Cold

The only trouble with rice paper windows, Okita thought, was the cold. It crept in while you were asleep, and when you woke up, your toes were frozen and your nose was about to fall off. Fortunately, Okita sometimes had someone else in bed to keep him warm.

Not today.

Lately, the futon they shared had been exceptionally cold.

Words between them had been colder.

Okita's face pressed a pillow. Inhaling, he became aware of the faint scent of smoke, pipe smoke from the days when the cold hadn't been a problem...

Okita frowned. His feet were freezing again.