Sayonara, Fubuki-kun!" "Sayonara!" You wave goodbye to your classmate, Fubuki Shirou. Within seconds of leaving the classroom, Fubuki is surrounded by fangirls. You grit your teeth and glare at them. Their annoying squeals, their boldness, you hate everything about them. Trying to take away your Fubuki-kun.
You stomp out of the classroom, shoving all the fangirls and trying your best to control your desire to punch all of them. You think to yourself: Why, oh why does Fubuki–kun have to be so sweet that he doesn't reject them!
On the way home, it starts to snow. You sigh. The snow always has a calming effect on you. You start thinking: Actually, I'm like a fangirl too. Fubuki-kun only sees me as a friend. Even though I helped him with his Atsuya problem. You remember all the letters you sent Fubuki while he was away either fighting the aliens or at the FFI.
You hurry home as the snow was getting heavier. Once home, you clean your hair and get about with the chores at home. Your parents disappeared when you were 5. They left the house and never came back. It was Fubuki who helped you through those traumatic days. He must have thought that I only helped him with his Atsuya problem because he helped me. But that's not true. You helped him because you had fallen in love with him.
The snow was turning into a snowstorm. You lit the fireplace and huddled in front of the fire in a pile of blankets while sipping hot chocolate. It was getting late.
Knock! Knock! Knock! You rush to open the door. It has become a habit from when you were 5. You always hoped that your parents came back one day.
You open the door and you see… Fubuki! "O-Ohayou, (l/n)-san!" You rush him into your house. 2 blankets, 1 cup of hot chocolate and 5 minutes in front of the fireplace later, Fubuki talks to you.
"Sorry for intruding, (l/n)-san."
"It doesn't matter, Fubuki-kun. And you can just call me (f/n). We've been friends for so long."
"Ok. Then you can just call me Shirou."
"O-Okay, S-Shirou."
You can't tell whether it was the fireplace, Fubuki's smile or what, but you suddenly feel like the room is warmer.
"S-So, Shirou, why were you outside my house in such a bad snowstorm?"
"Actually, you looked upset today in school, so I came to check up on you"
You blush, remembering how mad you were at school. You look out the window. In such a bad snowstorm, the weather channel will probably report at what time the snowstorm is expected to stop. You turn on the TV and flip to the weather channel.
"The current snowstorm in Hokkaido is expected to stop very soon."
"Well, that means it won't be stopping for a while."
You can't help but laugh. Fubuki is right, the weather channel is always wrong. Then you realise something.
"What if the snowstorm doesn't stop by tonight?"
"Well, I guess I just have to stay here then."
"S-Shirou!"
Fubuki laughs at your reaction. "Don't worry, I won't do anything to you!" You start blushing furiously. "Y-You can sleep in the guest room."
"What about my clothes?"
This was something you really didn't want to talk about.
"W-Well, you can borrow my t-shirt and pants."
"Arigatou, (f/n)!"
You're not sure what snapped in you, but you suddenly decide that if you don't make the first move, you would lose Fubuki. You grab his head with your hands and kiss him.
Fubuki is shocked at your action but returns the kiss. Then you break the kiss. "I-I'm sorry! I don't know why I di-" Fubuki cuts you off with another kiss.
"(f/n), I… I've always loved you ever since you came to school crying. Then you helped me with my Atsuya problem. But I was too scared to tell you the truth. I thought you only thought of me as a friend."
You can't help but laugh at the irony of it all. Fubuki smiles at you. "I love you too, Shirou. But you have to promise me one thing." "What?" "Ditch the fangirls." Fubuki laughs and says, "Yes."
In the warmth of the fireplace, with a snowstorm raging outside, your relationship with Fubuki blossomed. And you think to yourself, I wonder how the fangirls will react. Wait, why am I thinking about that? Fubuki loves me, that's all that matters