Prompt 2:
Winter Scene
“You came?”
His blue eyes met green with a twinge of anger. “Of course, I came. You showed up, did you not?”
The man with green eyes softened his face into an apologetic nod before sinking his chin deeper into his silver scarf. He stood beside the bench bundled up in a hunter green coat that ended in the middle of his thighs, elongating his already lengthy torso. It had four golden buttons across his chest that sparkled in the orange light of the nearby streetlamp. Charcoal gray jeans, capped neatly by black leather ankle boots, wrapped his lean legs tightly, laces tightly tied in tiny bows at the top. The man himself was no older than twenty-two, his youthful face narrow and his nose pointed. He had long brows, and even longer light lashes that gathered snowflakes from the falling snow. His strawberry curls were pulled back and secured at the nape of his neck, where they cascaded down to just below his shoulder blades. He kicked at a snowdrift with his boot anxiously, with his hands, in gloves that matched his scarf, folded neatly together in front of him.
The other man stared at him long after he looked away briskly, his short, pale blonde waves bouncing as he turned his head. This man, about the same age, wore a fierce scowl. He stood uncomfortably in the cold, warmed only by a leather jacket with blue piping. It had enough of a collar to shield his cheeks from the cold but did not stop them from gathering color in the brisk air. His jeans were loose and plain, cuffed up at the bottom over the tan suede of his work boots. There were no gloves for his hands, but he didn’t care as long as he kept them shoved deep into the jacket’s pockets. There would be no handshaking tonight. “Here comes another.”
Both men looked up. The third man to arrive was much taller, with brown hair that poured over his shoulder like a dark curtain. He had strong features: a cut chin, strong jaw, and prominent brow. His shoulders pushed against the seams brown wool coat, and black gloves barely held his large hands that swung at his sides. He wore black pants, tucked into leather boots that reached up to his knees so that they blended together seamlessly. As he strode towards them, he looked up with eyes so dark that they might’ve lacked any color at all. Yet as he neared, the man met both their eyes with a hearty relief, and his eyes seemed to warm into a rich hazel. “I thought I was crazy.”
“You may be,” the blue-eyed man snapped. “We have no proof yet.”
“Is that all you need?” A fourth voice approached from the other way, collecting the men’s attention. “Then you will have it.”
This man was the tallest of all, though only a few inches above the third. His face was stern if not vacant, and seemed to ignore the gaping at his most obvious feature, his silver hair. It was not quite white, but not gray, either, as it fell down just past his shoulders. It’s hue resided somewhere in the middle, as did his brows, which was enough evidence to prove that it was natural. He stared down with gray eyes, made brighter against the darkened color of his tan skin. This man wore a white coat, tied around his waist with a sash, and with a collar high enough to hide his pointed chin from the cold. He wore light blue pants over black dress shoes, shiny enough to reflect the streetlamp’s light. With elegance, he adjusted his own black leather gloves over his long fingers, pushing in between each digit for a more snug fit as he glanced up at the others from underneath his brow.
“Is it so easy?” the green-eyed man piped up gingerly towards the fourth man.
He offered a small but kind smile to the young man. “It is. You already have your proof, men, just by each other’s presence. Look around. You know each other as much as you know me, but it has been a long time since we’ve been together like this.”
“Like what?” the second man barked, snuggling against his leather jacket as a brisk breeze washed over them.
“In our right minds,” the fourth said slowly and plainly. “I have waited a long time to meet you all, and I assume you all have done the same, even if you may not know it.”
“I knew it,” the third’s voice was low and deep as he spoke up. There was a certainty in his eyes as he glanced around at each of them. “Even though I don’t know how, I knew somehow. But there should be another.”
The fourth nodded at this with a sort of sorrow. “Indeed, but all in good time. First, we must settle things amongst ourselves before the rest falls into place. Konishi Noboru, isn’t it?” The third man nodded with a bit of surprise as the fourth extended a gloved hand with a very subtle bow. “My pleasure. Okita Katsumi, though I am sure Katsumi will suffice. This,” he gestured to the blue-eyed man, “is Minami Jun.”
The second man glared sideways at Katsumi, and looked at Noboru’s outstretched hand with skepticism. After a long pause, he decided shaking his hand wouldn’t hurt. “Nice to meet you.” The dry remark made Noboru smile for some reason, but he didn’t know why.
“Higashiyama Yuuto,” the first man introduced himself with a beaming pride. He smiled dazzlingly as he finished shaking Noboru’s hand, and continued to hold out his hand to Jun, whose bare hands were already shoved back in his pockets. Yuuto shrugged, but seemed to be content to hold his hand out to Katsumi without the delay. Katsumi met his eyes and nodded warmly at the young man, and the handshake lasted perhaps longer than the rest.
“Such strange names, I will admit,” Katsumi gathered as his hand parted from Yuuto’s. “I am not accustomed to them yet, but I’m sure I will with time.”
“What would you call us then?” Yuuto begged.
Katsumi sighed out an exhale, his face hardening suddenly. It seemed to sober the rest of the men as well. “I’m afraid this is where I must ask for a bit more faith from you all, because you are either going to walk away immediately or stay until the very end.”
