Chris

Most people who knew Chris were surprised by one specific thing about him.

He was very good at getting lost.

Well, not lost. But he was very good at losing people.

As someone who was very self-reliant and independent, he wasn't used to forming groups and keeping up with them (or allowing them to keep up with him). It was a regular occurrence that he would go along "with" Masamune and the other bladers from Dungeon Gym to the nearby bey park for training or an in-gym tournament, only to change his mind halfway along the route and go somewhere else without them noticing. He would then reappear at the gym several hours later, normally just before the people he was supposed to be with sent out a search party. Zeo found this particularly frustrating, though Masamune seemed to understand.

So when Coach Steel sent all of them out so that he could decorate the gym for Christmas in peace, Chris was prepared to just wander off somewhere on his own as usual. But then Masamuen grabbed him.

"Hey," he said. "Where are you off to?"

Chris shrugged. "Around. I'll find someone to battle, what's it to you?"

Masamune's eyes were dancing. "Have you got your person a present yet? The Secret Santa thing, I mean."

Chris frowned. "Wait, that's today? But Christmas isn't for another week."

"Coach told you," Zeo said, joining the group. "We all have to have our presents ready by today, that's our tradition. Once Coach puts up the tree, we put all the presents underneath it and then have to wait for Christmas Day before opening them. It's about exercising restraint in everything, not just in blading. Think of it as training."

Chris pulled a face. "I thought I had another week. Guess I'd better get a move on."

"Come with us," Toby offered. "We can show you where the best places to go are."

.

Chris halted in the doorway of Dungeon Gym and stared.

"That is a big tree," he said, in a slightly strangled voice.

The tree stretched from floor to ceiling, just about. It was covered in lights – not the normal warm white lights that Chris was used to seeing on hotel Christmas trees, but bright, flashing, multicoloured ones that reflected off the equally multicoloured tinsel and baubles that hung all over it. But Chris' real attention had been caught by the base of the tree.

"It's real?" he asked, pointing at the pot the tree was standing in. "Whoa, I just thought it was a really good fake. I've never seen a real one."

"Really?" Zeo asked.

Chris shrugged. "I'm used to being in hotels around about Christmas time. I don't normally notice when it's actually Christmas, except that the food's a bit different. But hotels don't usually have live trees, it's too much extra work I guess. And… are those all the presents?"

"Yep," Masamune said proudly. "Most of 'em are from Coach – he gets something for everyone because some of the guys come from really rough estates and don't get anything otherwise, so once all the Secret Santas are in there, it's going to be pretty crowded!"

"It's beautiful," Chris said.

It was the colours that got him. Every present was wrapped differently – whether it was with a different ribbon or a different paper, or with the paper diagonally instead of straight – and it made for a wonderfully chaotic display. Clearly Coach Steel was as talented at wrapping things as he was at teaching children to beyblade.

"Come on," Toby said. "Coach'll have some spare paper you can wrap yours in. Then we can get on and have that battle you promised."

"Er, I can't," Masamune said suddenly. "I've… got somewhere I need to be. Um. I'll catch you guys tomorrow?"

And he dashed out of the door.

"Weird," Chris muttered.

.

After that, it became much easier to find Chris. He spent most of his free time looking at the tree and the growing collection of presents under it, and rarely wandered away from the gym any more. .

When Christmas Day finally came around, and Chris received his handsomely wrapped parcel, he almost couldn't bear to unwrap it and rip the bright paper. Even surrounded by a sea of paper from the presents the other bladers had already torn open, the colours were so festive and beautiful that he just stared at it for a while.

"You do know your present is in the box, not the box itself, right?" Zeo said. Chris shook himself out of his reverie.

"Hey, be nice," Toby chided. "Chris hasn't done Christmas much before, let him do it at his pace."

"It beats sitting in a hotel and watching reruns of Harry Potter," Chris admitted, carefully sliding a finger under the tape in the hopes of keeping the pretty paper pristine for as long as possible. "Harry Potter's great, but when it's the only non-Christmas thing on TV and you've already watched it three times that week, it gets kind of dull. There was one year where I could recite the first ten minutes off by heart because I watched it so much – oh!"

He had finally managed to get into the box, only to find himself looking at more boxes. These were much smaller, with at least a dozen of them crammed into the larger box. Each one of them was wrapped in a different coloured or patterned paper, from shiny to glittery to pictured. The effect, just as it had been beneath the gym tree, was one of chaos and beauty all at once, and Chris stared. It was amazing. It was like having his own private Christmas tree, only without the tree. Wait, no – right at the bottom, there was a pipe-cleaner tree, glittering with tiny pieces of glitter like baubles.

"It's from me," Masamune said. "You kept on staring at the presents, so I thought you might like some permanent ones. With the price limit I couldn't get much, so… the boxes are empty, but you can put them up as decorations."

"That… really wasn't what I expected," Toby commented. "I didn't know you were this good at wrapping things up, Masamune."

Masamune shrugged. "I couldn't think of anything until I realised how much Chris liked the display under the tree. I had to make them overnight to get them done in time, but who cares! Now, even if you're in a hotel on your own, you can put the presents around a potplant or something and hey, there's Christmas!"

"Thank you," Chris said sincerely. "It's perfect."

Chris was very good at losing people. He had lost countless people who he had thought were his friends. He had wandered away from group after group, not seeing any reason why he should stay with them.

But he was determined he wasn't going to lose these ones.

No, this time, Chris was going to stay for Christmas. And even afterwards, Christmas was going to come with him, along with the memory of this little group who had pulled him inexorably into their midst and refused to let him drift away alone.