Y/N: Makoto is a brat. He's a lot like child Mimi-without any of her endearing personality. He was very annoying, and I tried to make him somewhat relatable, but he's still really not. He was a fun character though, despite his many flaws. I enjoyed playing around with the different personalities of the kids. I wanted them to be as different from their parents and each other as I could get them. I'm not sure anyone will like Makoto, but I hope you at least like his narration. :D

Title: Here Comes Santa Claus

By: YukiraKing

Disclaimer: We don't own Digimon or its characters.

Chapter 04: A Work of Art

Makoto Izumi:

"What do you want to do?" I asked Osamu, falling back dramatically onto the couch in my living room. It was an old couch, and according to Gran it seriously needed replacing. Mom didn't like listening to her mother's advice and so she was stubbornly not listening to what was obviously the superior opinion. But it didn't matter. It was comfortable, sort of. I wiggled myself around, trying to find a position that was visually dynamic, and didn't make me look like a loser. It was hard for me to ever actually look like a loser, but that didn't mean I could stop putting forth the effort. I was an actor, and I had to take every opportunity for practice. I spent every second of my life trying to live as grandly as possible, sparing no expense while I continued to work on my craft.

"I don't know," Osamu said, as I knew he would. "What do you want to do?"

"I asked you," I sighed. He was always like that. The others liked it, because they were full of themselves, but I wasn't. Okay, I totally was, but I needed a little more to work with. It was hard to practice improvisation with an unhelpful partner. Osamu didn't particularly like sharing his opinions. I wasn't sure if the others had really noticed just how infrequently Osamu spoke his own mind. But he didn't do it often. That was fine, whatever. It was his life and he could make whatever choices he wanted to. I wasn't going to stifle his independence. That would be a crime. But it made it extraordinarily hard for me to think of what to give him for the Secret Santa. We all needed to go back to the Temple courtyard, where Neo had been forced to write out all of our names because he wouldn't lie, and we could be sure that all the names were there.

Stupid Emiko.

I'd already gotten her present. It wasn't hard. She was a prankster. She loved pranks, and what better gift to give than a gag gift? I put a bunch of paper through the shredder and stuffed the shredded pieces into a gift bag. It was going to be hilarious. She would have searched through that bag for a present and never found one, because the paper was the present. I had the scene scripted out in my head already. But now, thanks to Emiko's stupid selfishness and mean spirited nature, I had to draw a new name and I got the hardest person ever to get presents for: Osamu.

There weren't any scenes being blocked out in my mind for him. He wouldn't even make a suggestion of what to do after school. I'd offered up my house, since Mom was working at her restaurant, and Dad was in his office, and wouldn't be coming out for anything. He never did. It was perfect. Chika was even over at the Ishida house, and was out of my hair. I had the perfect setting for something to happen. And I was wasting it all trying to figure out what to get for Osamu. I couldn't ask him. It was against the rules. Louisa was pretty unbearable about it all.

"Now, Emiko, what you did was very cruel and very bad, but really, I have to wonder how anyone found out. There was only one rule, people. You aren't supposed to tell anyone whose name you've got. It's really simple. And you failed! Emiko was bad, but so were the rest of you."

I hadn't even bothered to find out who anyone else had. So long as Chika didn't give a kiss to Nikko because she somehow managed to get his name, then I didn't really care. I didn't really care too much about this Secret Santa thing at all. It was weird and pointless. It was almost mean, making us get presents for random people. It was a test to see how well we knew each other, and I was going to fail because Osamu wouldn't open his mouth and just want something. I could see it now.

"So, I think Chika might have your name, Osamu. I don't know for sure, but just in case she does, what do you want?" I would ask, casually, not leaving any hint whatsoever that it was me that really needed to know.

"I don't know," he would say, because he was always unhelpful like that, "If you could give me my own opinions that would be splendid."

Even in the fantasy of my own mind Osamu didn't have any useful information to share with me. It was absolutely horrible. I was at my wit's end.

"I don't know about you," Nikko said, looking between my torture expression and Osamu's blank face, realizing that there was no headway being made. "I think I'd like to explore the house."

"We did that when we were six," Elliot said, sounding bored by the idea. "We know where everything is. It would be a waste of time."

"I don't know," Nikko said. "We could start with say...Chika's room, and see where we go from there."

"Seriously?" Hiro asked with a snort. "That's not even subtle at all."

"That's not happening," I assured everyone.

"Okay, listen," Nikko said. "It's not for some nefarious purpose. I just need to know what she's interested in. I've got her name for the Secret Santa, and I need to find the perfect present. It needs to be so perfect that she literally falls in love with me."

"Are you trying to convince me to help you?" I asked, seriously thinking he'd lost his mind. He had to have, if he ever thought that as going to work. I might actually vomit if he actually integrated himself into my life in that way. Chika was two years younger than us, and she was a free spirit and she was naive. She was my precious baby sister—according to Gran—and it was my duty to protect her from the evils of the male half of the species. Having known Nikko on a rather deep level for the majority of our lives, I knew that he was not a person I really wanted my sister to be exposed to.

"You've got to help me. I'm trying to make her Christmas special!" Nikko cried, throwing himself on his knees before me, playing towards my dramatic side. I was a bad brother, because I was falling for his tricks. They were obvious, but he put his all into it. I was a sucker for things like that.

"Five minutes," I said. My voice was deep and threatening. He knew he had specifically just five minutes. I would be timing him. He grinned and hopped to his feet, and started running towards the stairs. Elliot looked to me surprised before he started racing after him. Hiro was quick to follow on their heels, and Osamu lingered, waiting for me. I sighed and started counting the seconds, before pulling myself off the couch and to my feet. I stretched down to my toes, to keep myself limber. Gran was always commending me for my continued efforts. It had been her idea to involve me with dance classes to give me even more motivation. She actually got me involved in all of my classes—improvisation, jazz, tap, ballet, modern dancing, choir, glee. I was in all the classes she thought would help me achieve my dream of being a triple threat on the stage and screen.

It helped that Gran was the instructor for most of my beginner classes. Mom felt a lot more comfortable sending me to classes all by myself when I was so young, knowing that Gran was there to watch over me. Mom didn't want to stomp on my dreams, even though they were pretty much the opposite of what hers had been. She sometimes complained to Dad that Gran was trying to live vicariously through me, and if that was the case, I applauded her for it. I would want to live my life too—if I was someone else and not already me. I was amazing. Gran told me like every time I saw her. She was so proud of the actor I was growing into. I remembered the first shining moment in what was sure to be an illustrious career.

"I'm not particularly interested," Dad told me, awkwardly. But I wasn't going to have that. There was no way I was going to be the only kid that showed up without my parent. I knew that all the other kids were bringing their mothers. I knew that I would be even more different now, seeing as I was one of two guys in the class. But I could pull off different. Dansu was already planning on abandoning me, and leaving me to be the only male. But I wasn't going to let that get the better of me. I didn't need anyone else to make me feel confident. Gran provided me with enough confidence that I barely even needed to try.

"You don't love me!" I sobbed, instantly breaking into flawless tears. I was always pretty good at that particular action, even when I was only six. "Gran said you wouldn't come. But I said you would. I said you loved me, and you would help me. But she was right! You don't."

"She said what now?" Dad said, instantly perking up. His brow furrowed, and I knew I had it in the bag. "You know what, I think I can rearrange my schedule."

"I knew you wouldn't let me down!" I cried, letting my tears dry up as I jumped into his lap and hugged him tightly. "You'll like it. You could be a good ballerina."

"Wait, ballet?"

It was pretty hilarious to see Dad trying to do ballet. It was even funnier to see Gran's face when Dad walked into the studio. She was flabbergasted. She never thought I could talk him into it. She and Dad were frosty to each other throughout the entire rehearsal, because of my conniving, but still, I was amazing. It was the moment when I knew I would be able to pull this acting thing off.

"Do you think Chika would appreciate him looking through all of her stuff?" Osamu asked softly, surprising me. He hardly ever spoke up.

"Probably not," I sighed. "But it's not going to stop him."

"Will he find anything?" Osamu asked.

"Yeah," I said. "She's decided to live in a desert."

"..."

"Yeah," I snorted, as I opened the door. The other three guys were searching through all of Chika's stuff. Hiro was looking through her necklaces and bobbles that Gran had given her. Grandma had helped Chika paint all of her picture frames yellow, and added sand to the paint for texture. Mom and Chika painted the walls to look like large yellow stones, piled up on top of each other, making it look like this room was in the centre of a pyramid. The floor was covered in sand. Literally, the floor was a sea of sand, and it got everywhere whenever Chika left her room. She tracked it around with her. It was horrible. The rest of the room was decorated with light woods—the dresser, bed frame, shelves—and white—her sheets and curtains and the like. It was very open and airy.

It was also crazy.

But so was Chika, so it made sense.

"Huh," Osamu said, looking to Elliot, who was going through Chika's drawers. Nikko swatted at him, not wanting to invade Chika's privacy too much. I rolled my eyes. He was looking through the books on her shelves. They were all books catered to her newest obsession with ancient Egypt.

"What should I get her?" Nikko complained.

"Something from Egypt," Elliot said, rolling his eyes. It was an obvious answer, it was also pretty much impossible at this point in time. There wasn't all that long until Christmas. It was the fourteenth already. How was Nikko meant to convince his parents to let him go to Egypt in just ten days? Short answer: he couldn't.

"I could get a piece of a pyramid," Nikko suggested half-heartedly.

"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "You could use the Time key while you're at it and get something before it became ancient."

"That's perfect!" Nikko shouted. He ran over to hug me, and I stepped out of the way. I wasn't going to let him trick himself into thinking I supported his decisions. I wasn't interested in going to ancient Egypt for my kid sister's present.

Thankfully, there was a holler from downstairs, as Dad called for me to answer the door. Once I heard his call, I realized he was right. I raced down the steps and flicked the lock, before opening the door, only to be met with the sight of Chika grinning up at me.

"Where's your key?" I asked.

"Mom took it," she said. "I lost it too many times."

"Okay..." I said, trailing off when I noticed the three people waiting behind her. Being the courteous guy that I was, I let them in out of the cold, before shutting and locking the door behind them to keep the riffraff out. "Hey Sora, Shouta...Aika."

"Hello Makoto," Sora said pleasantly. "Your father's in his office, right?"

"Where he always is," I told her, nodding. She smiled at me and slipped off her shoes, before heading directly towards my father. Shouta lingered in the doorway, not knowing what to do before he just kicked off his shoes and sat on the couch, staring at his stripy socks and not saying a word. Chika offered to take Aika's coat, and threw it on the floor with her own. It was her version of hanging things up—she still couldn't reach the top of the coat rack. She was short—almost obnoxiously so.

"You should come see my room!" Chika told Aika excitedly. "I'm very impressed with how well it turned out. I like it a lot. And if I bring water to bed at night, I can use my flashlight and build sandcastles, and no one notices."

"Sounds cool," Aika said, looking to me with pained eyes. I knew why. She used to be one of the guys. Well, she'd always been a girl, but we hadn't really treated her like one. She was upset when we all sided with Nikko in the "divorce". They were dating—as much as any kids can date one another—and they had a really messy break up when Nikko complained about her acting like a girl. Obviously, in that moment, he'd forgotten what everyone else always did: she was a girl.

We all followed Nikko after the break up, and she was left with just Chika, who, bless her heart, was an unpredictable ball of creativity. Aika and Chika couldn't play soccer together, because Chika was always 'losing' her shoes. Everyone knew that Emiko stole them, but Chika was too nice to get her in trouble. It was another motivation for wanting to give Emiko a bag of shredded paper.

"You could also...not," I suggested, wincing at my poor improvisation. Aika narrowed her eyes at me, trying to discover my motivation probably, but I sighed with relief when I heard the racing feet that were running down the stairs. Aika groaned and flopped over on the couch beside her brother, probably hoping that he would shield her from the guys.

"We have company?" Chika asked, blinking up at me with wide eyes. "I should get some crackers then."

"You do that," I said, confused. Usually Dad just put the kettle on and Mom got out treat trays. But Chika was a unique flower that would not be deterred. I heard her dragging a chair across the kitchen towards the cupboards, so that she could reach the fancy crackers Mom kept hidden up there for when we had important work connections over. I would be taking the blame for that later, because I knew Chika was genuinely trying to be helpful and courteous, and I tried to support that whenever possible.

"What's going on?" Elliot asked, as they made it to the bottom of the steps. He glanced past me and recognized Aika's coat on the ground. He sought her out immediately, and headed towards the couch, climbing over Shouta in his quest to reach Aika. Shouta was forced to move in order to allow Elliot the space he needed. He unleashed his version of a smoulder, and deepened his voice. "Hey, Aika. What's up?"

"Ew," Aika said, shoving him away from her. She got to her feet and walked around him, leaving plenty of space for his ego, before going to her brother. After she was sure he was okay, she excused herself—to me only—and headed towards the kitchen, to help Chika with her snacks, and hopefully to make sure Chika didn't melt marshmallows on top of spinach on them.

Dad was the only one that could eat Chika's creations. He was a brave man.

"She totally likes me," Elliot said confidently, grinning to himself. Nikko slowly walked towards the kitchen doorway, wanting to help Chika with her snack, but not being brave enough to face Aika. I wasn't sure if they'd talked at all since their break up. It wasn't healthy. That's what Mom said anyway. And I figured she would know. She had to have dated someone other than Dad. She was beautiful. She could have been a movie star. She was a little crazy though...I was pretty sure that was where Chika got it from.

"No, she doesn't," Hiro said with a snort.

"Like you would know," Elliot said, waving his opinion off—even though Hiro was legitimately Aika's cousin and might actually know better than Elliot did. I was firmly in Hiro's corner. I was pretty sure I knew exactly what Aika was thinking. I'd seen their interactions almost daily since Elliot got it into his head that he and Aika were meant to be.

I didn't see it. But maybe that was just me.

"Did you see the way she threw that snow ball at me?" Elliot asked. "She put so much effort into it. It was perfect, and she did it just for me."

"Yeah," Hiro said with a laugh. "She aimed right for your face."

"It was probably just her way of blowing a kiss or something," Elliot said confidently. "She's embarrassed. She doesn't want to be seen with me, just in case I don't return her feelings. Someone should just tell her I'm willing to date her. It would put her out of her misery."

"Someone should put you out of your misery," I said, only I wasn't the only one speaking. I turned to see Kaoru Kido. Her face flushed with anger at my audacity to say the same thing at the same time. I would have said something like 'great minds think alike' but I didn't want to insult myself.

"No one asked you," I said instead.

"Don't talk in public if you don't want the public's opinion," she said, glaring at me.

"And who elected you to be their representative?" I demanded.

"It was a responsibility that was thrust upon me, I'm afraid. No one else wanted to have to get this close to you to say anything," she snapped, before stalking off. I rolled my eyes. Girls were weird. I was so glad Chika was so much weirder. I didn't think I could handle having someone like Kaoru around all the time. It would be torture.

"But seriously," Elliot said, picking up the pieces of the snowball that had slammed into his face. "This is a work of freaking art."

Elliot ignored my opinion, just like Nikko always did. It was horrible. I had such great comments and no one ever paid attention to them. It was a catastrophe. Aika never ignored me. Aika never ignored anyone. She went along with everything we did, and the only thing she ever asked in return was that we remembered she was a girl and sometimes, she liked to act like one. We'd failed that one simple task, and now she was lost to us forever.

But maybe she wasn't.

She was miserable. She liked Chika, and I was glad that she and Chika had each other, because Aika kept Chika out of trouble, and helped to rein in her wildest ideas. But I didn't think Chika was enough for Aika. I toyed, momentarily, with the idea of finding more friends for her, before the obvious truth flew at me and smacked me right in the face. Aika didn't need new friends. She needed her old friends. All I needed to do was to mend the bridges between Aika and Nikko, and then Aika could be our friend again—and I wouldn't be ignored. It was brilliant. It was also incredibly difficult.

But it was definitely easier than figuring out what to get for Osamu for the Secret Santa.

Featured Evolution Line: Makoto: Yuramon—Tanemon—Aruramon—Kabkukimon—Blossomon—BanchoLilimon