AN: Yello everyone! I am STILL alive. And I have a right on the dot holiday present. I've had this Christmas series in my files forever and I decided to give it a run. There's a new story in each chapter, and each will be some kooky holiday AU which I gave hints to what's to come in the summary above.
I'm going to try and post a chapter once a year during the Christmas season to get some writing bugs out and have some fun. Enjoy and be warned it is cheesy, rom-com-ness, Christmas miracle ridiocouslness. Thank you to Tina Century for the look-over it even after I sprung it on you out of nowhere. I appreciate you SO much!
Enjoy and happy holidays! I'll see you next year!
(Also, sorry if anyone is offended by the Ugly Christmas Sweater discord. It needed to be included and it's all in good fun.)
'Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock….'
Wool.
'Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring'
Polyester.
'Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun'
Gems. Glitter. Tinsel. Everywhere.
'Now the jingle hop has began'
Mamoru sighed in defeat, moving over to a new rack while rolling his eyes at the first ghastly clothing option. It seems this row was just as promising as the last one.
How is it that the brightest minds in the world could cure deadly diseases, push out technological advancement after another, clone full-size animals, and even make it to outer space - but no one could make the perfect holiday sweater that wasn't made of the most uncomfortable fabric and didn't have the most ridiculous image on it.
Coarse, thick, cotton fabric shifted through his fingers, each one worse than the next in design while the melodic chorus of jingle bells seemed to increase annoyingly in volume.
Impossible. It was quite literally impossible. Each sweater seemed more uncomfortable than the last.
One sweater he passed depicted a cartoon Santa Claus sitting on a chimney like it was a toilet. Another had a snowman who was 'snowballs deep' in snow. He almost cut himself on one sweater that was covered in pine cones-real pine cones. Next - Santa mooning the reindeer. One sweater said 'I'll show you my snowballs if you show me your jingle bells'.
There had been one sweater that had a shelf sewed onto it. A literal wooden shelf, made to look like a fireplace mantle. How had that even been possible? Physics has failed him there.
Christmas. It wasn't a holiday he thought much of. He reciprocated "Merry Christmas" when someone said it to him, he didn't glare at the decorations (anymore), didn't scoff at the Christmas songs (anymore), and he even attended the Christmas party at the hospital last year.
There was no hatred for it. Just lack of participation.
But god, seeing the apparel for the holiday, you would think it was some tortuous cult.
"So, you really like Christmas?"
He suddenly popped his head up from the rack, swiveling his head around trying to find the voice. The irony of that question with his previous train of thought made him paranoid that he had been thinking out loud.
A Santa hat peeked out just above a clothes rack two aisles away. Only wide, amused eyes gazed at him underneath the white fur trim.
He furrowed his eyebrows at her. "Excuse me?"
"I asked if you really like Christmas."
"Uh, no. Why…why would you think that?" Maybe he had been thinking out loud. Great, now he had to go looking for a new store to shop at if the people here think he's talking to himself.
Her eyes crinkled a little. "It's just that this is like the fifth time you've been here in less than a week," she said, giggling at the end.
Oh.
She wasn't wrong. This was his fifth time at the shop, and it was only Wednesday.
"Oh, uh," he hesitated. "It's not because I like Christmas."
Her eyes stayed amused as her one eyebrow raised, almost disappearing under the hat trim. "Gotcha."
Even as he looked back down, her eyes burned holes into him, he could feel it. While he moved down the rack, he wasn't looking at the sweaters anymore, his mind preoccupied with the Santa hat that quietly hovered an aisle closer to him. His eyes never looked up but he could feel her weird magnetic energy closing in on him.
A few moments later, he indulged his curiosity and looked up, jumping back when he realized she was in front of him, hovering with just her eyes over the rack that separated them.
Her eyes - so close now - were blue. Like his, but they were so much lighter in color and spirit.
"So, you hate it so much you collect sweaters to remind yourself how much you hate it?"
He blinked, startled and confused. "No….not exactly."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Okay."
Surprisingly, she turned and walked down the aisle, disappearing by a display.
Alone again, he stared at the sweater he was stopped at. This one had all the reindeer positioned in a line-up, complete with top hats, bow-ties, and one hoof each in the air in show-girl style. And of course it was the most garnish combination of bright red and green.
Okay, decent. Cartoony and childish, but it would get the job done. He draped the sweater over his arm.
"That's one of my favorites!"
"God!"
He spun around, heart still trembling as he again spotted the Santa hat and eyes over the rack behind him. It was like he was in a bad Christmas remake of Jaws. A Santa hat mysteriously following-hunting him down, waiting to pounce on him.
"Sorry," she whispered, closing one eye in apology.
He breathed in and out, shaking his head. His shopping trips have never been this weird, even after five times in the same store…..
Wait.
"If you don't mind me asking," he started, "how do you know it's my fifth time here?"
Their gazes locked. She paused, eyes wide, staring at him until they softened.
Coming around the corner, she sported a makeshift Santa costume with a chunky belt buckle, red tights, and a red sweater, which had a little nametag near the shoulder.
Ho Ho Ho! I'm Usagi, Santa's Helper!
"Oh."
She - Usagi - tilted her head and twisted her lips into a smirk. "Just wanted to know a little more about the customer that is single-handedly keeping the shop running this wonderful holiday season."
He lingered too long staring at her. The Santa hat just grazing the tops of the racks makes sense now. She was tiny and the mischievous smile she was throwing at him made heat rush to his face. Instead, he cleared his throat, looking back down. "Not much to tell."
"You've bought, by my calculations, 6 different sweaters in total since your first visit," she pointed out. "There is definitely something to tell."
He snorted, sliding a hand down a sleeve. "You keep track of all your customers like this?"
"Come on!" she teased. "What is it? Donating the sweaters to charity? Trying to win an ugly sweater contest? Your girlfriend roped you into taking pictures for holiday cards?"
"No, no, and no."
She flicked the white fluff-ball on her hat and crossed her arms. "Mhmmm, you sure you don't just like Christmas a lot?"
"Nope."
She huffed.
Apparently, this left her satisfied enough to leave and tend to refolding at a display across the sales floor but, still unsatisfied enough to throw him glances here and there that he could always catch (a distracting blush filled her face each time and he half-forgot about the sweaters again).
After a while of not seeing the Santa hat nearby, he tried to refocus. He needed a new sweater for tomorrow and hopefully this shopping trip will last him for the next few days.
Dwelling on his own misery, he mostly forgot about Usagi.
That is until he parted a row of sweaters vests and there she was in between, giving him another near heart attack.
"I got it! You are an internet troll who makes hate videos and your next video is making fun of Christmas sweaters."
"No," he stumbled out, blinking back the shock.
She frowned hard, pouting her bottom lip as she looked down. He did have to admit it was a bit hilarious the scene she made. Her floating head poking out between the clothes, the look of deep frustration on her face. "What is it then?" she mumbled to herself.
He released a heavy sigh and he pushed the hangers together on her face. To his chagrin, she just shot up straight and her eyes were just staring at him right above the rack, expectantly. Again.
"Can you give me a hint?"
He grunted out a small laugh as he walked down the aisle and she followed his moves on the other side.
"Come on! Put a bored shop girl out of her misery this season, customer."
He should be finding this incredibly annoying and tell her to leave him alone. Weirdly enough, he wasn't.
"Wait, wait, wait! I really got it this time!"
Again, it went against his better judgment but he stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to her. Why was he entertaining this at all?
"You lost a bet!"
He stared at her, opened his mouth, then closed it after a second.
"I'm right, aren't I," she challenged him. He couldn't see it, but he was positive she had the most smug grin on her pink lips.
He looked away and began walking away. She followed once more right behind.
"I am right! Right?" Her voice grew frustrated.
Mamoru made a beeline to the cash register.
"Hey! Sir! Can you please give me a yes and I'll be on my merry way!"
She walked with him to the counter, but she made a quick turn and got behind it.
"Izumi, go take your break; I'll cover you!"
Mamoru almost groaned as the cashier smiled at her and left out the back door.
"Did you have any trouble finding anything, sir?" Usagi asked, a cheesy smile blinding him.
He rolled his eyes and let her take his selections from his arm.
"Very tasteful choices," she complimented as she scanned each tag.
He snorted and stuffed his finally freed hands in his jacket pockets.
"Some would even say these sweaters are good bets."
Good god. His self-control snapped in half.
"I lost a bet with my co-workers and I have to wear ugly Christmas sweaters to work until Christmas Day," he confessed.
(Evidently, he left out the part where he lost the bet while drunk off his ass at an izakaya with the other interns - who had begged him to come. He only learned of the bet the next day, hungover and pissed off. Hard to believe being bad at pop culture trivia had landed him here.)
Her mouth was a little 'O'. And then it immediately morphed into a triumphant smile. "I knew it! It was my first guess."
"Actually, it was your sixth guess."
"It was the first guess in my mind."
"Okay," he laughed quietly.
She typed up something on the computer, her eyes playful and amused. "Well, I love your taste in holiday sweaters."
"Mhmm, no not mine. They specified that 'the uglier the better.'"
She softly gasped. "On behalf of my boss, I am offended that you would call our merchandise ugly."
He raised his eyebrow to the sweater that was currently in her hands. Tinsel was criss-crossed to create an argyle pattern, bells attached in the middle of each space.
"They're festive! Not ugly," she defended, folding up the last sweater in the bag. "Also, you're the one buying it! What does that say?"
"I'm someone who's trying to make it through the month without choking on wool and mistletoe."
"Don't tell me you're a holiday grouch."
"I'm not into all the bright festivities. I would rather spend time at home and enjoy the rare snowfall from a window."
"Ah, so you're more of a grinch."
He quickly paid and took hold of his new found purchases.
"I hope you had a jolly good time shopping mister…." she trailed off, waving a hand in his direction.
"Chiba Mamoru."
"Oh wow, last and first name," she said, smiling. "Well, I hope you had a merry shopping experience, Mamoru."
He noticed the true joy in her voice as she spoke, not manufactured holiday cheer - the kind he had gotten used to over the various holiday seasons.
"Yea, 5 stars," he said, dryly.
He had just reached the door before her voice rang out once more, mixing with the bells that rang out his exit.
"Come back, again! We're here to ho-ho-ho-help ya this holiday season!"
Barely two days later did cheesy Christmas songs ring through his ears again. And her voice, too.
"Back again so soon, huh?" Usagi called out, restocking the sock display. She was wearing a dark blue Santa hat and it went well with her eyes (not that he noticed whatsoever).
He raised his eyebrows, raking through a row by new arrivals. "Have to replenish the ugly sweater collection again."
He actually didn't. But, it was good to have extras. That was what he reasoned in his head when he made the decision to come by. It was strictly just sweater business.
"Why didn't you just buy like a couple of sweaters and just rotate them out each week?" she asked later, scanning the barcode tags.
"Apparently, it's stated in the rules that I can not recycle any sweaters," he explained, as the register rang up the sweaters. "It would make it less fun."
She nodded, a serious look on her face. "That is true. Very good rule."
He left again, two more sweaters secured (he originally had one but she had thrown in another with chibi Santa faces all over it).
'Silent night, holy night.'
"You know there's other stores that sell sweaters, right?"
'All is calm, all is bright.'
She was right. There were probably a hundred other shops he could go to that were much closer, had a larger selection, and could have less painful clothing. But, he didn't go anywhere else.
He was leaning against the plastic reindeer setup in the middle of the store. "Do I hear you complaining about customers?"
"Nope! Just regretting that my boss doesn't pay us based on commission," she admitted, tipping her snowflake headband at him. "I could buy the new Nintendo Switch because of you."
Another employee wheeled in a large box.
"Thanks Kaede!" Usagi said. She turned to him and outstretched her hands in ta-da fashion. "For my favorite customer, the first pick in a fresh batch of new arrivals."
He rolled his eyes, shifting through the thick heaps of cashmere, wool, cotton, acrylics - picking out one sweater that had a ton of star ornaments hanging from it. Mamoru put it up to his chest, trying not to poke himself. Usagi scrunched her nose and shook her head, so he threw it aside.
"Where do you even work that your co-workers would put you through this?" she asked, grabbing a snowglobe from the display nearby and shaking it.
"The University of Tokyo Hospital."
Surprised she didn't have a quick reply, he looked up at her, only to come upon wide eyes.
"As-as a doctor?" she sputtered.
"I'm still an intern," he shrugged. "But, yes."
"So you're a doctor in training," she breathed, a nervous-looking smile bubbling out of her. "You're super smart, pretty much."
Something changed, he noticed. She became more hesitant, unsure - nervous.
"I don't know about 'super smart'," he said, throwing another sweater to the side.
"Well, I have a friend who is also becoming a doctor and she's like the smartest person I know so I guess I just assume everyone in the profession is like a genius, sophisticated, mature-"
He watched her, how she seemed to cut herself off, fidgeting with the snowglobe so much that the glitter snow continuously rotated in shimmering patterns. "You're definitely not a 24-year old who jumps from side job to side job every season."
He was about to ask what she meant before her co-worker called for her from the backroom.
"Well, I'll make sure to go to you if I ever break a bone," she finished with a smile before skipping away.
Mamoru's fellow interns looked forward to every shift of theirs for the next following weeks, always waiting to see what elaborate sweater he had on for the day.
The constant snickers and sneaky flashing cameras followed him. But, he didn't really pay much attention to them.
Rather, his mind was too focused on paying a visit to the little holiday shop on his way home.
'Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing…'
"Stop with the face! That's actually really cute."
'A ring, and I don't mean the phone…'
Making a show of looking her elf costume up and down in the mirror, Mamoru stared back at his pained reflection. "Safe to say, I don't trust your fashion opinion."
"No offense, but I saw you come in wearing the most hideous cow-print vest once," she said, plucking a candy cane out of the bucket at the checkout counter. "I don't trust your fashion sense."
He grimaced. He hated to admit it, but he knew which one she was talking about. "I think it's only you."
She plopped her hand on her hip, head tipped in challenge. "You're telling me no one else has ever questioned your clothing choices?"
He opened his mouth for a second, but then immediately shut it.
Next thing he knew, a candy cane bumped him on the head.
"Exactly!"
"Um, do you know if Usagi is working today?"
The salesgirl eyed him suspiciously as she rang up his sweater. "Who's asking?"
"Uh, Mam-….nevermind."
"Trying something new, are we?"
A thrill ran through his body at the cheery voice behind him. "I'm trying to branch out," he said, pulling at the sleeves of the festive blazer. "But, I think I'll just stick to the sweaters."
"Good," Usagi said, coming up behind his reflection in the mirror, a snowman headband swinging wildly on top of her head. "Because you can't pull that off."
He breathed out a laugh as he pulled off the jacket.
"I also heard from a little elf that someone missed me yesterday."
"Well, I couldn't very well make any purchases without your constant commentary helping me," he said, dryly.
It was true. He missed her conversations and quick remarks. When she laughed at her own jokes. Her over enthusiastic storytelling of whatever had happened to her the other day. The whimsical costumes she wore. The overly festive headbands and Santa hats. An unexplainable warmth filled his chest every time he left and it would stay with him until he came back again, where it would grow and spread. At times, he would forget about the whole bet.
"You mean my fabulous commentary," Usagi corrected, giving him a wink while unfolding a sweater. "Here, try this on. You'll hate it."
"Favorite Christmas song?"
"None."
"Oh come on! You have to like one."
He snorted, pushing a Santa hat back into place on a mannequin's head. "I don't have to like one."
Recently on his visits, she would strike up a game of 20 questions. However, in Usagi style (which he had quickly become accustomed to), she fashioned the questions around Christmas. A game of 20 Christmas questions.
He quickly grew fond of their back and forth. She would be the one asking most of the time. He would answer. She'd either plead with him to elaborate or berate him for his answer. He'd shrug, she'd loudly huff and continue asking.
"It's impossible to not like at least one Christmas song!"
Ah, so it was criticized this time.
"What's your favorite then?" He challenged her as she sat with her feet dangling from the checkout counter.
She jutted out her chin, the bells on her reindeer headband clinking. "Easy. 'Last Christmas' with 'All I Want for Christmas is You' being a close second. Now you."
"Uh, 'Last Christmas' with 'All I Want for Christmas is You' being a close-"
He just barely missed the plush Rudolph doll that flew in his direction.
"Copycat." She glared at him before falling back into their little roulette. "Okay. Favorite Christmas movie."
"Uh, 'The Grinch Who Stole Christmas'."
She snorted. "You're totally lying but I'll let it slide. For me, 'A Christmas Carol'. Wait no, maybe 'It's a Wonderful Life'. Or no, no, maybe it is the Grinch."
"Copycat," he sang. This time it was a mini Santa Claus that grazed his nose.
"Straight?" his voice came out strained.
"Hmmmm," she walked around, back peddling out of his sight. "Maybe just a little to the left?"
His one hand braced on the ladder bar, trembling, as his other pushed the sign.
She hummed from behind him, clicking her tongue. Sweat was forming on his upper lip trying to keep his form.
"Usagi, please just tell me it's good."
"But it still looks off!" she whined.
He was teetering dangerously, trying to stretch his long body all the way up the store window to reach the flying Santa. Not to mention he had seen multiple passersby stop and laugh at the spectacle that was his distress.
"Let me go outside and see if it looks better there!"
He grunted as the doorbell rang and Usagi quickly reappeared in front of him on the other side of the glass outside.
More left, she mouthed.
To the left he pushed it.
More right.
Sweat dripped down his face. To the right.
Stop.
He held still, every muscle in him screaming bloody murder as he prayed it was finally in place.
More down?
His palm started to slip against the metal.
Maybe?
Usagi's scrunched nose was the last thing Mamoru saw as he tumbled forward into the Santa display.
In the blackness of his consciousness, Usagi's fanatic voice fluttered somewhere above him and little Santa sleighs circled his head.
"No."
She pouted, while wide, shiny eyes stared at him in mock sadness. "Why not?"
He stared at the design again. "Just…no."
"It's adorable!"
"I can't wear that to the hospital."
"Why not?"
He threw a withering gaze at her. "Usagi."
"I think it fits perfectly."
"How?"
"Don't you guys have human body diagrams and charts on the walls?"
"Yes but-"
"Exactly, so this is just like that!"
"How-"
"I'll ring it up!"
Usagi was right. It was adorable.
For the rest of his shift, he couldn't escape the jokes and gossiping of his colleagues commenting on his choice of appeal earlier.
It was amusing to hear the conversations.
No one could believe that Chiba Mamoru had come in wearing a bright pink sweater adorned with patterns of dicks, snowflakes, and Christmas tree outlines.
He didn't think he could outdo himself until he came into the shop and Usagi had said he just needed to have this other sweater that had just come in.
Next thing he knew, he was wearing the words Big Gift Energy on his chest.
Even he was starting to crack a smile at everything.
Eventually, the bet was over.
The Tuesday before Christmas weekend (he had donned a bright pink sweater with a bunny rabbit pattern wrapped around), the other interns let him off the hook in a fit of laughter as they patted him on the back, saying how good of a sport he was.
He ended up buying three more sweaters that same day. Usagi had been wearing the reindeer antlers headband this time and she had talked endlessly about how she was scrambling to figure out what to get her friends for Christmas.
Her one friend, Mako, she had figured out. A watering can ("Do you see that? It's in the shape of a rose!"). Naru was getting a dazzling pair of emerald earrings and a gift card from her favorite cafe ("It seems a little impersonal but she LOVES their chocolate parfaits"). Ami was apparently receiving a cashmere sweater dress ("I tried to buy her these books she wanted but I swear I broke out into a rash when I stepped into the bookstore"). She was, however, stuck on her other friends. ("Rei and Minako can be wild cards with gifts).
He had chuckled at her enthusiasm and how her eyes danced over her phone as she showed him all the pictures of the gifts.
She talked about how she was applying for a position at a cat shelter her mother's friend was running in Minato City. Then, she went on about her big plans to eventually start her own cat shelter - or maybe a manga publishing company.
"Or, or, or a cat shelter that also publishes manga," she said one day. "Why not both?"
She complained about how she was helping her mom with house cleaning for the New Year, how her brother was barely helping, and her dad was freaking out over his work assignments. She's also scrambling because the shop she usually goes to for Christmas cakes is closed for the rest of the month and her back-up store isn't as good to get a replacement cake since theirs-
"-isn't as sponge-y and fluffy! I swear they have elves and magic at the one I go to because when I tell you the cakes are heaven on Earth, Mamoru-"
He hung onto every word.
"Okay, favorite Christmas activity or tradition to do."
"You first."
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm a huge stickler for not opening presents before Christmas day so opening presents on Christmas morning is my favorite thing to do. You?"
"Christmas sweater shopping."
She laughed out loud at that.
He noticed that he really enjoyed making her laugh. He was addicted to the sight that she made with her head thrown back, sparkling blue eyes, mouth open and the sound of her laugh was pure joy, uninhibited in the way she let her voice ring out.
"Please, you hate buying the sweaters, you hate looking at them, you hate wearing them," she listed off on her fingers, "so why is it your favorite?"
"Because of you."
He didn't even mean to say it. It came out on its own because it was the truth.
She stared at him, wide and shocked. "Because….of me?" she repeated back, obviously startled.
It had been much too forward for him to say. "Yes, you make it…." he hesitated, trying to backtrack. "Bearable."
Her face fell. "Oh." She shook out of it quickly, a small chuckle coming out of her throat. "Right. Bearable."
He pulled down the hem of the sweater. "What?"
"Uh, nothing!"
He threw back the heavy curtain between them to see her flushed face. She was wearing the snowball headband today and it made her look like she had two sets of hair buns on top of her head now. "What'd you say?"
"Nothing, I just-" She turned around, dropping the stack of crewneck sweaters onto the display table.
He stepped out of the tiny fitting room, flinging the thick curtain back.
She forced a grin, all teeth and silly at his sweater. It was decorated with string lights that lit up with a battery pack inside the hem. "Really cute."
It wasn't until later that he figured it out. "I spend it with my friend and his family."
She blinked, looking up from the register with furrowed eyebrows. "Huh?"
"Your question you asked before," he said, watching as she slightly blushed. "I spend Christmases with my friend and his family. Other than that, I don't do much else."
She nodded, a smile warm and understanding lighting up her face even as her eyes fell a little. "That sounds fun."
Christmas was in two days.
This time of year was usually such a relief for him.
All he felt was dread.
'I don't want a lot for Christmas, there's just one thing I'm asking for….'
People bustled on the streets, Christmas Eve looming over for last-minute shoppers, families doing winter festivities, Santa Clauses walking around with bells, and one man struggling to get through the crowds to make it to the little shop down the street.
He wanted to see her one last time for some reason. Give a 'thank you' for all her help. Ask her about her plans after the holidays.
Just as the store came into his sight, she came out in a red, puffy jacket and long streams of hair falling around her as she turned, closing the door with keys in her hand. "Usagi!"
An amazed smile broke out on her face as he jogged up to her. "Mamoru, you're here I-"
"I was on my way home-" no he wasn't "-and I wanted to stop by since it's-"
"We're closing for the season," she finished, nodding.
"Maybe snag one more ugly sweater to keep me warm for New Years."
Her laugh came out in frost puffs in front of her face. He noticed a thin long box under her arm.
"Oh, did you find something for your friends you still didn't know about," he asked, nodding to it.
She paused, fidgeting with the box for a second before bringing it out in between them. "Uh, no. Actually…."
It was covered in shiny, green wrapping paper with snowflakes and a gold bow.
"It's for you."
His heart stopped, staring at the box.
A gift for him.
It wasn't like no one in his life had given him a Christmas gift before but this felt….different. From her.
He swallowed, thick. "For me?"
"Yup," she squeaked as he gently took it from her.
The street was still loud, full, busy - but everything dulled for him as he held the light package in his hand.
"You can open it right now."
He looked up at her in confusion. "I thought you had a strict opening-present rule."
She shrugged, grinning. "Well, it's close enough!"
He was going to be an exception to her rule. The heat creeped up his neck ripping the paper from the box.
It was green. An olive, darker color that gave him an inkling she had thought it would match that green jacket she had bashed once before. And it was the softest cotton. Three little white Christmas tree outlines were centered on the chest near the crew neckline of the sweater. Underneath, in delicate gold thread, it read 'This is my ugly Christmas sweater'.
His heart.
"Thank you."
It was calm but fast all at once. It trembled but it felt so safe and comforted and warm-
"Thank you so much."
Her soft smile spread more warmth on his face. "Of course."
Panic rose up his throat then. "I didn't-"
"Nope! Do not start on an apology rant. I did not expect anything and wanted to give you this myself," she rushed off. "You're lucky you came in on time, though. If you didn't, I was just going to end up giving it to my little brother."
They chuckled together. Then they stood there, her rocking back and forth on her heels and him holding onto the box.
"Usagi," he breathed.
His breath frosted in front of him, Mariah Carey's vocals from a cafe nearby edging him on in the background.
'All I want for Christmas is You…'
Her eyes were wide, expectant, waiting. "Yea?"
'I just want you for my own…'
There were a million things he could say. So many things.
'More than you could ever know…'
"Merry Christmas."
And he chose that.
Her smile was strained, a tiny hint of what looked like disappointment etched on her face. His heart twisted how her next words didn't fake one hint of sincerity. "You too, Mamoru. Merry Christmas."
His feet were planted in the sidewalk like tree roots, even as she turned the corner down the street, after she gave a tiny wave goodbye and a warm smile he could feel even as they stood this far apart.
He should have offered to walk her home. He should have told her how much he truly loved and appreciated her gift. How much he will cherish it.
He should have confessed to her that the bet was done a long time ago. The only reason he kept coming was to see her.
He should have asked her what her phone number was.
Should have asked her what she was doing after Christmas.
'All I really want for Christmas is you…'
Another holiday season had come and passed. People return to work, errands, and life as if everything around them pauses when the holidays of Christmas and New Years come upon them. As if those events created a stillness in the air, where anything could happen.
All the seasonal store fronts and Christmas festivities closed and disappeared from Tokyo's bustling streets.
That included a cozy hole in the wall shop that sold the weirdest, ugliest sweaters he had ever seen with a makeshift dressing room that used a shower curtain as a door, and where a kind, funny, breathtaking salesgirl had worked.
A girl, whose laughs and smiles he couldn't seem to forget.
Now all he was left with was a closet full of ugly Christmas sweaters and an unexplainable cold to his heart that wasn't from the harsh winter they were in.
Mamoru stared at the empty storefront, late snowfall surrounding him. Posters covered the windows, advertising an arcade that would be coming soon to occupy the space. His heart twisted and stomach knotted.
He had avoided this part of the street since that night on Christmas Eve.
He had worn the sweater to Motoki's family Christmas. It was probably his favorite holiday sweater now, and not just because of the warm fleece inside.
He wondered where she was now. If she found another odd job to take on for the season. Had her friends enjoyed their gifts? Was she able to stand her younger brother during Christmas? Had she already forgotten about him?
At least she knew his last name and where he worked. Maybe she would want to see him again and reach out. Maybe she missed him too.
He shook his head. He was hopelessly pathetic. She had probably moved on, returning to her life without much thought to the lonely customer that spent way too much at her job.
And here he was pining for her, still recalling their conversations and interactions. A lonely, desperate man he was. Was he so socially deprived that some time spent with a kind salesgirl would affect him so much?
"Mamoru?"
A voice. The same voice that always mixed with the doorbells perfectly.
The voice that had hair odangos, expressive blue eyes, a smile so big and wide-
She was there. It was really her.
Right across from him. Staring at him like how he was staring at her - pure shock.
Mamoru could barely choke back the laugh at the sheer fabulous, twisted fate that this was. "Usagi?"
"Wow, it's so good to see you!" she said, looking him up and down.
"You too," he breathed, the smile overcoming his face.
He didn't want to use the word miracle here but it seemed something like that.
"You're just standing here in front of…." Her eyes landed on the empty building next to them and he could spot the recognition in her face.
Oh god, this does not look good for him. Hanging out around the place she used to work. It's weird, creepy, desperate, stupid - the one day he decided to walk by and she was here and - god he screwed this up, right?
He tried to help his cause, tried to explain. "I was just passing through and I just remembered that um, this was-"
"Right, the shop! God, I miss Christmas already."
I missed you. "Yea."
They stood there for a few moments, looking at each other with nervous grins and frosted breaths.
"Are you busy?"
"Do you have time now?"
They laughed nervously together. He gave her a nod to continue.
"If you're not busy right now," she said, "do you want to come with me to a cat shelter? I-I work there now!"
"Oh, you got the job," he said, recalling their conversations.
"Yea! You….you remembered," she said, amazement on her face. "It's just a couple of blocks over if you-"
"I would love to."
They started walking side by side, catching up with each other. Her Christmas consisted of drunk karaoke, clumsy ice skating, brutal snow fights, and tragic store-bought Christmas cake.
He listened, basking in each word. Relishing in her laughs, the ones that mixed with jingle bells. Memorizing her bright smile that gave Christmas lights a run for their money. Watching snowflakes fall and melt on the loose strands of her gold hair. Her skin was flushing in the frosty cold that still hung in the January air. But, luckily for him a warmth covered him head to toe so the chill passed right through him.
A warmth he hadn't felt since Christmas.