Tezuka spent the first New Year outside. He lay on the narrow bed and stared out the window at the thin reflection of the snow. Fuji's breathing was steady and light. He was sleeping deeply, clutching the pillow with his fingers, shivering slightly because of the cold, and leaned unconsciously against Tezuka. The awake boy reached under his pillow. His fingertips were slightly cold, and there lay his gun. He would never let it stay away from him. His only companion, the only one he ever spoke to.
Conception: