A/N: Hi again. Thank you so much for those who have reviewed White Clouds. This one is a repost—I've deleted the original one and made some editing on the awful grammar. I'm sorry in case you've read it.

You know, I'm very disappointed towards what SoG did to Milo and Camus. I really hope Toei will make them reconciling again. No matter what, Milo and Camus will always be best friends for me.

By the way, I'm working on a new multiple-chapter-fic. I haven't thought about the ending, though. The ending will depend on how SoG is finished.

Timeline: After Sanctuary

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Saint Seiya characters. If I own them I won't ruin Milo and Camus's beautiful friendship.

Snowflakes in My Heart

By Yukitarina

It had been two weeks since he was gone.

At first Milo only felt a slight sadness; he had many things to do with Athena and the other Gold Saints. There was no time for laments.

But time went by and his heart just became empty and emptier. He realized that losing Camus meant losing the most important things in his life: a best friend, a brother, a teacher….

Everything in his life.

He had been unfocused in doing anything. Everytime he worked on his report he always stopped in the middle, and suddenly he wanted to go outside, passing Athens' roads. But where to go anyway…? Once he arrived at the town, he only stood there, let himself being showered when it rained, standing beneath the cold drops. He was only able to move when Mu approached him and asked him to go home.

Home? Where was home…? For Milo, home only existed in Camus's presence, but now he was gone. Did Milo still have any home to dwell in?

He could hardly eat or sleep. He kept gazing at nowhere, lost in thoughts, but no tears fell from his startling blue eyes. His sadness had been beyond tears. He lost his best friend, he could never see him, he couldn't get along with him, talk to him, or made joke with him again. Camus indeed was very serious and cold in nature, but strangely Milo felt so warm beside him. He felt…human. It was Camus who taught him how to love, how to sacrifice. His love towards his students was so inspiring that Milo always wanted to do the same things towards the people he knew.

But now he was gone…dead, frozen. What was living in the world for then? Milo kept thinking.

Two weeks later, his condition got worse. The startling blue eyes faded drastically, there were no sparks, no life. It was completely empty, like the eyes of dead people.

One day, when Aiolia visited Milo and asked him to dinner, he only managed to sit in front of the dining table. His fringe totally covered his eyes, and he didn't even touch his food.

"Milo," said Aiolia. "Please eat. You haven't ate for almost two weeks. Two weeks," he stressed.

Milo didn't reply.

Aiolia took a deep breath. "Milo. I know you're lamenting Camus's…," Aiolia's voice trailed off. It was so hard to say the word 'death'.

"I understand, but you still have life to go through."

Life. What is life…?

"Eat, Milo."

Milo sat without even the slightest move. Slowly, the event when Camus was alive came to him. The day before his death.

-00-

"Hey," Camus greeted, approaching Milo who was sitting on his desk and working on his report.

"Hey, Fridge. Ready for tomorrow?" Milo asked with his usual full-of-life blue eyes.

"Sort of."

"You'll meet your student." Milo said for about one hundred times.

"Yeah."

"This is weird," grinned Milo. "Usually it's me visiting your temple to do some pranks, but now you're here. What's wrong?"

Camus sat beside his best friend. His face wasn't cold; quite the opposite, there was a slight sadness on it, something that Milo very rarely to have vision of.

"Milo," said Camus after silence. "Starting from tomorrow… maybe everything won't ever be the same again."

"What?"

"Maybe some of us won't be able to stand the battles."

Milo laughed. "They're only Bronze Saints, Camus. Only a flick and done."

"You have no idea."

Milo looked at his best friend. He was a bit tickled, yet at the same time confused with Camus's thoughts.

"Camus, you're saying that the boy's skill is able to beat your Aurora Execution or Freezing Coffin or whatever it is?"

"His skill is indeed still below what it should be," said Camus. "But I have a faith in him. I believe he will be able to surpass my skill."

"It's impossible. Definitely impossible. It's only a dream," replied Milo firmly. "He will never surpass you unless you sacrifice yourself in order he—"

Milo stopped. He stared at his best friend, who looked at him calmly.

"Wait," Milo said. "You're not going to do that, are you? Don't ever say you're crazy enough to let yourself be killed just for Hyoga's sake."

Camus didn't say any word.

"Camus?"

"I'll sacrifice myself if necessary."

"Why?" asked Milo in disbelief. Never ever in his life he had a very strong urge to hit his best friend's face. He was insane, Camus was totally insane.

"He's more than a student to me," murmured Camus. "I care about him more than I care about myself. I'll do anything for his future even if it means giving up my life."

Milo stared at his best friend.

Seconds later, he continued working with impassive look.

"Get out," he said ruthlessly.

That was the words Camus had expected to hear.

"No."

Milo stood up and took some steps away from Camus. Camus stood up as well.

"Milo, I know this is hard for you—"

"Hard?" cut Milo. "No, it isn't hard at all. The one who's been your best friend for fourteen years says he will do a suicide mission for his damn student, I don't think it's hard."

"You don't understand—"

"I ALWAYS understand!" snapped Milo. There was a rage in his eyes, his face was even more ruthless than usual. "We've been friends not only for one or two days, we've been friends for fourteen years, Camus of Aquarius! Fourteen years!" his tone raised. "What do you mean I don't understand?! For fourteen years I've always been the one who begins! It was me who firstly asked to be your best friend, I was the first to start a joke, the first to laugh, the first to care! And I've never objected with your damn coldness, damn you! I've never objected even though I have to wait for hundred years to hear that you care about me, that you're proud to be my best friend! I always be the one who waits, and I've never objected!"

Camus closed his eyes as his tears fell freely.

"I'm tired," said Milo, feeling an extreme heat in his throat and his eyes. He didn't even have the slightest urge to set his grief aside. To hell with pride, to hell with self-worth. "I'm tired to be the one who waits. But I find out that I can never stop waiting…. I've never objected to be the first, to be the one who begins. As long as—." Warm tears streamed down his cheeks as Camus hugged him tight. "As long as you're alive."

He tried to release Camus's embrace, but it was really tight he couldn't let go.

"Listen, you idiot," whispered Camus after a very long time. He released his embrace and gazed at Milo. "I entrust Hyoga to you. Please take care of him." Two warm tears streamed down his cheeks, creating two little flows on his face. The face which was usually covered with unbreakable ice, now was so tender, so full of sadness.

"Hyoga again," whispered Milo. "Don't you have even the slightest worry about me?"

"We'll always be best friends, Milo," said Camus firmly. "Even though we can't be together again, we'll always be best friends. Please trust me on this." He grasped Milo's shoulder. "I have to do this. And I need you to support me."

Milo gave him a very long gaze. He tried to remember his face, his deep blue eyes, his eyebrows. Everything. Fourteen years togetherness, fourteen years friendship. And the next day he would probably lose him, lose the one who'd taught him how to love, to care. He didn't know whether Camus would really die or not, but he felt it. He had strong feeling that Camus would gladly sacrifice himself for the sake of his student.

Fourteen years.

"You bastard," Milo whispered as he hugged Camus tight. Camus kept patting his back, asking him to hold on, to carry on. He told Milo that people would surely confuse his eyes with blood, for it was extremely swollen, yet Milo didn't care at all.

When Camus died frozen in Aquarius temple, no tears fell from Milo's startling blue eyes. He only approached his best friend, pulled him into his arms, and gave him a brief farewell kiss on his forehead. He thought his tears had been dry.

But he was wrong.

-00-

"Milo."

Aiolia's voice awakened him, brought him back to the present. There was no Camus in his temple. Only him and the Leo saint with brown hair.

Milo closed his eyes as his two warm teardrops fell.

He shut his eyes tighter when Aiolia put him into his arms. Once again Camus made him crying, made him realize that he was not a tough Gold Saint. Only a man who really missed his deceased best friend.

"He never cared," said Milo with distant voice. "He kept choosing death."

"He always cared," said Aiolia. "No matter how hard you doubt him."

Aiolia released his embrace slowly, gazing on Milo's eyes. "I've lost the loved one as well, remember?"

Milo was startled. He was too busy thinking about Camus's death, letting himself drowning into extreme sadness that he forgot someone else had similar—if not more heartrending—fate.

"I lost my brother," murmured Aiolia. "I felt dying. But then I realized his death didn't happen for nothing, he died because he wanted to defend the righteous. If I kept mourning Aiolos's death, it meant I didn't honour him.

"Milo. Camus sacrificed himself in order Hyoga able to accept the bitterest thing in his life. His death will be a total waste if his best friend happens to be weaker than his student."

"I know that. I just…," Milo inhaled. "I still need him now, Aiolia."

"He never leaves you," Aiolia smiled as he held Milo's shoulder.

Milo gazed at Aiolia, lost in his words.

We'll always be best friends, Milo.

"And you're not alone," said Aiolia. As he said it, the other Gold Saints entered Scorpio temple. Mu, Aldebaran, even Shaka. Shaka, who usually had no will to leave his precious meditation, approached Milo with a smile on his face.

"You have your friends here."

Milo looked at Mu, Aldebaran, Shaka, and Aiolia who were sincerely encouraging him and putting their hands on his arms and shoulders.

"I look like a baby, don't I?" smiled Milo, replied by everyone's chuckles. How glad their hearts were when seeing a smile on Milo's face.

I need you to support me.

He was right…. Camus was right, so was Aiolia. He couldn't cry forever, he couldn't dishonour his best friend's sacrifice… he still had life to go through. He wouldn't upset Camus by doing unstoppable laments or mourns. He had to stay strong. He still had a promise to fulfill: taking care of Hyoga, taking care of himself. He also had promised to hold on, to carry on.

"You're right," said Milo as he wiped away his tears. There were sparks in his eyes. Yes, those sparks. The sparkling eyes which Mu and the others thought had died. It returned, creating life on the handsome face. Mu, Aiolia, Aldebaran, and Shaka's relief was beyond words.

"I'll buy books for Miss Saori," Milo said and stood up.

"What?" his friends' jaws dropped. Was buying books had anything to do with this?

"I haven't done Miss Saori's orders for about three weeks, and she always understands," said Milo. "I'll buy books for her in Athens' road. And I'll be ready if she orders me to do other boring things."

Mu smiled in happiness as he held Milo's shoulder. "Great, Milo."

"Now run," beamed Shaka. "Run to Athens' road to buy the books."

"Certainly!" laughed Milo, and he exited the temple with new spirit, new courage. He passed the stairs fast, and he ran…ran to the Athens' road. His tears fell from the corner of his eyes, but it wasn't sadness.

Camus, he thought as his tears fell down, as he passed the hundred stairs.

My life won't ever stop here just because of your death.

We'll always be best friends, just like you've said.

He wiped his tears away, smiled warmly.

And you'll always be here.

The snowflakes in my heart.

-End-