3rd January 2001

Gelid fingers, shivering legs, scarlet cheeks; you managed to escape the prestine white landscape that streatched over that snow-coated night. As much as you loved the sight of the snow, you had to admit it could be bothersome every so often. Gazing left and right from time to time, you sought for an empty seat, any seat, on that packed train, your hopes remaining very low.

Tokyo, Shinjuku specifically, was where you were going. You sighed nearly in defeat, wondering if you'll ever find a seat and, just when you were about to let hope vanish, you stopped. A boy, crossed arm, eyes closed, facing low was sat on the window-side seat half asleep, the seat next to his empty. "Perfect" you though, about to part your lips and question whether you could take the seat or not.

...! The train suddenly stopped on it's tracks, causing you to fall straight ahead, directly into the sleeping boy's lap. "Not perfect at all" your mind raced, as the indigo haired boy opened his eyes and questioned disoriented. First thing he did was pull his guitar away for safety.

"You ok?"

You gazed up, and nothingness was spoken. It felt like a silent symphony of the winter's embrace.