Merry Christmas, everyone.

The air feels...frozen.

Moreso than usual, heh.

Why the hell was I told to watch the river today?

Oh, right. Because after scaring the shit out of that one bard the captain wants me out of the public eye. Fair enough, I suppose. 'Demons' don't make for good PR and we need everything we can get ahold of with the public these days, if only to keep the poor bastards from defecting.

I take a breath, ignoring the bite of the cold, and sniff at the air. Clear and icy, not a hint of anyone on the stretch I've been told to watch. No, wait…

My tails burst free and wave in the frozen air as I scent a small group on the opposite side, drawing closer. An attack? Over the river...well, the place is frozen, it makes sense, of a sort…and is probably smarter than trying for a bridge, what with how Vinci and Lauren's more...enthusiastic experiments in explosives have been rigged to send those tumbling if an assault was made…

But this doesn't seem like a proper attack. Not enough people, I can only pick up half a dozen separate scents…

I lunge forwards, feet digging through the snow- and then the ice as I hit the river- and propelling me forwards at speeds just shy of a Shave. I land just shy of the group, bleeding momentum by falling into a crouching position. They halt, trying to back away, and I take in their look. Not pirates. No crew marks, their clothing is heavily patched stuff that looks…

Oh hell, it's some of their bargain-basement Revolutionaries, some of the miners Roberts has conscripted into his little temper tantrum. Killing them would just be...not right.

They look at me with wide eyes as I straighten.

"What the hell are you lot doing out?" I say, as evenly as possible. "If you're trying to sneak across, you picked the wrong place."

"W-w-w-w-we-" one of them stammers, looking near to pissing himself. I sigh, and point at one of the six who doesn't quite seem paralyzed by my mere present. "You. Explanation. Now."

The chosen miner, a burly guy with a beard that rivals that fucker from the Great Ballroom Charlie Foxtrot, blinks. "Mister Butcher Bird...don't you know what day it is?"

"Friday," I say. "If you want to go drinking, stay on your damn island. Don't need to waste bullets on you lot."

There's a murmur from the other miners, and the spokesman I've picked out looks surprised. "Um...it's Christmas, sir."

The fuck?

The miner takes my silence for an invitation to keep speaking. "It's a holiday, sir, where we-"

"I know what Christmas is," I say. "Give me a second."

I run through the dates in my head, tails retracting as I think it over. Fuck, how the hell had I...dammit, how did I miss the damn holiday?

After a moment, I shake my head. "Alright. I suppose you're here for a truce of some kind? Break bread with the enemy? Kinda expected more of you."

"We were the only ones willing to try...most everyone else thinks we'd be shot on sight or something, they didn't want to go."

"Right. Follow me, keep behind me, and that won't happen." I look over them again. No weapons, though a few of them are carrying bags and boxes. Another sniff at the air...no scent of gunpowder or blades...but I do smell baked goods. Hm. Makes me wish I could actually eat normal food, almost, if it meant I could get ahold of what smells like cinnamon rolls…

"Sir? Are you-"

"I'm fine," I say flatly, with a shake of my head. "Let's go."

"Kaneki, am I drunk?"

"No, captain," Vinci's first mate replied humorlessly.

"I think I should be," Vinci said as he watched Edwyn Roberts- the man whose head was worth six hundred million- mingling with his crew, as if he didn't care at all about the possibility of assassination.

"How the hell did this happen?"

"Christmas truce," Kaneki said. "Things... escalated from there. I think there's a party going on now?"

"You think?"

"Well, someone brought enough alcohol to float the entire Archipelago so if it wasn't before it started being one shortly thereafter."

"Huh." Vinci stared at the crowd of people who on any other day would be trying very hard to kill each other for a moment longer.

Then he smiled. "You know, I did remember to get you something," he said to Kaneki.

"If it's lethal I'm going to punt you through the hospital," Kaneki said dourly.

"Cheer up, Kaneki. For one day, you don't have to worry about anything."

Kaneki chuckled, and smiled back, thin as it was. "Maybe so, captain. Still can't shake the feeling something's off. And I'm not a fan of...all this." He nodded at the party.

That didn't make much sense...granted, Kaneki wasn't the most social of people, but it wasn't like he had an aversion to- oh. It'd been a week or two since he'd last fed, hadn't it, with all the chaos and the constant presence of people who weren't crew and wouldn't be nearly as understanding. No wonder he was on edge.

Vinci shrugged. "Head back to the ship if you feel the need. I can handle things here."

"You sure?"

"Very much so, Kaneki. Go."

As Kaneki headed off, Vinci considered the crowd, tapping his fingers on the haft of his scythe. Six hundred million and an end to this war, right there, completely off guard…

No. Not on Christmas, of all days.

They'd go back to trying to kill each other tomorrow.

Herman preferred sleeping on the Ends. Even with the lengthy walk from the ship's berth to whatever guard posts they got assigned, it was still better than sleeping in a barracks or anywhere near one of the Doge's places.

Ends was much more secure. And much quieter. He knew every sound and scent on it, and none of them were out of place.

So, overall, he was very surprised to be woken up by the sound of Kaneki swearing.

He rolled out of his bunk, Amakatta already in hand, and stalked out of his cabin onto the deck.

He stopped, gaping.

Someone had turned the deck of their vessel into a fucking Christmas theme park. Without, apparently, making a single out-of-place sound. The mainmast was covered in winding garlands, the rigging had tinsel and ornaments all over, and the deck around the mainmast and the rooms around it...was practically covered in packages covered in bright wrapping paper.

Herman's jaw dropped as Kaneki appeared on the quarterdeck, now silent, holding a single package in his hands. "Either the captain did this, or Santa Claus is real," the ghoul said, reading the tag on the present. "Kaneki- Good is something you strive for, not something you are. Merry Christmas.

They shared a look.

"Captain's fucking with us?" Kaneki asked.

"Captain's fucking with us."