The blistering cold, the dampness in their coats, the doubt in their minds—it all was swept away by the gentle breeze that caught them each swing. Back and forth, both at separate speeds; they had to look in the opposite direction to catch the other's eyes. Nezumi slowed to a stop after several minutes, leaning on the thick chain of his seat while he watched Shion zip higher into the air. The white-haired boy was laughing, jubilation spread from ear to ear. A blush adorned his cheeks, and warm breath rose from his lips.
Shion made a motion as if he were to jump from the seat, but decided better of it and threw his legs out, slowing to a stop. He rocked back and forth minutely, flashing a small smile at the dark-haired boy.
Nezumi stayed put long enough to return a smile before he leapt from his seat, bolting across the snow-covered playground towards a tall metal jungle gym. Before Shion could even untangle his hands from the swing set, the grey-eyed boy was halfway up, climbing quickly.
"Hey, wait up!" Shion chided, darting after him. He threw his hands onto the cold metal and started to climb. Nezumi was already at the top, smiling down coyly. Though the taller boy had made the climb appear easy, Shion found it difficult to manage on the slippery bars, shuffling upwards in his clunky boots. He heard a laugh above and expected to find Nezumi pointing down at him comically, but felt his heart flutter when Nezumi graciously held out a hand to help him.
With Nezumi's help, Shion hauled himself up atop the jungle gym. At the top, he carefully sat down across the bars. Nezumi settled down beside him, staring skyward into the swirling snow. Shion did the same, wincing as cold snowflakes bit at his lashes. Lit by the light of the moon, the falling drops shone like stars. Eyes up on the sky, Shion had the impression that he was racing through space, spiraling out of control into a whole different world apart from his own.
A hand closed over Shion's own. He tore his eyes from the star-like snow, targeting his attention on the boy beside him. Nezumi's eyes were still skyward, however. The wind rippled his hair, his scarf, shadowing his eyes. The grip on Shion's hand tightened and the boy returned it. Neither spoke for a while, breathing in the chilly night air. Somewhere a bird chirped, and the sound of wind whistling through the barren trees hung close.
But the quietness clawed at Shion's ears. This was pleasant, sitting, watching, enjoying one another's presence—but he had so many damn questions that he burned to ask! "Nezumi, what are—" was all that he could make up before he almost toppled over.
A large gust of wind bit at them, tossing snow and ice into the air. All very suddenly, Nezumi's scarf billowed up, dancing in the breeze, before it was caught completely. There was a jerking motion as the fabric tore away from Nezumi's neck, riding in the breeze.
Nezumi swore loudly, leaning against Shion as he attempted to grab at the fabric. It skittered teasingly away from his hands, however. The two watched vainly as it tossed this way and that before snagging on a tree branch clear across the park, past the swings and tires. It waved tauntingly at them from afar.
The grey-eyed boy almost flew down the jungle gym. Shion slipped down after, unable to conceal a laugh as he followed the boy.
From a distance the scarf had seemed within an easy grasp perhaps, but up close, it was much too high up for either to reach. There were no suitable branches for climbing, either. "How are we gonna get it?" Shion muttered, still trying to dispose of several chuckles rising up as he saw the seriousness in Nezumi's eyes.
Nezumi rubbed at his chin, frowning thoughtfully. "I have an idea!" he said suddenly. He turned towards Shion with a wicked grin.
Before Shion knew it, he was up on Nezumi's shoulders, violently teetering in all directions as he attempted to balance. "Hold still!" Nezumi insisted, holding the white-haired boy's knees as he flailed.
"I-I'm trying," Shion insisted, slowly reaching up a hand as he managed to sit upright. He fumbled with his fingers overhead, still rocking uncontrollably. "I can't reach it!" The scarf was but an inch too far away.
"Hang on," Nezumi sighed. With a grunt, he took a careful step forward, angling up on his toes. Shion gasped with surprise, rocking forward as Nezumi swayed. His hand finally met fabric. "Got it!" he said, gripping on tight.
"Alright, now—" Shion supposed Nezumi was about to talk him back down from his precarious perch on the boy's shoulders, but the explanation was quickly made unnecessary. Shion started to fall backwards, bringing the scarf, and Nezumi with him straight into a neighboring snow bank.
Shion hopped back up onto his knees, spitting out snow. He heard Nezumi sputtering beside him, blowing out his lips in a frustrated way. "You get it?" he asked.
Shion broke his hands free from the ice, finding a snow-sodden, but for all the effort intact scarf still clenched in his fist. He turned around to Nezumi with it in hand, waving it in front of the boy's face teasingly. Nezumi was still lying on his side in the snow with a rather irritated expression on his face.
His face was wiped clean by a smirk very quickly. "Idiot," he said with a laugh, taking the scarf back from Shion.
The park became boundless for them. Excited, full of life, they hopped from one area to another. Swept around the swings, over the tires, and towards the teeter totter; Shion flopped down on one end and waited for Nezumi to occupy the other, but was disappointed and frustrated when he heard Nezumi pacing in the opposite direction. He turned to find Nezumi climbing up a larger circular hill, where a slide poured out the side. It was covered in crisp snow, untouched but by the wind. It crunched underfoot, scattering glowing particles into the light. Shion turned full around, watching with a grin as the boy recited a poem, arms spread dramatically wide. Each word mimicked a song of its own, carrying with long, deep notes that sunk into Shion's ears, sending shivers down his spine. Though the white-haired boy listened very intently, he found it difficult to recall the actual words as Nezumi voiced the remaining notes, allowing his voice to trail away with the whisking snow. The melody, the wavering of his voice, it all stuck close to Shion's memory like a dear thing. The words themselves were lost, however, into a song much more meaningful than them; a tune that held much more heart. He was hardly aware of Nezumi sliding down the slide, stepping forward to grab him by the hand and sweep him over to the other end of the park.
The park was now completely scattered with their entwining footprints. The moon was high in the sky, hardly visible through the snow-heavy clouds drifting by. Nezumi suddenly let go of Shion's hand, prancing away with a devious grin on his face. Shion paused, curious, when he quickly noticed Nezumi reaching down into the snow, scooping up a handful. Laughing, Shion quickly turned and ran in the opposite direction as quickly as he could, reaching the tree line. He turned around just in time to see Nezumi pull back his arm, throwing his weight forward as he hurled the ball of snow in Shion's direction. Shion watched it rise, higher and higher into the air, coming his way. He quickly guessed its range, wobbling about with his hands out before him. He thought that he had it, that he could catch it—
And his hands closed tight on brittle bits of the broken ball, as the remainder struck him clear in the chest. He laughed.
"What was that?" Nezumi said, with a chuckle breaking through his tone. He was walking towards Shion with one hand in his pocket, and the other wrapped around a new ball of snow that he juggled in his hand. He shook his head disapprovingly, grinning.
Shion stooped down and scooped together his own snowball. "I just wanted to see if I could catch it," he said, holding his snowball defensively against his chest: his only weapon against the prowling, grey-eyed boy. "I did catch a little bit of it!"
Nezumi paused, quirking an eyebrow. "Catch this, then!" he suddenly burst out. He hurled the new snowball forward.
Shion could only raise his arm over his eyes, snickering as the snowball struck his elbow. "Hey, I'd like to see you do any better!' He retaliated, aiming for Nezumi's grin. All smugness was stripped from him as the ball whizzed past Nezumi's head, falling with a faint plop behind him.
"Oh, I think I can do better than that," the grey-eyed boy said with a purr of threat in his voice.
What started with a single snowball quickly transpired into a full blown snowball fight. They made forts out of the playground, ducking behind the teeter totter, hiding around the slide, slipping behind neighboring trees. Though Shion did manage to hit Nezumi a couple of times, the taller boy was a much better shot. He was also much better at hiding. Shion had a nasty habit of sticking out like a sore thumb, leaving well over half of his body in clear striking distance whenever he assumed that he had found a good section of snow drift to squat behind.
Despite how much fun the battle was, however, Shion was beginning to grow tired—and very cold. If his coat had been damp before, the barrage of snow being hurled at him had not helped at all. He was chilled to the bone, shivering all over. His hands felt numb with cold. Still though, he felt warmer than he had in many months.
Nezumi seemed to realize Shon's reluctance to continue. He tossed aside a last snowball and walked over to the shorter boy. They stood there, paces apart, looking one another up and down as cold breath rose between them. "Well, where are we going now?" Nezumi asked, slipping his fingers into Shion's own. His hands were nearly as cold as Shion's—perhaps the same temperature even—but the embrace itself warmed him.
Shion paused, feeling his face blush. "G-going?" he asked, startled.
Nezumi gripped Shion's hand still tighter. "You mentioned your home earlier," he said. The boy was looking far off, lost in thought. His grey eyes caught the light of the moon, intensifying thesomber expression that they held. Though he was smiling, the taller boy's thoughts seemed trapped somewhere dark and guilty. His grip on Shion's hand strengthened.
Shion's face now felt as hot as coals; his heart was fluttering. He looked down, embarrassed, as he returned Nezumi's gesture with a tight squeeze of his own hand. "You really want to come back?" he asked. "You won't leave?"
But before Nezumi could even answer, they were already walking back. Their feet were traveling back towards the bridge, through the bits of rumble that lay there in the snow. Though the footprints that led towards the path were split, arching in opposite directions, they took the same road this time, hand in hand, step by step. It was not until they had crossed the bridge and were beneath the lights of the streetlamps that Nezumi even uttered a single word in response. The answer he gave was short, but warmed Shion to the core.
"No more good-night kisses," he said quietly, still not looking at the white-haired boy.
No more good-night kisses, Shion mulled in his mind. No more leaving one another for foolish reasons. No more time left waiting, wondering when the other would return—if they would. With his fingers wrapped tightly around Nezumi's, woven together as if they were the very fibers of the dark-haired boy's scarf, Shion found himself unable to imagine ever being away from this man again.
Perhaps the only thing that could stab into his quiet dream were realistic reminders of what waited at home. He wasn't sure exactly how he was going to explain this to his mother, that he had gone out for a stroll, and come back with the most important person in his life.