CHAPTER 89

I do not own skip beat! Yoshiki Nakamura does.

Into the storm part 2

His mind raced to the pace of his feet sprinting on the trails she left with a feared but hopeful staccato pumping inside his chest. And as his steps pushed forwards, battling against harsh frigid whooshes of wind in the night and in the snow, his mind ran back time. To feelings and moments that circled in his mind. To the life he had been living these five past years.

Before she came back. After she left.

How haunted he remained after. Reminded every day of her absence. No more "Tsuruga-san" greetings accompanied by deep elegant bows. No more scolding when he didn't eat or not nearly enough for her to consider proper. How would she have known from so afar after all?

For months after, his eyes had kept searching her in every crowd he passed by. His mind had known it was ridiculous. But his eyes hadn't been able to help the reflex induced by his deep down missing feelings.

His gaze had glazed over those countless unknown people, imagining her head popping up suddenly. As if she appeared, just like magic, where he wanted her.

His mind had kept replaying her unfathomable brightness when she talked about fairies, the way her eyes would shine in those moments. That gorgeous bubbly angelic smile when she would get excited about something. It had always been filled with life, and so much joy. And after she had left, it was like those elements had been sucked out fully from his existence.

He hadn't expected it. He hadn't expected it to be so bad.

The void. The loneliness of his heart. The chaos inside of him. Translucent faces and surrounding objects lacking substance and life, as if she had been the one to bring them to life. And without her, there had been nothing able to do so, to densify them into coherence, into solidity and colours.

The tores his core had kept withholding as it twisted about in endless longing. The emptiness inside, tearing restlessly against the situation, against what – who- it needed, and glaring. The pain deeming a gory sinister light on the lack of warmth his life had really been. Before her. And after she had been gone.

Time after Time, his car had continued to unintentionally drive itself to the old restaurant she had lived in. And once there, he would order something, just so he could touch something that had been linked to her.

Months would pass as he proceeded with his jobs and worked more on more on international grounds. And his mind would stay stuck, bonding every common absurdity snippets of life to her. Bikes would remind him of her crazy drive when she would be riding one. Food would be the hardest. And he had found himself either starving his body because any food would disgust him or eating more than he should in uncanny hope she would hear of it and be proud.

But as more time passed, he would come to realize it was absurd. Then, he began to cook. Well, tried to. Just a little. As a coping mechanism. Hoping against hope that if one day, she came back or when they would meet again, he would be able to cook at least some simple things.

Every second, every minute he could, he had passed them working. Acting.

Automated moves he would make. Day after day. Night after night. Shoots after shoots. Step after step.

Again and again.

His heart had been filled with a sorrow he failed to understand. To apprehend. Because his mind has been unable to comprehend, to fathom, that one could feel such a pain. To be filled with such a clueless agony he would often lose track of time, and had had to wonder is himself was he not becoming as sheer as his furniture had seemed to him at the time.

He would only feel alive when he was in the shoes of another, if unreal, being.

Yet. Not the same. Not ever the same.

Acting would remind him of her too. He could only love it even more than he did before meeting her again but the pure desire to play a role alongside her would strike back at him every so often. And sometimes a thought would occur to him in the face of some situations, of some act he thought would have needed work on. "She would have done better, she would have acted it better…" Or "She would have understood this." And it would continue, without respite. His brain had simply stopped cooperating. Not anymore. His mind would be a constant gambling mess. Only sentient around the edges, when lines or acting had been required.

When he compared to his time as a teen when he had thought he had fallen to the bottom. When he was only a shell pretending to shine in glamour and sparks. Pretending even more, in front o flashes and directors. Inhabiting characters, he would give life for a brief moment while he would put to sleep his own twisted self.

But this. This time had been less but also more.

The torture of this infinitely opening wound, now that his light was truly away, was so much worse.

He could not understand. How was he still going? Breathing? How could anyone go about with their life feeling this?

With their whole being, their soul, hurled and trashed as it screamed to be elsewhere. Near the one they longed for.

Yet, he was. And he had felt so wrong about it. He had gone on with his life, acting in England and in France and in Canada. But never where he had wanted those jobs to be. Near her.

And for each day he had succeeded in moving his life forwards, his fingers would roam. On his phone, on his laptop. Always booking. Then, cancelling. Day after day after day, he would do it.

Unable to prevent his acts but reminded he needed to respect her choices, to wait for her to be ready to talk, to see him. But each day of each month of each year that passed during those last five years he would book a flight to San Francisco, from whenever he would be at the time, and cancel it five minutes later. And the process would repeat on next day.

His fast stroll crossed over the path leading to the luxurious mansions further above, and he over-controlled his slipping with his legs as he met the whole falling of snow for the short distance he was out of the woods. The path wasn't huge, just enough to let pass a car, and he was soon on the other side and back in the forest. He knew his friends must have been behind, and that he must have lost them with his pace but he could not permit himself to slow down.

His mind wandered back to the past once more as he ran.

Thrice, that must have been the number of times he hadn't been able to stop and turn back once at the airport, taking a flight to go see her. Once, purposely joining a gig that would take place there. The other two times on sheer impulse. Yet, once he was over there, he would have got back his mind, and had managed to resist finding her place, just barely.

Even more time had passed, and he would use his acting as a weapon against the pain. The less he would be alone with himself, the less his mind and heart would wander or take control.

Coping mechanisms became an easy bargain to keep his sanity and had piled up like toys in a boy's room. Cooking to feel close her, acting to feel alive and not feel the pain, and jerking himself off to eliminate the frustration and handle the dreams that would haunt him more and more as time pursued its course. Then, the calls, hearing her voice. The few he would extort from her, anyway. When she would not be too busy or avoiding anything, including him, related to the past. The calls were the balms that had kept him sane. They had been short maybe, but enough to appease his greedy heart – if only for a few hours – , when they would happen.

And then, eventually, a little more than two years in, had come some outings. He had started to meet with colleagues in hope to take his mind off from the coldness of his flat and from his thoughts about her. But to his surprise, he made friends through them and even began to enjoy those few chill moments. He had even become close enough to a few of them to share some of his past. Like Taku.

Him, as well as Kijima and Koga – despite how annoying the last one could be – , had been the other thread that permitted him to stay sane when he wasn't on the go somewhere.

And then,

She had come back. Like that.

Bringing back his heart to life and his life with colours. And what colours! It had been a rainbow of luminosity. So much more vibrant, so much more defined. Her blossoming shining in every pore of her life. And keeping the beat of his pulse on the tip of his tongue, about to collapse out at every second with her, from too much stupor and awe. Reborn in those softening eyes of hers she turned towards him with each moment they spent together, reacquainting and relaxing as they drew close, more they ever were before. The sweetness of those instants turning soft thorns as they got closer, and closer but never trespassing the threshold of friendships. But those were spines he would gladly accept for all eternity as long as she was okay.

He would sign here and now for another five years of restless nights and agony if it meant she was alive, safe and sound and not hurt. Just the thought of … – otherwise pushed those last five years to a flimsy drizzle when faced with the possibility, the thought of – …

If she suffused any harm…

He didn't want to think about it. He couldn't handle that. She couldn't. Not her. Not ever her. Not his angel.

She deserved all the magic of the world. Never to suffer.

He stopped abruptly. He was seeing them. Two cabins. Not big but in good condition. But no trace of her.

Please…

He looked around but they were locked and darkened. And there was no sign of her being around. No matter how many times he circled them.

But as he looked closely, he finally saw footprints on the doorstep of one of them. Hers. He was sure of it. But snow had covered any remains of prints once you looked past that step. He had no clue in what direction she went.

No.

Fighting back the agonizing panic rising to further heights, he went back to the step and decided to follow the direction that footprint was pointing to, hoping it would give him some leads. He proceeded slowly, his pulse going in reverse to his annoyingly slowed steps. Even though, he knew he needed to. He didn't want to miss anything.

He advanced metres after metres, looking on the ground and around until he found himself to the side of the other cabin again, on the outer edge, near the two snowmobiles parked there. Just under huge pine branches. He guessed to protect them from being buried under huge bundles of snow.

But then he saw them. Marks of a recess, just besides the two snowmobiles. And straight prints leading away from it. There had been a third one. He wondered if she could really have found a way to start it without keys and all but then fell back on her footprints, and that convinced him. Those plate marks hadn't disappeared fully, yet. If he were fast, he wouldn't lose them. But, with how fast the snow was falling, he needed to use something else than going on foot.

The response was evident. The question was, had she found some spare keys hidden around or had she been able to catch the wires and meddled with them until the snowmobile started.

Now was not the time to discover that, however, and he simply bent and pulled out the wires. He might have been rusty but he was sure he would be able to turn it on. He took him a little longer than planned still, as he needed to avoid any snow to touch the wires. More exactly, he couldn't afford to let any humidity enter in contact with them if he wanted to avoid taking a discharge. He succeeded after a few more minutes fighting with them and with his urgent impatience, and was climbing on when his friends finally rejoined him. He briefly explained and asked if anyone knew about, where could be found the third cabin. He wasn't sure she would be there, and he would follow the marks for as long as he could. But it was the likest place she would be. He thought. Reaching back the station from here might have been too long, depending. It would take at least 45 minutes from here. At least. And the snowmobile might not have contained enough fuel. And even if it had, she couldn't be very fresh after how long she had been outside in the cold. The snowmobile he was on had enough to return to the station, anyway.

Since she had got onto this, it somewhat reduced the directions she could have gone to. So, it was one or the other. But he couldn't pass over the last cabin. The path leading down and back to the station wasn't cleared. She might have taken another path to lead back to it but with all the trees, it would have made it excessively slow.

With this weather, he needed precise direction to where it would be. Because if the marks disappeared at some point, he would still be able to pinpoint how close he was to it or in which direction to go. Hell, he wasn't even trusting the snowmobile fully. With the numerous pines and snow so high, he might have to make the last inches on foot again.

Kaï who had passed by all of the three cabins during some exploring in one of the past trips, told him it was a bit off-centred, but still nearby. A quarter at most, if it was hard to progress.

He vaguely heard Kijima's voice trying to make him wait for professionals but then, he was gone.

The snowmobile raced through more pines and other trees. Breaking the pace to each curve and turn before accelerating again. He couldn't go fast because he would hit a trunk. There was too much snow. Everywhere. Higher. And higher. Always. Controlling the handles were a fight of nerves and stability every single time. To not roll over.

Most of all, it was a fight of strength. He had to pull like a mad man to switch gears, to take the turns at the right time, and enough. And every single time. Again and again. The bent skis of snowmobile would threaten to get stuck into the heavy heaps of fallen snow all the time, and it was damn hard to avoid it. There was just too much snow everywhere. It weighed on those curved skis, despite how bulky and resistant they looked. He could barely get an idea where he was going with all the abrupt switch of directions. It was just a world of soundless white. Nothing but wind could be heard. Nothing could be seen but snow. White. Falling white flakes. Curving or straight but always white. Snow on trunks, snow on sides, snow on yourself, snow in your eyes. Snow in the distance. Snow up your size.

Orienting himself was like swimming in an ocean of cotton. With not enough colours. Not enough textures. Not enough contrasts. It was unnerving and using. His anxiety was reaching new highs with each passing tree, each turn taken without any sign of her, pulse beating at the break of lips as if his life would escape from his mouth forever and ever if he didn't find her. As if his breath could stay suspended on the edge of his lips, never leaving but never entering so long she wasn't safe.

His hands kept tightening self-compulsory on the handles. A light burn in his arms had started with how much strength he had to deploy. Was his vision blurry? He couldn't have guessed. It was too white. It was so hard distinguishing anything.

He shook off the fatigue just in time to avoid to violently ram into a pine. The mobile shriek at his rough handling but they were up and rolling, and that's all that mattered right now. That and her.

And then, just as he was scrutinizing the mere distance he could decipher around with his eyes, and through the speed and the trees and the snow, a cleared area. No forest there. And a cabin.

He jumped down from the engine and waist-high into the snow in an instant.

Four metres later. That's the distance he took him to be close enough to see two things. A snowmobile that didn't have much snow on itself, indicating it might have been used recently since it was unprotected from the weather. And two, a soft glow. Inside.

Inside the cabin.

Now, he was flying through the wall of snow that was the area around. Only one goal in mind. He still mustn't have been so fast – or the other had been quicker than he thought possible – , because he heard motorized sounds close by, just as he was closing the distance to the cabin doorstep.

When he did, he found the lock, that had apparently been on the door, broken, on the floor. It has been cheaper than the others, fortunately for whoever was inside. He wished it was her. He prayed it was her. But if it weren't, he would go back outside to search. He heard his friends making a path towards him much faster than him as they stepped into his prints.

He knocked loudly on the door. No response. He did again. Still no response.

Then and only then did he attempt the door handle, and finding it wasn't locked from the inside, he entered.

The slight warm of the inside greeted him instantly, even through a room still relatively cold. He turned the angle and saw a small fire burning in the chimney.

A human figure was lying down on its side, facing right at the fire and back to him, wrapped in a cover, they were shivering.

But there was no mistaking that curvy strong back.

The maniacal tremor that had been rattling his foundations inside of him – like an axis trick psychedelic nightmare – since he learnt she was somewhere outside, in the cold, shifted gears to an abrupt halt. And as her name left his lips in a relieved prayer, and as he watched the shape rose with some difficulty to a standing position, he felt his heart pulsing in reverse. Absorbing back the cold blood that had stayed rooted in his lower limbs like a dark miasma about to swallow him all. But now warmth was beating in his chest again, seeping, invading his pores, reminding him he was alive.

It was her. She was there.

She is here.

He had found her. She was all red and blue and looked exhausted but she was alive. She was alive. She was alive. She was alive.

§§§

She jumped up at the sound of her name and turned around, shocked to discover a very drenched, very much covered in snow, and very pale Ren looking at her like she was some kind of treasure-able ghost. She stood softly, carefully. She had recovered some sensations in her legs and feet a little while ago but she struggled to warm herself up, her clothes just refused to dry up, and she was shaking like crazy.

What?

Why is he here?

Shouldn't he be back at the cabin with everyone else by this point? How? Why? What?

"How – … How did you – ?"She let out, trying to make sense of the situation in her still somewhat fuzzy mind.

She had no chance to finish, though. The corner of her vision caught a blurry movement, action too fast for her retina to make the adaptation. A hard huge body collided with her own.

It crushed her quaking form against a freezing chest, big arms encircling her, and squeezing way damn too hard. She coughed feebly but she just had no room to use in any availability her mouth or lungs. Her legs which were tired and still slightly numb from the outside and the cold, gave out. She tapped on his back, trying to attract his attention and make him release her somehow. He only tightened his grip around her more. He seemed to realize he was supporting her whole weight a few seconds later, however, and she felt him peeking at her still grounded feet, no doubt thinking he had lifted her at first. When he got he hadn't, he accompanied their descend until they were both lying on their knees, and he let go of his hold, slightly.

She took a greedy gulf of air, ready to grumble at him for not letting her breathe but again, she did not get the time.

"Are you okay?! How do you feel? Do you have sensations in every member, every toe? Do you have fever? Since when did you get here? Are you cold? You are cold, you are shivering." He asked and asked, brushing her hair away to feel her forehead, petting her around, touching her here and there as if she was going to shatter any second. And she was even too tired to feel embarrassed or fuzzy he was touching her so much. "Your face is red, you have a light fever but nothing serious." He said after checking it and still feeling about everywhere he could actually reach standing on his knees, "Your cheeks are still somewhat cold and your body barely warmer than mine, we need to warm you up more." He said and started rubbing her arms vigorously.

She placed a hand on his face.

"If you shut up for a se-second, I could re-reply."She said with a smile despite her shakes, and he nodded before placing his palms on her cheeks, clearly to warm them further, and she placed her own palm against his hand. She let out some air, still shaking.

"You sh-should remove your co-coat and shoesss. You are in ba-barely better con-condition I-I came." She said between rattling teeth and he frowned, ready to protest. She remained firm, just arching a brow, and he sighed before quickly hanging his coat and removing shoes and drenched socks. He was back next second, his top pullover looking like it had escaped getting wet thanks to the coat, and the ski pants were waterproof, the outside already drying off. She was glad, he wouldn't risk staying drench at least.

He started rubbing her arms through the cover again with a deep worried brow marring his face. Why did he look nearly in panic? He wouldn't calm down. He kept touching her, like if he thought she would pop like a bubble if he didn't check all the time.

She was the one putting her hand on his face this time, making him look at her but not stop.

"I'm okay. I'm just tir-tired."She said through new shivers. "I'm still feeling so-some cold but yes, e-even if my legs are a bit num-numb, I have sensation everywhere. You don't have to wo-worry so much. How did you ev-even get … – there?"

"Wait. Your legs are numb? Let me see." He said. But the minute he slipped his hands under the cover, his palms fell on her wet clothes, and he stilled.

"Why are you soaked under? Don't tell me you stayed in those clothes?"He demanded with new urgency.

"Well, I didn't rea-really have a change … – with me."She commented lightly.

"We need to get you out of those."He stated and then he was moving, grabbing at her dripping pullover and already trying to remove it.

"What? Wait, no, no. Ren, stop. I have nothing un-under." She clattered through her teeth. "I'm okay, really. You don't need to look so wo-worried, fire will dry them out."She attempted as he just fixed her with an intensity that was a little scary.

"You cannot stay in those. You won't manage to warm up." He said with a rotten look towards her clothes.

"I'll be fin–" She started again but he just stood and began to haul his pull off.

"Why are you un-undressing?! You will be cold if you remo–" But he didn't listen and just knelt back in front of her before presenting her his pull. Then he stood again, and went to add wood in the fire.

"I'll be okay. I still have the long tee, and more importantly, my clothes remained dry contrary to yours." He said. "Plus, we are going to make a bigger fire while waiting for the others."

"Others? But ho-how?"She asked while she tried to dissimulate him more shudders.

He was back near her next instant, however, having finished packing the fire with more kindling and a few small logs. He crouched back in front of her and set his palms on the wood floor on each side of her legs, looking at her sternly.

"Later. I'll explain everything. But right now, if you don't remove any piece of cloth that is wet yourself soon, I'm going to do it for you, I promise you." He told her with a dark promise in the eye but an expression way away from joking.

"But – "

"No."

She sighed and nodded.

"Fine."

He turned around to give her some privacy, and she began the hurdle of removing her clinging wet clothes from her. Her limbs were tired and shaking so it was especially hard to get a grip, and she struggled for a while before finding herself in her undergarments. She passed on the still warm pullover, feeling his woody iodine scent washed over her as the soft cloth covered her. Despite herself, she felt her sore muscles relaxing at the new warm seeping in. It had been hours she was cold, and feeling a little heat on her body felt wonderful. She sat back by the fire and wrapped back the cover around her now nude legs.

She let him know she was good and he swiftly twirled around.

He said nothing, then. Just looked at her. Perusing. Analysing. Keenly observing her every reaction, looking at her remaining shudders, receding a little but still present.

He displaced himself closer then, until his long body was sitting by her side.

"How are you feeling? Do you feel a little warmer? What about your legs?"

"B-better." She said. And she did, a little. But she also still felt cold.

He watched her for a second, his eyes sad then sighed.

"Let me see your legs." He said suddenly, his shoulders looking nearly as anxious as before. She didn't understand. Couldn't he see she was fine? Sure, she was still a bit cold but it was nothing that serious so why…

"Ren, I'm o-okay, a little cold won't kill me, I'm – "

"No, you are not!"He snapped, and she jumped a little. "You ran the mountain during a storm for hours! You could have died! You could have frostbite! You said your legs were a bit numb!"

"Well, I – "

"Don't tell me you are fine!"He shouted again with a glare.

"I have sensations in them." She said at last, trying to reassure him.

" .See."He demanded, and she sighed before discovering her calves to him.

He fixed them in silence, staring at them with a frown, even seeing as clear that it was not as bad as he had made it out to be.

"See, it's – "

She stopped in her tracks when she felt the warmth of his palm against her legs. It was really unfair he had already managed to warm up so much. Though, she had to be honest, without wet clothes, it was far easier with just the fire.

"They are so red."He said in a low tone.

"But no frostbite, see?"

He looked back at her.

"Even further. There is no place that stay numbs or hurts?"

She shook her head.

"You promise?"

She smiled slightly, and nodded but then froze.

"What are you doing?"

"Warming them."He said as he rubbed her feet and calves.

"There is no n-need. I'm alrea-already much warmer."

He didn't listen. Just continued in silence. But even when he eventually stopped, looking more satisfied with how it looked, he didn't relax. He just settle back near her, observing her every few seconds.

She called to him. Once. Twice. Trying to attract his attention to her eyes, despite how often he was looking at her with that keen analyse of him.

She grabbed his hand, then.

"Hey. What's the matter, Ren? I'm okay, you know? You don't need to worry so much. And look my hands are finally warmer." She said, shaking slightly they joined hands to make him look at them.

He looked at her hands and he looked at her. She felt shock course through her as she saw the feeling lodged in his eyes. Terror. He looked terrified. A solidified maelstrom of darkness twirling in his eyes in a grim blur. What shadows was he seeing? What did he look like he was about to shatter around the edges? What did he look like he was holding himself in one piece? But only just. By the scraps. Why did he look so sad?

One of his mighty hands lifted and the back of his long fingers grazed her temple, her cheek, clearing a few stray strands away. Barely a touch. Barely a feeling. So light and discreet. In full opposition of the tornado of emotion, she thought she could see in his eyes.

It tore inside of her.

She should have noticed something was wrong.

"You could have died…"He let out in a low rumble of murmur but his words echoed harder than if they had been thundering in the room. Crystalline in their depth.

She should have understood.

There was a short intake of air on his side.

She should have seen he was not okay.

"I'm sorry…"She said at last. Because, now she got why it was so hard on him. Why his worry, his panic were so big. With how he had lost a friend.

And then she said.

"I'm alive, I'm okay. I'm alive."

She saw the impact of her words when he froze, as if he had been waiting confirmation on her living statute, just before dropping his head on her shoulder, as if a thread that had been holding him straight was cut loose. Then, his oversized arms were around her again, squeezing her, crossed over her back, holding each of her shoulders in the huge grip of his hands. And despite the strength and power she knew inhabit those broad shoulders of his, she could see they were trembling right now.

She stood on her knee caps and hugged him, rubbing his tense back. Then, she kept repeating that she was alive, that she was okay.

"I'm sorry for wor-worrying you so much. I'm sorry."She said once more and after a little while he finally relaxed and looked up, giving her a hard stare. He grabbed her face harshly in his hands.

"Don't ever scare me like that ever again! You could have been far less lucky! You could have – … If you had – … If you hadn't found shelter… God, I thought…"

She placed her hands on his face again, making him look properly at her.

"But I'm ok-okay. See, no damage done."

He just frowned at her still chattering teeth.

"Your hands are still a little bit fresh, plus you are still shivering." He said.

"No big deal. I will be okay in no time."

"It's because you are too light when caring about yourself and not being egoistic enough that you rushed into a storm! So yes, big deal!"He grumbled out, fuming some more, and she grimaced sheepishly, having to grant him that point.

"Okay, let's try this. Here." He said, as he circled her body before sitting behind her, one leg on each side of her body, and her front faced to the fire. He made her lean her back against his check and wrapped his arms around her again. "There, no room for cold to stay."

She looked back, opening her mouth but he cut her.

"Don't you dare say there is no need for me to do this. There is. You need it. So, you are forbidden to not use me!"He ordered her and she pinched her lips, trying to not laugh at his wording or his grumpiness but also too tired to argue about him being overprotective, or muster the actual laugh.

She rested her face against his shoulder, finally feeling her body was warming up correctly. Even if she was still shuddering a bit, her teeth were stopping to chatter.

"Thank you."

"Ren?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for looking for me."

He just tightened his hold around her.

"How do you feel?"He asked once more.

"Better. Warmer." She said with a yawn. "Cosy. You are too comfy."

He chuckled. At last.

"Happy to oblige." He still felt her forehead as he said this, no doubt checking if her light fever had risen.

"Overprotective."

"Clearly not enough. Since you rushed into a storm while I wasn't looking." He grumbled, still unhappy, somewhat.

She snorted.

"You are not my guardian. You are not responsible of my mistakes."

"You went out looking for me!"He said, as if it was the worst of the worst. An infamy.

"I thought you were in danger."

"You should have verified more!"He said and she could hear that odd desperate anger in his voice again. Still, he didn't have to say it like that.

"I was worried for you! And I know."She still conceded. "I acted stupidly."

"It could have cost you your life!" He gripped again, and she rubbed his arm, feeling it was less the anger than just the last remains of worry talking.

"I'm too tough for that." She said lightly, trying to alleviate the mood, despite her tiredness.

"You would better!"He replied in a hard rumble and pecked her head roughly.

She laughed, and she felt him relaxed a little more.

Her mind got fuzzy soon after and she only remembered the safe soothing scent surrounding her.

PS: Hello everyone. I hope you are all well and happy. I'm sorry if it took a while. I caught covid. That damn bug annoyed me for a while. I'm better but it slowed me down. Also, this chapter was really hard writing. The switchs between emotions and storm got to me at some point, and i was afraid to have miss some of the mood or atmosphere because of it. I hope you will still enjoy it. That i've done it justice. I tried to make it realistic while also keeping a little a drama. I have some experience in mountain and my sister is a ski trainer. So, i'm not just babbling my mouth. Still, don't forget it's still only a fiction. Kisses to everyone. I hope you will love it.

Someone asked to know more about Ren while Kyoko was away, i think i replied your question. Somewhat.

See you soon, hopefully.

Kisses.

Mimagfan,

AUTHOR OUT.