How long had it taken him? How long had it taken for Kaito to trudge through the snowy path of Kazeyama. The cold and wet breeze slapped Kaito's face as he persevered through the rough forest of Tsukinomori. The rough moon glanced down at the wet trees creating a shining light in the dark blizzard. Surely Kaito was home now right? He peered through the brown logs in front of him as if they were some sort of window. Why had it taken so long? The rough winds pierced through the warm layer of cloak around his body. How bad had the storm gotten? Things flooded Kaito's mind as the blizzard revolved around him. How would he get back like this?

Kaito was worried. He stood there in fear as the cold white layer engulfed him. He knew he was close to home, yet he feared he would not make it. Still, he endured the endless cold around him. He looked forward with his face as dim as ever. The thought crossed his mind. Kaito still did not have faith. Even through the white blizzard he still managed to catch a glimpse of a shape that was made out to be a cave. He did not care anymore. He could not withstand the freezing weather. He ran forward like a river breaking through a dam. He sat there, and he felt safe like he was going to make it. Even though he tried to keep faith inside him, he knew his strength was withered, and he soon was staring into pure black. He reached out and he glimpsed the patches of blue.

Kaito sat in the cold lonely dust. He did not remember what happened to him, he only remembered the blizzard. He wondered in his cold lonely spot what the blue he saw the day before was. It was slowly coming back to him, Kaito sat there as he felt time pass in front of him. All he did was eat and sleep. He felt the cold, the warm, and the dusty bitterness inside of him like a dying flame in the coldest of winter. He felt lost and forgotten. He felt he had forgotten himself in the cold bitterness of the storm. He wished he was in his home... Where ever or whatever home was. He wanted to know more. He sat there watching the rough autumn leaves pass onto the ground; deflated but still beautiful. He forced himself forward and picked one up. Warm and assuring. He missed the feeling of being at peace with himself. He now felt lost, forgotten and empty.