Disclaimer: I bear no relations to this anime or it's owner, Yuki Kure.

Blah. Len is so out of character! Nn...

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A snowflake landed upon his cheek.

The young man brushed it away impatiently. The frost from his glove didn't help the cause, as the piece of cloth was was nearly stiff. Ah, yes. Just his luck, to be here in the cold. He had been sitting there, in that worn, painfully cold chair, waiting. His arms lay limp on the small table, his head drooping in fatigue. Strands of gray-blue hair fell into his face, not helping to warm him, as it seemed a bit of frost had accumilated on his head, also. Of course; he had to have been waiting for an overly unpunctual person. In the blistering cold weather. Alone.

It was below freezing outside that day; typical of winter. A snowy glaze had neatly fashioned itself on the ground around the teenage boy. Even in his overcoat, he shivered underneath, unable to resist the harsh temperature. And it seemed even more ironic that the cafe he had neatly perched himself near was full and near bursting, leaving the only availiable tables outside, in the cold. The boy was tired, and his skin popping up rapidly from the conditions that he had landed himself in. He half expected a few blisters to form on his icy palm. Oh, those damned freezing cold conditions.

The young man scowled. Anger welled up inside him, and he began to wonder why the hell he was outside in this weather, anyway. It felt like evident suicide, to sit here in the cold. No one else was outside, as the other tables were barren. He must've looked like an idiot, sitting at an outdoor cafe table. Oh, no; the rest of the town's population were curled up inside their comfortable homes, or, as was the status quo, inside a packed and unstable store with an air conditioner. These thoughts flowed through his mind, tantalizing the boy. This was perfect. Freezing, snowing... The indoors were calling him. That huge manor he lived in had at least half a dozen fireplaces, all asking to be lit in his favour. The only people that would be running around in this weather were ditzy school girls, too caught up in the beauty and romance of winter to realize...

... Romance? He felt the colour rush to his cheeks, perhaps the first time his face had felt warm in the last few hours. Had he actually thought that? Romance? Idiotic, he steamed to himself, I'm not here... because of romance.

No, he couldn't be there because of that. He had only invited her to join him here, just for a casual meeting. It had never crossed his mind it would've been so cold, but... No, not for the sake of romance.

His gazed meandered to one of the store windows on the strip across from him. It seemed winter apparel was the current theme; many bright designer jackers and coats lined the windows, their colours tempting ignorant passer-bys to sport one. It was supposedly amazing there still were window displays, as the boy saw several people squirming about behind it. Of course, better in a trendy clothing store than outside on a rusty chair that was two sizes too small for you...

Something bright caught his eyes; ... something red. Yes... it was a deep scarlet jacket. The coat fit neatly on one of the mannequins featured in the windows, showing off its gorgeous stitching and colour on the doll's torso. His mind went blank. That colour, the stance... It was familiar. But what person he had known could be associated with this red... ? An image filled his mind.

The young man's face was soon the colour of the jacket. That girl, his fellow violinist, her hair... it was red, too. A luscious red... deep and full, and his fingers clasped as he imagined what it felt like to run his own fingers through her hair, her beautiful hair... That beautiful girl... The reason he sat there in the freezing cold.

This girl he knew... She attended the same school as him. Though, it was to say that many other girls he had become acquianted with attended the same school as he, so why was she to be picked out? Maybe it was because of her skills for music and violin playing; mediocre as they seemed, they were advanced. Of course, how else would she have competed in the same competition against he?; he, as far as he was concerned, the most notable violinist at their school, and maybe the town, as well? Though, music escapes him when his eyes meet her. Divine flowing red hair that fell to her shoulders, deep brown eyes.. So filled with emotion, this girl was. ... Romance... red... And it was she.

Another snowflake landed on his nose, though this time he refused to notice it. His mind was too engulfed in hs thoughts of her, and he would let nothing allow them to escape. You see, they helped him forget the cold, and the impending death-by-ice...

He jolted awake from his trail of thought. He shouldn't immerse himself in pitiful thoughts of love. He probably didn't love her, anyway, oh no! It was infatuation. A pretty girl with a bust could establish a firm thought in any young man of his age, and he was not to be an exception. No, this girl, she wasn't going to overwhelm him. And even though he had asked her to meet him here, at this spot... It was only for business, to discuss the competition. Otherwise, he would be practicing, not daydreaming of stupid fantasies. Fantasies weren't for him, anyway.

Though, at that moment... He couldn't help but spew his eyes to the chair beside him. She could be there now. Her figure, deep red hair and all, sitting closely beside him, leaning lightly on his shoulder as she allowed him to play with a strand of her hair. And he saw her lock eyes with him, as if he would be lost in a sea of auburn, as she utters quietly," I love the snow, don't you, Len?" And suddenly, the girl moves forward--

"No!" he says to himself angrily," No, damn it!" The boy grinds his teeth, embarrassed. No, never... this girl... wasn't his. He wanted her, but he... She couldn't love him. He didn't suit her, as much as... he wanted her...

"L... Len?"

A voice. The young man was thrown from thought. His mind completely wiped, his gaze was stuck to the ground. The voice he knew. Red, the colour that flooded his face... Romance, what he longed to taste for himself...

His eye flew upward; there she stood. Her hair was loosely adorning her shoulders, flowing freely from her head and neatly parted from her forehaed, giving a clear iew of her pale face. And her eyes... Puzzled, but beautiful, as he always imagined them to be when he dreamed. Deep pools of auburn that could comfort...

"Hello... Kahoko," he said to her quietly, lifting himself from his chair. He straightned out his jacket; impressions, impressions.

"It's, um... very cold outside," she commently blankly, her eyes focused on the inside of the cafe.

"It is. Of course, with you keeping me waiting all this time, the temperature is rather obvious to me." His voice was much colder than he had wanted it to be. Damn.

"Well, I'm sorry, then!" she said to him angrily," But I'll have you know, my sister was sick with the flu, and my mom had to work all week, so I--"

Len never really caught the rest of that sentence. At that moment, his cerebral functions had apparently stopped existing. His brain wasn't moving him anyore; it was something greater. For his hand was lifting itself from his waist. Fingers flexing, it moved outward, to hers. Len could feel his mind sweep had his palm brushed against Kahoko's, giving such a tingling sensation. Her hand was caught in his.

"I love the snow," he whispered to her puzzled face. Actually, at this point he quite hated the snow. But whatever romantic spur he had gave him the guts to say such a thing. Something pretty for a pretty girl.

Confusion became embarrassment as was reflected in her eyes. Her face was glowing scarlet, but she didn't pull away from him. Instead, she muttered something blankly.

"Yeah... me too."