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The Trouble With Americans...
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After two weeks of weather fakeouts and a predictably off-white Christmas, it finally snowed for real. Every rooftop and car windshield was buried under at least six inches, but somehow Kiku's parents both made it to work on time. All public and parochial schools in the local district were closed for the day, leaving children to sled down front lawns on trash can lids and erect igloos in the piles from plowed streets.
Kiku had fond childhood memories of winter in Japan: soaking up steam beside his family in the hot springs up north, or bumping Mom's feet under the kotatsu. These days, the house was empty more often than not, leaving Kiku to his own devices. Things had been tense ever since his mother had switched from being a professional housewife to a savvy businesswoman.
Something splatted against Kiku's bedroom window, hard enough to knock over a picture frame resting idly on the sil. Kiku pulled back the blinds and unlocked the window to find Alfred's smiling face glaring up at him. Before he could say anything, a snowball barreled into his room and hit him square in the chest.
Alfred doubled over with laughter while Kiku rushed to dress and stumbled down the stairs. He chucked another snowball as soon as Kiku made it out the front door. Halfway down the sidewalk Kiku slipped on a patch of ice while trying to zip up his coat. His hat fell despondently beside him.
"Nice one," Alfred teased, outstretching his arm to help him to his feet.
His outfit left a lot to be desired. Alfred wasn't even wearing a winter coat, just baggy jeans, a thin cotton hoodie, and sopping sneakers. It's as if he had no sense of self-preservation.
"You should be wearing gloves," Kiku admonished upon noticing.
Alfred shrugged. "I am wearing gloves!" Kiku crossed his arms and Alfred rolled his eyes. "Okay, well I'm wearing one glove."
Kiku eyed the abomination - a flimsy black thing with Alfred's fingertips peaking through. His other hand was raw and wet. Alfred rolled his shoulders and jammed his fists in his pockets. The wind grazed his face, sharp and biting.
"With holes in it." Kiku frowned, before rummaging around in his coat. "One moment."
Kiku produced a second pair of mittens much like the ones he was wearing: hardy snowproof, and blue. He silently offered the gift, but Alfred appeared to be mortally offended.
"I'm not wearing mittens, they're for babies and little girls!" Kiku didn't blink and Alfred scowled. "Okay, fine. I'm wearing the stupid mittens."
The moment the clothes were secured Alfred bent down to scoop up snow. He rolled it between this palms until it was compacted into a ball the perfect size for pelting Kiku. They ran until Kiku's chest burned, white hot with fire, and he was sweating through his turtleneck and sticking to the inside of his coat. Kiku whipped his head around two seconds too slow; Alfred bowled him over in what was meant to be a playful push.
He wanted to be angry, but he wasn't. There was fresh blood under his skin and Kiku could feel the steady thump of his own pulse in the juncture of his neck. This was probably something like being alive. Alfred fell back into the snow beside him, spreading his arms and legs to leave a purposeful imprint behind. The sky was cloudless now that the storm had passed, washed out and gray.
"You know…" Alfred sighed. "My Dad was supposed to come over yesterday." There was a beat where Kiku didn't breath. "And on Christmas."
His father had been absent from Alfred's life since he and Kiku had meet. While he'd always wondered, he'd been far too polite to ask. So, he wasn't a cop after all.
"He was supposed to be out on parole because of good behavior, but..." Alfred sighed, aimlessly scanning the sky. "He never came."
Incarceration? Kiku sat up, resting his chin on his knees. Alfred's wrist knocked the heel of Kiku's boot before moving away. He couldn't help wondering if Alfred was warmer now, and what his hot, calloused palm would feel like against his own. Kiku wanted to melt into the snow beside him.
"My parents are almost never home," Kiku admitted softly, trying to banish the fleeting thoughts. "And even when they are, it feels so...empty."
It almost felt inappropriate complaining. Alfred had real problems, after all. Wasn't it selfish to bellyache when Alfred had only a mother? Kiku noticed he wasn't wearing his father's jacket today, either. While he saluted the display of principles, something about it felt pointless, almost superficial. In the end, wasn't it better to be warm?
"Parents," Alfred despaired. "Who needs 'em?"
Everything became quiet and Alfred's face grew serious. Somber didn't suit him. The trees bowed when another gust of wind blew through. Kiku flipped his hood up and pulled on the string so it would close. His lips were already becoming chapped.
"Hey, I know!" Alfred jumped to his feet and spun around to face him. "Let's get hot chocolate."
Kiku struggled to his feet and stood beside Alfred, staring at the shapes they'd left behind in the snow. Much to his relief, they didn't really resemble angels at all.
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