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As Nanami stood on the veranda of Mikage shrine, watching the snow fall, her thoughts drifted to the flashes of memory she’d experienced earlier that day while passing through the twelve torii gates. She couldn’t remember much, but she did remember that someone had said they’d loved her. The voice in her memory was muffled, far away, but there was an air of familiarity to it. She couldn’t quite make out the face in the memory, just that it’d been someone much taller than her, someone in traditional Japanese dress. Someone who reminded her of Tomoe.
Turning around, she looked inside the shrine, her eyes falling on Tomoe. It had only been a few minutes since she’d made the comment of perhaps getting married someday, after which he’d averted his eyes, his cheeks pink. Even now, he kept his eyes down, the color still tinging his complexion.
Something about Tomoe’s expression made her heart beat a little faster. She wanted to get him alone.
On impulse, she spoke to him. “Hey, Tomoe, will you help me make sure the path doesn’t freeze?”
His eyes snapped to hers, his face flushed. Instead of replying, he nodded. She listened to his footsteps on the veranda before he came to join her on the path. Neither of them said a word until they were out of earshot.
“I wanted to ask you something—” she began, and she noticed out of the corner of her eye how his whole body locked up. “Oh, no, it’s nothing bad!”
Shooting her a sideways glance, he asked slowly, “What is it?”
She clasped her hands behind her back and beamed at him. Even though her face was getting cold and her fingers were going numb, she didn’t care. If Tomoe had been the one to speak those words, she had to know. “Did you ever say that you loved me?”
His breath hitched before he could even sputter out, “What? How ridiculous!”
A pout played on her mouth, and her eyes half-lidded. “Tomoe.” Again, he froze, but this time, his eyes were trained on her. Here, she took a step closer, until she was right before him, staring up into his face. “I have this crazy feeling, that’s all. I feel like you told me you loved me.”
“Then you must have dreamed it,” he said, but his wide eyes and the downward turn of his mouth made her think otherwise.
“I don’t think so.” She peered up at him and drew her toe across the walk in a semicircle. “Well, um, do you?”
His mouth opened and shut, and then he turned his head away, bringing a sleeve up to his mouth, half hiding. His eyebrow twitched. “This is not an appropriate conversation to have. We have visitors to prepare for. You called me out here to check the path.”
Opening her mouth, she breathed in and prepared to complain that he was deflecting, but he gave her no opportunity to do so. He scurried away, leaving her where she stood, eyes enlarged. What did he have to be so nervous about?
Perhaps he did love her after all.
—
Tomoe didn’t re-enter the main shrine until a few minutes before midnight. By that time, Nanami had busied herself with the prayers she’d received early. Even after the festival they’d held a few months prior, attendance was still below average. At least that meant she’d have some time to enjoy New Year’s with everyone.
Things wrapped up shortly before two in the morning, at which time Mizuki and Mamoru had long since passed out on the cushions before the TV, snoring away. Although tired, Nanami stepped outside again to check on the snow. It was still falling, the soft plips of snowflakes hitting the edge of the veranda and melting seconds after they’d landed. An icy wind blew, and she shivered, hugging herself. That was when a warm, fluffy blanket draped over her shoulders, followed by arms that held it shut in front of her.
At first, she stiffened, but then she caught Tomoe’s scent — an aroma like spices and tobacco — and she relaxed. He didn’t pull away.
“You seemed cold,” he mumbled, as though dismissing the gravity of this act. This drew a giggle from her.
“I am, but the snow’s so pretty.” She tilted her head up at the same time he tilted his down. The smile she offered him was radiant, and he returned a tiny one of his own.
“Would you like to watch it for a while?” he asked. When she nodded, he squeezed her around the waist, and then released her despite her utterance of protest. “I will bring tea.”
This shut her up. She watched him retreat into the shrine, his warm touch lingering against her body. Slowly, she sat on the veranda, the golden column of light from the shrine spilling out over the yard, illuminating it a few feet. The light reflected off the snow, almost glowing.
Moments later, quiet footsteps approached. A weight fell behind her, and a hand offered her a mug. With a small word of gratitude, she accepted it. One of his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her close, and her heart started pounding.
“You must not catch a cold,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing in her ear.
Mouth dry, she nodded. She leaned back in his half embrace, acutely aware of his solid chest and the gentle sound of his breathing. For a few moments, they remained silent, sipping their tea. The whole time, she couldn’t tear her attention away from his arm encircling her middle.
The snow fell harder, and another gust of wind swirled the crystalline flakes like a shaken snow globe. When she shivered, his arm tightened around her, and she relaxed. Despite the cold, her eyelids felt heavy. But before the night ended, before she fell asleep, she wanted to share a final moment of closeness with him. Maybe he wouldn’t tell her with words, but he’d never been shy about physical affection.
“Tomoe?” she said, voice just above a whisper. When he hummed, she felt the vibrations in his throat. “Is it okay if we kiss?”
She felt his chin brush the top of her head as he looked down at her, and she turned hopeful eyes up at him in return. “What for?”
“It’s just...a thing some people do on New Year’s,” she mumbled, recalling a scene from one of her favorite books.
“I have never heard of this tradition,” he mused, taking another sip of tea.
“Well, can we?”
His eyes flicked down to her, and she held her breath, heart thumping. Carefully, he set his cup down. Instead of speaking with words, he tilted her chin up. Her inhales came shallower, tremors rippling through her body as he leaned in closer, his breath falling against her mouth in small, humid puffs. Her lips parted, and then his mouth met hers. As her eyes fell shut, she returned the pressure, keeping it tender, chaste.
This time, there was an undertone to his kiss she hadn’t felt before. Maybe it had something to do with the fact they held each other, but she didn’t think she imagined it. Because, this time, he kissed her like she was the only girl in the entire world.
The memory flickered back, now to the forefront of her mind, and she realized — it had been him. A breathless laugh escaped her, muffled by their lips, and suddenly she didn’t feel so cold anymore.