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It is beginning to snow again.
Large, delicate clusters of flakes that cascade slowly to the ground. The kind Sorey loves to walk home through in the evening. It means that tomorrow there is likely to be snow enough to build something on his front yard. He could make an igloo and drag Natalie out to play in it.
He walks down the street with slow, leisurely steps. He is warmly dressed and enjoying his walk home for a welcome change. The school term is coming to an end, and he finally has the time to breathe and calm down after his final tests and projects. When he gets home, he plans to sit on his couch with something warm to drink and something sweet to eat, and watch all the documentaries he has previously not had the time for. At the last lecture today he could hardly contain his excitement.
The street is dark, having become so very early in the afternoon because of the winter, and the streetlights highlight it with a pleasant glow. Sorey breathes in the cold air and feels at home. He quite likes the winter.
The peace and stillness of it is suddenly interrupted for him by a loud shout, startling him.
"Snowball!"
Sorey ducks his head on instinct. He staggers in his walk and looks around, on his guard for any stray frozen projectiles. He sees no one else with him on the street, and his confusion mounts steadily.
"Snowball!" he hears again. This time he can pinpoint it as further down the street, close to a large yard with a lot of trees and bushes. He walks past it every day on the way to and from school. It is a man yelling, but he cannot see him yet. He can only hear his voice echoing in the distance. The guy has a good set of lungs on him.
It does not sound like a warning. More as though he is trying to make it as loud as possible. Sorey is more than a little intrigued.
He walks towards the sound, his curiosity overriding any other thought that might pop into his head. He is not usually wary of strangers, and this time is no different. It is not far away, as he could already see the trees as silhouettes in the darkness. He comes to a stop by the hedges that frame the yard, just by the corner. He stands there and waits, seeing if he can catch the sound once more.
Sure enough, there is another yell from further away. It seems to be close to the hedges though. Sorey jogs down the sidewalk, wary of the thin ice that lies in puddles around his feet.
He catches sight of a dark figure on the other side of the hedge. He is far enough between the streetlights that they do not quite reach him.
"Snowball!" the man shouts again. Sorey comes to a stop, feeling even more confused. What is this man doing yelling 'snowball' out in his yard anyway? Besides that, how does one start a conversation meant for asking that question?
The dark figure shouts again. It is much louder at this distance. Sorey winces.
Before he has the time to think it through, he opens his mouth.
"Uh, snowman?" he yells, with far less volume than the previous shouts. It startles the other man, and he turns around to look at Sorey in confusion.
He takes a step closer, and now Sorey can make out the shape of him. He looks to be Sorey's age, with light coloured hair and wide eyes.
"What?" he asks, utterly perplexed. Sorey, feeling very awkward, shrugs his shoulders and puts his hands in his pockets.
"I don't know. Are we not playing some odd winter version of Marco Polo?" He grins sheepishly. The guy blinks, smiles very carefully as he gets the joke.
"Sorry, buddy. I'm looking for a cat. I accidentally let him out and now I have to find him."
Sorey hisses through his teeth. "Ouch. That sucks. How long ago did you lose him?"
"Ten minutes ago," the guy says, looking miserable. He takes another step closer, and Sorey suddenly notices something very upsetting about him. Sorey frowns.
"Hold up. Are you out out in the snow in a t-shirt? Why didn't you put a jacket on?"
He sounds more than a little outraged, because he is. The guy shrugs, wrapping his arms around himself and shifting on his feet. He is wearing jeans too, the poor guy.
"I need to find the cat. My roommate will kill me if I lose him permanently."
"You'll get sick if you just stay out here," Sorey argues. The guy raises an eyebrow at him that looks almost annoyed. The guy crosses his arms.
"I'll die if I let the cat get away. She really loves him."
He looks really guilty, and Sorey instantly feels bad for him. He sighs.
Edna often tell him that he is too much of a good guy. He feels inclined to agree at the moment, because it seems that his documentaries will have to wait a little longer for him tonight.
"You said his name is Snowball," Sorey says, looking around the dark yard even as he makes up his mind on the spot. "What's he look like?"
"He's entirely white," the man says sadly. Sorey hisses again.
"Those aren't very good odds." He takes another look around. The snowfall is getting quite thick. It is gathering in their hair and on their shoulders as they stand there together.
"I know," the man says. He seems more bothered by his worry than by the snow slipping under his collar, but it bothers Sorey a lot. "A dark and snowy back yard is pretty much the perfect escape route for him, but I have to try. I have to."
Sorey nods. He slips his backback off his shoulders and walks closer to the hedge.
"Back up a step," he says, and tosses the pack lightly over so that it lands gently in the snow. The guy takes a wary step back and watches as Sorey readies himself for a second and then leaps over the low hedge, using one hand to vault it properly. He lands on the other side and brushes off his now snow-covered glove and sleeve.
"I'll help you look," he says, and brushes gathered snow off his jacket. He then takes it off and walks up to the other man, visibly surprising him by brushing him off and then slipping the jacket around his shoulders.
"You don't have to-" he begins, but Sorey interrupts.
"It physically pains me to see you running around in a t-shirt in this weather. Take the jacket until we find him."
Sorey is wearing a sweater anyway. He will stay warm for a little while longer.
"The cold doesn't bother me that much," the guy insists. Sorey fixes him with a stern look.
"You want to have that argument or do you want to look for your missing cat?"
The guy sighs. He reaches up to slip his hands and arms into the sleeves. Sorey's jacket dwarfs him somewhat, he seems to be considerably thinner. Up close like this, Sorey cannot help but notice that he is quite pretty as well. His light hair has a blue tint to it, and his eyes are an interesting shade of purple that Sorey has to tear his eyes away from. He coughs awkwardly and turns to face the house in the middle of the yard.
"I'll keep checking the hedge. You go look by the bush clusters." He gestures towards them, planted some distance away by the house. "He might not have gone that far."
"Thanks," the guy says. "You really don't have to."
"Is that an argument you would rather have?" Sorey smiles smugly. He has adamantly made up his mind at this point. The man rolls his eyes, accepting defeat.
"I'm Mikleo," he says, smiling warmly. "Thank you for helping me."
"Sorey," he replies with a wave. "and don't thank me yet. We gotta find him first."