So there he sat, staring faintly into the sunrise, feeling the warmth of the sun gradually overtake his body. He had questioned multiple times whether or not there would be a sunrise at all without her there. They had never been apart so for all he knew the sun had risen every morning just to greet her. As the golden rays continued to envelope his figure, his arms fell at his sides lifelessly. He slumped down in his chair and let the lonesomeness wash over him. Was this the weight that would be on his heart from this point on? Was this what Kudo had lived with all this time? He understood clearly at that point why 'neechan cried so often. The longing in his heart was rivaled by no other feeling he'd ever experienced. He tried his best to suppress the pain, just a little bit, just enough to maybe stand up. But it was futile, the weight of his own sorrow simply pinned him there. He felt his eyelids start to close as the energy in his body was swiftly drained by the immeasurable agony that consumed his mind and body. Consciousness brought him no relief, and unconsciousness only brought him nightmares that magnified the pain he already felt to grotesque levels. He shut his eyes completely and prayed only for a pleasant dream, just to relive any moment in time when she was there with him. Any moment at all would be infinitely better than the emptiness of her absence. With that in mind, he drifted off to sleep. Soon after he fell asleep, a familiar warmth bound itself to his hand again. Even in the deepest recesses of his mind where his currently unconscious thoughts resided, he felt its presence. He responded by gripping back as tightly as he could. When he responded to her hand she blushed and proceeded to caress the top of his hand with the tips of her fingers. She could see his body relax and this comforted her. She pressed her head to his chest and rested there, entranced by the rhythm of his heart beat. She hadn't slept at all the night before, not even a moment. But there, with him, she wanted more than anything to drift into sweet blissful slumber and never awaken. However, she could not, for an unfortunate destiny awaited her a few yards away. Her father sat anxiously in his car, awaiting her return. She thought about leaving and shed a remorseful tear. She watched as the tear rolled down her cheek and saturated the front of his shirt. She lifted herself up from his chest and slowly released his hand. As their hands separated, the coldness that had been temporarily alleviated for both of them now returned to reclaim its icy hold. She ran her fingers gently down his cheek and left him, eyes tear ridden and heart as close to torn as it could get without completely falling apart. As their car drove away, he was awakened from his brief rest. He looked in all directions as he readjusted himself in his chair. He looked down at his hand which felt so much colder than the other. So much colder than it had ever been before. As he sat in confusion gazing at his hand, a mirage appeared before him, depicting the events of the past few minutes. He watched her hold his hand and cry on his chest and he questioned whether this was his mind's way of coping or his heart's way of comforting him. Either way, he deduced that it was merely an image projected by his inner thoughts as a result of his drowsiness. The moment he decided that, the images disappeared and he was alone again. Alone, and left only with the brisk chill that danced around his hand.
-Warmth is a cruel devil. It makes its absence known by leaving the accursed sting of cold behind as a reminder that it was once present.