Meanwhile, Fox was in his apartment bedroom room, still curled up on the bed. Earlier, he had grabbed a quick bite of an old bag of crackers taken out of the kitchen pantry, which were dry and tasteless. He hadn't really eaten a proper meal in a while.

Everything was a mess – both the apartment and himself. He hadn't washed his clothes in a long while, and the last shower he took was three days ago. He was neglecting himself and everything around him. Right now, one of the chairs in the living room was still upturned where he had kicked it over earlier today, right when he had heard Slippy knocking and yelling at the door. This was the third or fourth day in a row that the toad along with Falco had come by in attempt to coax him out.

Indeed, Fox had deliberately avoided seeing his team and answering their calls, texts and emails for the past three weeks. In the last two days, he didn't even dare go out of his house in daytime, in fear of bumping into them. He instead left home at night, heading to the few convenience stores that were still open in order to buy a few provisions.

And today, it was Christmas Eve. Fox knew this because the date was displayed brightly in red on his bedside LED clock, above the time. His time of sense was warped, and he could barely believe that it was this time of the year again. But it pulled him back into reality somewhat to see "12 | 24" displayed in red digital letters on the corner of the clock.

What was Krystal doing right now? Celebrating with Star Wolf, perhaps? He could see it in his mind: Wolf, Panther and Leon all gathered around her… This intrusive mental image brought him a fresh pang of pain. Last year's Christmas was perhaps the best he had ever spent. Krystal was at his side, and she was all that he could think about. Somewhat cheesy Christmas music was playing, and cheap decorations were all over the house, but her presence made the party wonderful. At least, that's how it was in his mind. And this year, there was no holiday party, because he didn't organize one. There were no festivities, because in his head it was dark and gloomy. Instead, he was stuck in this messy apartment building, with one chair kicked to the floor in spite against his overly nosy teammates.

…His teammates. Wait, that was right. His teammates. His mind drifted to them, and he suddenly became aware that he hadn't thought of them very much in the past while. How were they celebrating their Christmas?

Fox suddenly felt another pang, this time of guilt. That's right – every year before this one, he was also surrounded by his teammates on Christmas Eve. And since he was the leader, he invited them all to his apartment to celebrate. They always shared so many stories and laughs together. And Fox was hit with the truth that, this year, he had left Slippy, Falco and Peppy all alone on Christmas Eve, without a single holiday wish except for a chair being kicked over in response to their friendly concern.

"You should pull yourself together…" Fox mumbled to himself. "You're the leader of Star Fox, darnit! You don't need anyone…"

But it was a lie, and he knew it.

"Aaargh!" Slippy cried as he nearly tripped on the heart-shaped ornament that was still on the floor, which slipped away from under his foot with a spray of red glitter. As he lost balance, he took a few steps back to steady himself, causing him to bump into Peppy who was now sweeping the floor.

"Would you stop yelling?" Peppy screamed in reply, even louder than the sound that Slippy had just made. In his anger, he jostled the broom, which sent the dust that he had just swept up flying back into the air, along with some of the fallen pine needles.

"Sorry, but, hey, did you see this star lying around? A small yellow star that we could put on the top of the tree –"

"GUYS, I CAN'T CONCENTRATE!" Falco yelled over both of their voices.

Under Falco's jurisdiction, the kitchen had become a huge mess. In search of a bowl, mixing spoon and baking tray to make the cake, he had pulled out a variety of pots and pans and trays, most with burn marks at the bottom ranging from mild to extremely severe.

And now, the cake mix in front of him wasn't looking so great either. He couldn't find a measuring cup, so he had put in too much water. He had been afraid to use much butter because Slippy was running out. He did put a lot of sugar in, though, thanks to the one-kilogram bag that Peppy had bought. Anything tasted better with sugar, right? Shrugging, Falco took a spoon, and began to mix the concoction, mentally complaining that there the toad hadn't yet invested in an electric mixer.

When he was done, he had a bowl full of some sort of sticky goop with giant lumps suspended inside. Grimacing, Falco turned his attention to the oven. The electrical appliance in question had already endured far too much abuse during its life, a good deal of which it had probably spent with multiple past renters. Outside, the white coating of paint had since yellowed, and the metal door had a nasty-looking dent on the top corner. Inside, the metal grill was coated all over with some sort of sticky, yellowish and oily-looking substance from past cooking adventures.

Falco set the oven to preheat at five hundred degrees Fahrenheit. At the same time, he mentally took note that, though Slippy wasn't in need of wonderfully sparkling, awesomely shining, squeaky-clean windows, his kitchen was sure due for a radical overhaul.

Fox stared at the ceiling, continuing to reflect. In just under a year, with Krystal now in his life, everything had changed. He had become so fixated on their relationship and his attempts to make her – and himself – happy that he completely neglected his other Star Fox team members. But was Krystal actually happy? Was he? Fox recalled a discussion that Krystal had with him, a few days before they officially broke up.

"You know, Fox," she had said. "It's hard being with you…"

"Why?" he had replied, a growing knot of panic clenching in his stomach.

"It's like… it's like you don't really love me." Her voice was cracking now. "It's as though… you like the idea of me more than who I really am."

"What do you mean!? I do everything for you, Krystal! I would give up everything to make you happy!"

"That's exactly the problem, Fox…" At this moment, she looked him square in the eye. A weary expression had weighed down on her features. "I don't want you to change for me. I want you to be yourself. And I want the freedom to be myself, too."

Fox wiped away a bit of wetness that had accumulated at the corner of his eye. The memory he had brought back pained him more than he thought possible. But something was becoming clearer in his mind, this time around. Even yesterday, he wasn't quite sure what Krystal had meant by those words. However, at this moment, staring at the ceiling light of his empty apartment room, he came to the sudden understanding that perhaps she was right, after all. He had placed so much pressure on himself – and her as well – to act like the perfect couple, to do the perfect romantic things…

And he had lost her, because he had lost sight of who Krystal actually was inside.

He sighed deeply. But with that sigh, it seemed as though the anger and frustration in him was being relieved, if only a little. He still wasn't over Krystal, and remembering the times they spent laughing or fighting would always make his stomach burn with regret. But maybe he was starting to heal, just a bit, but enough for him to stand strong again and face the world…

When he was ready, Fox let his thoughts now drift back to his teammates. Only now did he realize how truly much he missed them! Earlier today, when he had kicked his chair in anger in response to their worrying, at the same time, he had been secretly glad that someone cared. All of a sudden, it became plain and clear to Fox – he was lonely, and needed his friends. And he felt terrible, because in his pain, had pushed away those who also greatly mattered in his life. But it was too late now.

For the first time in years, he would spend his Christmas Eve alone.