The Christmas season in Death City had never bothered Maka Albarn, but it left Soul Eater perturbed. He had been struggling to finish reading a book-not for enjoyment, but for a make-up test he had to complete for Nygus's intermediate weapons' course-and the interruption was not entirely appreciated. As much as he enjoyed that his partner-meister-had returned so quickly to their apartment from errands, as she stood in his bedroom, he was really not interested in what she had to show off.

"A skull at the top of the Christmas tree?"

His meister, wearing a wide smile, nodded as she held up her new purchase.

Soul stared at her for a moment, then turned back to his book. "No."

"Soul!" Maka yelled. "It's tradition."

"Not my tradition."

"Oh? And what would you have us do, _not_ put a skull atop the tree?"

"Yes!"

Maka growled, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "Where is your Death City spirit?"

"Buried six feet under," he said, as he flipped to the next page. "I hope you kept the receipt for that monstrosity."

"It is adorable! And look!"

Soul did, as Maka ripped the top off the box.

"Maka!"

"Oh, like I was going to ever return it!" she said, as she found the plug at the end of the skull orb, which she then plugged into the outlet located in the lamp atop Soul's desk. The skull then lit up a cool blue, before dissolving into green, then yellow, then red, before returning to blue. As Maka stared, her smile widened. "I would have gotten the tree topper that plays 'Christmas With the Devil,' but I thought that was too on the nose. And if you don't like this ornament, I bet your musical tastes wouldn't like that song either."

Maka dulled the insult by sliding her hand along Soul's hair. The path sent a rush up his spine.

"W-what has gotten into you?!" Soul yelled.

"Nothing!" Maka said with a giggle, leaving the skull atop the desk. "It's just, you know, it's Christmas Time! And I want us to get into the holiday spirit!"

Soul sighed. "Put up whatever you want on the tree-I don't care."

"Oh, you will!" Maka chided, gently. "You'll really get a kick out of this year's surprise!"

"I'm sure I won't," Soul said with a growl, returning to his book.

Maka frowned. "Fine, Scrooge, keep up this sour disposition, but I'm not letting you disrupt my holiday cheer." She pat him on the shoulder with the empty box that the ornament had been in. "Or else you'll sour the entire holiday pageant at school!"

Soul's eyes lifted from his book. "Girls marching across stage in goofy outfits? Oh, be still, my heart."

Maka raised an eyebrow. The past two Christmases that she had spent with Soul, he had been so dour, but this year, since Thanksgiving, he verbalized his displeasure louder and louder. It would not bother her so much if he was not so out of character. The last two years, Soul at least approached his displeasure with the holiday season with some good-natured ribbing. In particular, he was usually calmer about the DWMA's yearly holiday pageant. True, as he said, it had turned into a glorified fashion show, broken up with a few readings from classic literature and a bit of music-never provided by Soul, unfortunately, no matter how often Maka pestered him to perform. But even Soul had more to say than just whine about how goofy the affair was. The yearly holiday pageant consisted of the girls at the DWMA dressing in holiday attire, in a glorified beauty competition to determine who best embraced the charm, fashion, grace, intelligence, and strength expected of an E.A.T. student-coupled with a dumb swimsuit competition and evening gown competition. Maka herself recognized how pathetic the affair was, in no small part because of who was in charge of the affair.

"If it makes you feel better," Maka said, "I heard from Kid that Papa is no longer running the contest."

That comment pricked up Soul's ears. "Oh?" He looked up from his book. "Who did Lord Death put in charge?"

"Well," Maka said, avoiding eye contact, "Kid…"

Soul stared at Maka for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. "Okay," he said, slapping his hand on the desk, "now _that_ sounds excellent! We have to check that out!"

Maka sighed with relief. "Good-because I volunteered us."

Soul sat back. "For?"

"For the contest?"

"Like, you will be on stage?" He looked away sharply from Maka. "In...those outfits?"

Maka let the silence hang. "Not exactly."

"Oh." Soul almost sounded disappointed. "You, um, won't be in the swimsuit?"

"No."

"The evening gown."

"No."

Soul dared to look. "What, exactly, will you be wearing?"

"Nothing."

Soul fell out of his chair.

"Not like that!"

"Then what-?!"

"You are going on stage."

Soul blinked. "I'm what?"

"I signed you up for the competition."

Soul climbed back into his chair. "In case you haven't noticed, Maka, I ain't exactly the guy to be in an evening gown?"

"I think you could pull it off."

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Soul growled. "What the hell do you mean I'm in the competition this year?!"

"Liz told me to sign you up!"

"Why?! I'm not going to compete with other girls!"

"You won't be!"

"Oh, I won't!"

"No!" Maka shouted, waving her hands in front of her. "You'll be competing against…"

Soul looked at her. He bobbed his forehead, encouraging her to finish her answer.

"Against other boys."

Soul's chest collapsed.

"It's a boys' beauty contest this year, Soul."

The weapon's face blanched.

"Merry Christmas?" Maka offered.

Then meister and weapon heard a piano begin to play, followed by a saxophone. The duo stared at the skull on his desk.

" 'Last Christmas Eve, I didn't feel so jolly...'"

"Huh," Maka began. "I guess the skull ornament does play music."