Blanc leaned over her keyboard and typed furiously, letting her fingers fly over the buttons without a regard for the words being produced as a result. This entire section would have to be heavily edited and proofreaded, but that could come at a later date.

Behind the computer desk, which faced the door of her room to hide the screen, her Oracle stood a short distance away with crossed arms. Blanc peeked around the monitor. Mina's expression was somewhere between displeased and disapproving.

"What's this about a gift exchange, Blanc?"

Instantly, the typing came to a stop. Dehydration—the query stopped Blanc in her tracks and derailed her train of thought.

"What gift exchange?" she said casually, thumbing the space bar. She held down the left shift button on her keyboard and played with the keys. Space, select, delete, save, space...

"Secret Santa," the Oracle said simply. "I heard from Planeptune. Why did you decline?"

Gritting her teeth, Blanc grabbed her computer mouse and clicked around, opening a web browser and a folder filled with documents. "That's none of your business," she declared in a stentorian voice. She added, with a tinge of hostility, "Everybody's been pestering me about wasting time at some stupid Christmas party. What's it to me? And what's it to you?"

Mina ignored both questions and waited, thinking, for a few moments. Then, surprising the moody CPU, the Oracle walked to Blanc's bed and sat down, put her hands in her lap, and smoothed her outfit.

"I'm not sure what is making you so profusely opposed to a simple party," she sighed, putting on airs, "but don't you think you are going about it the wrong way?"

Blanc sat back in her chair and tore her eyes away from the monitor to look at Mina.

"I just don't want to waste my time. I'm a busy CPU who has things to do."

"Like what? Writing stories and reading the news?"

Blanc cringed at the accusations, both of them true. Mina did not—or pretended not—to see and continued her lecture.

"The holiday season comes once a year, Blanc. It may not seem like much to you, since Lowee is wintry almost year-round, but this is a special time. Do you know why people celebrate during the holidays?"

Like she was afraid to hear the answer, Blanc asked hesitantly: "What?"

Mina's lips suddenly formed into a smile, and her brash tone from before changed. "To keep their lives from going stale," she said pensively.

Fixing her scholarly hat, Mina stood up and walked over to the desk. She laid a hand on the surface of the table and looked at Blanc solemnly. Now that she clearly had the CPU's attention, her words were not accusing but illustrative.

"We can't allow ourselves to fall into routine for too long. Let me tell you a story of something that happened long before my time, maybe even before yours.

"Once, the four nations were at war. The landmasses were separate at that time; each CPU ruled from their Basilicom, which was no more than a stronghold built to house the champion of Lowee, or Planeptune, or Lastation, or Leanbox. The CPUs all needed shares, which we ourselves know are always in a state of flux. At the same time, they were afraid of losing the shares they already had to the other nations. No one person instigated the war; what started the war was both envy and jealousy. It was the fear and insecurity of four people.

"But, after a long while, the winds of change blew like they always have. The CPU of Planeptune at the time stopped making appearances to the routine battles that took place in Celestia, somewhere in the ether above Gamindustri. Rumors went about that she was defeated or that she gave up, but her disappearance helped the CPUs to realize something: If nobody is making headway then what was the point? They fought those battles for nothing, as one individual's loss would be leveled by the next person's. Eventually they decided the fighting was futile and simply stopped waging war. You can imagine how that development changed the way Gamindustri was governed.

"To a certain extent, the war is still ongoing to this day. However, the most important difference is that you and the three other CPUs are friends. While you compete for shares, none of you resort to fighting and stealing."

Mina smiled, signifying that the story was over. Blanc realized that she had been clinging to every word. Rarely did she take an interest in history and the past, yet the idea of a Gamindustri in which the CPUs were enemies intrigued her.

However, Blanc still had no idea why Mina bothered telling the story. There must have been a moral that the Oracle wanted to express. "So, what point are you trying to make? 'Keep the peace' or something?"

"Enlightenment," responded Mina. "By breaking routine and looking for an alternative to fighting, the old CPUs put aside their differences and made new bonds. Can't you see? Christmas gives the chance to become closer with the people you know and better your relationships. Friendships can bloom, love can blossom. Maybe even you—"

"Stop! I don't want to hear any more than that," Blanc interrupted, cutting off the rest of the words. She saw a satisfied smile break out on her Oracle's face. "Fine, fine. You want me to go to the party, right? Okay, I'll go."

Mina smiled and held her hands in front of her lap. As if she had accomplished her objective, she took a few steps back toward the door.

"Soon, you'll understand why I insisted on your participation. Please enjoy the holidays while you can, Blanc."

Blanc grit her teeth as she watched her hat, turned upside down, be used as a random number generator. Of all the things, her hat—and her least favorite goddess!

"Wow!" Vert squealed as she reached into the hat. "This is so soft! How I would love to have it for my own—"

"Don't you dare."

"—as a Christmas gift, maybe."

Clearing her throat, Blanc placed both hands in her lap and sat up straight. Through her rigid posture and stern glare, she let the goddess of Leanbox know: There was no way in hell she would be okay with Vert wearing an identical hat.

"Although Blanc, you do look rather cute without your hat," the blonde prattled on ignorantly. "Really, I think you should take it off more often."

"Just take a damn name already."

From the hat, Vert pulled a slip of paper and hid it in her closed hand. She stepped back, and Noire stepped up.

"I'm next," she announced as she put her hand in the white hat. She stopped for a second and moved her hand around. "It... really is soft."

After Noire, there were only two people left. When neither stepped up to pull the second-to-last name from the hat, Blanc looked expectantly at Neptune, who was watching her with a wide smile.

"Go ahead, Blanny," she said affectedly. "I'll take the leftovers."

Seeing no reason to refuse, Blanc stood up and approached her hat. Two slips were left inside, but there was no way of knowing without cheating. Maybe she would pull her own name. Before she drew hers, she looked at Vert with a smug smile.

"Leftovers? She probably meant you."

Vert narrowed her eyes and turned her nose up. "Hmph."

Blanc reached into the hat and scrabbled for one of the two pieces of paper. As soon as her fingers touched something that did not belong in her headwear, she closed her fingers around it and returned to her seat.

Neptune stayed true to her word and settled for the last choice. Then, she picked up the hat and put it on her head. It covered her bangs and threatened to hide her eyes.

"Hey Blanc, how do I look? Am I wearing it right?" Neptune walked the hat to its owner, sporting a lopsided grin. Almost amused by the performance, Blanc snatched her hat and resettled it atop her head.

"Sure. We'll say that," she said in fake sincerity. If the other CPU picked up on the sarcasm, she made no mention of it.

"Remember!" Neptune, always the self-proclaimed leader, looked around her entourage of four. "No checking your giftee until you leave! Oh, and we'll do the exchange on Christmas day, so make sure you're ready. No present for your person means no partying for you!"