You and I [Completed!]

Snow

December arrived, bringing with it icy winds and pure white snow that heaped on dried branches of trees, misted windows and made the streets glisten with frost. Hands went numb, cheeks a dark shade of pink and eyes watered whenever a gust swept by. Yet, it wasn't gloomy. Christmas was in the offing. Stores and shopping centers put up lights and Santa Claus- shaped cardboard cutouts to lure the customers in. Hanami, who it seemed was often intrigued by such colorful displays, one day returned home with a big box of wired lights.

Arata had no interest in pointless decorations and festivals, choosing to spend the time with a bottle of wine and some good smokes. Despite that, he did not interrupt or look up from the newspaper when he saw her stepping from one room to another, tape , scissors and wire in hand. Eventually, she touched his shoulder, asking for help and the man let out an exasperated sigh.

"You said you won't get me involved."

"Please?"

He huffed but stood on a table nonetheless and helped her put up the lights. They framed the window, forming a box dotted with flickering gold- and that was that.

Hanami smiled and stepped back to get a better look. She clasped her hands together, looking pleased. "Good work... We can even have a small party with chocolates and tea, no?"

Arata shook his head and stepped down. By now, he'd grown somewhat used to her whims and even though he never openly admitted it, the lights did sweep away the gloom. When she turned, he noticed a piece of decorative tape stuck in her hair but decided not to tell her after all.

He settled into his seat before the television. In the background, he heard a dull ringing of her phone. There was silence for a moment, then came the frantic closing and opening of closets and drawers. Hanami stepped out in a brown coat and a scarf wrapped around her neck. Her purse hung limply by her side.

"I have to go to Kyoto,"she said.

He looked at her for a beat. "What's the matter?"

"My father collapsed."

Arata took a slow breath, and stood. He didn't know what to say or do- especially when the woman showed no expression of any kind. Instead, he reached for the car keys. "Let me take you there."

Hanami nodded.

The distance between Tokyo and Kyoto was close to five hours- that, if the roads were clear and the route was known. Luckily he had a rough idea of which road to take. Hence the only problem left was the snowfall.

In the car, Hanami was quiet. She hid her palms in her pockets and kept her gaze turned away from him. Arata, who had no experience in consoling people, kept silent as well, occasionally casting glances towards her.

It snowed. The wipers went left and right, left and right, repeatedly. They stopped at the gas station after an hour and quarter. Even then, Hanami did not utter a word. She rubbed her hands, blew over them and curled in her seat. Arata offered her tea but it was politely refused with a shake of her head.

It was close to four in the morning when they made it to the hospital. Cold and exhausted, but not as weary looking as Mrs Izuko who sat on the bench, head lowered, hands folded in her lap. Hanami walked up to her, bent before her mother and held her hand. Her voice came out even and soft. "How is he?"

Mrs Izuko clutched the hand. "The doctor says it's difficult. His heart is weak."

Hanami nodded and sat down on the bench. He noticed she was clutching the edge with a grip that made her knuckles go white- as if holding onto something in a world that was slowly falling out of balance.

Arata inquired about Mr Izuko's health to a man, the store manager standing at the side. He had been the one to find him collapsed.

He led the man away from the women. "What was the cause?"

"Mr Izuko was stressed for quite a while. Apparently, the new shop business wasn't going well. Some food mart opened right across ours and the customers naturally flocked there."

"I see... "Arata nodded. "Are the bills paid?"

The man shook his head. "Only the initial amount."

The sterile, phenyl-soaked smell of hospital mixed with chilly winter air. Hanami, sitting straight beside her mother, still clung to the bench and stared ahead at the door. It was white with a single porthole like window. She wanted to rise and peek inside, to look at her father- but the thought of him prodded and poked with needles and tubes, living on borrowed breath, frightened her. It suddenly dawned on her that he was old. And that, they had very few shared memories. In those memories too, she only saw his back turned to her. That straight, taut back , which had slowly shriveled and bent into a curve when she was too angry and distant to pay attention.

Her eyes closed.

Inside the room, the monitor stopped beeping and the little pulsating triangles flattened to a straight line.

At some point, Hanami's eyes opened and she realized she couldn't breathe. Her mother had fallen asleep next to her. The store manager sat opposite, eyes closed.

She rose with a hand clasped to her mouth and hurried down the staircase, wishing to get out of the hospital where the air wasn't acrid and heavy and liquid like. Outside, it was snowing. Small, delicate flakes landed on her hair and cheeks. When she got to the parking lot, a faint smell of smoke touched her nose.

Arata stood leaning against the hood of their car, looking at nothing in particular. When he saw her, he dropped the cigarette and stamped on it. The red glow diffused into gray ashes.

"Needed something?"he asked, stepping closer.

She whispered a "No" and stepped away.

He caught her by the hand, eyes searching her face. "Hanami?"

"Let me go."

"...Where are you going?"

"Let me go, please, I can't breathe..." She pulled her hand from his hold, "I can't breathe."

"Alright, calm down for a minute–"

"I can't breath!"

"Hanami–"

"I'm scared," A broken sob left her lips. "Father is..."

"Your father is fine. He's doing well, trust me, alright?"

She shook her head and kept heaving, feeling her throat tighten bit by bit. A strong grip held her by the shoulders, keeping her steady despite her palms pressing against him.

"It's all good. Look at me,"he said, "Look at me, Hanami."

Her panicked gaze flitted from the white gray blur of snow to his face.

"Breathe,"he said.

She stared at him, lips parted, sucking in the cold coarse air. A breaths in and out, her shoulders slumped. Palms hitherto pushing, came to rest by her side. Now, only quiet tears trickled down her cheek. Tired, she drew close and curled in his hold, taking in the smell of smoke and scent. A gentle hand touched her back.

"It's all good."

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