Shape in the Snow

Keiko gazed out of the starburst hole in the window pane. Cold air was blowing through the fist size gap and Keiko could see large snowflakes falling. She sighed. Yusuke had promised to fix it today but had (conveniently) forgotten. He was probably killing some misbehaving youkai in a dilapidated alleyway somewhere. Or worse, he might be killing some misbehaving youkai in a god-forsaken part of Makai.

He had probably also forgotten how much she hated his random disappearances. He would use that unchallengeable excuse that people were in danger and she would shake her head, frustrated, but unable to argue. This time it was unforgivable, for while she would tolerate his mysterious absences' any other day of the week this was the one day that they both set apart to be together.

When he got home (Keiko tried and failed not to think if he gets home) she was going to kill him. She glared at the baseball field as if she thought her gaze could melt the thick layer of snow that blanketed it. Keiko blinked and squinted, the snow covered playing field had large furrows gouged into it, as if someone had melted lines into the otherwise smooth white surface. Her hand flew to her mouth and a tear rolled down one cheek. Keiko's voice echoed around the empty apartment

"Yusuke…"

The channels formed a giant kanji character; the one for Love.