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The cold was getting to be unbearable, but the thought of spending another evening doing nothing in his shitty apartment was enough to force Mizuki outdoors. Even through his mask, clouds of wan mist turned a weak yellow by lanterns drifted out in front of his face. Knowing his luck, it would start to snow soon.
Although, maybe he wouldn't mind that. Snow was pretty, and he'd seldom had time to appreciate the beauty of anything in his life. A picture of Kiriko emerged into his head at that.
With her, he'd appreciated her beauty plenty, and then repeatedly chastised himself for it. There wasn't time for him to play around with a fantasy of a woman he had no chance with in the first place. As much as he wanted to believe that her kind actions came from a deeper level of affection, he doubted it. She was just a kind person.
The knowledge of what he'd inevitably have to do seemed to weigh on him even heavier.
He tried to distract himself with the aesthetics of Kanezaka, looking intently into every plank of wood, every lantern, every door frame. The traditional buildings were not ones that he'd seen often in Tokyo, and when he'd first came here he'd spent many days just wandering around and marveling at them. He'd grown tired of it, but now seemed to have no choice.
The sun had long since set, and Mizuki clenched his jaw at the sight of a Hashimoto gangster on the other end of the street. They merely gave him a nod and turned the corner. A debt collector, probably.
Despite his immunity, he always carried his kusarigama. It helped to keep up appearances, and it was a reminder of Toshiro. His brow furrowed at the memories of him. Where is he now? Still under lock and key, for sure. Guilt built up as pressure in his chest.
There was a bench up ahead, and he stumbled towards it like a crying toddler to its mother. It seemed like no matter what he did, there would always be a reminder of what he had to do - and what was on the line: his life, Toshiro’s life, the Yōkai. He flexed the fingers of his mechanical arm. A constant reminder.
Mizuki took off his kasa and lay his head in his hands.
The first of the snow began to fall. Gently, silently, it flitted onto the crown of his head, dampening it. He didn't care. If he froze to death, it'd be a funny story for the Hashimoto. It'd be a way out for him.
The next time Mizuki looked up, there was a thin layer of white all over the ground. Snow still fell with the same tenderness as before. He sighed, massaging his temples. It was surely time to go back to the apartment.
“Mizuki?”
He turned his head, bewildered. “Kiriko- It's late, why are you out?”
“I needed some air. I couldn't sleep, and I like the snow.” She shrugged. At least she was dressed for the snow. A furry red coat, thick gloves, a fox-eared hat. It put his own thin jacket and dramatically large hat to shame. “Why are you out?”
“Same as you,” he shrugged back, “but I like the snow less.”
“You could have texted me.” Kiriko sidled up to him, immediately taking his hand in hers. “No gloves?” Concern was etched on her face, and he looked down guiltily. The knuckles were bright red, the fingers almost grey, and it was trembling hard.
“I guessed you were asleep.”
At that, she frowned. “Like I don't text you in the middle of the night all the time! Even if I was, it's worth a shot, right?” She sat down next to him, rubbing his hand like her life depended on it.
“I guess,” he murmured, “just didn't wanna wake you up if you were.” It felt like too much of a privacy breach to do such a thing. Kiriko was Kiriko: friendly, ecstatic about the most random of things, no consistent sleep schedule. And he… Mizuki didn't know how to describe himself, but it most certainly wasn't her.
Envy overtook him suddenly, and he glanced up at her through half-lidded eyes. She was staring intently at his hand whilst she warmed it up, tongue stuck out slightly as she concentrated. The jealousy began to melt away, and be replaced with guilt again. He sighed.
She paused her movement. “What's up?”
“What?”
“You seem sad.” Kiriko said softly.
“I'm fine,” although his quiet tone definitely betrayed him, “look, Kiriko, you shouldn't be out here. You know the Hashimoto are patrolling-”
“Neither should you, then, Mizu.” She grinned. He didn’t reply. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a white carton before he could stop himself, immediately flipping Kiriko’s lips downward. “Oh, absolutely not.”
“Hey-” He didn’t even register what was happening before she’d taken the cigarettes out of his hands, tossing the box into the snow. “I paid for those!”
Raising an eyebrow, she returned to rubbing his hand. “Another thing you waste money on, then.”
Mizuki said nothing; what was the point when she was right? There must have been something in the way his shoulders slumped, though, because she vanished in a haze of blue, only to reappear a second later with the carton. She held it like it was an offering, an awkward expression on her face.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” He took it back, unsure whether to fIlip it open and indulge in his addiction.
“For doing… Y’know. It’s your property.” Kiriko’s fingers were laced awkwardly together, in a way that made Mizuki’s own ache just to look at. Setting the box aside, he leaned forward to pull her hands apart. His own was now somewhat warmer - or it had at least stopped shaking. She looked at him, lips slightly parted in surprise. He tried not to think about how kissable they were.
“It’s fine. It’s a bad habit anyway, I should really stop it.” Voice cracking slightly with embarrassment, he looked anywhere but her. You’ve been holding onto her hands for too long now. He dropped them immediately. Whatever reaction he expected from her, it was definitely not the chuckle she gave.
“I know I’ve said it before, Mizu, but you should really stop trying to hide how much you care!” She smiled, picking the carton up off the bench and sliding it into his jacket pocket.
“I’m not hiding anything!” It came out too quickly, but he said it with enough of a light tone that she didn’t notice. “I think it’s time to get somewhere warmer.” He added as the snow began to hit down harder in a flurry.
Kiriko craned her face toward the sky, sticking out her tongue and letting the flakes settle there. “The snow’s fun!” It was barely intelligible.
“Getting the flu isn’t!” But he was laughing.
She held her hands out towards him, and Mizuki took them without hesitation. Immediately, she began to spin him around, giggling at his surprised expression. Green hair began to slip out from beneath her hat, splayed in the air around Kiriko’s head as she whirled them around. The snow clung to her emerald strands, sparkling under the glow of the lanterns. Mizuki gulped.
This might be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
He held her hands tightly, grip shifting towards her wrists as he grew concerned that she’d slip and fall. Not that she wouldn’t be able to save herself from it, but he liked the idea of being there for her. He liked the idea of protecting her.
“Be careful, Kiriko!” He urged, and she just laughed, eyes sparkling in the low light. “I’m serious…”
“I am being careful,” she beamed, “are you?” In a dramatic display of irony, Kiriko immediately faceplanted. Mizuki couldn’t have crouched down any faster, cupping her face with her hands and inspecting it for any injuries. There was nothing but her bright red cheeks.
“Were you really being careful?” He murmured, voice deadly serious.
She rolled her eyes, averting them from his gaze. “Yeah… It’s just hard to focus.”
Without realising, Mizuki furrowed his brow. “Hard to focus? Why?” Gently, he helped her back up to her feet, looking over her gloves for where they might have ripped and left skin exposed.
“Y’know, it’s cold.”
“Mm, alright. Well, that’s a sign, isn’t it?” He glanced down the street, speaking quietly.
“Don’t say to go home.” Kiriko pouted.
Home. For her, yes. But he didn’t know what to call his apartment. It wasn’t a home, it wasn’t even truly his. He paused in the middle of picking his kasa back up, unsure whether or not he wanted their time together to end.
“I know what you’re thinking, Mizu!” Her bright voice knocked him out of his thoughts, and he turned back to her. There was a mischievous expression on her face. Inwardly, he groaned. “Just crash at my place.”
It was times like these he was thankful he brought the mask with him on late-night walks.
“Yours is way further away than mine, it’s cold, you said you don’t like the snow, and I can just tell by the way you’re hanging around here you secretly don’t want to end the night.” She grinned, poking his cheek. Mizuki raised his eyebrows.
“...Are you serious?”
“Duh.”
“Strangely enough, I didn’t bring my pajamas out with me on my walk.”
“Who cares? I’m not a creep.” Kiriko nudged his arm. “Only if you want to…”
“When you say it like that, it sounds like you’re a creep, Kiriko.” He tilted his head slightly, but allowed her to link their arms. There was an immediate flush to his cheeks and it felt as if an entire swarm of butterflies had been unleashed in his stomach.
She began marching them both along, sticking out her tongue on occasion to grab at the snowflakes that still fluttered through the air. “Did you know that snowflakes are fractals?”
“No, they aren’t.” Mizuki looked down at her, a smile visible in his eyes. “They’re fractal-like.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“I guess my dad lied to me.” She sighed, and immediately went back to catching them. Funny. Toshiro had been the one to tell Mizuki that fact. Maybe the similarities were just a coincidence after all. He forced a chuckle, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. “So how do you, of all people, know that?”
“What do you mean ‘me of all people’?” He deflected.
“I mean that you just don’t seem the type to know that.” There was no real malice in her tone, only lighthearted teasing.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Mizuki shrugged, the statement hitting uncomfortably hard as he said it.
“You do always say that everyone’s got something to hide,” she sighed, “one day I’ll find out your secrets.” She pulled herself closer to his side as the snow came in harder, plucking the hat off her head and slipping it onto his before he could react.
“Kiriko-” He started, hand already raised to take it off. But the mirthful look on her face stopped him. There was something too pure in it for him to even think of taking it off now. He pulled the hat securely onto his head and tightened the link of their arms. “I guess maybe you will one day.”