The snow arrived hard and heavy. At first, no one really wanted to venture outside because the wind was swirling around. The delicate-looking snowflakes quickly turned into what felt like thousands of tiny needles slapping into one's face. Released from the hospital wing, Melody was grateful to make it back to their shared room to recover. She had grown used to sleeping beside Akito and the little hospital beds were terribly limited in space. Squishie, of course, was ecstatic to be around her again and refused to leave her side. As she continued to help Isuzu edit her latest work, she had to keep shoving Squishie off her lap.
"You big hairy distraction!" she playfully scolded the dog. Squishie bark-sang in response. Akito chuckled when he came in.
"That's the only dog I've ever met that you could lose an argument to—and Shigure talks!" he mused. Melody giggled.
"Why don't you take some time off? You've only been up for a couple of days," he said, peering over her shoulder at the computer screen.
"I tried," Melody said reluctantly, "I just…I can't stand laying around doing nothing. Even if I'm laying down, I want my mind to be busy."
He couldn't say he blamed her. Sitting next to her, he smoothed a stray curl back from her cheek.
"You know, Christmas is only around one week away," he reminded her, "have you decided what you want?"
He expected some really annoyingly noble answer, as she could be irritatingly humble at times. But she surprised him yet again.
"Truthfully? I remembered that art museum that you took me to not too long ago. I kept thinking about all those colors and how amazing all those paintings were. I draw all the time, but I've never tried painting before. Maybe some stuff to do that with," she answered, "especially Father's sunsets…I don't know that I could ever mix colors like that, but I'd certainly try my best."
He nodded, taking mental notes. He didn't know anything about art, but this place was big enough that someone around here was bound to be able to help him. Then, he remembered the thirteen stones that Shigure had painted the animal figures onto. Perhaps the dog-spirited man could give him a hand with her presents.
"What about you?" she asked him.
He shrugged. People gave him gifts all the time—he always regarded them with a certain degree of apathy.
"I haven't really thought about it," he admitted, "we haven't really done anything with Christmas here in years."
Melody finished arranging things on the page. One of Isuzu's poems was there and it curved around a sketch of Isuzu and Haru together. Akito nodded in approval.
"She'll love that."
Melody clicked the "save" button and closed the laptop.
"I'm curious about something," she said finally, "what was your biggest dream? The biggest most impossible thing you've ever wanted?"
He was confused as to the abrupt change in subject, but didn't mention it. Chewing on his lower lip for a second, he thought about it. From the time he was old enough to walk, those white birds in the garden had always followed him around. If Melody had been twenty or thirty years since she was fleshed, she hadn't always been among them. He remembered as a little boy being envious of their beautiful snow-white wings.
"Don't laugh," he warned her, "but I wanted to be a bird. I saw them always coming and going where and when they wanted and even when the maids chased them away, they could come back and there was nothing that could be done about it. They could fly and go places that I couldn't. I remember them perching on my hands and wondering where they'd been all day, how far they'd actually gotten. I wondered if they'd seen the ocean or other countries. And then I'd dream of being able to fly. Ren always said they were stupid dreams."
The venom in his last sentence was evident.
"She used to tell me I ought to get my head out of the clouds," he continued, "and she didn't want the others encouraging my 'fairy-tales' as she put it. But I snuck out one day and I asked Kureno how it felt and if I could go with him. He gave me this sad smile and said it was wonderful—he'd go hug girls on purpose from behind and see how far he could get before he changed back. I chewed him out a lot for it once I got older, but I was so jealous."
He looked down at his hands in his lap.
"It's silly, I know," he admitted guiltily, "as loaded as we are, I could hire a helicopter or a small private plane to take me, but it wouldn't be the same."
But Melody, of course, was smiling.
"I don't think it's silly at all," she replied, "dreams aren't silly. Father gives them to us to keep us alive. Being alive is more than just having a heartbeat or air going in and out of your lungs—it's about your mind, too."
He kissed her on the forehead.
"You'd make a great mother, you know that? You're so good with the kids and telling stories and everything else."
Her smile was sad, but also very flattered.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Does it ever cross your mind? Having a baby, I mean," he said awkwardly, his gaze involuntarily drawn to the top dresser drawer where he knew her birth control pills were.
Melody's hand curled around his.
"Of course," she answered quietly, "but I'm not going to be around long enough. My body's struggling as it is. I wouldn't have enough time to carry it to full-term. Besides, with all this negative energy building up in there, Father only knows what it would do to the child."
She looked up at him with those heart-breakingly green eyes.
"If I were human—really human, maybe," she said, "I'd be honored to bring your descendants into the world. They'd be beautiful, there's no doubt in my mind."
Akito had never much liked children, not even when he'd been a child himself. The babies were noisy, smelly, and always sending goo out of one or both ends. The older ones broke things, yelled, cried, and generally made a nuisance of themselves. But he was softening up inside—even when Tianshi had violently puked on him a few days ago, he'd forgotten about it relatively quickly. He was more concerned that she had gotten so sick in the first place. He didn't remember the annoying things she did so much as he remembered her smile and the first time she'd ever laughed or how even a "cool" guy like Hatori turned into absolute mush when she was in the room. The little girl had the ex-dragon wrapped around her tiny fingers. When Melody volunteered to watch her, he could imagine for a few seconds at a time that one day it might be them. And he ached to tell her what the red-haired angel had said, but he had promised. Maybe once his own demon had been displaced it would become real.
"That reminds me," Akito said, "Tianshi crossed my mind and the New Year will be here soon after that—guess who's turn it is to do the Zodiac dance?"
"I don't know," Melody admitted guiltily. He had once told her the order that the zodiac animals had arrived in, but she'd since forgotten.
"It's going to be year of the Dragon," Akito said mischievously, "which means Hatori's turn is this time around."
They shared a mutual chuckle: Akito because of the costume Hatori would have on and the idea that he'd be dancing in public and Melody because she knew Hatori didn't like a lot of attention on himself.
"Poor Hatori," Melody sighed, "I truly do want to see it, but do you really think we ought to make him?"
"It'll be worth it, I promise," Akito grinned, "and Shigure, being the writer, will tell the story just before it happens. Each of the animals has their own perspective on the race and what they were doing or thinking when it happened. I know you and stories."
Melody couldn't help but smile at that.
"I've never been to a Chinese New Year," she said, "I'm so glad I finally get to see it for myself."
Christmas dawned cold and silvery due to the snow, but this one was much more gentle. Akito was awake before anybody else in the house was—even the maids. It was still dark when he rose and put his kimono and slippers on. It was dreadfully cold and a part of him yearned to dive back under the covers and squash against Melody's side for warmth, but he didn't want to wake her with his shivering. Besides, if he moved around, he knew he wouldn't feel so cold. Squishie raised her head. Before she could bark, he picked her up.
"Listen, you little mop with legs," he hissed in one raised ear, "you'd best be quiet or I really will turn you into a duster. Got it?"
Squishie wagged and licked his cheek, making him grimace in disgust. Dog-breath was always at its worst in the morning.
"Come on," he motioned her to follow him. He let her outside, though she was reluctant to step through the snow. While she was outside plodding through the deep drifts, he dumped a small cupful of dry dog food in her bowl and made sure that her water dish was filled. He wondered why she was so picky about having snow on her paws when she'd act like a drug addict everytime someone dropped an ice cube in her water. Dogs were so weird…
Distracted by her breakfast, Squishie remained in the kitchen while he waited by the front door. The truck drove in—thankfully, the guys he was paying to keep the driveway shoveled were more than earning their wages. Otherwise, it would have been impossible to get here. Four guys got out and started hauling boxes inside. Akito signed the clipboard and watched them pile up underneath the massive Christmas tree that he and Melody had helped decorate the day before. Every single item that went underneath was pre-wrapped in a vast array of colors, textures, and ribbons. Content that his last surprise was in place, he thanked them and watched as they stared in stunned realization at who he was.
"That's Akito," one of them whispered, though Akito could still hear. Akito shrugged and closed the door. By the time they had finished putting everything in the massive living room, the maids were up and about, all gawking at the mountain of gifts. There hadn't been enough room under there, so they were spreading in all directions. Akito said nothing, just smirked at their amusement. Perhaps they did not know him as well as they thought they did.
"Well…somebody's been busy!" Kyoko chirped, "I was wondering why Squishie was out so early."
"She probably wants to know which one is hers," Akito said, amused. Then, he lunged forward and snared the dog by her hind legs. She stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Don't give me those big dark eyes! I saw what you were about to do!" he scolded her. She whined and lay down by his feet, trying to look as pitiful as possible.
"What was she going to do?" Kyoko asked.
"She's been trying to tear off the ribbons," Akito said irritably, "the dumb thing started that crap when the first batch got here. It was all I could do to keep her out of there and keep an eye on things. I think I'll just put her back in with Melody. She'll get in the way anyway."
"Since you're up, would you do me the honor of sharing some breakfast with an old woman?" Kyoko asked cheerfully.
"Sure."
He hauled Squishie back to their room and plopped her on the rug before sliding the door closed. There were times he really could love her, but mostly he just wanted to punt her across the yard. Satisfied that she wouldn't bother anyone else, he went back to the kitchen. Kyoko and the others were starting on the preparations for dinner. There would be several mouth-watering roast ducks and chickens along with several other traditional dishes as well as a few Western things he hadn't tried yet. Kyoko was shaping batter into little cakes.
"Bother! My hands aren't what they used to be," she sighed when one of the dough-balls plopped onto the tiles. She stooped to wipe the mess up. Akito felt bad for her—she was trying her best, but her arthritis was often worse in the morning.
"Do you want some help?" he asked. At the rate they were going, they'd be lucky to get these cakes in the oven today.
There was a loud crash in the background as someone dropped a bunch of dishes. Scowling, Akito turned around.
"Could you keep it down?! People are still sleeping!" he hissed. The guilty ones began cleaning up their mess and a tidal wave of whispers had begun. Akito even being in the kitchen was unheard of, let alone cooking. Ignoring them, he began to roll the dough around in his hands, patting them into smooth cakes.
"Thank you so much," Kyoko said gratefully, "you have no idea how much just one pair of hands helps out."
"I think I do," he admitted, thinking of Melody with a soft smile. He had to take his own plain wedding band off to scrub the dough away from it, but it shone softly when he put it back on. There was a tiny dove's silhouette engraved on it. Once that little chore was taken care of, they ate together in the dining room at the end of the long table. Akito didn't eat much because he was too excited—the feeling had been steadily growing all morning. He felt like a child again—like the child he'd been before Akira had passed away. It was a hopefulness he never dreamed he'd feel again.
When Melody finally awoke and came looking for him, the look on her face alone was worth it. She took about a hundred pictures of just the Christmas tree alone. All the people she caught on camera easily amounted to at least another hundred. She eagerly taste-tested a lot of the things in the kitchen until Akito gently led her out.
"I know," he said, "it smells good in there and you smell it more than the rest of us. But if we don't leave now, there won't be any food left when it's actually dinner time."
She took his teasing well and ribbed him right back: "You're just saying that so that you'll beat me to the egg rolls!"
The children of the household were awake and dressed by now and they were all rowdy and hyper from the prospect of all the presents they saw under the tree and all the desserts that they knew they'd get after dinner.
"It's time!" Melody announced, "Everybody go find something to sled with!"
She had two cans of nonstick cooking spray. Hoping they wouldn't end up breaking their necks, Akito reluctantly showed her where the steepest hill was. Isuzu reluctantly declined the sledding because of the baby, but she did offer to help the littler ones build a snow-fort while everyone else was doing it. Melody whistled loudly to get all of their attention.
"It doesn't look like we can do more than a couple of you at a time without everyone crashing into each other," she said, "so we'll have to take turns. Who volunteers to go first?"
It was a big hill. Everyone was excited, but they were scared, too. Finally, Momiji popped out of the crowd.
"I'll do it! I'm not afraid!" he exclaimed.
"Figures," Akito mumbled.
"All right. Here's what we're going to do."
Melody took the blue plastic laundry basket he carried and coated the bottom liberally with the spray. She placed it in the snow and Momiji got in. Though he was very small in stature, his knees were still tucked up to his chin.
"Now," she told him, "you'll be breaking the path, so it may get stuck a little on the way down. Just hold on tight and try not to wipe out, all right? Say when!"
"When!" he exclaimed. Melody placed her foot on the end of the basket and nudged it with all her might. Momiji rocketed down the hill, picking up speed the further he went. He let out a whoop of joy, but it was tragically cut short as he ended up nose-diving into a big drift. Everyone else cracked up.
"I'm okay!" he called.
Kisa was next, but she wouldn't go without Hiro. Akito cracked up when he saw the enormous old-fashioned suitcase. Kisa sat in one side and Hiro sat in the other. It took both him and Melody to push them so that the case wouldn't spin from unequalized pressure. By the time they got to the bottom, Kisa had spilled out and Hiro was left somehow laying on his back with his feet in the air. Hatori had turned up, sure that some sort of accident was inevitable. He said they would need a doctor on hand. Melody snidely replied that he just didn't want everyone to know how much he himself wanted to do it.
"Ready?" she asked Akito.
"I don't really feel like breaking any bones," he said breathlessly, still sore from laughter.
"Aw, come on!"
A second later, he was crammed into a white storage bin.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," he muttered. Melody nudged him and suddenly the world began to streak by in blue and white blurs with trees being the occasional black smudge. A hysterical burst of laughter escaped his mouth as wind blew into his partially-closed eyes. Much to his horror, the bin began to spin. Then, everything tumbled end over end until he finally came to rest in the snow.
"Whoah! Are you all right?" Melody called. Akito attempted to stand up, but the world was still spinning.
"I'm…I'm fine…"
THUD!
An unfamiliar laugh exploded from the crowd. Melody looked up to see who it belonged to. Much to her shock, it came from Hatori. He was doubled over, his long, lean arms clutching over his jiggling gut. And the worst part was how contagious it was—everyone else got tickled just by hearing him.
Akito finally made it back up the hill with the bin.
"Glad I've amused you so much, Hari," he said mischievously, "so that means you can go now."
"No, I really couldn't," he objected when he was able to breathe again, but the crowd of children goaded him on.
"What's the matter, my mighty dragon? Scared of a little snow?" Akito taunted him.
"Of course not," Hatori retorted, "I've lived with you since you were born. Nothing scares me anymore."
A chorus of "oooohs" echoed through the woods.
"Prove it," Akito said smugly.
"Fine."
It was hard to find a storage big enough to fit his long, lanky frame in, but they did it.
"Can we hurry this up please? It's awfully cramped in here," Hatori said.
"Just a minute," Akito said, snapping his picture, "Kana will love this!"
He gave the bin a mighty shove. Poor Hatori didn't stand a chance—the bin started spinning about halfway down the hill. Then, it turned over on its side and Hatori had a face-full of snow by the time he reached the bottom of the hill. Everyone was cheering him on, though he didn't quite know why.
After they were tired of sledding, they used the lids from the bins as shields. It was the most massive snowball fight that Sohma House had ever seen. Akito had a dangerously good arm, as they were all aware, and none of them wanted to be on his opposing team. Melody couldn't throw to save her life, she was laughing too hard. She was quite good at shielding, however, so she did much more defensive movements.
"I'm getting hungry again," Momiji announced.
"I gotta go to the bathroom," one of the small kids announced.
"Let's take a break," Akito agreed, "we can always come back after lunch."
He was tired—physically, he was more worn out than he could ever remember. His sides ached from laughing and his arms and legs ached from exercise. And he was hungry! Good Lord, when he had he been this hungry before? He could hardly wait to strip away the snow-encrusted outer layers of clothing and dig into the hot rice and other goodies that surely awaited them. When he went to the bathroom to wash up, he noticed that there were other things going on, too. His usually milk-white face had a rosy tint to it. His cheeks were like apples and his nose was redder than a cherry. His eyes were sparkling like a child's and his hair was sticking out in all directions. He scrubbed at it with a towel, as the melting snow would make him get a chill if he didn't. After he'd smoothed it back down, he went to join the others at the table. Everything tasted wonderful and he eagerly devoured probably three times as much as he ordinarily would. After everyone had finished eating and all the dishes cleared away, they all stampeded out the door again. Usually, he hated this kind of weather because he got cold so easily, but Akito was warm from the top of his scalp to the tip of his toes. All working together, they constructed a fantastic snow castle and Melody suggested that they make all the zodiac animals. She made sure that the cat was included as well.
"What's this one?" he asked, noticing Momiji trying to shape a very vague lumpy semblance of a person into a less lumpy version.
"You," he answered immediately, "you didn't think we were going to leave you out, right Tohru?"
"Right," she agreed.
Akito had never felt such a strange combination of flattery and guilt.
"Only if you make Melody, too," he said.
"Oh, that's easy! Watch!"
Melody flumped down in the snow beside the Akito-in-progress and fanned her arms and legs. She'd made a snow angel. Everyone giggled.
"Very cute," Akito said sarcastically.
All too soon, the sky turned from silver to rosy and purple.
"It's time to go home!" Akito announced. A chorus of disappointed groans rumbled through the ranks.
"I guess you don't want your presents, then," Melody chimed in. That certainly changed their tune. They all streamed back down the path, now worn with many, many footprints, and took off their wet coats, hats, scarves, and boots in the entryway. It was good to sit down at Christmas dinner. Hardly any of them had ever done the blessing of the food, but Melody, of course, took care of that.
"I know you're hungry," she said, still standing while the rest of them bowed their heads, "so I'll keep it short. But it's important to remember the real reason why we're here."
They waited.
"Thank you, Father, for this meal, the hands that prepared it, and all the ones we're sharing it with. Thank you for these people that I've come to know and love so much and the times we've had together. Please bless everyone in this room along with all the ones that couldn't be here now and help us to keep You in our hearts all year around. Amen."
For several minutes, nothing could be heard but the clinking and clattering of serving spoons dipping into pots. Chopsticks clicking against the sides of bowls as well as spoons could be heard as well. Then, as their appetites were checked, the occupants of the dining room began to talk. Melody dropped a scrap of meat under the table for Squishie even though Akito shook his head.
"Aww, come on. It's Christmas," she said.
"You're spoiling her," Akito reminded her, "she'll expect it all the time now that you've done that."
"Yeah. Shame on me," Melody said impishly, "I spoil you all the time and you never complain."
Shigure chuckled.
"She has got a point!" he said.
"Two words," Akito returned saucily, "Tohru Honda."
Shigure clammed up after that. Akito chuckled, satisfied that he'd won that verbal sparring match. He saw Kyo trying to persuade Tohru to try something and feeding her a bite of whatever it was. Yuki and Kagura sat beside each other, talking away about something. He didn't think he'd ever seen Yuki talk that much…he switched on his second sight that Melody had given him. There did seem to be a lot going on. He nudged Melody under the table and tilted his head in their direction. Melody grinned.
"Bound to happen eventually," she said around a mouthful of pasta.
Across the room, they caught sight of Ritsu. He had brought Mitsuru with him and she was laughing at something he'd said. Ritsu's eyes had The Shine as Melody called it. It wouldn't surprise Akito if he came around soon asking about marriage. Not that he needed to, really.
After everyone had dessert and loosened their belts a notch or two, they all streamed into the enormous living room. Shigure and Tohru volunteered to hand out all the gifts. The children were given theirs first just because they were all too excited to sit still for very long. Even Squishie got her own package—Akito laughed as she began to shred the paper with her teeth. Even after she'd freed her new chew toy from its decorative trappings, she preceded to "help" the others with their gifts as well.
"She really loves Christmas," Melody giggled.
"She likes the paper because it's the one time I don't threaten to kick her out over tearing something up," Akito corrected her.
There were a great number of gifts that were tagged for both of them to share such as new games (he still playfully complained to Melody that she'd gotten him addicted to video games). Only a few items apiece were meant for them as individuals. Melody, of course, was gushing over the starter set of acrylic paints and the large variety of brushes and canvases. She hugged him so hard that he was sure she'd bruised him, but he was used to those hugs by now.
"You'll get yours tonight," she told him, "when everyone else has gone to bed."
He ended up waiting a very, very long time, as they all watched movies and nibbled on treats like chocolate despite having such an enormous dinner. Finally, the house grew quiet again and the gift-paper and empty boxes were cleared away. For a while, they sat in the dark, bathed only in the glow of the Christmas lights.
"So," he said contentedly, listening to Melody's heartbeat as they reclined on the couch, "you said something about how I get my present when things settle down?"
"Of course," she said softly, "come with me."
She led him down the hallway to their room. His belly squirmed in anticipation as she slid the door closed, then reached around and unzipped the back of the dress she had worn to dinner. Watching the clock on the mantle, she said, "Do you know what happens on Christmas Day?"
"I remember that story about Jesus being born that you told us earlier," he said, puzzled.
"It's a little more than that," she answered, "it's when the barrier between Heaven and Earth is the thinnest. It's also when there happen to be more of my kind around and when we can get away with being a bit more of ourselves than usual."
He watched the second hand tick closer to midnight. The clock chimed a merry little tune and there was an odd squelching noise. Staring, he watched as two webs of flesh protruded from her back and extended out farther and farther until they went wider than her arm-span. Then, thousands of feather-shapes flowed down her skin as if being drawn by invisible hands. The feathers became white and lifted off of the flesh, leaving her with two enormous white wings. Her skin had an odd iridescent sheen to it and the blue in her hair seemed more pronounced. She turned to face him.
"For one night," she said, her voice taking on a strange ethereal quality, "you will be an angel, too."
She touched his hand and he felt an odd feeling cascading through him. It was as if he'd become weightless. As soon as he thought it, he realized he was floating!
"Whoah! How did you do that?!" he asked nervously.
She grinned.
"Come on," she said, rising until she was level with him, "we've got work to do!"
"Melody, we can't go through the ceiling," he warned.
"Can't we?"
Before he had a chance to object, they were already through. It was the strangest feeling that Akito had ever experienced—he could literally feel the solid ceiling and insulation and roof passing through his body. The cold wind and the swirling snow had no effect on him—he was wraithlike.
"Oh, my God…" he gasped, stunned beyond words.
"That's the one," she said cheekily, "and now, we fly!"