Ami, usually the first to arrive at the arcade for meetings with her friends, was shocked to see Usagi had beaten her there, already seated in their favorite booth.

Yes, Usagi Tsukino, who was late for school on a regular basis and had been known to make her friends wait half hour, while she was "distracted."

That, at least, hadn't changed. She didn't blink out of her daydream until Ami waved a hand in front of her face.

"Usagi?" she asked, surprised yet again as her friend spun around to face her, a faint blush rising to her cheeks and a flustered look on her face.

"Ami!" she said a little too loudly. "What are you doing here?"

Ami felt like slapping a hand to her forehead. "We're meeting here today Usagi," she said in exasperation. "You really forgot?"

"But isn't it —" Usagi began, a perplexed expression taking over her face and her blush receding. Then realization dawned on her. "Oh, wait, it's Wednesday. I remember now!"

This time Ami did slap her forehead. With a shake of her head, the blue-haired girl sat down across from her friend, not surprised that Usagi could still surprise her.

A half hour of laughter and several hot chocolates later, Ami and her friends were discussing Christmas.

"I want some Christmas cake," Minako drooled, staring off into space as if the dessert was just beyond her reach.

"Well, I want some more manga, because Usagi's always stealing mine," Rei shot out, slamming her palms on the tabletop. She was hard to take seriously though, as it was clear to see she was still a bit tipsy on laughter.

Ami braced herself for one of Usagi's infamous, screeched retorts, but the blonde only stuck her tongue out at Rei.

Just as Makoto started talking about her best cake recipes, Ami heard the chime that signaled a customer entering the arcade. Instantly, Usagi whipped her head around to lay her eyes on the newcomer. Unnoticed by her friends, Ami twisted in her seat too.

Mamoru was standing in the doorway, shaking water droplets from his dark hair, his green coat pulled snugly over his broad shoulders. Turning back to Usagi, Ami noticed her blush was back, along with that flustered expression.

Interesting . . .

Ami broke up the rather heated debate over the best kind of cake that was forming between Rei and Mina. A grinning Mako didn't help, obviously enjoying the chaos.

"I have an idea," Ami said, trying to capture their attention. Three pairs of eyes focused in on her face. Well, she was almost successful.

"Usagi?" she asked gently.

Usagi blinked, turning back to them. "Yeah?"

"I was thinking we should do Secret Santas."

The responses to her proclamation varied quite considerably. Mina clapped her hands in glee. Mako said, "Sounds good," and Rei shrugged, her expression conveying a message that roughly translated to Eh, that doesn't sound like a terrible idea. But Usagi just blinked again, furrowing her brows.

"It's when a group of people writes their names on slips of paper and puts them in a hat. Everyone randomly draws a name, and you have to get a present for whoever's name you draw, while staying anonymous. We'll have a party at the end where everyone will open their presents. Then, at the end, we'll have a big reveal," Ami explained.

"Oh," was all Usagi said. Her eyes flicked away again, and her voice took on a dreamy quality. "That sounds great."

Rolling her eyes, Rei grabbed a fistful of napkins and viciously tore them to pieces. Unhooking her transformation pen from her pocket, Ami wrote down each of her friends' names on a different scrap of napkin. Unfortunately, they didn't have a hat on hand, but Mina volunteered the bowl which had previously held the napkins.

Each girl drew a scrap, unfolding it behind a cupped hand to keep their recipient secret. Mina had to prod Usagi in the side to bring her back to Earth in order to pull a name.

Ami took the last napkin bit. Unfurling it, she read a name, written in her own hand.

Usagi.

And the gears in her brilliant mind began to turn.

Mamoru pulled his door closed softly behind him, hearing the latch click shut. Heaving a sigh, he turned the dead bolt with a reassuring clunk, and slung his schoolbag onto the kitchen table.

Oh, winter was so depressing. The gloomy, cold days, and the dark, even colder nights. Not only that, Christmas was in the winter, a holiday revolving around family and love. Neither of which he had.

Running a hand through his dark hair, Mamoru surveyed his equally gloomy living room. He couldn't remember the last time he'd celebrated Christmas. Certainly not since he'd left the orphanage. What would be the point? Sure, the decorations were pretty and chased away the dark, but they were expensive, and it wasn't like he had anyone to celebrate the holiday with.

Motoki was very generous about inviting Mamoru to his family's Christmas dinner, but Mamoru always felt like an intruder, despite the Furuhatas' kindness. No, it wasn't Motoki he was thinking about. It was her. Always her.

If only he could have her, hold her, and he would never want anything or anyone ever again. He would decorate his whole apartment just to make her smile, even though Christmas lights dimmed in comparison to the light shining behind her eyes.

If only she felt the same.