Christmas was just around the corner, and the holiday mood was well alive at the base. Like a wave, it had practically everyone swept in—save for a certain Ironblood carrier.

Graf Zeppelin had never understood the appeal behind the saccharine, festive occasion—and she was never too keen on finding out, to begin with.

Yet, if there's something she needs to be curious of, she was certain it would have to do with Strasser—Strasser, who'd always loathed wasting even one second of her time, was involving herself in preparing for something she saw as less than trivial. Surely there must be something behind it.

But no matter how long she watched—giving the destroyers the shivers—she wasn't getting closer to the truth.

As Graf thought of leaving and letting the merry, chattering bunch have their peace without her brooding presence, something happened to enter her field of vision and caught her attention.

Under Strasser's watch and direction, Z35 and Z36 were hanging a bouquet over the doorway.

Her rapt attention and small smile didn't go unnoticed by everyone there, but only Strasser dared to inquire about it.

"My, it seems we managed to gain your interest after all," she pointed out and giggled, unphased by Graf's contemptuous look.

"...Me? Interested in this utterly banal festivity? No such thoughts would occur to me."

"Ah, unfortunate. Even I recognize the merit of 'relaxation,' as did the Officer. But do forgive me for being presumptuous—for a time, I had thought you were interested in something."

Graf glanced at the bouquet and let out a scoff.

"Ah, mistletoe. How fascinating such a humble plant could kill a god."

There was a rather awkward pause after that. Were it someone else, the others would have laughed over that remark—but they wisely kept their mouths closed, except Strasser, who simply giggled again.

"Alas, poor Baldr. Such a tragedy."

"Hmph. His tragedy should be no concern of mine, nor yours. I will take my leave, and you can continue working in peace."

"Before you do," Strasser spoke just as Graf was about to turn around, "Did you realize it?"

"...Realize…what?"

"Well, did you realize you're standing underneath the bouquet of mistletoe?"

"And?"

"...I think a kiss is in order."

"What is this absurdity you are spewing, Strasser?"

Graf was about to turn tail and leave quickly without waiting for the answer when she noticed Strasser's strange smile, but she had already closed the distance between them before she could—soon, she felt a pair of warm lips pressed against her forehead, followed by a muted cheer from the crowd.

She wondered why she didn't hate it and why she soon decided that staying longer wouldn't be so insipid after all.

Strasser herself seemed really pleased as they separated.

"You see, there's more to mistletoe than just killing a god."

"...And they are…?"

"Love."