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"So, if Santa has all those elves working for him, does that constitute as slavery?"
Mori squinted at Ren, who seemed to genuinely mean his question. He put the scarf he was holding back onto the rack next to him.
"No, I don't think so... Why do you ask?"
His junior rested his hands on his hips. "Well, do they get reasonable pay? Enough to afford proper food, clothing, and shelter? What's the minimum wage at the North Pole?"
"I... think that Santa covers their expenses. How would I know?" Mori had begun to inspect a pair of rather soft red mittens. They were too small for his hands, but perhaps Sora could make use of them.
Ren waved a hand in front of Mori's face, an exasperated frown spreading on his lips. "This is an important issue of moral consequence! How many working hours do they get in a day? Are they allowed time for personal relationships? Do they have proper facilities for leisure and exercise?"
The questions seemed to be never-ending, and Mori, who usually was knowledgeable on most topics, had no idea how to answer. He didn't know the quality of living for magical creatures in a place that did not have the proper environment to sustain life (although given that elves weren't real, perhaps the North Pole was suited for their nonexistent species' survival). He had only dragged Ren to the mall to help him look for gifts for the members of SOARA, not to find himself involved in a moral dilemma regarding workers' rights for imaginary creatures.
"Elves aren't real, Ren."
"...I know, but this has been on my mind ever since I was a child," Ren sighed.
Mori chuckled. "You have better things to worry about—such as buying presents for your friends. Christmas isn't getting any further away, you know."
Ren grumbled something under his breath about employee welfare as he walked away to look over a shelf of sweaters.
Sighing, Mori looked back to the task at hand. He still needed to buy gifts for Sora and Soushi, and given that they were his closest friends, something like mittens wouldn't suffice. Sure, they could keep Sora's hands warm, but they were only effective during a small part of the year. They weren't from the heart . A gift to one's best friend has to mean something, Mori had decided. The graph of emotional significance versus actual usefulness had a difficult slope to plot, and for a perfectionist like him, settling for anything less than the maximum value in either direction would be a sin.
Buying gifts was impossible, he concluded. The definition of a "perfect gift" was a subjective one, and entirely debatable from person to person at that. Even if he decided that something would be perfect for Sora or for Soushi, they might see it differently. He eyed a book on a nearby shelf—a book entitled "1001 Jokes for Dads" —and chuckled under his breath. Soushi would get a laugh out of that. Soushi used to joke that Mori's sense of humor was that of a middle-aged dad, consisting only of bad puns and moderately humorous riddles that only made a little bit of sense. Surely that book would be something of personal sentiment.
He blinked at it. No, it would be taken as a gag gift, and Soushi would be disappointed that he didn't put more thought into buying something for him. Soushi might think that he didn't mean enough to Mori for him to give him a sincere present, which was far from the truth, and Mori didn't want to give that impression. He cared for Soushi. He cared for him deeply.
That, of course, only made buying a gift for him an even more difficult task. That meant that Mori would inevitably find himself overthinking every possibility until he had found at least fifty things that would have satisfied Soushi but tossed them aside because there was one little detail that might not have fit his own personal definition of perfection. He would find himself with nothing, and Christmas would come around only for him to be panicking the day before, not having decided on anything, and his vision would be clouded enough that he would get something immeasurably stupid and make the situation he had been trying to avoid even worse.
Why did he have to be so ridiculously caring and perfectionistic when it came to his friends? It was usually a blessing, but sometimes he cursed his own nurturing personality. At times like these, he always wound up losing sleep over small things and questioning not only his entire emotional nature but also his sanity.
Christmas was a difficult time of year for Mori.
"Um... Morihito-senpai, are you alright?" Ren's voice sounded from the end of the aisle, laced with many layers of concern. Mori hadn't realized that he had spaced out so much thinking about his holiday predicament—how long had he been staring at that book? Was he making a frustrated face? He blinked over at Ren, who put a hand on his shoulder. "You should probably put those mittens down before you break them."
Mori nodded absently, releasing the death grip he hadn't noticed he was holding on the poor, wrinkled mittens, and placed them on a shelf. "I'm having trouble thinking of what to get them, that's all," he said with a frown.
The hand on his shoulder patted him gently again, and Ren furrowed his brow. "You really are thinking hard about this, aren't you?"
"Of course I am," Mori sighed, closing his eyes in defeat. "Sora and Soushi mean a lot to me, you know that. Their gifts have to be perfect. What is perfection? Is there a concrete definition of what it means for something to be perfect? Is it even a real concept? Is anything real?"
Ren was silent for an uncomfortably long time before laughing hesitantly.
Mori shook his head. "What did you pick out for Nozomu? You decided fast."
"Hmm? Oh, nothing special, really. I picked out a jacket I think he'll like, as well as a mini basketball hoop that he can hang on his door. He does like his toys..." Ren laughed, holding the items up for Mori to see. "I hope he appreciates them."
That was exactly what Nozomu would have wanted, Mori thought in frustration. Of course, Ren had the ability to pick out something perfect for his own best friend, something that came from his heart, something that Nozomu would genuinely use, thinking about Ren every time he would wear that jacket or throw the little ball into the hoop from various places in his cluttered bedroom as a challenge against himself. Of course Ren knew what he was doing.
Mori, however, remained hopeless.
He groaned loudly. "Damn it, Ren, that's wonderful. You're the good friend that everyone wants to have. Teach me your secrets, will you?"
Ren's cheeks turned pink, and he scratched the back of his head. "Ah, it was just something I thought of... Are you really that worried about finding presents for them?" When Mori nodded exasperatedly, he chuckled. "I can do my best to help, Morihito-senpai. I might not be the best at advice, but I'll try."
"Thanks," Mori said, and he meant it. Truly, he was grateful that Ren was willing to guide him through the treacherous jungle of heartfelt gift-giving.
After an hour or three, they managed to come to an agreement upon a present for Sora—a nice notebook bound in blue patterned leather, which he could use for jotting down songwriting ideas, since his current one was near full (and falling apart at the seams)—but even with Ren's help, nothing stood out to him for Soushi. This surprised him somehow; he had thought that Soushi's would be easier, that he could find a travel guidebook about castles around the country and be satisfied, but he was wrong. Nothing seemed good enough. Nothing seemed good at all.
The drive home consisted of Mori trying to convince himself that he wasn't slowly dying. All efforts to explain to Ren that it wasn't his fault that Mori was so indecisive were proving to be pointless, as the younger boy apologized several times over, eventually falling silent and staring through the window instead. Mori looked at the screen on his phone, displaying the date—December 15. He had ten days.
Ten grueling, painful days of suffering and agony.
No, it wouldn't be that bad. He just needed a little more time to think. Surely he would have something by as early as December 20, and everything would be fine. This would not be a major issue. Mori was good at problem-solving. He would take time tonight to think about it, maybe look online for ideas, and it would be as simple as that.
It was not going to be simple, he realized that night, shutting his computer and glancing at his alarm clock that flashed 4:30 AM. He had to accept his fate: he was terrible at giving gifts. This was just how it was. The world turned, weather patterns passed, Mori was awful at Christmas. The universe was at equilibrium. Nothing would change.
Except he wasn't really that horrible at this, was he? He had found gifts for Sora, Ren, and Nozomu. That was all well and good. It was only Soushi's that he was stuck on, and it made him think—perhaps the problem was not in his ability to give gifts but rather in his thoughts about Soushi. If he could straighten that much out, perhaps the path would be clearer. There shouldn't be any confusion there, he thought, but stepping back and analyzing their friendship could pinpoint whatever was giving him this problem.
They had always been close, hadn't they? Mori's calm nature and Soushi's relaxed, easygoing attitude matched together well. While Sora was always loud, Nozomu was full of energy, and Ren was stressed out by the two of them, Mori found peace in spending time with Soushi. He was blunt and quiet, but that was refreshing in contrast to their other friends.
Not that he didn't love the rest of SOARA, of course. He would probably lay his life on the line for any of them if necessary. They all meant the world to him—sometimes he thought that he wouldn't have survived high school without SOARA by his side.
Ren was someone gentle and kind, someone that Mori found no trouble in going to for advice. He was nervous, shyer than most, but he brought a soft humility to the group that wouldn't be found elsewhere.
Nozomu always charged ahead without hesitation, and his fun-loving nature helped even Mori to loosen up and partake in childish games once in a while. Though he could be immature, he was confident. He helped to motivate SOARA to run through anything that stood in their way.
Sora was the foundation of SOARA—he was their leader, after all. He was caring, a wonderful person all around, and his talent was unrivaled. He wasn't the brightest academically, but he made up for it with his spirit, sharing his enthusiasm with everyone he could reach.
Soushi. Soushi stood as a support for the group, whom they could all cling to when they were struggling. His words were blunt, but in the best of ways. He was always there to help and his advice was always perfect. He didn't care what others thought about him—even if someone teased him for things he was passionate about, he would push their comments aside. He managed to stir something of his own stubborn confidence in others. Soushi being nearby meant that everything was okay, that you could relax and take a deep breath, because he made you want to push forward, and even if you fell down, he would help you up without hesitation.
Soushi had a nice sense of humor—his dry remarks never failed to make Mori laugh, even when they weren't particularly funny. Mori felt at ease around him. Spending hours on end with him was pleasant and refreshing, perhaps because he was quiet, or perhaps because his personality and Mori's were so well-matched; they were the more mature members of their group, and it felt nice to know that he wasn't the only one with his life relatively organized.
He was collected, but he wasn't entirely serious, either. He went along with Sora's jokes and games. He always smiled when he had fun like that. Come to think of it, his smile was one of his best attributes, and Mori was always glad to see it. It wasn't that he was unattractive without it; in fact, he was incredibly attractive. Their fans all seemed drawn to him because of that. Mori supposed he was, too, in a way. Just seeing Soushi around the dorm or spending a little bit of his afternoon with him was enough to make Mori significantly happier.
...That was an interesting thought. He tried to create a mental graph of his memories, thinking back on small moments he felt happier than usual. There was the time that Soushi had treated him to lunch during exams as a stress reliever. The time that he had been sick, and Soushi sat by his bedside to keep him company. The time that SOARA all went out to an amusement park, and on the bumper cars, he and Soushi teamed up to beat everyone else, even though there wasn't an actual score system in bumper cars at all. The time that Soushi gave him cookies for no reason other than that he felt like baking cookies and he wanted Mori to try them. The time at graduation when he hugged Mori for what felt like hours, not wanting to let go, even though they were going to live in the dorms together anyway.
The graph of Soushi's presence versus Mori's happiness seemed to have a linear correlation. That shouldn't have surprised him—Soushi was one of his best friends. Of course his friend would cheer him up. It was almost different with Soushi, though; whether he was endearingly explaining the different types of salt he collected or sarcastically insulting Sora for his short attention span, whether he was complaining about homework or throwing an icy snowball directly into Mori's glasses, he was a warm presence, one that Mori didn't want to ever leave.
He was comforting and relaxing. His voice made Mori instantly feel a little bit better. The way his eyes shone when he felt excited or interested was infectious. Whenever he truly smiled, Mori's heart skipped a beat or two. Maybe he died for a moment. That might not even have been a melodramatic thought, it might even be reality. Just imagining Soushi's smile now, at sometime after four in the morning, his heart was happy, and he wanted to find Soushi and tell him how beautiful he was when he smiled, or at any time, really; he wanted to pull him close and stay with him, to feel his warmth, and maybe he would lean up and brush his lips against his own, tangling his hands in his hair, and—
Mori fell out of his desk chair.
Ah. Perhaps that was why he was having trouble finding a present for Soushi.
His initial plan had proven to be a success, but not in the way that he had imagined. Realizing... whatever it was that he felt for Soushi was not something he wanted to be doing at nearly five in the morning, now sprawled out on his bedroom floor. This was going to cause him more problems than struggling to buy him a Christmas gift. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to look Soushi in the eye again.
There was only one thing he could mutter, something completely uncharacteristic yet the only way he could express how he felt in this newfound scenario: "Fuck."
Wait, no, that's an overreaction, he thought, burying his face in his hands. This doesn't warrant a "fuck." Maybe it warrants a "fuck me—" no, that's enough, you stop right there, Arihara Morihito—
Yeah, he definitely would never be able to make eye contact with Soushi anymore.
Mori laid on his floor for the next three hours trying to convince himself that this wasn't actually happening. He was just... confused, right? He hadn't slept. He was overthinking the entire gift situation. He'd see Soushi in the kitchen in the morning and everything would be normal. Step one: get up and make himself a cup of coffee without any gay thoughts.
Soushi was already in the kitchen by the time Mori managed to peel himself away from the hardwood floor. "Morning," he said, his voice rougher than usual due to just having woken up, and he gave a small wave. His hair was slightly ruffled, and it was clear that he'd rolled out of bed and come into the kitchen. He was messy in an attractive way, Mori decided.
Step one: failed.
"Good morning, Soushi," Mori managed. He nodded before fumbling through the cabinet for his mug, nearly dropping it on the counter. A loud yawn escaped his lips, and he finally looked back at Soushi with a reluctant smile.
"You look like hell, Mori." Soushi took the mug from his hand pathetically easily. Mori only watched in defeat as he poured his coffee for him, chuckling quietly. "Had a bad dream or something?"
"Something like that." Mori leaned against the counter, his eyes wandering anywhere except Soushi's face. Sora would wake up soon, right? Sora would save him from his suffering. Not having slept at all was definitely making him delusional, and his... predicament here wasn't helping that at all. He thought he might pass out from the stress. "I couldn't sleep last night. I don't know what it was," he said, knowing exactly what it was. "I might be coming down with something."
Soushi laughed, taking a sip from his own mug. "You'd better not be sick. Don't give me the plague. SOARA needs me healthy."
"What about me?" Mori complained sarcastically. He pressed his lips together in an exaggerated frown.
"Yeah, yeah. What would we do without our dependable Mori?" Mori flinched when Soushi patted him on the head, and he quietly wished for death. Surely he was blushing at least a little noticeably, if not the color of a fire truck. He could only think that if this was how he felt after just having noticed he had some attraction to Soushi, it’d just get worse from here on out. This boy would be the end of him.
Before Mori could force himself to respond, there was a loud crash at the end of the hallway, followed by a shout of "I'm okay!" in a voice that was unmistakably Sora's. Mori sighed. Seconds later, Sora strolled into the kitchen between the two boys who stood there, immediately wrapping an arm around each of them.
"You alright there, Sora?" Soushi squinted down at him—his pants were rolled up on one leg, his hair jutted out at all the wrong angles, and there was a stupidly wide grin plastered on his face.
Sora waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, I'm great! Just tripped getting out of bed. I might be a little tired."
Mori sympathetically offered him a sip of coffee, which he accepted readily. "Be more careful," he said, forcing a cautious smile.
"Don't worry about it. Hey, you look a little messy yourself, you know." The shorter boy stuck his tongue out at Mori, who impulsively combed his fingers through his hair. Did he really look that bad? Sure, he hadn't slept all night, and he was still in a little bit of emotional shock after realizing he liked Soushi— maybe more, oh no, don't think about that now, Mori —but he usually managed to keep himself somewhat presentable.
Soushi leaned against the counter. He locked eyes with Mori and shrugged, accidentally letting a small chuckle slip. Mori looked down at his feet with a sigh. Maybe it really was that bad.
"I had a rough night," he muttered.
"Oh yeah? Wanna talk about it?" Sora nudged his arm, and Mori's eyes widened. Did he know? Was he that obviously staring at Soushi or something? Had Sora picked up on it already?
"...Maybe later."
"Alright, well, feel free to come to me if you're having trouble sleeping. I'm a certified sleep hypnotist!" Sora announced proudly, pointing a thumb at his chest.
"No you're not," Soushi deadpanned.
"That isn't even a thing," Mori laughed.
Sora crossed his arms and huffed. "Well! You two just don't believe in my abilities! The power is in the believing! It won't work if you don't—"
"Like a placebo effect?" Mori wondered aloud, chuckling.
Soushi snorted. "No way, Mori. It's magic ."
"Ah, of course. You're right. How could I forget?" Mori held a hand to his mouth to hide his increasing laughter, and Sora stomped his foot.
"You're both so mean," he groaned dramatically, faking a loud sob.
Soushi and Mori exchanged a high-five.
Nozomu walked into the kitchen, yawning with the force of an avalanche. "Goooood morning, everyone!" He yanked Mori’s coffee cup out of his hand and gulped it down. “Thanks for makin’ me coffee, Mori-senpai,” he added as he shuffled over to the couch.
“That was my coffee,” Mori mumbled under his breath. Nothing was going his way today at all.
Soushi sympathetically patted Mori’s shoulder and went over to make him a new cup. “You’re really the one who needs coffee most, Mori,” Soushi chuckled. “How much did you even sleep last night? Were you up late working again? I swear, I’ll take away your textbooks.”
Mori sighed gently. “I wasn’t working. I was, uh… I just couldn’t sleep, okay? It happens sometimes… And, um… I didn’t sleep at all. I’ve been awake all ni—” He stopped as Soushi shoved a large mug of steaming coffee into his hands. When he looked up to thank him, he saw that Soushi’s easy smile had turned to a frown, his brows knit in concern.
“Mori, you sure you’re alright? You can call in sick for practice today if you need it. You gotta take care of yourself.” Soushi let go of the mug, instead placing his hands on Mori’s shoulders, and Mori had to force himself to stand still and not drop the mug.
“Y-yeah.” Mori cleared his throat and took a long swig of coffee. “I can’t miss practice. I can’t let the band down like that. I can manage, I promise.” He smiled at Soushi as genuinely as he could muster, but with his dark circles, uncombed hair, and crooked glasses, he was sure he only looked pathetic.
Soushi didn’t look very convinced. “No, no. You can’t go to practice like this, you’ll fall asleep while standing and hurt yourself and your guitar. I’m not allowing that. You stay home and rest up, okay?”
“But, Soushi, the band—”
“Yes, the band needs you. But we’ve all been sick before. We can make it one rehearsal without you, okay?”
After a moment, Mori gave in. “Fine. I’ll try to sleep. But please let me know what you cover. I’m putting you in charge. I trust you the most.” He took another sip of coffee, frantically looking away from Soushi. That hadn’t been obvious, had it? Was he giving himself away?
“Thank you,” Soushi replied, and he gave Mori a smile so soft that he felt his heart stop beating and melt into a puddle in his chest. “For your sake and ours, okay? We need you— I need you healthy.”
With that, Soushi walked back to his room to get ready for practice.
Practice was three hours long that day, three hours which Mori spent tossing and turning on the couch, eventually in his bed, trying to sleep. A few times, he tried to force himself to look online for Christmas presents for Soushi, but he couldn’t find anything. He gave up. He desperately needed help. So, when he knew practice was over, he marched into Sora’s room and slammed the door behind him.
“Oi, Mori? You okay? Decided to take me up on that offer for sleep hypnotism?” Sora looked up from where he sat on his couch reading manga, and Mori plopped down next to him with a sigh.
“I need help,” he stated bluntly, his voice laced with exhaustion.
Sora frowned. “And you come to me? Usually you ask Sou when you need help.”
“Well, I can’t ask Sou about this one. This is about Sou. I’m having a crisis, Sora. I don’t know what to do.”
“Are you two fighting or something?” Sora rubbed Mori’s shoulder hesitantly, unsure whether Mori would appreciate it. Mori was glad just to have some sort of comfort.
He shook his head. “No. Quite the opposite. I’m struggling to get him a Christmas present. And I think I’ve figured out why, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“And that reason is…?” Sora rested his chin in his hands.
“Well, I…” Mori tugged on his hair. He hadn’t admitted this out loud yet. “I like him.”
Sora stared at him blankly. “Of course. He’s your friend. Why is that a problem?”
“No, Sora. I like him. I have feelings for him. Romantic feelings. I’m attracted to him, I want to date him, oh god, please make me stop talking.” Mori covered his mouth with his hand to shut himself up.
“Oh. You just noticed?” Sora squinted, and Mori felt himself freeze up.
“Eh?”
“N-never mind. Uh… so, what’s this gotta do with Christmas?”
Sighing, Mori ran his fingers through his bangs. “Nothing is good enough. I can’t find anything that accurately puts my feelings forth. Nothing that shows how much I value him. And now I can’t stop acting embarrassing around him, and I think I’m about to die.”
“Hmm.” For a few moments, Sora tapped his chin, apparently deep in thought.
“What is it?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering what came first, the color orange or the fruit.”
“This isn’t helping.” Exasperated, Mori got up and moved toward the door. “I’m going for a walk.”
Sora picked up his manga. “Have fun. Don’t think about kissing Sou,” he called, causing Mori to blush and sputter like a broken car for a moment before finally leaving the room.
He made his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water, where he saw Soushi sitting at the table, looking somewhat grumpy. “You okay?” he asked, reaching into the cupboard.
Soushi groaned. “Y’know my favorite mug?”
“The big one with the yellow stripes?” Mori replied, shutting the cupboard door.
“Yeah, that one. Nozomu broke it. He gave me the pieces, look.” Soushi pointed at a pile of ceramic shards on the counter. “Blamed it on Ren, who said that Nozomu hit it with a baseball bat by accident. I’m so tired of this shit.”
“That’s awful,” Mori said with a frown, moving to sit down next to him. “That mug was one-of-a-kind, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, my grandma got it from a potter in Europe. I can never replace it. But, oh well. Sometimes life just—”
A lightbulb flashed in Mori’s brain, and he abruptly stood from his chair. “I gotta go,” he blurted. “I have, um, a doctor’s appointment.”
“Oh, is it about your insomnia?” Soushi asked, his eyes concerned.
“…Yes.”
Satisfied, Soushi stood and patted Mori’s arm, sending Mori’s heart into loop-de-loops. “Good. Take care of yourself, m’kay? I’ll be here.” He held up the book he’d been reading.
“Talk to you later, Sou.” Mori hurried out of the common room, immediately searching up his idea on his phone. Oh, there was one nearby. They had openings in two days. He’d taken a class in high school; maybe that’d give him some help.
It was a risky endeavor, and it could very easily go wrong.
Mori crossed his fingers and called the number on the website.
Nine days later, SOARA was gathered in their common room at the break of dawn, around the Christmas tree that Mori and Soushi had set up, which was surrounded by gifts—from family members, from each boy to each other, and even gifts from Santa, all meticulously purchased and wrapped by Mori to protect Sora’s innocent, childish beliefs. Mori hummed happily, proud of his work. Soushi didn’t seem too excited about being woken up by Nozomu and Sora jumping on his bed and screaming about Christmas. The other three, however, were itching to open their gifts, so Mori cleared his throat.
“Alright, everyone, here’s the plan,” he announced, and his bandmates turned to face him. “Everyone grab one gift. We’ll each open the first gift together, and then… dive in, I guess.” He laughed. “Choose wisely.”
Mori was holding his gift from Sora in his hand, a lump of wrapping paper in a shape that vaguely resembled a box. Sora and Nozomu each took presents from “Santa” (everyone but Sora knew that Mori was the real Santa, and he’d convinced them all to play along). Soushi picked up a large bag from his mom, and Ren cradled a tiny box from Soushi in his hands.
“Can we open yet?” Sora asked, his fingers already tearing away the wrapping paper.
“No,” Soushi said.
“Of course,” Mori added, swatting Soushi’s shoulder gently. The band members all enthusiastically tore open their gifts.
Sora gasped and gawked at the new digital keyboard he’d gotten, already excited to try it out for composing. Nozomu hugged a Gundam action figure. Mori chuckled as Soushi pulled the hand-knit sweater from his mother over his head—it wasn’t exactly a work of art, but it was endearing, and he supposed it was the thought that counted. Ren looked confusedly down at a case of truffle salt.
“Go ahead and open the rest,” Mori urged, and as the other members rushed to the tree, he shouted a hesitant thank-you to Sora for the small, yellow Arainu that he’d gotten and immediately tucked under the wrapping paper so that Soushi wouldn’t see. Sora sure loved to tease his friends, Mori sighed, watching Sora snicker as Nozomu unwrapped yet another alarm clock.
They slowly made their way through the rest of the presents, though Mori saved Soushi’s for last. He gazed happily at his pile of gifts—a new set of guitar picks from Nozomu, a book he’d mentioned wanting to read from Ren, some clothes from his parents, a pair of clip-on sunglasses from Ken, a tea set from Growth collectively, and the Soushi Arainu, hidden at the bottom of the pile. He hadn’t opened his “Santa” gift or his gift from Soushi yet, and he hesitated trying to decide.
After a moment, he selected the former. He peeled back the paper and did his best to act surprised at the sight of a pair of brown leather boots he’d selected.
“Thank you, Santa!” he cried, hoping that he was convincing Sora. “He really did get me just what I wanted.”
“Oh, it’s because you’ve been good this year, Mori!” Sora yelled, admiring the boots.
Nozomu laughed. “Of course ya got yourself what ya wanted, right, Mori-Santa-san?”
Mori froze.
He looked over at Sora, whose face was pale in disbelief. A glance toward Nozomu proved the guilty party’s absolute lack of understanding of what he’d done.
“What do you mean, Nozomu…?” Sora hesitantly asked, shaking lightly.
Mori was quick to pat his head. “Oh, it’s nothing. Nozomu’s just joking. Please pay him no mind—”
“Ehh, Nozomu, are you saying… Santa…!” Sora let out a yelp before shooting up out of his seat. “I can’t believe this. What kinda… Geez! You…!” He ran out of the common room, a loud scream echoing through the hall. Nozomu and Ren sprinted after him.
Mori stood to go chase him down, but Soushi grabbed his wrist. “Let Nozomu clean up his mess,” Soushi muttered. He pointed at the tree. “Besides, you still have another present to open. Saved mine for last, huh?”
“W-well, I—uh… I, I guess—”
“Hey, I’ve still got yours, too.” Soushi held up Mori’s delicately wrapped box and smiled.
Sighing, Mori sat back down. He couldn’t resist that smile.
“You go first,” Soushi said, releasing Mori’s wrist and urging him toward the tree. After a moment’s hesitation, Mori walked over to the tree. He knelt down to pick up the small box. As he faced away from Soushi, he took a deep breath, trying to will away the blush on his face and the rapid heartbeat in his chest. He carefully grabbed the gift and returned to the couch.
Soushi nodded encouragingly, and Mori braced himself, pulling at the ribbon on the box. The wrapping paper gave way to a tiny case, and carefully, he pulled its lid off.
“Sou…” Mori’s eyes widened as he pulled the gold necklace out of its case, admiring the shape of its pendant. “It’s… like a guitar pick…”
“It is a guitar pick, actually,” Soushi interjected. “I had it covered in gold at a jeweler’s. It’s… well, you can’t tell now, but it’s one of yours. From high school. The one you played with at our first Tsukipro audition.”
Mori gaped at Soushi, who looked down at his hands that sat in his lap, and noticed a twinge of a blush crossing the taller man’s face. “How… how did you find that?” he managed, but his mind was swirling so much that he didn’t know how he’d been able to force the words from his mouth.
Soushi’s blush deepened noticeably. “I kept it,” he said simply. “Took it from your bag and held onto it. I was waiting for the right time to give it back, but I couldn’t figure out how.”
“I… T-thank you, Sou,” Mori stuttered. He swallowed his pride and asked a selfish request, feeling his own cheeks heat up as well. “Can you… can you put it on?”
“Of course,” Soushi answered immediately. He took the chain from Mori’s hand, and as Mori’s heart did backflips and somersaults, he pulled the chain around Mori’s neck and shut the clasp.
Mori turned to look directly at Soushi, his eyes gazing in wonder at his friend. He couldn’t wrap his head around this present. It was so… heartfelt. Thoughtful. Dedicated. And, most importantly to Mori, it seemed almost to imply something that was more than friendship, ones that made him think delusional thoughts of Soushi returning the feelings Mori harbored for him.
His daze was interrupted by Soushi clearing his throat. “Can I open mine now?” he asked, and Mori nodded nervously.
“It’s not… it’s not nearly as wonderful, but I hope you appreciate it nonetheless,” Mori said, flustered, his fingers fiddling with the golden guitar pick.
Soushi chuckled. “Even if you got me a cardboard box, I’d absolutely treasure it.”
Now it was Mori’s turn to blush madly. “Please open it.”
Soushi unwrapped the box, commenting on the lovely gift before he even opened it. Mori laughed nervously. Finally, Soushi reached inside and pulled out Mori’s gift.
It was a mug, much like the one that had been shattered just over a week earlier. There were a few minor flaws—the shape was slightly off, the handle was a little too big, and there was a small extra chunk of ceramic that had gotten stuck on one side—but it closely resembled the yellow striped mug that Soushi held dear. Mori had debated inscribing a confession on the bottom before he’d put it in the kiln, but he settled instead for Soushi’s name and a crude sketch of a castle. The instructor told him it might not hold like that. It was something of a miracle that it turned out exactly how Mori had intended.
Mori was beginning to grow nervous, as Soushi had been simply staring at it and admiring it from every angle for at least a minute or two. He coughed. “D-do… do you like it?”
“I love it.” Soushi set the mug down delicately on the coffee table and pulled Mori into a tight hug. “Mori, it’s absolutely perfect. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Mori whispered, his arms snaking around Soushi’s back and stroking the soft wool of his sweater gently. He felt guilty for thinking it, but he decided that he never wanted to let go. It wasn’t often that Soushi gave hugs. Mori wanted to feel a little special for even a minute longer.
They stayed there for a while, and Mori was about to open his mouth to say something when Soushi spoke. “I’m so glad I can spend Christmas with you, Mori.”
Mori chuckled nervously. “Well, we have three other band members, too, plus Growth, and SQ—”
“But you matter most to me.” Soushi pulled away from Mori, leaving Mori desperately wishing for just a second more. Soushi inhaled deeply and shut his eyes. “Merry Christmas.”
Mori could hardly process what was happening, but suddenly Soushi’s face was closer than he remembered, and he felt soft lips press against his, their warmth almost surprising. He sat in shock for a moment before finally allowing himself to indulge in the kiss, his lips melting into Soushi’s lips and his fingers melting into Soushi’s hair.
Gently, and as if he regretted the decision, Soushi pulled away. Mori simply stared at him, his face beet red and his eyes glued to Soushi.
“You’re the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten,” Soushi muttered, his hands toying with the hem of Mori’s shirt.
Mori wheezed. “You’re so cheesy, Sou, I worry that I might almost regret dating you.”
“Oh, so we’re dating now?”
“…Wait, hold on, were we not?”
“I’m just teasin’ ya, Mori. C’mere. Aw, don’t be upset, I’m just teasin’.”
“Sou…”
“Mori, please tell me you’re okay, okay? Mori?”
“Now I’m teasing you .” Mori laughed, poking Soushi’s nose.
Soushi blushed. “Oi, why would ya do that?”
As they laughed and smiled, Mori felt his heart soar out of his chest. Unfortunately, despite Soushi’s cheesiness, he was right.
He gripped the pendant in one hand and Soushi’s hand in the other. This was truly the most amazing Christmas gift he could ever receive.