This time of year looks different on Kinmoku.

Seiya should have expected that. She knows very well that Earth's winter cycle coincides with their summer cycle; knows that during this time, a frozen substance that the humans call "snow" commonly litters the ground to create a world awash in white. But she misses the palpable heat of her home planet. It hadn't occurred to her before leaving just how much she'd miss it.

She hunches unhappily inside of her heavy coat, trudging through the piles of freshly fallen snow that line the sidewalks of Tokyo. The snow reaches feelers of cold into her boots to nip cruelly at her toes.

She hates this cold, but hates her coat more; hates, in fact, every extra layer that she has to pull onto herself to hide who she is on this planet. Taiki and Yaten are waiting for her at the apartment that the three of them share and she is eager to get there, if only to shed the cloaks of false identity that she'd donned that morning, the lies that she can undo only with them.

The streets are nearly vacant today. Lonely signs hang in dark windows, proclaiming the shops "closed." It's a day that the humans call "Criss-mass." From what Seiya understands, it's meant to be a time spent with family and friends, eating more food than you should be capable of, sharing laughter, and making memories.

They'd a day like that on Kinmoku: their Summer Solstice festival. She remembers the last one that they'd spent together happily- her, Kakyuu, Taiki, and Yaten- before Galaxia ripped their peace to shreds.

They'd been in the Tankei palace. Kakyuu's hair loops had hung loose after one too many of the apricot concoctions that the palace chefs had made that day and she'd swung her arms through Seiya and Yaten's to yank them away from the banquet table. Taiki had followed, none of them troubling themselves to be discreet. Kakyuu didn't bother to excuse them from the visiting dignitaries, which was fine. They all knew that they'd forgive her after one apologetic smile. The princess was well-loved.

The four of them had torn through the palace halls, laughing, giggling. Kakyuu's skirts had been bunched in her hands to free her feet and her Starlights had followed behind, stretching their long legs, loping around corners. It had been… fun.

Seiya's mind stutters on the word.

It's strange the things that stay with her now. She can't remember where they'd run to that day, but she remembers Kakyuu's hair loops swinging to and fro before her during the dash through corridors. She can't remember what Kakyuu's voice sounds like anymore, but she remembers her scent: that undeniable, unmistakable, distinctively floral fragrance that they'd chased across two galaxies.

She can't remember the last time she'd run for the pure, unadulterated thrill of it, but she remembers the last run she made for her life.

It was yesterday.

She buries her hands deeper into her pockets and slices her eyes at the ground, avoiding the gazes of people like her. They are the ones with holes in their hearts, who do not have a family to rush off to.

She amends the thought almost instantly, feeling as guilty as if she'd said it aloud to Taiki and Yaten.

It isn't that she doesn't consider them family. It's impossible for her not to. They'd fought together, trained together, grown up together. The humans think that they are brothers, but the three are sister senshi, sisters-in-arms. But Kakyuu is the sister of her heart and it is impossible not to miss her now. Criss-mass is not a holy day for Seiya, but she feels the absence of home and happy family more keenly than ever today.

"Seiya-kun?" The light voice intrudes on her melancholy pity party. Usagi stands before her, using one foot to hold the door of the Crown Arcade open as she juggles a mountain of packages that dwarf her small figure. She's wearing white earmuffs the size of her hair buns and her cheeks have pinkened from the cold.

Seiya catches herself before calling her Odango this time, remembering the flinch the petite girl is so bad at hiding whenever she slips.

"Usagi." She greets her, trying to inject a little warmth into her tone. The blonde places her packages just inside, and leans against the open door, looking at Seiya curiously. Seiya can hear the sounds of laughter drifting from the arcade, and clinking dishes too. Though the closed sign hangs in the door, this window is bright and welcoming. It beckons, promising momentary relief from the burdens that hang heavy around her neck. Almost against her will, Seiya's feet move towards it. She backtracks quickly, stepping away, stepping back into the blank gray evening.

"Where are your brothers?" Usagi cranes her neck to look behind Seiya as if expecting Taiki and Yaten to leap out waving jazz hands.

"Home." It's a lie and it stabs at her so hard that her hand flies to her heart to assuage the pain.

"But it's Christmas." Usagi is dumbfounded. Her impossibly wide blue eyes examine Seiya critically and the taller woman squirms under their gaze. They are eyes that see too much and sympathize too well. "You're alone?"

Too true, too true. It makes Seiya step back further and laugh harshly. She has no words to combat the accusation, when it is all she feels today.

Usagi's eyes soften as she tilts her head to the side, considering Seiya. Her shoulders straighten and she nods once like she's made an agreement with herself.

"Come eat with us."

Looking past her, Seiya can see the tell-tale red ribbon that belongs to Usagi's friend Minako next to the almost purple hair of her friend Rei. They're arguing good-naturedly over a turkey—well, as good-natured as Rei can look gesticulating with a knife. Ami, the little bluenette girl, hides her head in her hands as she mutters something to the tall girl—Makoto, who laughs uproariously at the comment. Haruka, the sandy-haired woman in a blazer, leans against the vacant bar with the Michiru the violinist, her hand resting on her hip. She brushes aside some of her turquoise hair to whisper in her ear and a little girl who looks like Rei in miniature follows the arcade owner's son to the table, both of them in frilly white aprons.

"Your friends don't like me," she says, thinking of the narrow-eyed glares that she'd been subjected to from most of them.

"They don't always like everyone that I bring to our little gatherings, but they'll adjust. You remind me a little of the last person they didn't like that I bro—" Her words drift off and she clears her throat as she rubs at her eyes. Her voice is suspiciously thick and determinedly cheerful when she speaks again and her eyes are bright, too bright. "Call your brothers and invite them, too. It's Christmas." She says it like the word is all the explanation that is required, and it almost is.

"I shouldn't. I'm sure you're just rushing out anyway, to go see your family. This thing—it's a family thing, I know and I'm sure you guys want to be left—"

"There's more than one kind of family, Seiya-kun," Usagi says firmly, and hooks her arm through Seiya's to yank her indoors.

Usagi's scent is nothing like Kakyuu's; certainly there are hints of floral scents (roses, she thinks) but she smells like that carnival treat—what was it called? Cotton candy, that was it. And strawberries. What she does not smell like is Seiya's princess. She isn't Seiya's princess. But she reminds her of Kakyuu in so many little ways.

"We're waiting on you, baka Usagi," Rei says impertinently, one hand on her hip, the other still clutching that knife. Her gaze flicks to Seiya and her eyebrows slam down over her violet eyes in a scowl.

Seiya scowls back. This has been a mistake.

"Well, Rei-chan," Usagi's voice is syrupy-sweet, and Seiya stops, sure that she knows what comes next. Just as Kakyuu was—is—Usagi is well-loved. Seiya knows that the apologetic smile that Kakyuu had been so good at using to gain her people's forgiveness is about to unfurl on Usagi's face and it will just be another way she'll remind her of-

"You should be waiting on me!" Usagi grins toothily and pulls down on her eyelid. "Nyah!"

"You—" Rei's knife clatters onto the table as her eyelid is pulled down to match and she sticks her tongue out. "Nyah!"

Motoki's shoulders shake with laughter as he motions them all to the table, and Seiya feels her own laughter bubbling up from within her. "Come on in, Kou-san, we have more than enough for everyone."

Michiru elbows Haruka in the side, eliciting a grunt from the taller woman. "I suppose we can share. It is Christmas, after all."

"Told you," Usagi manages around the mouthful of potatoes that she's already dove into.

Seiya's laugh finally bursts forth as she pulls off her coat and sits down. "I think you're supposed to wait for everyone else before you start eating," she teases her.

"I've tried to tell her," Rei sighs.

Usagi isn't Seiya's princess. But maybe, Seiya thinks as she flips her phone open to dial Taiki and Yaten, Usagi can be Seiya's friend.