The storm outside howls loudly, gleefully heralding its evolution to full-fledged blizzard to the NPCs of the Afterlife.

The school building is old. Even the heater has not been fixed yet, the Guild are going to fix it, but there aren't much skilful mechanics in Guild other than Chaa, the night is too cold to fix it anyway.

Yui isn't cold. This she swears, as she has been swearing all day, and then turns her back to blow into hands so white that the delicate tracery of veins can be seen beneath their translucent skin.

She is shaking so violently that people are noticing that her chains are starting to shake.

Night is falling, meaning the temperature will drop another ten degrees or more.

Yui's patrol area is at the rooms at the top of one of the school's tallest dorms.

This, Hinata decides, is so not going to work.

"Just until we decide how to warm up your room without burning it down," Hinata says in that reasonable tone that makes Yui want to hit him.

Yui is going to refuse. It's kind of him to offer, but the cold hasn't killed her yet (and really, there are so many, many worse ways to die), and one more night up in the empty corridors won't do the job.

"I have a fireplace, Matsushita Go-dan built it a while back." Hinata adds with a predatory grin.

Hinata always fights dirty.

Yui had minced her way down the stairs in a tempest of protests.

She had been rendered momentarily speechless at the sight of Hinata's plush and very warm bed, and the fire in the grate across the room from it.

"We have this room all to ourselves since Oyama is out on a mission. You can take his bed."

She'd pointedly not watched as Hinata had stripped down to a pair of pants and nothing else, and had flatly refused to remove more than her socks and sleeping robe. She'd then gotten into bed and curled up as far away from Hinata as he could without falling off.

Now, she is snuggled tightly into the curve of Hinata's body, her arms around her husband's chest, and those cold little hands are wound stubbornly into his hair. Her forehead rests against Hinata's clavicle, with that roughly cropped tumble of pink hair spilled like silk over Hinata's shoulder.

It's really all Hinata can do to not burst out laughing.

When Oyama and Fujimaki arrive that morning to drag him forcibly out of bed, he is amazed, amused, and more than a little bit disturbed to find their friend and his closest friend suggestively tangled with the sheets and each other.

Rudely awakened, Hinata just lies where he is and gives them that look.(Yui is, mercifully, still asleep.)

"We don't want to know, do we?" Fujimaki ventures.

Hinata just goes "pfft" and then starts laughing.

Yui is sulking. All through breakfast, she remains sullen, scarlet-faced, and silent. That is, until Hinata sits down next to her, grinning broadly.

"I hate you," Yui announces baldly.

Hinata's smile widens. "But you were warm, right? Mrs. Hinata?"

Yui kicks Hinata under the table.