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The soft crunching of snow and minimal vegetation ruffled as the two walked through the brush, their eyes scanning for anything they could find.
Something shiny poked through the snow, catching the girl’s eye.
“Sugimoto,” She tugged gently on his sleeve, causing him to let out a soft hum and turn his head. “Look! What’s that?”
Sugimoto watched as Asirpa waded through the plants and over the strange, shiny object, only to see… it was a bento box?
“Huh.” Sugimoto muttered as she walked back. “Odd to see a bento box around here. Someone must’ve dropp-“
He stopped, froze as he saw what was in it. Asirpa paused her rummaging to glance up at him.
Dried Persimmons.
He gulped.
“What is this?” Asirpia spoke up, holding it closer to give it a sniff, only to crinkle her nose slightly. Sugimoto simply grabs the container, accidentally spilling a few pieces. Hastily picking them up, he did his best to hold back his emotions, which were bubbling within his chest.
Asirpa pops up, trying to see what he was doing. “What is it?Sugimotooooo—“
“Dried Persimmons.” He chokes out, sniffling as he tried not to cry. His memories flash back to visions of home, and visions of the other night, when he and Asirpa shared the warmth of the reindeer carcass.
Clenching his fish, his furrowed his brow and dried his face. He needed to be strong.
“Do the persimmons make you sad?” He heard from behind him in the most innocent voice. *God damnit.* “That’s okay.”
Sugimoto hesitated, then slowly turned back to see Asirpa looking at him, and what he saw in her eyes nearly made him burst into tears on the spot.
“Here, here.” She held a hand out for the box, and it took him a second to hand it over. She gave them another sniff, then took a bite, then blinked in mild surprise.
“Sit, sit.” Sugimoto shuffled as quickly as he could to sit down beside her. He paused as she handed him a persimmon, hesitate to even touch such a relic of his past.
A sigh sounded from the girl as she set her own portion down, holding the clean persimmon piece in her hand.
Slowly, she took Sugimoto’s hand, which felt warm and welcoming around hers, holding the strip between their hands. As she let go, she left the persimmon in Sugimoto’s hand, then glanced up.
As much as he tried to hide it with the shadow of his hat’s brim, it was clear to her that he was crying again. But it didn’t bother her.
She gently slipped her hand into his free hand, wrapping her fingers as well as she could and gave a gentle squeeze. He let out a hitched breath, not even daring to lay eyes on the dried fruit in his hand.
Aspira went on, happily munching on her slice of dried persimmon as he sat there, frozen. That was until he sniffled, then slowly held his slice up to his mouth.
’If you ate dried persimmons… I wonder if you could go back to how you were before you went off to war.’
She had said it so carelessly, right as she dozed off. He was sure she wouldn’t remember by now, seeing as it was days after. He let out another fluttering breath before finally taking a bite, and breaking into a weak sob as the taste hit is tongue.