Even in places where snow never falls,
There are moments that freeze in time.
Two souls drift beneath a pale sky,
Words melting like snowflakes on skin—
Beautiful, brief, unforgettable.
************
Meanwhile, Kana and John stood at the edge of the ocean, barefoot, letting the small waves lap against their legs.
The wind nipped at their skin, sharp and merciless, and the sky above was a sheet of gray. Most people would've stayed bundled indoors on a day like this, but not Kana.
John had been against the idea from the start—it's freezing, Kana, he'd said—but she had insisted. And when she insisted, there was no room for debate.
She was the first to step into the water.
The moment her toes touched the surface, she gasped from the chill but didn't retreat. Instead, she laughed—a small, bright sound carried off by the breeze. John stood back, arms crossed, watching her like she was the craziest person in the world. She was shivering and smiling at the same time.
Kana: Don't just stand there… come on.
John: No thanks. It's cold, isn't it?
Kana: (nodding) Very.
John: All the more reason for me not to go in.
Kana: (pouting) Oh, come on! Don't be a party pooper, John!
John: (to himself) She has a childish side, huh?
He glanced around, noticing the strange contrast of seasons—the way snow and sand mingled awkwardly along the shoreline. A gust of wind blew past, and he tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie.
John: Why come to the beach this time of year anyway?
Kana: (turning toward him) I mean… why not?
John: Huh?
Kana: Think about it. Everyone only talks about going to the beach in the summer, when it's hot and sunny. They think that's the only time it matters. But I've always wondered what it'd be like in the winter, when it's quiet and cold… when there's no one else around. It's almost like the world is holding its breath.
She looked out over the ocean as she spoke, her voice softer now.
Kana: And today felt… perfect.
John didn't reply immediately. He watched her face—the way her eyes sparkled despite the bitter cold, the way her breath fogged the air in front of her. Even standing ankle-deep in icy water, she looked at peace.
John: Oh… I guess that makes sense.
Kana: If you get it, then come over here already!
John: No.
Kana: John…?
John: Still no.
Kana: Pretty please?
John: Still no.
Kana puffed out her cheeks, visibly annoyed. She folded her arms and stomped her foot in the water, sending up a little splash. Then, slowly, a mischievous glint sparked in her eyes—the kind that always meant trouble.
Kana: John… if you don't come over here right now, I'll never ever send you pictures of me in a ponytail again!
The words hit him like lightning.
John: (to himself) That's not fair. Why would she say that?
He looked at her. She was grinning triumphantly now, already sensing her victory. He glanced down at his shoes, then out at the water, then back at her. Reluctantly—grudgingly—he began to take off his shoes and roll up his pants.
John: (grumbling) You're evil.
Kana: And yet here you are.
With a dramatic sigh, he stepped into the water. The freezing touch hit him like needles, crawling up his legs and slicing straight to the bone. His whole body stiffened.
John: Gah—it's cold, dammit!
Kana: Told you.
John: Yeah… which is exactly why I didn't want to come in. But you…
He turned toward her, ready to give her a piece of his mind, but stopped when he saw her stick out her tongue like a child. His eye twitched. A vein popped in his forehead.
John: Why did you have to do that?
Kana: It was the only way to get you to come. (grinning) Oh? Were you that worried I wouldn't send you ponytail pics anymore?
John: Huh? Who cares about that?
Kana: Oh really? So you wouldn't mind if I stopped sending them?
John paused, caught in her trap. He looked away.
John: …I didn't say that.
Kana: Yes you did.
John: No I didn't.
Kana: Yes… you… did!
John: No… I… didn't.
They stood there like statues, staring each other down in the icy surf, the cold momentarily forgotten. Their serious faces began to waver. Then the tension cracked—just a little at first, in the twitch of Kana's mouth and the soft snort from John.
Then they both burst out laughing, their breath fogging between them in bursts of white. They laughed so hard they had to hold their sides, their voices echoing into the empty winter sky.
For a moment, nothing else mattered—not the cold, not the loneliness, not even the time. It was just them, acting like kids, sharing a memory neither would ever forget.
After a while, their laughter slowly faded, leaving only the sound of the waves brushing up against the shore, rhythmic and calm like a lullaby only the sea could sing.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply stood there in silence, side by side, cold toes buried in the wet, shifting sand as the tide gently rolled in and out.
Kana: (softly) Hey… thanks for coming in the water. I know you really didn't want to.
John: Well, you practically blackmailed me into it.
Kana: Hey, I call that creative persuasion.
John: (chuckles) Well, I guess you could say that too.
Kana: Right? I'm so smart.
John: (sighs) You're annoying sometimes… but it was kind of worth it.
Kana: Yeah, you wouldn't want to miss those pictures, would you?
John's face instantly turned red. His ears practically glowed in the evening light.
John: C… can you please stop talking about it? It's kinda embarrassing.
Kana looked at John's flustered face, and the more he tried to look away, the more it amused her. Seeing him like that—awkward and red-faced—made her cheeks warm too, but for a different reason. In that moment, he looked... cute. And it made her heart flutter.
Kana: (giggling) You're so red right now. If your face gets any hotter, it might melt the snow.
John: (grumbling) You're never letting this go, are you?
Kana: Nope! Not when it's this fun. I gotta enjoy this rare, flustered John moment while it lasts.
John: (mutters) Great. I should've stayed home.
Kana: (playfully nudges him) Oh, please. You love hanging out with me.
John: (soft chuckle) Maybe.
The teasing died down, and a calm quiet settled between them once more. The waves rolled in, brushing over their ankles before retreating back into the sea, whispering like old secrets.
Kana: (tilts head) You know… I'm really glad we did this today.
John: Why?
Kana: I don't know. Something about today just feels… special.
John glanced at her briefly, then looked back at the ocean.
John: …That's because it is.
Kana: Huh?
John: (casually, but quietly) It's my birthday.
Kana blinked. Her eyes widened slightly as the words registered.
Kana: …What?
John: Yeah. Today. My birthday.
Kana: (shocked) Wait—what?! Are you serious?!
John: Dead serious.
Kana: JOHN! Why didn't you say anything!?
John: (quietly) I don't usually talk about it. Not a big deal.
Kana: It is a big deal. Your birthday's not just another day.
John: (half-smiling) It kind of always has been.
Kana stared at him, her brows furrowing with a mix of confusion and concern.
John looked out at the sea as another wave crashed and rolled over their feet. He took a slow breath, the kind that came from deep within—not heavy, not dramatic, just… thoughtful.
John: To be honest, the circumstances around my birth have always been a little hazy. I never really knew my dad. My mom would just buy me a small cake when I was little, and that was it. No parties. No candles. Just a quiet slice of cake and maybe a smile if she wasn't too tired. Over time, even the cake stopped showing up.
He paused, and Kana didn't say anything—just listened, the way someone listens when they know it's something that matters.
John: After a while, it just became a regular day. No point in expecting anything. Some of my friends would say "happy birthday" here and there, but that was about it. So I stopped treating it like something special.
John looked down at the water, as if his memories had taken shape in the ripples.
John: So… the reason I didn't tell you earlier was because I knew you'd make a big fuss about not being able to get me anything. (smiles softly) But honestly, just coming all this way… and finally seeing you—that's enough for me.
There was a stillness in the air then—not awkward, but warm and full. The kind of quiet that wraps around you like a blanket.
Suddenly, without a word, Kana splashed a wave of cold water right at him.
John: Hey—what was that for?
Kana: (quietly) …You're such an idiot sometimes.
He blinked at her, surprised by the shift in her voice.
John: Huh?
Kana: (eyes starting to water) You really thought I'd care more about gifts than just… being here for you?
She stepped closer. The water swirled around their ankles, colder now, but neither of them noticed.
Kana: You've spent so many birthdays feeling like they didn't matter. Like you didn't matter. And you were just gonna let today be another one of those?
John: Kana—
Kana: (soft but firm) No. Not this time. Because this one's different.
She reached out and gently took his hand. Her fingers were small and cold, but they gripped his like they meant it—like they weren't letting go.
Kana: I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. And I don't care if there's no cake or presents or decorations. Just… let this day mean something. Even if it's just the two of us, standing in freezing water, talking like idiots.
John stared at her—half stunned, half touched. There was something raw in her eyes, something sincere that made his chest tighten.
Kana: (smiles, voice trembling slightly) Happy Birthday, John.
John's lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no words came. For a second, he just stood there, heart loud in his ears. Then, slowly, his fingers curled around hers, holding on just a little tighter.
And for the first time in years, his birthday didn't feel so empty.
It felt real.
It felt like it mattered.
John looked at her smiling face and couldn't help but blush. His eyes darted away almost instantly, unable to hold her gaze for too long.
John: T…thank you.
As Kana gently held John's hand, her eyes lowered toward her wrist—the one that bore the bracelet Jane's mother had given her just yesterday. Her fingers lightly brushed against it, and suddenly, the memory of that moment resurfaced in vivid detail.
"When Jane was younger, I gave her something similar—a small reminder of me, something she could look at and think of me when she needed it most."
Those words echoed in her mind like a warm whisper. And with them, an idea quietly blossomed in her heart.
Without hesitation, Kana began to remove the bracelet from her wrist.
John noticed immediately, his brow lifting in confusion.
John: Huh? What are you doing?
Kana: Giving you an impromptu birthday gift.
She smiled softly, then reached out, gently taking his left hand in hers. With great care, she slid the bracelet onto his wrist. John looked down at it, puzzled. It wasn't just confusion—it was disbelief, uncertainty, and a hint of guilt all mixed together.
John: A bracelet?
Kana: Yeah… someone gave it to me yesterday.
John: But then… why give it to me? You're the one who obviously deserves this.
Kana: I want you to keep it… John. (pauses) I want you to keep it. Think of it as a small reminder of today… of me. A piece of me. So that whenever you look at it, you'll always remember me, think of me… need me.
John stared at the bracelet again, the guilt tightening in his chest. It felt wrong to accept it—like he was taking something meant for someone else. He opened his mouth, trying to protest.
John: But—
Before he could say another word, Kana reached for his hand again, this time more firmly.
Kana: Please, John… I want you to take it.
Their eyes locked. Neither of them spoke, but in that moment of intense eye contact, an unspoken emotion surged between them. It wasn't just sentiment—it was something raw, something sacred.
John's resolve melted.
John: Fine… I'll keep it.
Kana's lips curled into the softest smile, warm and fragile like the last bloom of spring.
Kana: John… HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
She had already told him those words earlier. But this time—this time it carried a different weight. A deeper meaning. A sincerity that wrapped around his heart like a warm embrace.
John turned to her again… and froze.
What he saw in front of him was not just Kana's smile—it was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life. It wasn't like the ones she wore during their video calls, and it wasn't like the smiles he had seen on other girls. No, this smile was different.
It was rare.
It was radiant.
It was her.
And despite the cloudy evening sky where the sun was hidden away, somehow she was shining all on her own. Her face—soft, glowing, breathtaking—seemed to illuminate his world in ways the sun never could.
Kana, on the other hand, noticed the way he was looking at her, and it made her heart flutter. There was something about that look—something she recognized. It was the same look he had given her once before, during that video call a few months ago when she tied her hair in a ponytail.
She hadn't forgotten that look. She had craved it. And now, standing here before him, she was receiving it again—completely, intensely. The warmth that flooded her chest made her body temperature rise.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them moved.
The waves returned again, brushing against their legs, cool and rhythmic like the heartbeat of the earth itself. But in that stillness, it was as if the world had stopped spinning—just for them.
In that silent moment, a sound broke through—not from the ocean, not from the wind, but from within.
"BADUMP"
"BADUMP"
"BADUMP"
Their hearts were speaking.
And for the first time, they both listened.