Author's Note: My entry for the Rune Haven writing contest. The theme was "warmth," and this was the best thing I could think of for that. Seems more like the theme I'm writing for is "cold," at first, but it's a better fit in the end, I promise! Also, Max and Ray again, I know, I know, predictable. But they're so fun!

Warnings: It's depressing, but nothing bad really happens. It's only even rated K+ because I'm paranoid about language.

Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not have a single Rune Factory game to my name. Well, ok, I own the games, but I don't own the games. ^^;

Weatherproof

In any other season, Ray probably would have considered this time of day to be late in the afternoon, or perhaps early in the evening, but in winter, it was the dead of night. Dark and bitter cold, guided by only fading starlight and streetlamps as the sky slowly disappeared behind smoky night clouds. A night that made him want to stay inside, if only he didn't have to deliver something for a friend. He had, after all, learned to knit, of all things, and endured his sister's endless teasing over it, so he wasn't about to let the cold stop him. Snow began to fall, and he knew the streets would be white and slippery by morning, when it finally came, the sun lingering sickly beyond the horizon for hours. Winter, he thought, is like a little death for the world.

The mansion cut an ominous pale shape in to dark sky. Ray honestly had no idea what people would do in a house that would require it to be so tall. Well, there was that one time when Max lost it during an argument with his sister and swore up and down he would jump out of a window, but that would be a strike against excess height if anything, wouldn't it? Stupid dramatic bastard. Ray let out an exasperated sigh. Tonight, he was visiting that "stupid dramatic bastard." He honestly sometimes wondered why they were friends. He was certainly a nice enough person, and his cheerfulness could be contagious, but there had always been another side to him. His arrogance verged on obnoxious, which probably had something to do with his miserable insecurity. His tolerance for frustration was abysmal, and he had no concept of emotional restraint. And he's probably somewhere behind this door. Ray placed a stiff hand on the doorknob and turned it gently.

No one seemed to notice his entry, and the light inside was terribly dim. Everyone had gone off to their respective rooms, as they did every evening. Sometimes, he wondered how they even remembered that they lived here with several other people, with everyone spread out like this. Truth be told, he sort of envied the privacy. The stairs were tall and broad and lonely, and Ray ascended them in near silence. Upon reaching the top, he looked up and down the long upper hallway. Two doors with light leaking through the cracks, one with still more darkness behind it. This was the one he wanted. He decided to crack the door and peek through first. If he's sleeping or something, I'll just come back another day.

Max hadn't been sleeping. He was sitting in a chair in front of his window, and he reacted instantly to the sound of the door clicking open.

"Ray, don't you know how to knock?"

"The lights were out and I didn't know if you were awake… Can I come in anyway?"

"I don't see the harm in it. But I'll have you know that if you'd been a cat burglar, I'd have run you through on sight."

Ray eyed a rack of swords on the wall. The room wasn't completely dark, lit by a few candles. The blades flickered orange and silver in the dim light.

"I… Imagine you would have."

Max turned to face the window again, leaning on the sill and staring out in to the darkness, where the snow made listless paths from the sky to the ground. Ray pulled up another chair and took his own place in front of the window.

"I know you said you wanted something like this, so…"

Ray handed the soft knitted scarf he'd been carrying to Max, who wordlessly accepted it and wrapped it around his neck. Ray was a bit unnerved. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen his friend this quiet before. And the more he looked at him, the more he wondered why he had wanted something like that in the first place. Aside from matching the general color scheme of his wardrobe, it didn't really seem to suit him.

"You like it, then? I mean, it doesn't seem like something you'd wear."

"Well, I've been cold. Do you have any idea how hard it is to heat this place?"

Ray did notice that it seemed unusually cold, especially up on the second floor. He also realized that Max was actually wearing his coat properly.

"Max, are you alright? Why are you keeping it so dark in here."

"Because I want to look outside, not stare at my own reflection."

"That seems… Unusual for you."

"I guess you'd think so."

Ray often forgot that Max wasn't half as in love with himself as his behavior suggested. To his credit, it was a pretty seamless act.

"Max, you seem off."

"It'll pass."

"Are you sure?

"Doesn't it always."

Ray had to admit, it always did. But Max had always been the type to go off the rails in an angry way or with a frustrated sort of perfectionism. Maybe he'd get depressed occasionally, but he'd always done it in an overblown theatrical way that made Ray want to smack him. But now it seemed like he didn't have the energy for any of that.

"Well, you can talk to me if you want to."

"I know. I don't know why, but I always can."

"Of course you can. Why wouldn't you?"

"Ray, you're terribly smart, but it often seems like you don't notice anything going on around you."

"I… What?"

"In all the years we've been friends, haven't you noticed that you're the only person who ever talks to me?"

"It seems like people are always talking to you, though."

"Alright, I'll admit that you can put me in a room and I'll end up the most popular person there. Charisma and all that, you know? But honestly, have you ever seen anyone seeking me out of their own free will? I used to think it was because I intimidated people, but I'm starting to think I just put them off."

Ray could certainly see that.

"Max, you're… Well, you're frustrating and everything, but that doesn't make you a bad person. I mean, you can be annoying, but I don't think there's been a time when I wasn't glad to know you."

"It seems that way, and that's why I don't understand you sometimes. I don't know why I act the way I do, but it seems like you're the only one who realized that it's not always on purpose. So I guess you notice more than I gave you credit for earlier."

Ray felt that it was apt to accuse him of being unobservant. He felt like a whole layer of truth had been slipping past him undetected for years. He had already known that Max hid his instability behind his arrogant and outwardly flawless face to the world, and because of this, he had fancied himself to be more perceptive than most. After all, he knew the truth about Mr. Perfect, didn't he? He didn't know the half of it. All this time, and he never picked up on something that now seemed even more obvious: behind all his chatty boisterousness, Max's life was dark and cold. After hours of bragging to an enthralled audience, he'd come home to this huge, dark, icebox of a house, with its empty rooms and drafty windows, and find himself completely alone. And he had apparently cast Ray in to a certain role without telling him. How was he supposed to know that he was the only spot of true warmth in someone's life? Is that just something a person is supposed to pick up on? He wanted to offer some sort of apology. For not knowing his true role, for inwardly resenting Max for his ego and outlandish behavior, for letting him box himself up in a persona no one around him could stand, for every time he got frustrated and snapped "You're just doing this for attention!" Of course he was doing it for attention. When no one ever sees anything but what you wanted them to see, the rest of you feels understandably neglected. But he didn't want to let on that he hadn't noticed in the first place, so he curled around his blind spot as though it were a bad wound, and sat staring out the window, feeling pitifully stupid.

"It's really coming down out there, so you shouldn't have to walk home. Stay here tonight."

Ray could tell that Max probably just didn't want to be alone in the dark all night. But he figured that bad weather outside and bad weather in his friend's head were equally valid reasons to stay.

"Seems like a good idea."

Without another word, the pair continued to gaze out the window, at a sky that would stay dark for what seemed like forever.