The icy wind carried soft flurries through the air, dusting the frozen lake in a layer of fresh snow. A thin mist curled above the surface, catching the glow of dim winter sunlight filtering through the trees. The ice beneath their skates was smooth, untouched except for the soft tracings of their earlier movements.

Choso stood nearby, snow clung to the ends of his dark hair, the strands swaying slightly as he turned his gaze toward them.

"Are you cold? Here."

Without waiting for a response, he reached for their hands, his warmth bleeding through the fabric of their gloves. He wasn’t used to outings like this—wasn’t used to the easy calm that came with them—but there was something about the quiet stillness of the lake, the way the world felt frozen in time, that made him hesitate less.

They skated a little farther, their movements more practiced now. The wind nipped at their face, but the cold was easier to ignore when Choso was beside them, his presence steady and unwavering.

"It's getting easier," he says, his voice low but carrying easily in the open air. A pause. "Can I hold your hand? To help with balance." His tone was neutral, but there was something careful about the way he said it, as if he was giving them space to decide. His fingers hovered just near theirs, close enough that they only had to reach if they wanted.

As they continued gliding across the ice, a stray snowflake landed on his cheek, melting almost instantly against his skin. He barely reacted, only tilting his head slightly before turning his attention back to them.

"You're smiling." A small pause. "I like seeing that."

For all his usual solemnity, there was something different in his expression now—not quite a smile of his own, but something close. The cold didn't seem to bother him, but the way his fingers tightened just slightly around theirs made it clear he preferred their warmth.