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If he forgets the bitter cold running through his body and just looks at the snow flakes falling softly, he can imagine they're the familiar flower petals from home where they would fall and it'd be just a bit warmer, rather than what they are, where he is. Daikaku lets his legs stretch out in front of him, digging into the pocket of his uniform and is rewarded when he finds a pack of cigarettes and pulls one of the remaining two out, placing it in between his lips.
"I didn't take you for a smoker, Chūi," says a familiar voice beside him, which makes him look up instantly - almost dropping the precious cigarette in haste, letting it get dampened by the snow.
He clears his throat awkwardly, looking away from Weismann and focusing his gaze in front of them. "I don't really..." he starts, the words getting lost somewhere in the whiteness of it all and the soft light that's surrounding them, the night dark save for the few emergency lights and the ballroom behind them, letting the stars shine brighter than usual.
"Fine! it's fine," Weisman says with a laugh, his voice happy and bright as he sits down right next to Daikaku on the steps to the dance hall, not worrying about his suit or anything else before he helps himself to the last cigarette in the box, a grin on his face as he moves it around like a baton, using it to emphasize his words. "I'm only surprised. Chūi's usually so straight laced and serious, but it makes sense when you think about it, eh? Besides, being surprised is fun."
When Weismann smiles at him after this, Daikaku wants to as well but his mouth won't make the movements. He's felt heavier since he's donned the military uniform and it's affected him in so many different ways, but one of them has been that he rarely does smile, and when it happens it's almost a shock to himself. Instead, he nods quietly, no arguments about what the other man has said as he takes his lighter out, and lights Weismann's cigarette first. He moves to light his own, but the cool metal is slipped from his fingers in an easy movement, and Weismann does it for him in return, eyes crinkling as he still smiles, before slipping the lighter back into Daikaku's hands, their cold fingers touching.
They sit there on the steps, snow falling around them as they smoke, Weismann kicking his feet a bit and jostling the snow at them, humming. Other than this it's just the sound of their inhales and exhales, the faded out noise from the party in the ballroom behind them, and companionable silence. He appreciates it, and knows Weismann's giving that to him as a gift, rather than making a conversation when they could be having this together, and shows he knows Daikaku well.
When they're both done, Weismann lets out a happy sound, stretching his arms out and standing up and for a brief moment Daikaku thinks he might be leaving him to return to the dance inside, but he's wrong. Instead there's a hand reaching out to him as he looks up, and sees the doctor standing there, waiting for him to take it.
Weismann looks as though he could fade away into this night, the snow still falling lightly and coating everything with white. The Lieutenant wonders if that's why he reaches for his outstretched hand, for fear of losing him along with the smile that reminds him that he can smile sometimes, too.
"Ne, Chūi. Why'd you leave the dance?" There isn't any malice in the question, and Daikaku wonders if there could ever be from anything Weismann says or does. Instead he's met with an odd look, the two of them standing close, before he realizes they're still holding hands from Weismann helping him up and lets go, his fingers immediately missing the warmth.
He gives a small shrug, taking a glance back at the ballroom and then meeting Weismann's eyes again. "I can't dance," he says bluntly.
Weismann laughs, covering his mouth and Daikaku waits for him to be done before the other man holds his hands up in apology, which then move to brush snow off of his own formal military jacket, Weisman's eyes moving back and forth from his work to meet the Lieutenant's gaze. "Sorry! Sorry, I'm sorry that was rude of me. It's just that that's what I love about you. You're very honest, Chūi. Most men might've thought about saying something else, but you didn't even pause." He finishes, tugging at the lapels of Daikaku's jacket with a satisfied nod.
He'd wanted to dance, earlier. Even though it was difficult to wrap his head around the idea of military balls, or having a night solely dedicated to celebration during these times, he understood that his men needed it for morale's sake, at the very least. Claudia had asked him and he'd refused politely, knowing that her disappointed face would've been more than that if he'd ventured onto the dance floor with her. After the moment of cajoling she was able to give him she was quickly swept away by another official higher up than he was, and he'd left not too soon after. How Weismann had noticed with all the people and commotion he wasn't sure, but he appreciated the company.
"And you, Dr. Weismann?" he asks, voice with more of a teasing note than usual as he tilts his head a bit. And he isn't quite sure, but the corners of his mouth may be curved upwards, ever so slightly.
"It isn't obvious?" Weismann asks with fake shock, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. "When my sister says I never leave Chūi alone, she isn't wrong." He chuckles, before moving as quick as any of his soldiers could and getting behind Daikaku, pushing at his shoulders and guiding him down the stairs. Daikaku obliges.
They end up on the street level, only lightly dusted with snow as Weisman moves back around, and moves his arm perhaps too theatrically before he ends up at almost the same pose he'd had a moment ago, when he'd held his hand out to help Daikaku stand. The Lieutenant raises an eyebrow, the question already on his face.
"Everyone can dance, Chūi. So please allow me to demonstrate this scientifically proven fact."
He still doesn't know why he takes Weismann's hand again, eyes focused on the smile in front of him, and barely realizes his feet are moving as the other man sets the pace. There's warmth in him again, he's sure, and it isn't just from picturing the cherry blossoms from home.
"And please, call me Adolf when we're not in the lab," he says quietly, tone more serious than usual as the two of them move with each other, step by step, snow still falling.
"Ah," the Lieutenant says, finally understanding. "You may call me Daikaku, then."