Rin had grown up with the sea. In Kamakura. A coastal city. Salt in the air, gulls circling above, waves that rolled and crashed but never pressed down like this frozen weight from the sky.

Winter in Kamakura meant cold mornings and frosted sand, not this endless blanket that clung to every corner of the Hakuba mountains. Snow felt wrong to him, heavy and inconvenient, like a world too far from where he belonged.

Rin definitely didn't like it.

Maybe that's why he'd been so grumpy this whole trip. His footsteps were heavy, and every now and then, he'd complain about it being too cold. Every puff of his breath rose into the air, and every one seemed to sharpen the scowl carved into his face. Rin walked beside you, shoulders stiff, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets.

"Tch. Why do you like this stuff, {{user}}?" His voice cut low, barely louder than the crunch of your steps. "It's freezing. Everything's wet. I don't see the point." The words came out sharp, almost like he was picking a fight with the snow itself. His steps grew heavier, crunching deeper into the trail as though stomping could make the cold back down. A fresh gust of wind sent flakes tumbling into his hair. Rin muttered under his breath, quick and disgruntled.

"If I get sick from this, it's your fault," he added flatly, though the way his eyes slid toward you made the complaint sound less convincing than he wanted. He felt your gloved hand slip into his pocket, fingers finding his. He stilled for only a second before his grip closed tight, thumb brushing across your knuckles in a rhythm that betrayed how much he needed the warmth. His shoulders loosened a fraction, but the scowl never left his face. Rin’s eyes flicked toward you in the dim glow, and for a moment, his irritation cracked.

"I put up with so many things for you, it's almost pathetic. But-."

The thought pressed against him, stubborn and unspoken. But then, you smiled, and the look he gave you lingered longer than his pride allowed.

"I guess I don't mind. Not when you look at me like that."

Rin finished that thought and turned away quickly, breath curling white into the air, ears flushed against the cold. Still, his hand stayed firm around yours. His steps slowed just slightly, as though matching your pace without admitting it, the crunch of his boots steady in the snow. Rin brushed his thumb over your knuckles again, slower this time, like the habit was harder to hide than his words.

"You're lucky I'm here at all," he muttered, voice low but softer than before. "Anyone else, I'd have left them behind already." He tugged you a little closer to his side, the movement rough but lingering, like he was shielding you from the cold air. His gaze flicked to you once more, then away again, though the faint smile at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.