Kyoko snuggled up closer to her husband . She was a little bit drunk, just like him, and grew goose b.u.mps from the unexpected night chill, just like him . She felt them under her fingers as she slid her hand further inside his s.h.i.+rt sleeve .

Advertis.e.m.e.ntThere was a lot to be said about Swedish midsummer . Accurately placed around summer solstice instead of mid-July was one thing and pleasantly lacking everyday rain was another . 'Gorgeous hours of light' Yukio would have added should she ask . It was but an hour since he stopped alternatively looking at his wrist.w.a.tch and the darkening skies above them .

Summer temperatures, however wasn't one of them . The high school rooftop from her youth had been warmer, if her memories from that night before the cultural festival served her correctly .

No matter whether they did or not, they still called colour to her face and she buried her nose deeper in Yukio's chest . She could feel the question in his fingertips as he caressed her hair .

A quarter of a century spent together . Most of those years happy ones and none of them entirely a bad one . The later ones filled with a calmer joy . The early ones more p.r.o.ne to sudden swings between exhilarating joy, fear and despair .

Like their second year cultural festival she remembered and shuddered .

She hugged Yukio closer and forced her thoughts and memories to their first school festival together . Apart from a few ugly moments it was a bright and joyful memory .

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And the slightly embarra.s.sing one from a rooftop shared between them .