From inside the lit room in the tall warm house, she gazed at the scene from her frosty windows with wonder.
With her finger, she followed and traced the path of an especially large snowflake until it slowly tumbled out of her view.
Snow, it was like magic it seemed.
It fluttered and dallied through the wind, soundlessly landed on the lightest of objects, painted itself upon each and every little surface and transformed all of nature into a masterpiece.
In the morning, the children would be delighted, playing and bonding with each other thanks to this gift from the sky.
Haku though, felt happy just watching the flakes fall, imagining the wonderful place they could have came from and the smiles that they would bring. Like shards of fairy dust.
Even knowing what snow was, Haku still had never known anything quite like it.
Gazing out at the enchanting landscape, she cupped her cold hands together and whispered softly to the air.
When I'm finally able to fly, I'll meet with you
and together, we'll make our wishes come true.
"Darn this snow..."
Not only did it cave in whole cities, or reflect seas of peircing white sunlight during the day... It made everyone have to clean up after itself.
Akaito Shion tussled the snow off his ruddy hair as he continued to scrape heavy, wet piles off of the walkway outside his small house.
"I'm so sick of this weather." He mumbled, yanking off his snow hat (it made his neck sweat profusely.)
"This is the fourth time I had to shovel all this darn snoow-whoa!"
Akaito's legs gave away as he toppled over into a frigid sheet of snow besides the bushes.
"And darn this stupid ice!" he yelled shivering, punching the frozen puddle looming near his legs. He wanted to see if he could crack it. That would be really neat. After all, it's not like anything truly neat ever happened to him, especially since he started living by himself. Only he thought the privacy he got was worth not having an 'exciting' life.
And indeed, not even Akaito's parents were anywhere near. At sixteen years old, he eagerly moved out of his family's house in order to live a quiet, solitary life alone. He simply liked it better that way, although not every day happened to be quiet. Akaito was still a student at the Veux ca Loyd Academy, which was overrun with children, little pranksters, and way too much chaos. (According to him.)
Once he was done clearing the walkways near his house, he wiped the gathering sweat off his brow, tore his wet gloves off, stuffed hands in his jacket pockets, and walked down the cleaned-off sidewalk towards his usual place to get coffee every morning. The overexposure to winter was making his head ache.
"I'm going to need a ground habanero deluxe today, extra spicy and extra bitter. And with no sugar." Akaito momentarily loosened up to his thoughts. Ah, spicy, piping and bitter, just the way he liked it. The other customers probably thought Akaito was part dragon for being able to even down that stuff.
But upon arriving at the small building he had in mind, his sanity began to fall. The lights inside the café were off. On the front door of the building, a grey paper card read, in faded bold letters, "WE ARE CLOSED."
A huge mound of snow slipped and dove right off of the slanted roof, pounding Akaito right in his forehead.
With his face and jacket covered in clusters of ice crystals, Akaito stood there and leered.
"Are you serious!?"
Seconds later, slashing the snow off himself, he finally moved his stiff body and lumbered it back down the path, his small headache beginning to spread uncomfortably to different areas.
The distant laughter of playing children in the snow-covered fields crept up and tickled his ears, agitating him even further as his disdaintful steps turned into stomps.
i"Kids are so ignorant... they can't even realize how messed up the world is and how useless their playing is... but in a strange way... I... sorta feel... kind of jealo-"/i
Interrupting his imprisoning thoughts, a flyaway of paper, white as it could blend into the snow, sailed in through the piercingly thin air and smacked Akaito right in the face.
"ACK." it was like a shock of white.
"I- ah. ACk. What-the- ooh..."
... ... ...
He paused for an exaggeratingly long time, standing with clenched fists as if his tedious morning could not get any worse. The chilling blowing winds were so steady that the smooth paper was plastered smoothly on his face until he took his hand and peeled it off.
Akaito was then just about to thoughtlessly crumple the small white square and just fling it somewhere. Only he spotted handwriting on it that made him curious. Loopy, elegant handwriting written in black ink, despite being somewhat messy and scribbly. He thought the shape of the handwriting looked explicitly igirly/i, but it strangely wasn't an eyesore to him.
"Janurary 14, 19XX," it read.
"heavenly white snow once again covers the grounds outside. it makes everything look delightful, and wonderful as if i were looking at a painting.
right now, as i gaze out the window, i wish i were out there sledding, building a snowman, or making snow angels. rolling through the snow must certainly feel like rolling through a dream, i'd imagine. i would love to have a friend with me too, i wish-"
Akaito curiously flipped the note over to the back to see if there was any more to it, but it was blank. The note was unfinished and abruptly cut itself off. Akaito secretly wanted to know where it came from, though he shrugged and folded the paper back in his jacket pocket, abrutly remembered his grumpy mood, and continued to walk.
"Hmph... is she crazy?" Akaito thought nonchalantly, unconsciously assuming the writer of the note was a female.
"Who would even want to be out in the snow anyway? Rolling in a idream/i? Really?"
Breaking his train of thought, Akaito heard a muffled cough echo through the still air. He lifted his head up and looked up and around, looking through the white roofs of houses, glassy windows...
He looked at one window just in time to see another small piece of paper spring out, then flutter from the window of the two-story house nearest to him.
Slightly puzzled, Akaito ran towards the spot and picked it up, he didn't read it, but in his glance, he saw that the handwriting on the note was the same as the other.
"Excuse me, sir... would you please be kind enough to return those papers to me?" an airy, somewhat shaky voice floated down weakly from above, followed with another cough.
"Um, sure." Akaito yelled up to the window.
"Oh, you can just... use the front door. And when you see the stairs on the left, walk up them, and then my room is on the right."
Akaito carefully listened to the hollow voice.
"Um, alright. Got it."
He felt a small bit intrusive for entering another person's house so randomly, but he was immediately drawn in by the domestic coziness that wafted about inside of the interior.
The brown wooden walls and floors, bluish lavender carpets, topped off with a strange aroma of drowsiness and peace.
The toasty temperature as he stepped inside made him feel delightfully warm as well.
Remembering the directions he had been told, he found the staircase to the left, and entered the door to the right.
"Creak..." the door hinges softly chirped, a distinct creak, like a small kitten's mew.
The atmostphere of warmth and safety was even more saturated in the small room, whre the walls were painted a smooth white and the furniture soft colors. Several paintings and pictures of nature were strewn about the opposite wall.
In the corner on the edge of that wall, under a large curtained open window and a few drawings of butterflies, was a bed big enough for two people.
And in it, was but one girl with skin and hair like snow.
She entered Akaito's gaze as she faced back in his direction, with modest, gentle eyes. Her face was sullen and pale, reminding Akaito directly of the winter landscape he had just walked in from. Below her sloping neck, her body, appeared rather lanky from what one could see outside of the thick bedsheets.
On the elevated wooden platform to her, Akaito spied a slightly tattered journal that appeared to have been where the note papers were from.
Akaito approached the odd girl apprehensively. To his surprise, she began fidget on eye contact, hiding her face away.
"Um... here you go." at the edge of the bed he held his hand out. The sickly-looking girl turned around to face him, reached to pull the crinkled notes in and skimmed over what she had written on them.
"You... didn't read them, didn't you?" she asked, in a tone that was almost a murmur.
"Um... no. I mean... yes, I only read the first one."
"Not the second one?" the female asked.
"No." Akaito quickly shook his head.
"Whew..." the frail girl let out a sigh before showing her gratitude. "Um... thank you though. Thank you very much for the favor!"
"Hm, you're welcome." Akaito honestly didn't know whether he should've just left then.
He would've, he was going to, but he strangely, he simply wouldn't walk out the door. Was he afraid of seeming rude?
The earnest, fragile-looking girl in the bed made him feel a bit intrigued. She looked almost like she was an untold story herself.
i"A long, sad story..."/i Akaito realized he was lost in thought when he noticed that she behaved quite meek. Facing the window, while her eyes continued to spare glances in his direction every second. When it seemed like he wasn't going to leave, she began to face him again.
"Oh... well... isn't the snow lovely?" she asked in a breathy tone, amongst the stilling silence.
And Akaito, the exact same person who was mentally cursing out the weather minutes earlier, decided to nod, just slightly.
"Have you built a snowman today?" she continued asking, with a gentle smile.
Akaito thinned his eyes. "What...?"
The shy female gave a sigh and cast her head down.
"I wish that I was healthy enough to be able to play outside and stroll through the snow. My mother said, because my body is weak, and the seasons are getting brutal, I should stay in bed. I need to keep warm and rested so I won't get any sicker. It's such a shame though... I love Winter the most."
Fondly she spoke, in a small, low voice.
"Winter... she's sadly melancholy, yet graceful and sweet, and she brings people tons of joy..."
"She?" Akaito thought. What was with this strange girl, calling a season by a pronoun? But he did have to admit... he was feeling a twinge of sympathy.
"And if you play in the snow, then you are making friends with winter..." the girl quietly finished talking.
"...Haku Yowane?"
Akaito spotted her name on the side of her notebook, in her now familiar loose handwriting. Haku Yowane, a name that to him, flowed together like smooth silk. It left him with a light, feathery impression.
"Um... so..."
Out of all the questions he wanted to ask, he didn't know of where to start. He didn't know of what to ask her.
"Where are your... parents, anyway?"
It was one of the first questions that came to his mind.
"My mother isn't home right now." Haku answered without hesitation.
"Father... he's gone to heaven. Mother is probably out working hard for me to get better..."
"So... can I help you in any way, Haku...?" Akaito finally brought up the courage to speak.
"Oh, y-you don't have to do anything for me." Haku said. "But I want you to be happy and enjoy things. You enjoying the snow would be enough for me..."
"Why... don't you care about yourself?" Akaito forcefully interrupted. Haku immediately looked a little bit thrown back.
"Well... I do want to get better, but... in the meantime, I just want to m-make everyone else h-happy."
Akaito noticed Haku shivering slightly. Her thin exposed neck was only slightly concealed by her thin hair and appeared as it would be bitterly cold.
"Haku, you seem cold."
Somewhat sternly, Akaito removed his dark red scarf from his neck, and with his warmth still lingering in the fabric, he lifted Haku's smooth flowing hair and gently wrapped the scarf around her neck.
"You... but, why?" Haku asked, seeming somewhat reluctant and baffled.
"Because..." Akaito shifted his stern face away slightly.
"You seemed to have needed it more than I did."
"Thank you... but... I really just d-don't want it." Haku slid the warm, thick scarf of her neck and held it back out.
"I can tell that this scarf was special to you. See how it's slightly worn out?"
She pointed to the ragged, tattered spots with her thin fingers and Akaito did think of how long he had worn the scarf; ever since he first moved to a new neighborhood back when he was young. It was a long time when he thought about it. Though he never considered it as any important keepsake.
"I really do appreciate your kindness towards to me... but I wonder... why you seem so sad?"
Haku suddenly asked, looking Akaito meekly in the eye. Her face looked especially indisposed when she frowned in concern-large, round, droopy eyes, and a long, thin nose. Yet to Akaito, it was an innocent-looking, oddly endearing face.
"What makes you think I'm sad?" Akaito narrowed his eyes. Haku lifted a hand to her mouth.
"Well... why aren't you playing in the snow, or... smiling?" she asked in a crestfallen voice.
"You... Haku, why do you want to see me smile so badly?" Akaito threw his arms our. It was his habit to become aggressive when he didn't understand something. He barely noticed it.
"Because I believe everyone can be happy if they just smile, if they just believe in happiness..." Haku's voice shook. "I even throw notes out the window on purpose sometimes, with nice messages on them, just so I could make someone feel good..."
Akaito, suddenly in disagreement, shook his head.
"Personally... I think people like you tend to go a bit overboard..."
His words were somewhat coated with aggression, as his speech normally was.
"Well... you see, it honestly... just doesn't work. It takes more than just smiling on the outside to fix what's inside." he paused to think of an example.
"Smiling... it isn't getting you out of the bed you're stuck in, isn't it? It's the truth... Just because you made somebody smile, doesn't necessarily mean you made them happy."
When Haku's face became a shock of white, Akaito suddenly knew he had said the wrong thing. The fragile tension in the room had gotten too much for him to put up with.
He wished now that he could've just kept his thoughts inside.
"Um... Sorry, I really have to be home now," Akaito said.
"I have a lot of stupid school assignments to do. Goodbye. It was nice to talk."
He tried flashing a shaky at Haku to see if she would smile back, but her face was looking too far down to be sure. He made himself assume she had smiled, anyway.
Akaito pushed the chair back nervously.
Slowly, he got up and turned around, aware he left the scarf on Haku's bedsheet, as he had on purpose.
Haku looked up just as Akaito entered the hallway, just in time to see the thick white panel close behind her one last time.
The sound of footsteps faded and disappeared.
Everything was silent again. Not a single sight moved.
After a few long, empty seconds of staring at the door, Haku's red eyes quietly filled with tears. Trembling with weak sobs, she clutched the warm red scarf, burying her face into it as she began to cry.
ENDNOTE: In case you didn't realize, "Veux ca Loyd Academy" is a pun I made on "Vocaloid Academy". "Veux ca Loyd, sounds a bit French? It should be pronounced like "Vocaloid"!
The story is supposed to take place in 'simpler times', you know, before cellphones and all. Before even cars, perhaps. Before advanced medicine was there, for people like Haku.
This story is planned on being 5-9 chapters of the same length. Part 1 is probably the worst part but *sigh*, gotta start somewhere..
By the way, I got the inspiration of the story by listening to "Yoru no Uta" from Cardcaptor Sakura. It just put it into my head.
gee i kinda really hope people would care about this though. i don't predict it ever gathering much attention ;;
And yes, there will be a story, of course!