Thank you so much for the support, it really does mean a lot to me, especially since I'm having to start over with a new account.

There she goes again. The young beauty racing out to the white, innocent snow. Does she remember me? The snow, so white and pure looking, almost depthless against the concrete where her perfect feet leap around. She takes care-free jumps and smiles the beautiful smile I've been without for so long.

I used to be able to make her smile like that. It was with the tip of my hat or the pop of a rose and occasionally it only took me calling out her name from the countless daydreams she had. Aoko.

Did you know that lovely figures make lovely snow angles? She makes plenty of them, growing a garden around the house that really isn't her home. She creates the angels that never smiled down on her. Never helped her when the snow stuck to her hair. She dances around the house and laughs lightly, basking in the glory of the white.

Do I ever resurface her mind? Will she recall the time I taught her to notice the small petals on a flower or the feathers of a dove? How lost can she get because of the color? The curious, playful white. The peaceful, calm color. The blank empty space. Where memories are bleached by the color. I find myself wondering if she'll ever be able to recall me. Curiosity did in fact kill the cat, but once there was a girl with bushy brown hair who smiled and told me that someone name Generosity brought back the insignificant life of the cat. The second chance she never got. And now, she's as generous and giving as ever.

Perhaps it's not entirely my fault I end up in front of her house. And her. She observes me cautiously and I do the same. I've only seen her from a distance and now I see her with less than a few feet away from me, I see she's added a couple inches to her name. Her chest too. In the moment of silence that falls along with the snowflakes between us, it's obvious she doesn't remember me. Aoko nods her head to me as she had done to stranger. Her eyes uncomprehending me, demand and explanation. Her hair has gotten more tamable and longer. I begin to wish I was by her side when her hair grew and the last snow had melted. I begin to wish she remembers me.

"I knew you before your…accident. I know you don't remember me but I remember you. I made you something to help you regain your memory. I'd advise you to open it when your parents are out of the house." I hand her a small, brown package. On the top, written in sharpie is the name she lives by. Itami Aoko.

"Thank you very much…," she whispers politely. "You'll know my name soon enough." I say softly. She nods and bows at me as a sign of respect and it takes effort to hold my tongue from saying words that would only confuse her at this moment. And when the exchanges of simple words are over, she thanks me for a final time and turns away. There's snow stuck to her hair. Without thinking, I place my hand on her thin shoulder. "Wait, Aoko!" I say. She turns back towards me with a surprised look in her eye. It might just be because I had mistakenly called her by her first name, or perhaps there was a moment within her, where she felt a stirring inside, where for just a moment, she felt like she remembered the countless times I had called her by her first name. Aoko. Aoko. Aoko.

The surprised look on her face soon melts away and she shifts the package securely in her arms. I wrap my arms around her and I feel her soft body against mine, the way I had wished for it to happen all throughout our high school years. "By the way Aoko," I whisper into her ears. "I love you. I always have." I gently kiss her cheek and hold it there for a second longer before releasing her into the cold and I run off into the whiteness of the world.

Knowing my childhood friend well she would open the packager after her "mother and father" are out of the house. There she would find years worth of pictures and videos and newspaper clippings about a thief clad in white. In the mix there may also be a few over the death of a very committed inspector. There's a chance she won't know what it means, but if the angels pay attention to her this one time, she may remember her real name and her father. She may remember me.

But before that happens, I'm sure to conclude that the snow stayed longer in her hair than my "I love you," on her mind. And at one point they'll both melt away. And when that happens, so shall I.

Did you understand? I don't know how well I was able to do it, but I meant for the story to be something where after her dad dies due to something related to his job, she loses her memory from the shock and is sent to live with complete strangers to which Kaito tries to shed some truth to her. If you liked or even didn't like, please leave me a review! thank you!