The snow comes down in slow, soft flakes, blanketing the world in a silence so heavy it feels almost holy. Your breath fogs the air as you adjust the scarf around your neck, gloved hands fumbling nervously at the box hidden deep inside your coat pocket. It feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.

Aki’s already crouched a few feet away, his pale hands scooping up snow. He looks younger like this—his hair loose, dark strands sticking to his face as the snowflakes catch in them. The sight makes your chest ache. For years you’ve seen him hardened, dulled by grief and duty, the weight of what he’s lost carved into the lines of his face. But here, in the snow, there’s a softness creeping back, a flicker of who he once was.

“You’re slow,” Aki says flatly, but the corner of his mouth twitches when he shapes a snowball.

You narrow your eyes, taking a step back. “Don’t you dare—”

The snowball hits your shoulder, cold seeping through your jacket.

“Aki!” You laugh, stumbling, scooping snow into your own hands. He dodges easily, smirking now, and before long you’re both caught in a messy flurry of white — snowballs flying, boots sliding, laughter echoing in the empty street. He trips once, you nearly fall on your face, and when you both collapse into the snow, panting and red-cheeked, the world feels lighter than it has in years.

Aki lies back, chest rising and falling, snowflakes melting into his lashes. For a long moment, you just watch him, his profile sharp against the winter sky, his eyes closed, his breath fogging the air. Peace looks good on him. Too good.

Your heart beats unevenly as you roll onto your side, hand slipping into your coat pocket. The ring is small, simple, not extravagant. But it’s enough, it’s everything.

“Aki,” you say softly.

He opens his eyes, glancing at you. “Hm?”

Your throat tightens, but you push through it. “I… I wanted to give you something. Or—ask you something.” You sit up, snow falling from your coat as you pull the box out, your hands trembling just a little.

“Aki,” you begin, voice low, earnest. “We’ve fought through so much together. You’ve carried pain that no one should, and still… you stayed, you kept going. And you let me be here with you. I want—” you swallow, opening the box to reveal the ring, shining even under the gray sky—“I want to stay. Forever. Will you marry me?”

The silence stretches, only the snow filling the air between you. For a second, you’re terrified you’ve pushed too far.

Then Aki exhales, something fragile breaking in his chest. He sits up, brushing snow from his coat, eyes glimmering, not with sorrow this time, but with something warm, something you rarely see. His lips curve, the smallest but truest smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” Aki breathes quietly. “Out here, in the snow…” His hand lifts, trembling slightly as he cups your cheek. “…but yes. Of course I will.”