It was yet another winter day. Snow fell slowly from the looming clouds above, covering the ground in a kind of pure, white blanket. No animals could be seen amongst the white and gray and black, spindly trees. It was so still, so quiet, that Rin supposed the land was asleep. That it was slumbering away, waiting for the warmth to come, waiting for spring. That would make two things that Rin loved that were sleeping, then.
She heard a soft rustle, subtle breathing, beside her. Gumi was stirring in her sleep. Not waking, but drifting. Drifting away into yet another dream, into yet another illusion. Rin wondered briefly if Gumi even remembered her name, if Gumi even remembered who she was anymore. She had been sleeping for so long, waiting for so long. A month, was it? At first, it had been in and out. She would rouse for a moment, and then fall back into dreamland. The tubes and things pumped liquids into and from her body. In and out. In and out. In, and out...
What was she dreaming about? Were there pretty birds in paradise? Blue skies and cool, fresh water? Was it lovely there, like the fairy tales and storybooks always said it would be? Was she happy in such a world? Rin missed Gumi, missed her so much. They had been such good friends, such perfect friends, before the girl had fallen asleep. Ever since, Rin had stayed by her side whenever so allowed. When she wasn't, she would write stories to tell to Gumi when she finally woke up. Would draw pictures and weave songs. When Gumi finally woke up, she would make sure that the girl was happy in such an imperfect, flawed world.
The two had been friends for so long. Since they were in preschool, probably. Rin couldn't even remember anymore. They had been through thick and thin together, and of course it wasn't going to end like that. Wasn't going to just slip out of her fingertips. Surely! Gumi's end wouldn't be so anticlimactic, so out-of-the-blue. She would definitely wake up, one day, and Rin would be right there when she did. Even if it was just for the briefest of moments. Because Gumi was her best friend. She cared about her more than anything or anyone else. That was just the way it was. They were inseparable, like sisters.
Rin crouched by the bed, careful not to disturb her dear friend. The girl's chest rose and fell so very slowly. Hands limp by her sides. She reached out and touched one, held it in her own. It was cooler than she remembered it being, and more delicate. Like a little bird, buried under the ice and snow of winter. Afraid to fly lest it move wrongly and suffocate. But, of course, hands can't breathe.
And, in that moment, neither could Gumi.