She'd always loved the snow, ever since she was a child. It was like her whole world had donned a glistening cloak of white. She would be the first one to run outside and begin making snow angels and sculptures, dancing around in the falling crystals of frozen rain. The snow made her happy.
When asked her favourite season one year in elementary school, rather than replying her usual smiling response of 'summer', she had looked thoughtful for a moment and turned her face towards the window dazedly. 'Winter…is my favourite…'
The other kids had actually laughed at her for that. None of them understood how she could actually enjoy such a horrible season. Even her teacher had been surprised when she learned of this. They told Orihime that winter was harsh and cold. They explained to her that in winter everything turned to ice and how the world became darkened, constant night. It was hostile and cruel, the plants became bare and all life disappeared for what seemed like eternity; winter was death's harbinger.
She never bought it up that she liked winter ever again, telling everyone how much she loved summer but inside she knew winter was still her favourite. She didn't know why but even now her feelings hadn't changed. She spun around in circles, smiling happily as the snow danced around her.
"Isn't it beautiful, Shiro-kun?" She asked stopping to smile at the one before her. A hollow, Kurosaki-kun's inner hollow to be exact. They looked similar but were nowhere near the same. He stared at her unamusedly, not happy that he'd been dragged outside again despite his protests.
He snorted. "It's cold and it's wet. I don't see what's so special about it."
"Don't be rude, Shiro-kun," She tutted, "It's wonderful." He rolled his eyes at her and shook his head hopelessly.
She had forced him to wear a ton of winter clothes before going outside with her. A long scarf, a thick, heavy sweater, and these massive boots that he knew he would have to remember to eradicate later. It wasn't often that she thought this, for their relationship never went this way, but she had to admit that he looked adorable in all the snow gear and with the scarf wrapped around his face. She attempted to hide her blush with another twirl.
Of all people, she knew the hollow would understand. Even if he never admitted it.
She chattered on to him about icicles and how much she loved winter. He listened, albeit pretending he wasn't. She made a small snow bunny and was surprised to find him making a strange, small, snow monster, quietly by her side. She made a small joke about how he could probably camouflage with the snow earning a soft snowball in the head which lead onto an all out war in which she had the upper hand of her shun shun Rikka but he was still able to land quite a few thanks to his speed. The two of them were soaked completely, both grinning ear to ear-though the hollow's grin was much more fearsome- and claiming they were the snowball war champions as they turned toward her home.
"-And then Inoue Orihime took the gold, winning it for the home team! And- hm? Shiro-kun, what's the matter?" The hollow had stopped moving and was staring down at the ground, his molten gold irises burning brightly against their black outsides. She looked down at where he was staring and gasped.
"A flower!" she cried happily, dropping down to her knees. She gently touched the delicate petals, stroking their white silk. While the rest of the world was buried in the snow, somehow the flower had climbed its way to the surface and was growing strong. It must've been hard for it, she thought to herself, to try to keep growing in the piercing cold, to survive the layers of ice, not knowing if it would ever feel the light shine upon its lonely world ever again. Scary and difficult, but now it thrived.
"How could something possibly live in this?" the hollow whispered softly in disbelief. He wrinkled his nose distastefully.
Orihime stared silently down at the flower, stole a glance at the man behind her, and turned slowly back down to the flower, continuing to stroke the petals softly as if to soothe it of anything that might possibly be bothering it. She watched her breath cloud up in front of her face. She'd been through a lot. She knew loss and pain and she still had some bruises and scars to prove it. She could feel in heart that she wasn't the same as the child she'd been only a few years ago. But she made it through the winter. She knew the winter inside and out now; maybe even more than it knew her.
Her class hadn't been wrong about it; winter was cruel. It was harsh and unforgiving. It could make your heart freeze in a matter of moments or over a long painful amount of time. There was no warmth to be found when it unleashed its wrath. It knew death, it knew all the unfairness of the world; and it silently toyed with it knowing full well that was what it was. When winter came there were times when it felt like all the worlds light had been extinguished and she might never see it again, trapped and buried in winter's darkness forever.
But she loved the winter. Maybe it was because of that, she had finally made it through the snow, bursting exuberantly out to the surface. Where she could finally see it for its real beauty.
When she didn't answer the hollow's question he knelt down beside her. She let go of the flower and watched him silently pull off his scarf and place it on the ground. He cleared the surrounding snow away from the flower with his bare hands, the differences in colour almost imperceptible but for his pure black nails. He had no expression on his face as he grabbed the scarf back off the snow, and to her surprise, delicately as possible, tucked the scarf around the flower's stem. He stared down at his work for a moment and then stood up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweater.
He turned and called over his shoulder, "C'mon princess, let's go. I'm tired of hanging around in the freezing cold wearing wet clothes. Not a big fan of Hypothermia..."
She stared at his back for a few short moments before getting up and running after him, a smile shining brightly on her face. She'd survived the winter and it was still her favourite. Though no one else did, she understood the beauty that could be found in the softly drifting white snowflakes. She was in the light now and she could finally see the way the light shone on the snow, like a crystal sea. She loved the snow.
As she caught up to the hollow she slid her hand into one of his pockets and he let her take his hand without protest or even a comment. Her own personal winter. Her favourite season.
This just popped into my head randomly and needed to be written. So I wrote it. Hope you liked! Review please!