A/N: Not mine.

"Kocho!" Yuuki nearly broke his neck descending the stairs at a run.

"Yuuki-kun!" his mother protested. "Miss Oizumi, if you will!"

"Please," the girl laughed, "'Kocho' is just fine with me. But how," she pinned the boy with her eyes as she laid her travel bag on the floor, "did you know I was here before your mother announced me?"

"Well," he shuffled his feet, "I knew you were coming, so I set up a motion detector camera for the street in front of our gate."

She shook her head before she tipped and thanked the delivery persons who had hauled several crates into the foyer. "And how many false alarms did you get?"

Yuuki grinned. "Just a few."

"You little scamp," his mother smacked the back of his head, "go disconnect that camera. Now!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And what are these boxes, Miss Oizumi?" Mrs. Irie asked.

"I thought we were at first names after the Christmas party," Kocho reminded her.

"Why, yes, we were. And you would not believe all the compliments I–we–received over the decor and food for that evening. I kept some newspaper clippings…"

"Later," she laughed. "Is everyone here?"

"Yes," Naoki strolled from the home office with his father, "but not all of us feel the need to move at warp speed."

"Indeed. You are most welcome here, Miss Oizumi." Mr. Irie returned her bow of greeting. "And what is all this?"

"Why, Christmas presents, of course," she chirped.

"But Kocho," Yuuki returned from his electronics retrieval, "that was almost two weeks ago. Not that I'm turning down any gifts, mind you!"

She laughed over his mother's scolding. "In the States, the season is often extended. The twelve days of Christmas don't actually begin until Christmas. Of course, I have no partridges, much less pear trees."

"In your case, I would expect pineapple trees," Naoki spoke. "Provided, that is, if pineapples grew on trees."

"Which they don't," she nodded, "but you are not far off. Does anyone have some pliers to open these crates?"

Mrs. Irie quickly ransacked her odds-and-ends drawer, and the young lady began to open the boxes.

"Okay," she peered into the first, "this one is for all the adults. Sorry, Yuuki," she winked, "but it's full of grown-up beverages."

"Your company's pineapple wine?" Mrs. Irie showed interest.

"Yes, several bottles, with varieties ranging from sweet to dry, as well as our latest offering, pineapple brandy."

"Oh, my," Mr. Irie rubbed his hands together, "I can't wait to try that out."

"In moderation, Papa, in moderation," his wife reminded him. "But Kocho, dear, did you bring all this onto the plane?"

"Not at all," she denied. "For one, this is way too much, plus I don't really trust the baggage handlers on passenger flights. And when I've done it before, I had to show my identification too many times in order to take possession of an alcoholic beverage." She shook her head. "Never mind the fact that I helped develop it and did taste tests, even though I was slightly underage at the time."

"Well, it is the law…"

"I know." She shrugged. "These were sent by cargo ship, and I simply rented a delivery van and picked them up at the harbor." She reached out and twisted Yuuki's nose at his disappointed expression.

"Ow!"

"Stop feeling left out," she chided. "I also brought some coffee and tea from the islands. As well as," she bent over the smaller crate, "this! "

"A…cap?" He turned it over in his hands.

"It's made of koa wood," Kocho informed him, pointing out details. "You can wear it when we go to one of the summer competitions before I take you surfing."

"You– What– Really?!"

"Really." She tipped his chin up to close his mouth. "And I've commissioned a board from my favorite store. It will be waiting for you."

"Mom– Dad–" he looked at his parents, "can I?"

Mr. Irie nodded. "Saeki-san called and promised that he would have a lifeguard on duty to alleviate your mother's worries, so, yes, you can."

"This is the best–! I can't believe–!"

"As I'm sure you are beginning to count the days," she reached into the box once more, "here is an illustrated history of the sport. That should occupy you until then." Kocho shook her head as he almost floated to the couch and opened the book, cap on his head despite his mother's 'indoor' rules. "I believe anything else will be anticlimactic."

"But what we gave you does not even compare," Mrs. Irie nearly wailed.

"Nonsense," she argued. "My family and I enjoyed–perhaps too much–the assortment of handmade confections. I had to double my workout time in order to fit into my clothes after the holiday. But I have more."

"More?" Even Mr. Irie was getting excited.

"Yes, Irie-san." She handed him a flat box. "This is an authentic David Shepard Hawaiian shirt, which is not nearly as garish as what you normally see. See, the fabric is soft and the pattern is based on nature. I thought you would enjoy it on your days off, now that you're almost back to work full-time. And Noriko-san, for you, a Haumea Hawaiʻi handbag."

"Oh, my," the matron gasped, "the workmanship is most exquisite. Thank you, my dear." Her eyes then turned expectantly towards her older son, who let out a soft groan.

"And for you, my soon-to-be former business partner," she grinned at Naoki, "a set of Hawaiian scrubs, since you are headed back to medical school."

"The colors are a little…brighter than Dad's," he commented, one eyebrow raised.

"Face it," she countered, "patients often need to be cheered up. And since you are normally so serious, this will make them relax around you."

"I might as well start off with a bang." He gave her a brief hug in thanks. "Now, promise that you won't work Dad too hard once I leave Pandai."

"Now, Nao," his father chuckled, "you know that she is just as strict as your mother when I am at the office. And Yuuki-kun is even worse."

"I heard that!" The boy called, eyes still glued to his book.

"My dear," Mrs. Irie took her hand, "you must be exhausted. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Thank you so much," the girl replied, "but I will take a rain check, if possible. You are correct. I will probably crash once I get back to the apartment."

"In that case, it would be no trouble to put you up in Onii-chan's room. He wouldn't mind bunking with Yuuki-kun for one night."

"No, I really–"

"Kocho has already expressed her wishes, Ma," Naoki interrupted.

"Thank you." She shot him a grateful glance. "I would like to get back to familiar surroundings. If I could stay until a cab arrives, I would be most grateful."

"Of course, "Mrs. Irie guided her to an armchair, "you just sit here and I'll get you a cup of tea. Papa, call for the Pandai limousine. No need to schedule a taxi; goodness knows how long that would take."

While his parents were in the kitchen, Naoki leaned over Kocho and said, "Sorry about Mother's heavy-handed attempt at kidnapping you. She may not have appreciated your grandfather's methods, but she has been nagging me for years to settle down. I hope you're not offended."

"You need to remember that I'm an American, not a sensitive flower like my cousin."

A shadow seemed to pass over his face before he responded, "Of course."