A/N: Happy holidays! An extra-long chapter, my gift to you all this Christmas.


Christmas Special

"Len, Len, wake up! Wake up!" A petite girl with long blonde hair whispered as she hopped onto the bed.

She shook the child sleeping in it, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"What?" The child croaked in his sleepiness.

"It's exactly midnight! Let's go downstairs." She urged.

"Really?!" The child exclaimed. He sat up at once and followed the girl out of his room.

Giggling and shushing each other, they tip-toed across the wide hall way and bounded down the stairs. The warm fragrance of nutmeg and freshly baked cookies welcomed them into the heavily decorated living room, complete with a towering pine tree covered top to bottom in ornaments. New, unopened presents sat at the base of the tree, practically begging to be opened.

"Shouldn't we wait for mommy?" The child worriedly asked.

"Don't worry, she's probably already up." The girl reassured.

"Which one do you wanna open?" The child asked.

"Hmm…maybe the big one. Or the weirdly-shaped one, I wonder what that is." She mused.

Right before their small feet reached the last step, a crash snapped them from their dream-like spree. Sensing trouble, the girl quickly dashed back up the stairs, pulling the child with her against the wall.

"Not today, please. The kids will be up any minute!" A woman's voice rang out sharply against the almost stuffy room.

"You think I wouldn't notice the pills you slipped into my food?!" A rough voice bellowed.

Muffled sounds and screams erupted from the dining room and another loud crash followed. But what was most frightening was the unearthly silence that came after.

The child could feel his sister tensing next to him. She suddenly pulled him up and faced him with wavering eyes.

"Run to your room, now." She ordered.

"Aren't you gonna come?" The child asked.

"Later. Just go, now!" The girl shrieked. Frightened, the child turned on his heel and dashed off into the bedroom.

Feeling uncomfortable, the child pressed his ear to the door and tried to make out any noises. It was quiet for a moment, until a high-pitched squeal pierced his ears.

The scream was like a mouse, but filled with pain.

The child heard loud footsteps coming near his room and nearly cried in terror. The footsteps stopped for just a moment outside his door, then continued on. After a few seconds, a door slammed.

Relieved that the man was gone, the child crept out and went back down to the living room. To his horror, the girl was sprawled at the bottom of the steps. She was unconscious, and blood trickled from her small mouth.

"Are you okay?!" The child ran to her, sobbing and hugging the body.

Coughing, the girl slowly opened her eyes and gave a weak smile. "I'm okay. Go back to your room."

Not listening, the child rambled on "Where's mommy? What did he do to you? What happened? Are…are we gonna open our presents?" The child feebly choked.

The girl sat up, wincing. She patted the child on his head and gave him a gentle hug.

"Sorry, Len. Christmas is over a little early this year."


An annoying, overly-cheerful song weaseled its way into the radio like a cockroach emerging from a crack in the wall and I groaned. Was it December already?

I hate this time of year. I think I bought this mansion just to be away from those nothing-better-to-do carolers and those bell-ringing Salvation Army people groveling for money. Ridiculous peasants ruining on otherwise, perfectly good month.

The house is dark, cold, and bears no trace of the holidays whatsoever. It rivals the home of Ebenezer Scrooge in terms of chilliness.

Some of the servants attempted to decorate the house and be cheery a couple of years ago. After what I did to them, that certainly won't be happening again anytime soon.

Ding Dong!

The doorbell rings for the first time in years. Who on earth could possibly be coming to my isolated mansion?

Curious, I stride out of the study and downstairs. To my surprise, she has already beaten me there.

She smiles and greets the delivery man, signing a piece of paper. That smile…I haven't seen it in a while. Why did she have to smile at another man? Those lips belong me alone.

Before I can ponder over which weapon to stab the man with, she skips away with a large box in her hands, happiness painting her face. What did she order? And what was she thinking?

"Rin!" I shout.

She freezes and nervously looks up at me. "What is it?"

"Don't you dare order things online anymore; it gives away my address to people." I snap.

"Well what was I supposed to do? You practically put the house on lock-down so I can't leave." She retorts.

Suddenly a thought pops into my head and I glide across the room to meet her. "How did you even order? There's no signal or Wi-Fi here."

She pales and squirms, clearly thinking of what to say. After a moment's hesitation, she confesses "I…might have installed a router…"

"What?! When?!" I demand. Now my house can be tracked from anywhere in the world.

"Um…like…a week ago? Sorry." She offers.

I loudly exhale and run my fingers through my hair. I'll have to get rid of it. "Where is it?"

"My room." She peeps in a small voice.

I follow her back up the stairs and all the way across the house, where her room lies. She grudgingly pushes open the door and lets me in. The small black router sits in the corner of the room amid a tangle of wires.

Exasperated by her reliance on electronics, I walk over and begin dismantling it. She watches with disappointment and dismay on her face, but is too scared to resist. Instead, she opens up the box and begins pulling out decoration after decoration.

By the time I manage to pull out all the wires and toss the object out of the window, she's transformed the plain room into a catastrophic wonderland. Garlands, candy canes, snowflakes, snowmen, and stockings smother the room with unnatural amounts of glitter.

It looks as though Christmas itself had come and violently vomited all over the place, then thrown a miniature tornado into it for good measure.

She appears pleased with herself and beams. The childish glee written over her features are rather cute, but my tradition of ignoring the holidays has sadly come to an end.

"It looks so much more fun and festive now, huh?" She exults.

I roll my eyes and mutter "I hate Christmas." as I exit. She glances at me with confusion.

As I walk back to my room, I can't help but notice the deep contrast between my mansion and her newly decorated room. Would she be willing to spend the holidays in this dark and gloomy place?

I spend the entire night making preparations.


December 25, 2014

Scarcely after the sun had risen, her shrieks of delight consumed the house and pierced my eardrums. I sighed and slowly got out of bed, pulling away the sheets and standing up to stretch.

My bare skin is greeted by cold air, as usual, but with a tinge of warmth seeping in from another room. I run my fingers through my messy hair and wince at the commotion downstairs. Why did she have to wake up so early? I'm exhausted.

She barges into my room in minutes, panting and suppressing a grin rather poorly.

"Did you do this?" She gasps.

"I've done many things. If you're referring to the catastrophe in the living room, then I suppose so." I sardonically respond.

Her smile breaks free from her restraint and she giddily rushes forward as though she wants to hug me. Her tracks abruptly stop upon seeing my exposed chest and she hastily turns around.

The corner of my lip quirks up and I walk right behind her, pulling her into an involuntary back hug.

"Like what you see?" I tease.

She clears her throat and skids forward a couple of steps, away from me. "Anyways, thank you."

I pull on a loose sweater hanging on the back of my chair and walk past her. "Well don't just stand there."

We head out of my bedroom and down to the living room, where my surprise awaits. Me, strolling; her, practically skipping.

A lofty, twelve foot tree sits in the middle of the room piled high with ornaments and tinsel. A wide array of presents ranging from tiny to large fill the space under and surrounding it. The fireplace crackles and burns with warm, flickering flames. Everything else remains untouched and barren.

She stares at the immense tree in awe, her eyes practically sparkling with wonder. After ingesting the spectacle, she goes around and looks at every ornament in detail.

"All the presents are for you. If there are any you don't particularly like, just throw them out." I offhandedly mention.

"Really?" She lights up even more, kneeling down to examine the assortment of colorful gift boxes.

One by one, crystalline tears trickle down her porcelain cheeks. Not even bothering to wipe them, she looks at me and smiles. Does this girl cry at everything?

"What?" I ask.

"Sorry…it's just that every year Rinto-nii and I would try to get the biggest tree we could find. I know, it's cheesy. But it still makes me nostalgic now that he's…not here." She murmurs.

Cheesy? I scoff. "My sister and I used to get up at midnight and open one present each."

She tilts her head to the side. "Wow…that's surprisingly normal."

Then something changes and she glances at the ground in guilt. "But I didn't get anything for you."

I saunter over and crouch down in front of her, placing my hands on her shoulders. My tongue darts out and I lap up a salty tear.

"Oh please, you know very well what I want." I purr.

Not reeling back or pushing me off of her, she gapes for a brief moment then sweetly smiles. Turning her head to the side, she gently presses her lips against my cheek.

Leaving them there for just a brief moment, she brushes the ends of my bangs with her fingers and blushes. "Thank you, Len."

The spot on my cheek burns. I feel my heartbeat quickening and lick my lips in desire. My hands tighten on her shoulder of their own accord and I stare into her eyes.

The jubilance and playfulness dancing in them ignite an entirely new feeling inside me. "Let's go play in the snow." I blurt out, and mentally stab myself.

She is pleasantly surprised and readily agrees, excitedly scrambling away to get her coat. I just need to cool off.


Bundled up in heavy jackets, scarves, and gloves, we exit through the back door. A thick layer of pure white snow covers the withered lawn, completely transforming its exterior.

She giggles in delight and throws herself onto it, ridiculously sweeping her limbs up and down.

"What are you doing?" I question.

"Making a snow angel." She cheerfully replies. "Come on, try it!"

"No."

The cold air stings my uncovered face and I grimace. Yet the place where her lips grazed my cheek continues to scorch even in the frigidity. How interesting.

Sunlight bounces off the pristine whiteness and blinds my eyes. Averting my gaze, I kneel down and pick up some snow in my palm. The dense material easily crumbles in my hands.

I pull off my gloves and swirl my finger in the powdery slush, making rough lines and obscure shapes. The freezing wetness numbs my skin and I involuntarily shiver.

A jagged chunk of ice pierces the tip of my finger, slicing it open. Drop of ruby red blood stain the surface of the snow, seeping into it. Ignoring the pain, I squeeze the cut and watch more blood dribble out and cascade into the ground.

"Hey Len, do you have any carrots?" She shouts out, breaking my train of thought.

I look up and see a haphazardly made snowman nearly as tall as she is. Two sticks jut out from its side while stones produce a smiling face on the top lump. She has taken off her own pink scarf to adorn its "neck".

"What would you need a carrot for?" I say.

As she is about to respond, I take out a small pocketknife from my coat pocket and ram it into the snowman's head. The blade further cuts my injured hand and blood streams from where I touched it.

She gasps and pouts. "Hey! It doesn't look right." Then she notices the blood trickling down the snow. "Blood? Are you okay, Len?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She takes a step forward to examine me, then halts while a mischievous grin manifests on her face. Stealthily, she scoops up some snow and pats it into a ball. Already, I can see where this is going.

"Don't throw that at me." I command.

"I'm not going to throw it." She poorly lies.

I walk towards her. "Do I look like the type of person who would enjoy a snowball fight?"

She raises the arm holding the snowball ever so slightly. "More like the type of person who would bury sharp rocks in one."

I dart forward and grab both her wrists, locking the both of us in place. "Been there, done that."

She gulps and tries to back out of my grasp. "And who was the unlucky victim?"

I tighten my hold and lean closer. "Anyone who poses a threat to me. Or you."

She opens her mouth a bit, but doesn't say anything. Our eyes fixate on each other and I scan her alluring face. Bit by bit, I inch closer.

Our lips are barely a centimeter apart as I feel heat rise between us. The desire I had previously suppressed rises again. Her breathing accelerates and her warm breath tickles my chin.

I lean in.

A tree rustles and a mass of snow hurtles towards me, knocking us to the ground.

Still clutching her wrists, I lay sprawled on top of her small body. Her eyes are tightly shut while her hands are scrunched up into little fists. Her heart thuds loudly against my chest, even through the many layers of fabric.

I feel something warm pushing against my lips and glance down to see her pink lips against mine. They're soft, and give off a sweet scent. Lip gloss?

Her eyes snap open and she flushes red. She struggles, but I hold her in place with my superior position.

Tentatively, I part my lips and brush my tongue against hers, asking for entry. She keeps her lips closed and turns to the side, denying me access.

Shrugging, I shift my position so that I loosely straddle her instead of lying on top of her.

"Aren't you going to resist?" I probe.

She doesn't answer, but averts her gaze. I guess she finally realized that her efforts would be futile.

I release her wrists and move my hands to her back, pulling her up into a sitting position. Her hands instinctively move to the ground, supporting her upper body. My eyes trail over her neck, bare and as pale as the snow around us.

Something white floats into my line of sight.

Snow drifts from the sky, falling and melting onto both the surroundings and us. The air becomes thick with flurries of snow and she gazes in wonder. Everything becomes coated with a thin layer of white powder, including us.

A large, pristine snowflake lands on her neck and melts upon contact. She shivers from the cold ever so slightly, but noticeably.

I slide my hands away from her back and strip off my dark blue scarf. She turns to me just as I drape it around her shoulders, shielding her skin from the cold. Flustered, she mumbles out a thanks and draws the cloth around herself.

She notices my cut hand and sharply inhales. "Len, your hand."

"It's fine." I say.

"No it's not." She sit up and grasps my hand in hers, scrutinizing the cuts across my palm and finger. "We should get this cleaned up."

She immediately scrambles to her feet and yanks me up with her, dragging us both back inside.


I watch her as she dabs a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol at my wounds, disregarding the stinging pain. She bit her lower lip in concentration while she carefully bandages them. The evident concern standing out against her features is foreign to me.

"There. All done." She states while sighing.

I reach my freshly bandaged hand out and tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "You have my deepest gratitude."

She rolls her eyes. "Aren't you the one who said this isn't some 19th century romance novel?"

"I see you've taken the time to remember my words." I joke.

She stutters and blushes, wringing her fingers together.

Chuckling, I pinch her cheek and head back to my library.

A small tug at my sleeve pulls me back and I glance back to see her holding my sweater, nervously pulling me back.

"What is it?" I inquire with a half-smile.

"U-Um…since it's the holidays, do…do you wanna have a…meal with me?" She peeps out.

"It would be my pleasure." I respond. She cutely cracks a small smile.

I gaze in amusement as she runs around the kitchen, tossing things into the oven and stirring bubbling pots of…stew? Broth? Something.

"It was under my assumption that my chefs would be cooking." I say.

"Well…I felt bad that I didn't get you anything for Christmas so I figured I could at least make us food." She stammers.

I raise an eyebrow. "How domestic of you. You would make a wonderful wife."

At this, she turns and frowns at me. "I'm a feminist. Women should not be subordinated into cooking and cleaning."

"Of course not." I rise from my seat and go over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "Women are great for many things."

"T-The ham is burning!" She exclaims, and breaks free from my clutch.

I laugh while she continues her cooking frenzy, only a bit pinker than before.

After about half an hour, she proudly emerges with an array of holiday dishes. Turkey, casserole, dinner rolls, stuffing, beans, and pumpkin pie.

"Are you sure you aren't getting this mixed up with Thanksgiving?" I ask.

"S-Shut up! This was all I could think of." She mumbles.

She expertly arranges the dishes and even lights a few candles to set the scene. Though I prefer using candles for something much different.

The food is surprisingly good, well-seasoned and scrumptious. Its quality even rivals some of my best chefs.

Her table manners are impeccable as she takes small, delicate bites while expertly handling her utensils. Combined with her nice dress, one would mistake her for a princess straight out of a storybook.

"Enjoying the meal, your highness?" I tease.

She tenses and turns pink in embarrassment. "H-How did you know?"

Now my curiosity is peaked. "Know what?"

"N-Nevermind." She awkwardly looks down and continues eating.

"Tell me." I order.

She cringes and sighs. "Um…don't laugh…but when I was little, my dream was to become a princess when I grew up. And maybe…I never really let go of that dream."

So her wish is to be royalty? Amusing, for her age.

The meal continues in silence, and the night soon begins to fall upon us. We must have spent longer than I thought in the snow.

"Hey Len…" She begins. "Will you sing me a Christmas carol?"

I balk at the idea. Carol? I absolutely hate Christmas songs. They're all overly cheery and festive, to the point of sounding fake.

But she stares at me with wide, puppy dog eyes and pouts just a bit. My hands clench into fists. Where did she learn that dangerous expression?

Sighing, I think of a slightly less revolting song and open my mouth to sing.

Silent night, Holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin, mother and child
Holy infant, tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.

Silent night, Holy night
Son of God, love's pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord at thy birth
Jesus, Lord at thy birth.

Silent night, Holy night
Shepherds quake, at the sight
Glories stream from heaven above
Heavenly, hosts sing Hallelujah.
Christ the Savior is born,
Christ the Savior is born.

My eyes involuntarily grow wet with tears and I quickly wipe them away, hoping she didn't notice. As I finish, I look over at her.

She is dozing off with her head resting on her hand, elbow propped on the table. A faint smile graces her lips as she drifts into a deep sleep. All that food must have put her to sleep.

Suppressing a laugh, I gather her into my arms and carry her into my room. I lay her onto the bed and pull the sheets over her, careful not to wake her. She stirs and shifts onto her side, while her smile widens despite a tear slipping out from the corner of her eye.

I get into bed next to her and lie on my back. She looks so peaceful, so angelic in her sleep. Perhaps she was sent down by God to be my salvation in this world.

"Merry Christmas, Rin." I murmur.