridge was just as empty.

Snorting to himself, he stomped back into the living room, pulled on his jacket and stormed out the door. It slammed behind him and he didn't think twice about turning around to lock it, instead he just walked heavily down the stairs, thumping angrily on each step down from the third floor.

The city streets were deserted, and so it was easy to hail a cab. He slid into the back seat with a grunt and slammed the door shut behind him.

"Easy there, kiddo!" The cabby cried, his rough voice slurred by the thick, unlit cigar hanging out of his mouth. Sora merely flicked his gaze upwards to glare at the man's reflection in the rear-view mirror. "Where to?"

Sora quailed. He hadn't thought of that; he hadn't thought of anything beyond getting out of the apartment. All he knew was that he didn't want to be here, in this god-forsaken, cold, impersonal city.

"The suburbs," he answered quickly.

"Which one?" the man asked with a short, derisive laugh.

"Whichever. The first one we hit once we get out of the city. I don't care."

Shrugging, the cabby pulled away from the curb and tangled himself and his passenger in the urban traffic. Immediately, Sora thought to change his mind. Maybe going to the suburbs in this kind of mood wasn't the best idea. Then again, with the way the gruff cabby was swearing and yelling at the other cars on the road, interrupting him to get out seemed like an even less favorable option.

Sora had been walking through the empty, unplowed streets of the strange town for almost an hour when he happened upon the large field at the end of a scarce neighborhood. It caught his eye easily. The moonlight reflected off the untouched blanket of snow covering it, creating a great glare that Sora could not look at directly, or even from the corner of his eye. But it was when a cloud passed over the moon, making the field more bearable to view, that it really caught his interest. There was something in the middle of it...someone, rather.

They stood there, completely still, for a long while as Sora watched them curiously. When this proved to be uninteresting, he turned his attention to the field around this person, noting in bewilderment that there was not a single footprint in the snow. Without thinking, Sora walked towards the shadowy figure.

Upon getting closer, he realized that the figure was male, tall and slimly built, though nowhere near lanky or stick-like. Sora slowed his steps as he came upon the stranger, snow crunching underfoot, yet failing to draw the man's attention. He stood just as still as ever, back facing Sora, long silvery hair draped across one shoulder. Every now and then a few strands would slip away from the rest and slide down the man's broad back.

When Sora was about arm's length from him, he decided to speak up and cleared his throat

in preparation. At the soft sound the other man began turning slowly. He merely blinked at Sora, eyes wide with curiosity and his head tilted to one side. And his eyes were breathtaking. They shone almost innocently at Sora, whose own eyes widened in response as he took a tentative step backwards. They were the most brilliant shade of sea green, and Sora suddenly found himself longing for the soft, warm sands and snowless winters of his hometown on the islands to the south.

"What are you?" the man asked, and though his voice was a low, soothing baritone, the intonation of his question rang childishly through the cold, stagnant air. Sora was unable to respond; he was still awed by this stranger, whose skin was so pale and fragile looking, and whose fine features were set in an expression of pure wonder. If he were about twenty years younger, Sora would have been more than willing to believe that this man before him has simply sprung out of the snow and started being. It certainly explained his missing footsteps, and his peculiar behavior...

"What are you?" the question was reiterated, though with a taste of impatience, and Sora snapped back to attention.

"Sora," he answered hesitantly, wondering if giving his name would answer a question as to 'what' he was.

"Sora," the man repeated delicately, soft, barely pink lips moving carefully around perfect, bright white teeth. "Sora is your name?"

"Uh...yeah. What's yours?"

"Mine?" he looked absolutely shocked at this question, his head drawing back slightly as his eyes narrowed in bewilderment. It was as if he were taken aback by the notion that he too had a name. After a moment his expression became very distant and detached, and he answered with a whisper. "I think...my name is Riku. I think. I can remember someone calling me that once..."

"How long have you been here?" Sora asked abruptly, his voice cracking with worry. Had he happened across some amnesiac hobo or something? He wasn't prepared to deal with this, no matter how gorgeous and intriguing said hobo was.

"My whole life. At least, as long as I can remember..."

"No, not this town, I meant..." shaking his head, Sora gave up. He wasn't really in the mood to explain that he'd wanted to know how long Riku has been in the field, not the town. The information wasn't necessary, so he could do without the headache. "Never mind," he continued, "I...uh, I uh should be getting home now."

"Where is home?" Riku asked, still as juvenile and curious as ever.

"The city," Sora called over his shoulder as he forced himself to walk back to the road and fished through his pocket for his cell phone. "'Night."

"Yes," Riku returned almost skeptically, "it is."

Frowning, Sora shuffled through his recent calls and rang up the taxi company that had brought him here. He wanted to go home, back to the warmth.

The balcony door was open again. He froze as he walked into the apartment to find the curtains fluttering wildly. There was a shadow behind them...someone was on his balcony.

Swallowing hard, Sora started walking forward slowly, holding a hand out in front of him as if this would prevent him from colliding with some unseen enemy. It seemed an eternity before his gloved fingers caught the light fabric and stilled its flailing. The shadow beyond grew almost imperceptibly in size. Whoever was out there had stepped closer now.

Sora squeezed his eyes shut and threw the curtain aside. When no one grabbed at him or gasped in surprise, once silence hovered in the cold night air for several long moments, he ventured a peek.

The man from the field, Riku, with his pale skin and pale hair and dancing, burning turquoise eyes, was standing before him once more, calm and smiling in the snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Sora cried, voice squeaking as he stumbled backwards.

Riku's expression fell instantly. He seemed terrified, and disappointed. Had he possibly thought that Sora would welcome him? They had barely even met!

"I...I followed you home," he explained weakly.

"Why?" It was Sora's turn to be terrified, now. Riku was stalking him, it seemed.

The other man's eyes glistened with what may have been tears and he stepped further away from Sora, turning his head so that the brunette would not see his face.

"I...had to hide."