Characters: Renka, Yuki
: She had loved the winter.
: Renka x Yuki
: I don't own The Record of a Fallen Vampire.

She had loved the winter.

Renka remembered this, the same way he remembered everything about Komatsubara Yuki—from the chestnut undertones of her rose-colored hair and eyes to the strong cadence of her bold voice. It wasn't like he could ever forget anything about Yuki, not when her reflection had been stamped inside his eyelids. How could he forget, when he saw her every time he shut his eyes?

It was snowing now—Renka stood out in the nearly blinding cold, hands chapped, alone even on a crowded sidewalk. Pedestrians, the tallest barely reaching his shoulder, passed him by without ever really seeing him as Renka tried again to resurrect the dead lighter and watched the snowflakes fall out of a murky gray sky.

The snow, in particular, had been what Yuki so loved about winter—appropriately so, since her very name meant "snow". She'd been willing to do anything with it—make snowmen or lob a hard-packed snowball at Renka's head when she thought he wasn't looking (And oftentimes, he wasn't).

A few stray snowflakes started to gather on Renka's shoulders, catch in his hair, and he sighed wearily as one, cold as the hand of Death, dribbled down and melted on his cheek.

He had loved the snow then, because she had loved it.

But now, Renka hated the snow.

He hated the snow because it reminded him of her.

And Renka hated the snow because all he could remember when he thought of Yuki was two swords protruding from her belly like branches and the blood that had cascaded from her like rain.

He smelled blood on the snow now.