The cold wind brushes over my freezing skin, stinging it, burning it to the core before whisking away every last trace of warmth. But it's alright; I'm not sad. Can I tell you that? … I guess not…This icy breeze seems to have stolen my soundless voice. But… if you listen carefully, you can hear them: words from my soul, heard over the sharp shatter of glass. Words for you. Even though I know I can't now, I want to sing a kind song. You know the type; it resonates in the air. But I can't force my blue lips into any shape remotely characteristic of syllables. Oh… What's this…? Tears…? Why am I crying? Please, nii-chan! Hold my hand until I reach the end of this darkness!
Oh…There's a beautiful light…It blots out the dark…Hah, cliché, right, nii-chan? We would never have used something like this in a song.
…
Hey, nii-chan?
…
Thank you.
-X-
The boy stands alone in the frozen wilderness, clutching the one he loves—no, loved—the most. His hands desperately seek a sign of warmth, some obscure proof of life. He sees, for a fleeting moment, the breath of the living in her eyes, before they cloud over with the fog of death. Fleetingly, her voice resounds in his mind, whispering a thank you he doesn't deserve. He lifts his gaze to heaven as the tears fall down his face, and he lets the woeful scream fall onto the white snow.
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