Cold hands, yours to hold

Winter drapes across Miyaji when the yearly light event draws near - a moment many eagerly wait for... just not Kyōtani Kentarō. Frosty air, packed streets, emotional fluff? Nah, that's not him at all.

Yet when Yahaba Shigeru offhandedly asks if he wants to meet up during the park event, Kyōtani oddly agrees - then keeps replaying the idea over and over. While part of him didn't expect to care, now his mind won't let go.

Kyōtani arrives before time, standing beneath a shaky light while snow falls slow and quiet. It's no big deal, he thinks. Not really. Only something said once. More like a task than anything else.

Yet as Yahaba shows up trembling, Kyōtani reacts without thinking - hands over his jacket, stops him from falling, stays near so their fingers touch each time they pass.

While moving along lit-up walkways, past frozen art shapes and falling snow that softens the noise of people, they get closer - not fast, not smooth, but it's happening.

For Yahaba, this is a night he's waited on.

For Kyōtani, this is a night he won't ever say mattered.

Beneath glowing holiday bulbs and soft flakes drifting down, a pair of kids act unbothered - yet find comfort in the chill. Perhaps, deep down, they'd already been moving closer way before tonight began.

Slow burn. Mutual pining. Soft touches. Quiet confessions.
A cold evening when feelings finally show themselves, yet no one tries to look away - instead, everything just spills out like it's meant to.