Mamoru found Usagi seated by the arcade's picture window.
"Odango?" he asked when she hadn't turned at the sound of his footsteps.
"Yeah?" she breathed, still not looking at him.
Mamoru frowned, confused she hadn't yelled at him for using the dreaded nickname. "What are you doing?"
"Watching the snow fall," she murmured dreamily. "It's so beautiful."
So Mamoru looked. He saw the street and stores and pedestrians, just like he did everyday. But then he looked closer, at the small white flakes, falling from a cloudy sky. It wasn't sticking to the pavement, but . . . there was something hopeful about it, like a promise.
"It's kind of magical, isn't it?" Usagi said softly, echoing his thoughts. Mamoru returned his gaze to her. She had yet to turn away from the sight before her, but maybe if she had looked up at him, he'd have the courage to voice the thought running through his mind.
Even the first snowfall isn't as magical as you.