Iba was once a very open and outgoing person, however something changed one evening;

It was late November and snow was falling down heavily from the sky, layering itself over the slush and ice already packed down on the flat surfaces of Tokyo, Japan.

Iba opened her laptop, sent a message and closed the laptop again. The message was short and to the point.

Dear Nana,

I am at a friend's house- I will not be home tonight because of the snow.

I am safe, please eat without me.

-Iba

In all truth, Iba wasn't even hungry, she had eaten earlier that week because some guy had been staring at her ass on the last train and then made snide comments about her lipstick color and how it made her look like a 'tipsy hooker who had to use crayons instead of makeup'. However the real problem was with what might happen when Iba lay down to sleep on the floor of this temporary home.

"So, I think these are all the blankets I have…" Uta came from the back closet, holding a rather small stack of blankets and a couple of pillows in his arms. "Do you think you can make do with this?"

"Yeah, I can make it work." Taking the blankets and pillows, Iba began to arrange the items in a sort of nest form on Uta's living room floor; the two had been hanging around his shop all day, trying to design her second mask it. It was going to be a ceramic full-face mask with metal plating that created intricate lace designs and little butterflies that swarmed around her eyes and mouth.

"Are you sure you don't want to take the bed?" Uta had been stressing since the wind started to whip snow onto the windows of the apartment that he didn't need to sleep in the bed.

"No thanks, I really don't mind sleeping here, if you had a couch though." Iba looked around the room again, minimalistic surroundings, TV in the corner, table and one wooden chair, a rug was on the floor, the kitchen was decent, the only problem was the fridge was barren and their were heavy black curtains over the windows.

When Uta finally decided that arguing was now futile, he retired to his room and assumedly went to sleep. Yet within 2 hours the snowstorm cut out the power, which in turn, cut out the heat to the entire building, block and neighborhood.

Iba woke with a start; she was shocked by the cold and when she looked down she felt as if her toes were frozen solid. Getting up she wrapped the blankets around her and walked slowly towards Uta's bedroom. She thought as she walked nearer to the door that perhaps it was a bad idea, and paused, then started to walk again, then pause and walk again. Yet when she finally reached the threshold she looked into the darkness, put her hand out to feel the wood, breathed in and sighed before she turned the door handle and walked in.

"Uta?" He stirred only a little bit at the noise.

As Iba moved closer, she hesitated more, questioning why she was doing this, but then though to herself that if she had gone this far, that she should continue.

"Uta wake up," laying a hand on his should and gently shaking him, Iba's breathe hitched when he turned around with his messy bleached hair and face, eyes, red from lack of sleep.

"Wha-" rubbing his eyes sleepily, Uta looked at Iba through the pitch black and sighed. "What's wrong now?"

"The power's out…"

"Oh. Okay then." Uta rolled onto his back, and pulled back the covers, not that Iba could see.

Hearing the sheets rustle, Iba felt around and slipped in between the covers with Uta, curling up to him.

"Thank you."

Uta wrapped his arms around Iba, kissing her forehead, cheek and temple and hugging her tightly.

"Uta, we shouldn't…"

"Just relax, I'm trying to keep you warm."

The rest of the night fell away under the blankets, touching, cuddling, kissing, it was all so sweet and dream like- but now, now there was a real issue.

"Uta," Iba looked at him from across the room. "I, I-"

He stared at her, practically begging her to go on.

"Do you remember the night when I stayed over?" She didn't even wait for a response, "her name is Shamira, she'd be six now. I-I miss her, but she has parents that love and take care of her; in the USA."

Uta looked to her as if he was going to cry, but couldn't, he seemed to have words in his head as well, but couldn't use them properly. The two stared at each other for a good ten minutes before Iba fell apart; her silent tears of regret were now loud pitiful sobs as she leaned against the metal doorframe, sliding to the floor.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go, she was supposed to be strong, brave, a fearless woman like her mother and grandmother. She was born from one of the most prestigious families, known for surviving no matter the consequence- and yet here she was, on the floor of the mask makers shop, crying like a baby, regretting her ever