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Maekawa had seen alot for her age. She was 9 and dealing was literal PTSD from watching the life leave her mother’s eyes and having her father’s death at her own hands. Foster care was tougher than she imagined, fights, squeaky beds, and even more than she wished she would forget.
...
“Hmm...” I mumble into my pillow, my mind still foggy from dreams I can’t remember.
The knock on my little door interrupts the haze.
“Azusa, sweetie?” Mrs. Higashigaki’s voice chirps.
“Hi!” I call, my lips stretching into a sleepy smile.
She peeks her head in, her warmth spilling into my chilly room. “I hope you’ve been enjoying the peace and quiet, but we have a new friend who needs the spare bed. Would it be okay if you two had a sleepover for a bit?”
I sit up, rubbing my eyes and taking in the sight of her. “S-sure, Mrs.!” My gaze drifts to the little boy hiding behind her legs, gripping a tiny, fluffy snowman plushie. He’s got the kind of white hair that reminds me of the clouds outside.
“What’s his name?” I ask, curiosity bubbling in my chest like soda fizz.
“Ah, this is Shishikura,” she replies, gently nudging him forward with a smile. I can see a little bit of fear in his eyes, and that makes my heart clench a bit.
“Hey, Shishikura.” I wave him over, my own heart thumping loud in my ears like it always does in these moments.
He nods but stays put, clutching that snowman like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. It’s like I can sense a bit of the same weight I carry in those big grey eyes of his.
I scoot to the edge of my bed, letting the soft mattress squish as I pat the space beside me. “It’ll be fun, I promise!”
“o-okay...” the tiny boy whimpers as he gently settles onto my bed.
“what’s wrong with you?” I ask bluntly, not really grasping why his little face looks so hurt.
“that was mean,” he mumbles, running his delicate hands through his pretty white hair.
“you look sad,” I grumble, not knowing what else to say.
“I'm just scared of this place...” he whispers, casting his gaze downward.
That’s weird. This place isn’t all that bad as long as you keep to yourself... But before I can hold back, my arms wrap around his shoulders, and my head finds a comfy spot on his chest in a tight hug.
“it’ll be okay, snowman!” I giggle, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll protect you from all the bad guys!”
“h-huh?!” he squirmed, letting out a little squeak. “m-my name isn’t snowman, it’s osamu!”
“it’s a nickname, silly!” I’m practically bursting into giggles again, feeling his heartbeat thump like a tiny drum beneath my chin.
He wriggles a bit, his cheeks turning a soft pink, and I can’t help but feel all mushy inside. “you can’t just give me random nicknames,” he stutters, his voice wobbling like he’s trying to be serious but failing miserably.
“but it's so fitting!” I tease, ruffling his hair playfully. “just think about it—snowman! you’re cute and cuddly and a little chilly and you pout alot.”
“that doesn’t even make sense! Snowmen don’t pout” he insists, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“just... don’t call me snowman too much, okay?”
“no promises!” I giggle.
....----....
“SNOWBAAAAAALLL,” I groan from across the apartment, my voice echoing through the chilly air.
The bedroom door swings open, and there he is—eyes wide, looking all scared and cute.
“What?! I swear you sounded like you were dying! I thought you were having a heart attack or getting murdered!”
“Im soooo cold... come cuddlee,” I whine, wrapping my arms around myself like that’ll help.
He hesitates for a second, his brow furrowed, then slowly makes his way over, shuffling like he’s unsure if the floor is lava or something.
“Seriously?” He narrows his eyes, trying to maintain that little tough guy act, but I can see him softening.
“yeah! you know I can’t handle the apartment in December!” I pout, kicking the blankets off dramatically, revealing my overly adorable pajamas covered in cartoon robots.
“fine, fine,” he sighs, rolling his eyes, but there’s a smile creeping onto his lips.
I giggle as I scoot over, giving him space. the second he lays himself down in my warm blankets, he wraps his little arms around my neck, his cute little nose nestled in the crook of my neck, warm and cozy.
“you’re like a little marshmallow,” I tease, feeling him snuffle softly against my skin.
“mhm, and you’re my favorite no matter how many time you call me stupid,” he murmurs, and I can’t help but smile, even if I pretend to be annoyed by the words tumbling out of his mouth.
“ugh, you're sooooo sappy or whatever,” I whine, pulling the blankets up around us, my cheeks probably betraying my act of annoyance as I snuggle closer.
“the soft glow from the pretty fairy lights wraps around us like a cozy blanket, making everything feel softer and him look— well, ethereal as ever.
“just admit it,” he whispers, tilting his head to meet my gaze, his eyes sparkling like the lights above.
“i guess...” I gasp, feeling that warm flutter blooming in my stomach.
he giggles, the sound bright and sweet, before pressing his lips against mine with a softness that makes my heart skip.
“thank you for being here,” he mumbles, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes, the warmth of his breath tickling my skin.
“i wouldn’t be anywhere else,” I reply, my fingers brushing against the delicate strands of his hair, feeling the electricity between us.
“i should have known,” he quips, a playful smile stretching across his lips, “i mean, who wouldn’t want to be under the fairy lights with me?”
“you’re ridiculous,” I chuckle, unable to fight the grin creeping onto my face.
“mhm,” he nods, winking, “but you love it.”
“do i?” I tease, leaning in closer, invigorated by the sweet air that lingers between us.
“admit it,” he presses gently, those sparkling eyes daring me to succumb. “you can’t resist.”
“fine, fine!” I laugh, feigning exasperation, “I love you, okay? happy?”
“very,” he smirks, before crashing his lips back to mine, the fairy lights flickering in comprehension as they dance around us."
“i really do love you,”
“i mean it, snowball” I whisper, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, the warmth of the moment wrapping around us like a cozy blanket. “you’re, like, my favorite person or whatever.”
“just my favorite?” he teases, his voice playful, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, the corners of my lips tugging upwards.
“okay, okay— my absolute favorite,” I correct, feeling a soft blush creep across my cheeks. “happy now?”
“yes!” he replies again, this time with a smile that’s entirely too cute.