Winter of Our Youth

Winter of Our Youth

It was the beginning of spring, and for the first time in months, Fubuki had decided to make a rare trek up the mountainside to visit his cousin Xue. Shiro was half asleep when his son announced his plans for the day, but even amidst the sleep-induced haze, the Galatier caught the tail end of his son’s announcement—Fubuki had finished another one of his stories, and now that it wasn’t freezing outside, he would be gone all day to gather some feedback from Xue.

Shiro mumbled a quiet “don’t forget your coat” before slowly drifting off to sleep once more. 

Winter was officially over—sunlight streamed in through the half open curtains as birds chirped loudly just out of view. The snow outside had finally started to melt, and in its place, new flowers began to bloom. The sun shone just a bit brighter with each passing day, but mornings remained delightfully chilly, perfect for sleeping in and lazing around underneath the covers. 

Shiro would have dozed off for another hour or two if his wife hadn’t called from the living room.

The Galatier let out a soft huff—Mei had always been an early riser. His wife often gave in to his requests for early morning cuddles, but every now and then, would insist on leaving bed at the break of dawn to tend to the plants in their garden or spend the early hours of the morning stretching or practicing new dance steps to songs on the radio. 

While Shiro had welcomed his much slower-paced life with open arms, Mei—while equally fond of relaxing days with her husband and son—still preferred to live a somewhat active lifestyle. 

The woman made her way toward her sleeping husband, crouching down beside their bed until her face was merely inches away from his. Shiro looked so peaceful, the steady rise and fall of his chest, a tell-tale sign of just how comfortable he was underneath the covers.

People who didn’t know Shiro often found him intimidating, everything from his imposing stature to the scars that littered his well-toned body, but in the privacy of their home, Mei couldn’t help but look at him fondly. He was her wonderful, loving husband—flaws and all. 

Oh, how life had changed. 

Gone were the sleepless nights in taverns, the endless wandering, and the winding roads that lead to wild surprises—in its place was a quiet existence with the man she loved with all her heart. 

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Mei’s breath was warm against her husband’s ear. “Are you planning to stay in bed all day?” 

Shiro’s eyelids fluttered open, his gaze locking onto the woman he loved more than life itself. “Hmmm? That’s a tempting thought.” He stifled a yawn, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. Shiro spent a moment just admiring Mei before a soft chuckle left his lips. “You know what would make that idea even better, dear?” 

Mei already knew where the conversation was going, after all, a good nap was one of her husband’s favorite pastimes. Regardless, she humored him. “Let’s hear it.”

The corners of Shiro’s eyes crinkled in delight, as if he were a child who’d woken up to the first sight of snowfall. “If you were in bed with me.” 

“Is that so?” Mei giggled. “I was thinking, since Fubuki is out with his cousin today, we could go on a date instead—just the two of us, like old times.” Mei’s expression turned a bit teasing. “Of course, you’d have to muster up the strength to leave the comfort of our bed behind.” 

Shiro chuckled, pretending to struggle immensely as he sat up in bed. “If it’s for you, dear… nothing is too difficult.” In the past, Shiro never thought he was capable of loving someone as much as he did Mei, back then, he had always felt undeserving of love. 

Now, here he was, head-over-heels in love with the woman before him. As they grew older together, Shiro found that his love and appreciation for her deepened too. Sometimes, when he dwelt on this thought, the weight of just how much he loved her would bear down on his world-weary shoulders, enveloping him like a warm and comforting embrace. 

Mei made him so, so happy. 

In return, he wanted to make her as happy as he possibly could—even if it meant getting out from underneath the cozy covers of their king-sized bed. “I’ll follow you anywhere, dear.” He meant it with every fiber of his being, even to the ends of the earth.  

Mei smiled before she disappeared into their closet. Shortly after, she returned with matching cream-colored sweaters. She playfully tossed one his way and grinned. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

xxx

Hand-in-hand, Shiro and Mei began the quaint walk from their home to the nearby park. It was mostly quiet, save for the sounds of birds chirping in the distance. The snow that had once covered the ground had melted, giving way to fresh grass and budding seedlings. 

The world was blooming with life. 

Shiro and Mei were mostly silent, during quiet moments like these—even after centuries spent in each other’s company—the two still managed to find joy in the simplest of things. 

Every time Shiro saw a flower he knew Mei would like, he’d give his wife’s hand a gentle squeeze. In return, she would understand exactly what he meant, turning her head in time to take in the view with a bright grin. 

Shiro loved seeing his wife like this. Mei wasn’t any less feisty or courageous (she could still summon her inner tiger when the need called for it), but it was clear on her face that she was content, happy. Seeing Mei like this made Shiro’s once cold heart melt in his chest. 

If past acquaintances saw him now, perhaps they would say he’d grown soft, but Shiro didn’t mind at all. If anything, he was proud that he was no longer the same resentful man. 

Life was good when one wasn’t angry all the time.

Life was great when one had people they cared about deeply by their side.

Occasionally, Mei would stop to greet a familiar face and Shiro would smile politely as his wife exchanged words with acquaintances or said hello to the children that passed them by. 

Not too long ago, Shiro eyed the neighborhood children with envy. The Galatier certainly didn’t look like the type that wanted kids, but ever since his brother adopted a child of his own, Shiro found himself struck by bouts of baby fever—a desire to have something similar in his own life.

Fubuki came along shortly after, and the rest was history. 

Eventually, the couple stopped underneath one of the gazebos scattered throughout the park. This one had a clear view of both the playground and one of the nearby rivers. 

“The first few days of spring are always so beautiful,” Mei stated wistfully.

“Mhm,” Shiro hummed in agreement as he began to set a picnic blanket on the ground. “They are…” There was an awkward pause, as if Shiro were contemplating on his words. After a moment of silence, he decided to speak his compliment to completion. “They’re beautiful, but not quite as beautiful as the sight before me—ah, I’m sorry. I read it in one of my magazines.” The Galatier grimaced for a moment, embarrassed by how cheesy the line sounded when spoken aloud. “I do mean it though,” a gentle smile tugged on the corners of his lips. “You always look stunning.” 

Mei could only laugh in response. Shiro was certainly a secret romantic, even if he wasn’t the most charismatic person around. Of course, Mei didn’t mind. If anything, her husband was delightfully endearing, awkwardness and all. Mei meant it with all her heart when she told him practically a lifetime ago that she loved him bite and all. 

Shiro placed the picnic basket on the blanket he’d laid out on the ground and the two shared a delightful little lunch underneath the gazebo. Once they’d finished their meal, the couple decided to lie down on the picnic blanket and gaze lazily at the clouds that drifted overhead. 

As Mei stared up at the sky, Shiro found himself rolling onto his side to enjoy an even better view—his wonderful wife. Even after being married for so long, he always found himself captivated by her warmth and beauty. It reminded him of many years ago, sitting by a bonfire in the middle of nowhere, watching as Mei danced the night away with their travel companions. Even then, he could never seem to take his eyes off her, never seem to stop the fluttering in his chest when she lost herself to the music. 

Eventually, Shiro broke the comfortable silence with a question. “Do you ever miss it?”

“Hmm?” 

“Life on the road.”

Mei thought about it for a moment. Early on in their marriage she sometimes missed the thrill of wielding a blade in her hand—the excitement of barrelling into the unknown, but as she dwelt on the question, she realized that as wonderful as those experiences were, she no longer wanted them to be anything more than fond memories. “It was fun while it lasted, but honestly, I prefer getting to spend every day with you and Fubuki.” She turned her head and gave him a soft peck on the forehead. “What about you?” 

Shiro didn’t skip a beat. “Not at all.” There was a moment of silence as he reached for Mei’s hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. “This is the happiest I’ve ever been—you and Fubuki, the both of you make me so happy.” 

If he never woke up to see tomorrow, he had absolutely no regrets.