A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Here's that TPS chapter I promised. I miss updating weekly, but I accidentally fell in love with writing an Ever After AU so apparently that's happening now. Expect it sometime in very early 2019.

Anyways, thanks for the new follow and review! Zain, love that you caught the episode 5 reference! I think you'll like what happens with the group this chapter. As for the "operation start" line, hm, it seems Naoi is adopting some of Yuri's phrases! Common thing to do with a loved one, so I've heard (which makes me love their "Fine, whatever"s in canon that much more).

I'm posting this early for season's reasons. Enjoy!

[Chapter 34]: Blessings

December was a bad month for a potter to have a birthday.

December meant shopping – for Christmas, for Oseibo, and for New Year's. Around this time of year, the flood of customers intensified. People came in for their cookie jars, their sake sets, their vases and tea pots. Ultimately, when it came down to it, Ayato would spend most of the time that month making and selling gifts for someone else. This was not new.

So to him, the 17th was just the last Friday before the closing ceremony. The last Friday he'd spend with Yuri before Kimito dragged him into the shop full-time for the winter rush.

At least it would only be a couple of weeks this time. That thought got him out of bed early, and lessened the effects of his mother's sad smile as she served him breakfast. Every year without fail, the exact same pinched smile, the exact same demure lilt of a "happy birthday." He wasn't sure if that was better or worse than his father not saying anything.

To his credit, Ayato did remember the man muttering, "Never had birthdays when I was growing up," even back when they'd celebrated with Hayato. The December after they lost him, his mother had been too upset to push the matter – and thus the birthday hype died with him.

Kimito shoved him out of the workshop a couple of minutes earlier than usual, which Ayato accepted passively as a meager birthday present. He trotted down the path, finishing off a crisp apple, until he came to the fork where Yuri was just arriving. She broke into a little jog when she spotted him.

"Good morning! Happy birthday, Ayato!" she said brightly.

He blinked at her; she'd obviously had her morning dose of caffeine. "You're oddly cheerful for someone who forgot to get me a present," he teased, taking another judgmental bite of fruit.

Yuri scoffed as she slid her backpack off her shoulders. "Stupid, I wouldn't carry it out in the open for it to get stolen." She unzipped the bag and fished around in it. He heard paper crinkling inside and eyed it with mild curiosity.

Triumphantly, she procured a colorfully wrapped package and plopped it into his hands. The weight of it surprised him, it was rectangular and book-sized but felt slightly heavier than expected. He stared doubtfully at the gift, weighing it in his hands. Did she want him to open it now, or—

"C'mon!" Yuri said impatiently. "Half the fun of gift-giving is the reaction. Don't hold out on me."

He rolled his eyes, but tore carefully at the paper. Despite Yuri's pained look, the wrapping looked too pristine and respectable to ruin. Various shades of green and shimmering gold with tiny red flowers mixed in. Once unsheathed of its shell, which he handed to Yuri, he was holding a spiral-bound wooden sketchbook. Painted dark green, his name had been carved into the cover: 直井文人.

Ayato Naoi.

Tracing the grooves, he took more than a moment to admire the cover. It had an earthy elegance, which he could appreciate, but it was the engraving that threatened to steal his breath. It made it that much more… personal.

He looked up at Yuri, whose grin had carved even deeper into her cheeks.

"Open it," she urged him.

Snorting at her enthusiasm, he obeyed. The entire first page had already been christened with a loving ink-stained message: THIS! IS NOT! A TEXTBOOK! He laughed and shook his head at her. "Probably shouldn't beat anyone with this."

She beamed, obviously very pleased with her joke.

"I know you're not as art-obsessed as Kurimu," she said with a shrug. "But you've mentioned at least once that you used to like to draw." She mellowed a little, looking unsure. "And since you notice details a lot, and you like the outdoors, I thought…"

"Thanks." He honestly didn't know what else to say. Whatever he was feeling, it was so foreign to him. He couldn't understand why; it wasn't the first time Yuri had done something for him. He flipped through the pages, restless. "This is…"

There was another flash of black and white as something slid out from between two pages. What was it, a bookmark? They both made a sound of protest when it fluttered to the ground. Balancing the book in his arm, he went to pick it up just as Yuri did. He pulled away when their fingers brushed.

"My bad, I thought it'd be safe in there," Yuri said, handing it to him.

He took it, eyeing it for a moment before giving her a questioning look. "A pinwheel?"

Yuri shuffled a bit. "Well, you made me something. I thought it was only fair that one of my gifts was something I made." She flicked absently at the black and white petals. "Besides, remember when we agreed you'd make a good hypnotist?"

He pointed the pinwheel at her, holding it in front of her eyes. The wind wasn't strong today so he gave it another flick. "Is it working?"

Yuri stared blankly at it. "Oh yes," she said in a sarcastic monotone voice. "I'll do everything you say."

"I like the sound of that," Ayato told her.

Cheeks going an interesting shade of puce, she batted indignantly at him. "Shut up!"

They had to be getting to school soon, so he opened his bag and started to put the sketchbook away. Then he frowned in concern at the pinwheel in his hand. She'd made this for him? It was simple but well-crafted, and he didn't want it to get ruined in his backpack.

"Where should I put this?" he wondered aloud to her. "I don't know if it's safe in here, it could get crumpled."

"It should be safe in the sketchbook," Yuri reasoned, then rubbed her chin as she reconsidered. "Wait, but then it could fall out again. Just—hey, come with me!"

He barely had enough time to pick up his bag before Yuri grabbed his wrist and pulled him down a certain path. She didn't stop at the bridge, but instead led him underneath, their shoes squishing faintly in the silt of the riverbank. Then she held out her hand, a puzzled Ayato let the pinwheel drop into her open palm, and she fixed the pinwheel horizontally into a nook of the bridge. After adjusting it as one would tighten a hair bow, she set her hands on her hips.

"There!" She turned to him with a nod. "A little incentive for you to come back here later, so I can give you your other gift."

"You—" Ayato squinted at her in disbelief. "What other gift? You've already given me two!"

Yuri just shrugged.

"Come on." She gave his sleeve a quick leading tug before she started up the incline towards the trail. "We're going to be late for school."

"Yuri!"

"I didn't bring it with me!" she said impatiently. "It's kind of big. You wouldn't want to haul it around the entire school day."

That wasn't the issue! Unbelievable, this woman!

He sighed, zipped up his backpack, and followed her onto the trail. The "operation start!" from last week rang tauntingly in his head.

Honestly? He should have known better than to challenge her.

At school, the other four crowded him with birthday greetings. Hejjiguchi tried to sing at him; Ayato had to beg him not to. While Kurimu and Ami comforted the boy's poor ego, Masuda plopped a gift onto his desk that turned out to be another volume of Kamisama Suzuko.

"Ami and I stopped by the bookstore on our way home the other day," Masuda explained. "We knew you were enjoying the series."

"We were supposed to wait until lunch!" Kurimu squeaked in dismay, while Hejjiguchi looked wildly jealous behind her.

Ayato, bewildered by the gesture, felt even more confused at Kurimu's protests. "What's at lunch?"

"Nothing!" Kurimu squeaked again, at the same time that Hejjiguchi said, "Stuff."

How contradictory. He scratched his head after they went to their seats. But admittedly, he was content to read off and on for a few class sessions. Masuda was right to give it to him early.

At lunch, Hejjiguchi tossed him a thing of almond crush pocky from the vending machine; he deemed it an acceptable offering. "And you lived?" he asked in mock wonder, which earned him an eye roll and a sarcastic chuckle.

Ever so chipper, Kurimu made a grand show of handing him a package. He narrowed his eyes at her, then at Yuri, who looked fairly interested in the exchange. He paused, suspicious, then unraveled it. A bag of plastic yellow pieces.

"Glow in the dark stars!" Kurimu said in great joy, clasping her hands together. "They stick on the walls and your ceiling and make your room look like a universe."

Ayato shook the bag contemplatively. Save for some bookshelves, his walls were rather bare…

"Yuri mentioned you liked looking at the stars," Kurimu continued, and Hejjiguchi and Ami gave her weird looks for some reason. "She thought—"

"Eh!" Yuri yelped through her teeth.

Kurimu squeaked back, slapping a hand over her mouth like she'd said something she shouldn't have.

He might not have caught on before, but the wave of embarrassment between the two girls was damning enough to make his brain go into analytical mode. Three seconds and the truth hit him.

"You!" He turned to Yuri, aghast, and frowned heavily at her. "You told them to get me gifts?"

"Don't get mad at me!" she said, aggrieved. "I couldn't decide what not to get you!"

"You—what?!" He didn't know whether to feel amused, patronized, or just plain overwhelmed by all this. How many was it going to be now, six? Six gifts?!

"Hey, we all agreed that you getting zero gifts wasn't cool," said Hejjiguchi.

Yuri added, "And I knew you wouldn't let me give you a bunch."

"So we really wanted to help out," Ami chirped, with Masuda giving a decisive nod alongside her.

"If it helps, she just talked over the ideas with us. We bought the gifts ourselves."

"Because we wanted to," Kurimu finished.

He frowned at all of them, still wary, eyes narrowed into slits. They had known each other for a long time, but by his standards they had only been friends – close acquaintances, allies? — for a month. Maybe a month and a half. Why were they buying him gifts? Why were they like this?

God, the things she got him into…

Finally, he leaned back in his seat with closed eyes and a vanquished sigh. "You're smothering me, wench."

She lightly elbowed his arm. "Pinwheels and stars, Ayato. It's not like I bought you a house."

He opened one eye. "But you told me you had something big and you were going to give it to me later," he reminded her. Hejjiguchi looked wildly interested, as did some students passing their table.

"It's the last one, I promise," Yuri said, and aimed a withering look at Masuda. "And enough with the pervert music!"

Masuda took his finger off the button and slid his phone aside, sufficiently chastised.

Yuri and Ayato walked home together after school, but of course she didn't have the gift on her and he didn't have time to drop by her house. They agreed to arrange for a later meeting via walkie talkie.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. He ran the store, swept the front and back room, mixed glazes, and helped with painting. The whole time, as he'd done every year, Kimito kept to himself and restrained his tongue as well as his hand. He did, however, occasionally strike other things (e.g., the wall, the edge of the sink, the counter) to let him know how much he wanted to hit him. Otherwise, the man communicated in detached grunts and growls until their shift was over and it was time to close up for dinner.

His mother had potato korokke and a small cake waiting for him, which was nice. She didn't sing. They just didn't do that in this family. Not that he minded. He finished eating and began to ask if anything needed done in the workshop this evening, but was stopped by Kimito's exasperated voice.

"Just stay out of my way tonight," the man said gruffly. He got up from the table and headed outside.

Ayato took that as his cue to be dismissed from the table as well. He took to his room and quietly contacted Yuri while Kimito was in the workshop. When his father came back in, he read Kamisama Suzuko until his parents' bedroom door closed and the light turned off. All in all, one of his better birthdays.

As soon as the snoring sounds poured into the hall, he crept carefully downstairs in the darkness and snuck out the back door.

Yuri, as promised, was waiting for him under the bridge and flicking at the pinwheel. Though he couldn't see the effect in all the surrounding darkness, he could hear the whirr of the petals spinning. They slowed to a stop as Yuri left her post to approach him, hands behind her back.

"Last one," she promised again. "Like I said, it's not a house. It just couldn't fit in my backpack with everything else."

She revealed the mystery gift – a table-top Christmas tree adorned with strands of lights and fake baubles. Upon request, he pressed a button on the tree-stand. The lights came alive with color.

"Battery operated," she explained when he turned his gaze back to her. "Now when you're holed up in your room, at least it's festive."

"Six presents, Yuri."

"Three," she said, crossing her arms.

He weighed the tree in his palms, privately marveling at the way it lit up their secluded spot with a warm glow. The crystal star at the top reflected in Yuri's eyes, a powerful sparkle that made him soften a bit.

"Fine, three," he amended. "And you got the others to do the rest."

"Because they like you, stupid." Yuri's pursed lips curved up in faint amusement. "Haven't you noticed?"

Ayato sighed, shifting the tree under his arm.

"Still… three presents, really?" He felt overwhelmed just saying it. "That alone is… it's too much. If you remember, I didn't even get you one."

Yuri cut her gaze to the side, watching the pinwheel pick up and wrapping her arms tightly around herself for warmth.

"You got me exactly what I wanted," she said quietly. "We've been over that."

He moved past her to retrieve the pinwheel from its nook, sticking it in his front pocket. "And if my father sees all these gifts, where do I tell him they came from?"

The question stung her like a nettle; she turned to him, eyebrows piqued in an embarrassed epiphany.

"I didn't think of that." All resolve faded from her eyes, along with any remaining traces of a grin. She knew as well as he did that he still wanted to keep Kimito out of their business. "If you said you bought them yourself—"

"He'd certainly have something to say about me wasting my money," said Ayato.

Yuri nodded. "So it's a good thing that Kurimu and Masuda bought everything at a reasonable price," she said slyly, "and you made the pinwheel yourself."

He scoffed at her attempt at subtlety. "Whatever you say."

"I mean they're not that hard to make. I used to do a million of them…"

Her voice got quiet after that and trailed off, fading into the thrum of river water beside them. She leaned against the bridge siding and crossed her arms again, digging at the silt with the toe of her shoe.

"Sorry, I… I didn't mean to make anything weird for you," she said, making him look up at her in surprise. "I just… didn't know how else to make today special. It's not fair that you don't get anything good. And I love giving gifts, I don't care about getting them. It's been a while since I've gone all out like that for anyone. I guess I missed it so much I overdid it a little." She added again, more sheepishly, "Sorry."

It was the second "sorry" that snapped something into place. The uncharacteristic meekness in her voice… He studied her face in disbelief, completely thrown. Was he really standing here making her apologize for giving him gifts on his birthday? Apparently he could never be polite or kind about anything at all. This was why he wasn't fully buying the part about the others liking him.

He set the Christmas tree down carefully on the silt and walked over to her. He decided against lifting her chin with a finger, though her chin looked oddly small and tiltable, and touched her shoulder instead.

"Yuri. Thank you," he said, when she met his eyes. "I'm the one being rude. It's just a shock to my system – I'm not used to anything like this."

Her features smoothed out in understanding. "I know," she said loftily. "I'm kind of trying to change that."

He laughed at that, which made Yuri smile again, and he found himself smiling back.

"Well, happy birthday," she said, and pulled him into a hug goodbye. Her tight embrace tucked him into the crook of her shoulder, embalming him in the scent of coffee and cinnamon. He frowned as she shifted slightly to hug him closer.

Had her hair always smelled of pomegranates—?

She startled a bit, breaking into his thoughts with a coy snicker. "Um, what is that?"

"It's the pinwheel!" he insisted, mortified.

Yuri laughed some more.

They made the most of the next week together, and then on Wednesday school let out for winter break. Students piled out of the gymnasium after the end ceremony, and there was an interesting blend of classes out on the campus. Ayato took immense pleasure from Ami trying to call out "Text me later!" to Yuri, only to be interrupted by a tap on the shoulder from Shiruba, whom she accidentally smacked in the face upon turning around while still waving her cell phone about. Hejjiguchi and Nezumi cracked up simultaneously, and exchanged an almost brotherly bonding nod afterwards.

This was the type of entertainment Ayato would be deprived of for a couple of weeks. He was almost disappointed about it.

Instead, he spent his hours at the store with people who thought he might know what gifts their relatives would want for the holidays. Stocking, restocking, dusting and disinfecting, keeping children who were dragged in by their parents from knocking over figurines. The number of times a child tried to make a ceramic kitten pounce off the shelf was more than zero. A mother, who had left her daughter unattended to admire teapots, came back to yell at her while Ayato stood around awkwardly trying to rearrange the display. Why did people even have kids?

The days got darker as his work hours got longer. During lulls, if his father wasn't at the store, he'd lean his elbows on the counter and stare out the windows at the winks of color amongst the seasonal black. Or, if he was feeling especially daring, he'd go ahead and click on the TV.

Near the end of November Kimito had gotten himself a gift in the form of a small ceiling TV installed in the corner of the front room. It allowed him to check weather emergencies and, during long work days, not have to wait until he got home to gripe about the news. Ayato was expected to leave it alone and not waste time or electricity. However, his mother wasn't the only one who was average at hiding things. Two days into winter break, he scoured the workplace for the remote and discovered its hiding place wedged between a fire extinguisher and a cabinet. Which was how he found himself, on Christmas evening, channel-surfing until he came upon a news station broadcasting a festively lit Shibuya.

Downtown Main Street was alive on Christmas, crowded with couples and shoppers and all sorts of merriment. It was flurrying there; even on the small screen, he could see the specks flying past the camera and landing on people's coats. The trees that the crowds were passing by seemed to have more golden lights in their branches than they'd ever had leaves.

He was a little envious. Of the snow, of the cold puff of breath coming from the reporter, of the thousands of lights and people behind her. Families passed too, happy ones. A mother and father swinging their son by the arms. An orange-haired guy with his silver-haired date, a small girl on his back that he thought at first must be their daughter until he realized the two were his age. Just a big brother giving his sister a piggyback ride, which for some reason made him feel kind of sad.

And then, a few minutes later, a shot of a pink-haired girl trying to do the same thing to her blue-haired date, shopping bags dangling from her arms. The boyfriend staggered and almost fell over, still on camera, which made Ayato happy again for whatever reason.

The news panned to the Christmas tree in the center of town. It towered over the city, looking magnificent when filmed from above. The structure reminded him of his desk ornament at home, save for the crystal angel topper. Silver wings, just like the play from almost two months ago. And something else he couldn't quite place—

"Pretty, huh?"

Ayato jumped and turned off the TV in the same millisecond. His shoulders relaxed when the voice registered as feminine, but his heart gave another jolt when he recognized who it belonged to. "Yuri!"

"Hey, I was watching that!" She did a careful scan of the store, biting back a smile as she tried to look casual. "Is your dad around?"

"No," he assured her, and she relaxed too. "Believe it or not, he's out on a date with my mother."

Her eyes bugged a little – understandable, really.

"Him too?" she said in disbelief, leaning against the counter. "Geez. Everyone's going on dates today."

"Most romantic time of the year," he scoffed, quoting his mother.

"So I've heard." Yuri rolled her eyes with a sigh. She looked over her shoulder at him then, and managed a halfhearted grin. "Merry Christmas, by the way. How's your break been so far?"

"Dismal, until you showed up." He returned the grin, coming around the counter to perch next to her. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd have plans."

Yuri leaned back on the palms of her hands. "Funny story, actually," she said. "So as you'd imagine, our favorite couple wants to be alone together today. And apparently they both had the idea to get another guy to distract Ami. Except they forgot to agree on one." Her face split into a cheeky grin. "So Shiruba and Masuda asked her at the same time, and now they've got this weird rivalry going on. And meanwhile Ami's invited me and Jinko along because she thinks this whole thing is a friendly hangout." She shook her head, laughing to herself. "You can't make this stuff up!"

Ayato shook his head too, grateful that winter vacation allowed him to opt out of this high school drama. And yet, his curiosity continued to be the bane of his existence. "What about the lovebirds? Isn't she curious what her other friends are up to?"

"Well, Kurimu told the truth – she was going to dinner. And Hejjiguchi…" Yuri grinned, still chuckling under her breath. "Hejjiguchi told Ami he wanted to go on a run, and also that she'd have to choose between him and shopping."

"Oh." He snickered into his fist – both at Hejjiguchi's decorum and Ami's likely explosive reaction.

"Yeah, she told me he'd better run after that." Yuri looked happy, possibly at the wonderful mental picture. "But anyway, I just thought I'd drop by. Pretend to be browsing if I had to. You want any Christmas cake? We're going to get some later, I can bring you a piece."

He considered. "Not from the Aoki bakery, I hope."

"Hm?"

"Ami would see her mother working and wonder who Kurimu went to dinner with," Ayato reminded her.

Yuri looked distressed.

"Shit! I didn't think of that!" she said, slapping herself in the forehead. Her features crinkled in mild annoyance, and she exhaled sharply through her nose. "They need to let her know soon. Masuda and I can't cover their asses forever, and… I don't like lying to Ami."

"Really? I don't mind it," said Ayato, still privately thinking that Ami didn't need to know everything. Yuri snorted a little.

"You really still don't like them, do you?" she said, crossing her arms at him. She leaned slightly and elbowed him in the rib, smirking. "Although at this point, isn't it just a little bit performative?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You call them a bunch of imbeciles, but it's almost like it's a habit for you. Empty words." She nudged him again. "Are you sure you haven't warmed up to them? I know you like Kurimu and Masuda. And I don't know about you, but Ami's said nicer things about you since the festival."

It was a habit for him. The derogation slipped so easily from his mouth, it felt natural. The funny thing was, now that she mentioned it, he didn't hold a strong resentment to any of them. He just wasn't attached. But still he made his snide remarks on autopilot, as if from some primal instinct.

Oh God, was it hereditary? He didn't want to think about that.

So he harrumphed, and said, "Masuda and Kurimu are close acquaintances, I only tolerate Ami, and Hejjiguchi's basically a pet. You know that I'm only sitting with them for your sake. They're secondhand friends."

Yuri eyed him like she wasn't sure whether to be amused or offended. "Secondhand friends?"

"Watered down, off-brand, not a great fit?" Ayato shrugged. "Not sure what it is. The type of friends you lose touch with after graduation."

Her mouth pursed into a thin line, and twitched at the corner. "That's mean," she said doubtfully, biting her lip. "You're saying they're just burner friends? Disposable?"

And, well, he couldn't tell by the odd face she'd pulled if she was thinking hard or just scrutinizing him, so he squinted at her in defense. "I should think of all people, you'd be the last to judge."

"I'm not, I—" She paused, pushing herself off the counter and turning to face him. "Wait a minute, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully at her. "Some friends just drift away."

Yuri frowned at him, then down at the floor, tightening her arms around herself. Somehow he could sense she was thinking of the same thing he was. The same moment from earlier this month.

They'd gone to the vending machine together, but Ayato decided he was also thirsty and headed for the water fountain down the other hall. But just as he was rounding the corner, he accidentally tripped over something on the ground. Turned out it was a small slumbering yellow-haired girl, who wasn't sleeping anymore. She screamed and he screamed too, and she jumped up and hid behind the wall in disoriented fear.

He'd gotten annoyed at her cowering ("What? I'm not going to hurt you"), she hollered at him for kicking her, he reminded her she'd been lying on the ground. In the midst of defending her apparent right to fall asleep on the floor, she'd stopped and recognized him as "Yuri's friend," the one who yelled at Hisakawa. He was reminding the girl that Hisakawa had started it, and that was when Yuri came up behind him with her drink.

"Saki," she said, wary but not unkind.

Saki side-stepped so that half of her emerged from behind the wall. "Hi, Yuri." Her voice was very fitting for her – small and childish.

"Did you take a nap on the floor again?" Yuri asked knowingly.

"I was tired."

"You're still staying up all night reading those conspiracy stories, aren't you…"

"No!" Saki quaked underneath Yuri's authoritative staredown. She wrung her hands a little, wide-eyed. "But my house is haunted again, Yuri! I can feel the miasma in my bathroom! Chitose says—"

She stopped, blushed, wrung her hands some more.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to bother you."

"You're not a bother," Yuri said, quiet but firm. Something like sadness flickered on her face. "But Ayato and I have to get back to lunch."

"Yes. Well, good seeing you." Saki rocked on her heels awkwardly. She studied Ayato, not even noticing Yuri's polite nod to her, and he felt her eyes still fixed on him as they were walking away. Then, "Yuri, do you still—" A cough. "Are you… are you doing okay?"

Yuri slowed to a halt, not turning around. Her eyes closed, and she seemed to be silently counting.

"I'm okay, Saki," she said. Then she nudged Ayato and kept walking, with a small wave thrown behind her. "Do yourself a favor and lighten up on those stories, alright?"

"You don't know about the shadows!" Saki cried out behind them. "If they get too powerful they'll drag everyone to the depths!"

"I believe you," Ayato said nicely from the other end of the hall.

Then there'd been the sound of a small body hitting the ground, followed by delicate whistling snores.

Of that entire exchange, Ayato specifically remembered the crushing ambivalence that had briefly contorted her features as she talked to Saki. It was that same look he was seeing now. A look of division, and muted pain – but pain nonetheless.

"Do you really think that?" Yuri asked, just as quiet as she'd been that day. She chewed her lip again. "I don't want that."

He looked at her, hearing sadness and a sort of longing. A longing for something he couldn't pinpoint. And yet the feeling resonated with him in a way he couldn't find the words to describe.

"Not for you," he assured her, feeling bad for bringing up the past the way he did. "I'm just being cynical again, I guess."

Still, his point remained. She'd cut some fairly strong ties in her time, surely she could understand. These things just happened in life. Connections could snap like twigs, or tree branches under a child's weight. Lives ended, changed, got busy. Graduation was over a year from now so he wasn't about to mourn anything just yet.

Yuri stood there in front of him, arms folded, mouth pursed to go with her indeterminable stare.

Finally, she spoke. "You don't… you don't think that would happen to us, do you?"

He startled somewhat, lifting his head and blinking at her.

"Of course not!" he said, launching himself off the counter in a haste. "You and I… It's different. It's just different between us somehow."

"Damn right it is," said Yuri, more boldly now as she stepped toward him. "If you think you can shake me off after graduation you've got another thing coming. You were stuck with me the moment you cut my finger."

He laughed at her, mock-indignant. "I cut your finger?"

"An artist puts himself into his own creations," Yuri told him very seriously. He fought a strong, playful urge to tug at a strand of her hair.

"It should be because I mended your finger, you masochist. No wonder you hang out with me," he snorted, and Yuri shoved him with a laugh. "But the solidarity is appreciated, as always."

Yuri beamed at him. She has a very pretty smile, he mused absently, and wondered where the thought had come from. She smirked and grinned a lot but it wasn't like he'd never seen her smile before. Maybe it was the lighting – fluorescent lamps and Christmas lights illuminating her cheekbones while they battled winter darkness. He was just glad to see it after almost killing the mood for a second there.

They kept chatting for a couple more minutes until Ami, being Ami, texted her asking when she was going to rejoin the fun. So Yuri wished him another Merry Christmas and ducked out to meet the group by the stationary store. At one point he could see and hear her outside across the street with everyone when he went outside to get a breath of cool air. Glowing under colored tinsel-wrapped lampposts, she laughed merrily with Jinko and Masuda as a Shiruba on a distracted rant conked face-first into a pole.

Although her spirit vanished from the store, its lingering effects kept a slight smile on his face. And then, with the echoes of the group's laughter in his head, piece-by-piece it began to fade.

You don't think that would happen to us, do you?

Of course not! It's just different between us somehow.

Realistically speaking, he wondered just how true that was. Yuri was brilliant despite her wandering interests. She would eventually find a path and follow it, and possibly even go to the same university as their schoolmates – her friends. She'd develop an even stronger bond with the so-called off-brand friends. And he would be here, working with Kimito full-time. Just a remnant of her hometown in Akuma.

Not that he blamed her. To escape from this godforsaken town – it was like a dream. A fate he would certainly wish upon anyone.

Ayato worked well into Christmas night, and made it through the rest of winter break. He scribbled nonsensically in his sketchbook at the end of bad days. He bought more books and Kamisama Suzuko volumes during a lunch break, and read them by Christmas tree light at his desk. At nights after Kimito went to bed, he talked quietly to Yuri over their radios.

For New Year's, lying in his bed to rest off dinner, he stared up at the glowing plastic stars on his ceiling. And he made another 2011 wish, the same one he'd prayed for earlier that day at the shrine.

Please, he prayed, his last thought before drifting off to sleep that night. If I can have only one good thing in this year, in this life…

Let me keep her.

Preview:

"We'll be needing that back."

"It looks so cozy and romantic..."

"Aren't school trips compulsory?"

"I'm not going to hide away."

"Yuri would be much happier if you came with us."

"You aren't going to pull anything, are you?"

"I didn't say that!"

"What are you talking about?!"

[Chapter 35]: Talking in Code.