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Christmas music playing, Kokichi climbed a stool, string of lights in hand. Humming, he outlined his dorm window with multicolored lights. Outside light snow was falling on the courtyard. Cold seeped through the glass panes. However, Kokichi’s red fair isle sweater and thick pants kept him toasty. Kokichi glanced behind him. A mug of hot chocolate and Oreos sat next to his laptop. Along with winter break’s stack of homework. Let’s see… today’s the 23rd. And school doesn’t start again until January 3rd. I’ll start it after New Years. That’s plenty of time to do the research paper.
Kokichi turned back to the window. Below Ryoma, pulling down his hat against the snow, quickly left the dormitory building, suitcases in hand. Gonta scooped up both suitcases from him. Laughing, they headed towards campus east exit. Kokichi’s hands holding the lights lowered. Our last winter before we graduate… Even Ryoma is going on a trip with Gonta. Hell, Maki’s staying with Kaito and his grandparents. I must be the only one in our homeroom staying on campus during break this year. Kokichi sighed. He stood on his tip toes. Taped the lights to the wall.
Oh well. Not like I’m not used to it.
The door slammed open. “Kokichi!”
The leader flinched, almost falling off the stool. Himiko stood in the doorway. She wore an oversized white sweater reaching past her hips, a gray scarf, and tight black pants. “What are you doing? You should be getting ready to go, not decorating!”
“Wait, what?” Kokichi jumped off the stool. “Why?”
“Mommy and my brother Mitsuo are expecting us at my house. So get packing!”
Kokichi stilled. He threw out a hand to the side. “Are you crazy? No!”
Huffing, Himiko laid her hands on her hips. “You’ve been to my house 3, 4 times already in the past six months. Even celebrated your 18th birthday with us and you had a great time. You’ll fit in just fine. So what’s to be scared of?”
Sighing, Kokichi turned away, playing with a strand of hair. “It’s not that. I’m just not…” His eyes clouded over in memory. The cold nights. Growling stomach. Barren makeshift Christmas tree.
“Oh, there’s my Kokichi!”
At the new voice, the leader looked up. Himiko was holding out her phone, having Facetimed her mother. Mrs. Yumeno waved. Her brown hair extended past her shoulders a few inches. Mrs. Yumeno’s facial features – heart-shaped face, doe-shaped brown eyes, button nose – matched her daughters. “I’m so glad to hear you’re coming.” The mother wiped a tear from her eye. Sniffed. “Finally, a holiday where all of the family is together…”
Kokichi burst into tears. “Waaaaaah! I don’t wanna gooooooo!”
Mrs. Yumeno blinked. “Wow. That’s impressive. Can you teach me how to do that? I need to get out of my brain-dead accountant job.”
Ah, yes. How could I ever forget how much of a basket case she is. Like mother, like daughter. Kokichi glowered. “I’m not coming.”
Mrs. Yumeno shrugged. “Well if you won’t drive her home, then I guess Himiko’s stuck there. Driving there and back home is way too much effort.”
Himiko wailed, “Nooo! I don’t wanna stay at school for Christmas!”
Kokichi crossed his arms. “That’s just evil.”
Mrs. Yumeno laughed, “Hmhmhm! We’re all mad here. Including you, Cheshire Cat.”
The corner of Kokichi’s lips twitched, threatening to smile. It lasted only a microsecond. “Look, crashing parties is my thing, but once I’m invited, it’s not as fun any–”
“You’re family. You’re coming. That’s final.” Mrs. Yumeno’s brown eyes bore into him.
Sighing, Kokichi scratched the back of his head. “Fiiine.”
Himiko bounced up and down. Her mother said, “Good! If you leave soon, you should be here in a few hours. After I get out of work we can have dinner and then go Christmas shopping before the mall closes. Pack your bags for 10 days; you’re spending the entire break here.”
“The entire break?!”
“See you soon, honey!” She hung up.
Brow raised, Kokichi asked the mage, “So? You gonna take responsibility for this? Help me pack?”
“Um… actually, I came here to ask you to help me with mine. I haven’t started yet.”
“Seriously? You’re such a baby!” Exhaling in frustration, Kokichi waved out a hand, gesturing to the door. “Go. I’ll come over after I finish.”
“Yaaay!” Himiko skipped out the door, leaving it open in her haste. “Christmas is coming, Kokichi’s coming, Christmas is coming…”
The leader gazed at the open doorway. Smiling, he shook his head. Turned back to the window with the hanging Christmas lights. One bulb was broken. What have I done? He held it in his palm. How can I spend the holidays with her family when I’ve never properly celebrated Christmas before?
The automatic doors opening, the Yumeno family entered the mall. Eyes wide, Kokichi took in his surroundings. Although not nearly as big as the shopping center near Hope’s Peak, the mall was packed. The conversations of hundreds of people competed with the carols playing on overhead speakers. Stores lined the wide hallway with flyers and lights on display. A large fountain stood in the center.
Kokichi sniffed. The aroma of baking bread and cookies wafted in the air. Mhm… I should steal some free samples later.
Mrs. Yumeno guided them towards the side by some crane and gacha machines. “All right. So this is what we’re gonna do. Himiko and Kokichi, why don’t you check out the mall on your own? We can meet up later in an hour or so. Mitsuo and I will be just fine by ourselves, so you two go scope out the stores or arcade or…”
Kokichi gazed out across the expanse. A family stood before a storefront. A small boy was glued to the glass. “Mommy, Mommy! Will Santa get me that Lego train set? I want it so badly!”
A memory overtook Kokichi. Backpack weighing him down, the young leader trudged down the city streets. He shivered. Wrapped his threadbare coat around himself tighter.
Bright lights caught his eye. Kokichi gasped. He pressed his nose to the storefront glass. An intricate action figure dressed in martial arts clothes stood on display. Goku from Dragon Ball Z. Goku, the man whose fight with the evil Vegeta had wrecked mountains and cause the Earth to shake, was one of Kokichi’s favorite characters from the show. “Wooow! A real-life DBZ action figure!” It’s so shiny and big! Way better than anything I have. Kokichi only had broken action figures his older brother lifted from yard sales and dumpsters.
“Mommy, Mommy! Look at that!”
A mother with a boy roughly six-years-old – Kokichi’s age – exited the store. The boy pointed to the Goku action figure. “I got Gohan already, but can I have that one too? Santa will get it for me, right? He will!”
The mother ruffled his hair. “Maybe… If you’re a good boy.”
Kokichi gazed down at his stained gloves. A good boy, huh?
Last week Kokichi had approached his mother. She was scrubbing the walls of yellow smoking stains. The boy held out a piece of paper. “Mommy, I made a list for Santa. It’s not long, so maybe he can get one or two. Will you mail it for me? Please?”
She didn’t look up. Between her furrowed brow and the premature lines by her eyes, she always looked as if being pinched. Jaw set, she scrubbed the wall harder. Sighing, Kokichi turned away. Maybe I can get brother Onii-chan to give it to her.
“Santa doesn’t exist. And even if he did, he wouldn’t visit an awful child like you.”
Kokichi stared. The list fell from his hand.
The memory dissipated. Kokichi studied the action figure in the store window. He barely registered the sound of the mother and son walking away. From his pocket Kokichi pulled out some bobby pins and wire. Crude lockpicking tools.
His jacket sleeve fell down, flashing bruised skin at his wrist. Memories flashed before his eyes. The smell of beer. His father screaming. The lingering pain.
If I was caught stealing and Daddy heard…
Grimacing, Kokichi tugged his sleeve down. Sniffed. Wiped his nose. Hugging himself against the cold, the boy trudged down the street alone.
“Kokichi?”
The leader jumped. Whipped around. Mrs. Yumeno, Himiko, and her younger brother Mitsuo were frowning at him. “Th-that’s my name. Don’t wear it out!”
Mrs. Yumeno narrowed her eyes. Glanced at the other family across the mall. Then she smiled. “I was just saying you and Himiko should go off and enjoy yourselves. Mitsuo and I will be just fine. But hold on…” She dug through her double-breasted trench coat and her purse. “I just went to the bank yesterday… Ah, there!” She handed Kokichi a 10,000 yen bill, the equivalent of a 100 dollars. “This is for you. Buy a Christmas gift for yourself from me.”
“But!”
Mrs. Yumeno grabbed Kokichi’s wrist and yanked him close. She smiled like honey. “You spend it on anyone else and I will take you to Chuckie Cheese’s and proclaim it’s your birthday.”
Kokichi gulped. “O-okay…” He pocketed the bill, eyes stinging. “Thanks.”
“Of course, hon!” She patted his head. “I wouldn’t leave you out. Now go have fun! We’ll meet in an hour here at the fountain.”
“All right! See you soon.”
Kokichi and Himiko perused the electronics section. Video games lined the white shelves. Other customers conversed with each other as they scanned the glass display cases of games and consoles. Banners and cardboard stands advertised sales. Radio music played. Kokichi breathed in the smell of plastic and floor cleaner.
Behind him Himiko asked, “Know you want?”
“Mmm, not sure. I could get the latest Shonen Jump fighting game, but they usually suck. My GameCube controller for Smash Ultimate broke. Or maybe new headphones… What about you?” Kokichi turned. The mage, still dressed in her oversize sweater, scarf, and tight pants, had picked up a game. “Whatcha got there? Oooh, that’s a real good find! Got the best game of the year award a few years back. But scalpers got ahold of all the copies and sell them for exuberant prices on the dark net. Finding it here is a Christmas miracle!”
“Kokichi, it’s a Family Feud styled game. The only award it could win is least amount of copies sold. I just…” Himiko brushed a thumb across the cover. A man in a silk top hat, black suit, and white gloves stood onstage, arms outspread. “It just reminded me of my master.”
“Ah.” The image of her master arose in Kokichi’s mind – tall, hunchbacked, wrinkled face with dark, keen eyes. Last month Himiko reunited with her master after participating in an international competition in Las Vegas. Although her master no longer performed shows, he founded a school to teach others magic.
Himiko returned the game back to the shelf. “I wanted to meet him, but a lot of his apprentices are having Christmas performances. Last time I spoke with him was my birthday.”
“Why don’t you talk to him more?”
Sighing, Himiko gripped her upper arm. “It’s… I don’t know, weird. Strange. Different. He was my master. My teacher, my hero. And he was really close to Mom and Mitsuo. He was like family. But now that I’m not his apprentice and he’s not performing…” Himiko bit her lip. “What do we have left?”
Chatting, shoppers passed them, pushing a full cart. Shaking her head, Himiko returned the game to the shelf. “But what about you? Is there anyone you wanted to spend your holidays with?”
“Ha! Joke’s on you, babe.” Laughing, Kokichi spun in a circle, arms wide. Then he held up a finger. “This bad boy spends Christmas every year with his number one!”
“Who?”
“Myself.” He winked.
Himiko rolled her eyes. “But what about your organization? You probably haven’t had a lot of contact with them since attending Hope’s Peak. Aren’t you lonely?”
Kokichi wrapped an arm around her waist. Pulled her close. Held her chin. Grinning, Kokichi deepened his voice to sultry tones. “I won’t be lonely if we spent tonight toget – One of them is right behind me, aren’t they?”
“Uh huh.”
A cane’s crook latched onto Kokichi’s neck and pulled. “Hurgk!”
Mitsuo wielded a giant candy cane meant for outdoor use. He hefted it on his shoulder. At five foot five, Mitsuo looked down at the leader. “Flirting with my sister in public. Have you no shame?”
Kokichi glanced around. Found another candy cane as part of a display. Kokichi spun it overhead like Darth Maul. “You lose, Mitsuo. I have the high ground. I’m older and wiser.”
Mitsuo muttered, “Such a weirdo.” But he crouched and recited the next line. “You underestimate my power as her brother.”
Kokichi charged. “Raaaagh!!”
A hefty older woman at the register growled, “You break it, you buy it!”
The leader scowled. “Bah humbug, you grinch!” Grumbling, he put the candy canes back.
Himiko shook her head. “Must you both act like idiots?”
“You’re the dumbest one here,” chorused Kokichi and Mitsuo.
“Hey!” Huffing, Himiko placed her hands on her hips. “Why are you here, Mitsuo? Weren’t you with Mommy?”
Mitsuo shoved his hands into the pockets of his red jacket. Beneath it he wore a baseball shirt and slacks. “I was. But Mom saw there was a sale on clothes and ditched me.”
Kokichi tsked. “Wow. Rude.” Mitsuo shrugged, like her behavior was to be expected.
“Well, Kokichi wanted to find some headphones, so, Mitsuo, you show him the way. I’m gonna go see if I can find something to enhance my MP.” Waving, Himiko disappeared down another aisle.
After a bit of searching, the boys located some headphones by shelves of music CDs. Headphones demo stands were lined along the back wall. As Mitsuo trialed a CD with headphones on, Kokichi studied him. The fourteen-year-old middle schooler would enter high school next year. Mitsuo’s high cheekbones and heart shape-jawline bore a striking resemblance to his mother and sister. Large Dumbo ears protruded from his head.
Mitsuo removed the headphones. Ran a hand through his crew cut brown hair. “I think these are the best pair. Anything better will be more money than what Mom gave you. Want to get anything else?”
This could be my chance! “I’m good. But what about you? Have you finished your Christmas shopping yet? Do you have something for your mom and Himiko already?”
Smirking, Mitsuo crossed his arms. “I can get away with just giving them a hug and kiss on the cheek. Since I never do that normally.”
“Th-that’s not fair…” Teeth clench, Kokichi balled his hand.
“Don’t tell me you’re struggling for ideas for gifts already? You’re going to have to give Himiko presents for every holiday of the year you know.” Kokichi felt a sinking feeling in his gut. “That’s every Christmas, Valentine’s Day, birthday, anniversary, and Mother’s Day for the many years of the rest of your lives–”
“STOOOOP! No more!” Sweat dotting his face, Kokichi clawed his head.
Mitsuo picked up a packaged set of headphones. “My sister can be pretty finicky sometimes so if you ever need help with her, just text me.”
Kokichi blinked. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Well if you’re going to be family someday, you better learn all her moods. For all our sakes.” He began walking off. “Every time you argue we hear about it. It’s annoying.”
Kokichi grumbled, “Of course…” But he smiled slightly.
The leader hurried to catch up with Mitsuo. Kokichi found the middle schooler staring at a circular rack of marital arts uniforms. “Need another set? Then go on and buy it! Ohhh, are you waiting until after Christmas when everything’s on sale? I getcha. That’s smart.”
“No, I don’t do it anymore.”
“Huh?”
“I guess you wouldn’t know.” Mitsuo pushed up the sleeves of his red jacket and baseball shirt. He held out both arms in front of him. One elbow remained slightly bent. “See?” Mitsuo bent and straightened his right elbow. Only half of the normal elbow motion. “After Dad died and Himiko was traveling with her master, I was… angry. Stupid. I hung out the wrong crowd. While skateboarding, I fell two flights of stairs onto my elbow. Hasn’t worked right since. My karate master kicked me out. Then I tried boxing and kendo but they wouldn’t let me join because I can’t make my arm straight anymore.” Sighing, Mitsuo pulled down his sleeves. “Just as well. I took up a part-time at the grocers afterwards because we needed the…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
Hands in his pockets, Mitsuo headed towards the entrance. “It’s been over an hour. Let’s go find my idiot sister and join Mom at the fountain.”
Frowning, Kokichi watched Mitsuo leave. The leader fingered the karate uniform’s sleeve. Everyone has their own scars, huh? Things that were sacrificed.
Kokichi trailed behind the Yumeno siblings as they approached the fountain. Mrs. Yumeno was hard to spot due to her short stature; she surpassed Kokichi’s height only by an inch. Mrs. Yumeno struggled to lift a hand that held bulging bags to wave. “There you are! Did you have fun?”
Beaming, Himiko held up large gift bags. “I just got a bunch of stuff I could infuse with magic to enhance my performances! You never know what implement you could use for a spell one day.”
Mitsuo waved a hand in dismissal. “I didn’t really need anything, but I was able to help Kokichi out.”
“Oh good, good!”
“Seems you did well yourself, Mrs. Yumeno.” Humming, Kokichi held a finger to his lips. Pointed ends stuck out of Mrs. Yumeno’s bags as though they held boxes. “But it doesn’t look like you went shopping for clothes…”
Mrs. Yumeno smiled wide. “Oh, you’ll take my bags? Such a good child.” She dumped them onto him. Kokichi grunted. “Let’s head to the car then.”
Kokichi staggered forward, burdened by the weight. Breathing hard, Mrs. Yumeno also hung back. Kokichi recalled Himiko saying Mrs. Yumeno’s lungs have always been bad when he first met her mother. “Hey! You’re not gonna collapse on me, right?”
“Hmm? Oh, I’m fine.” Grinning, Mrs. Yumeno flexed while pulling up her sleeve like Rosie the Riveter. “I had to push aside a couple plus-sized women on the way to the bargain bin. Remember, if there’s something you want, you have to fight for it!”
“Ahaha…” I always forget how much of a kook she is.
The automatic doors opened. After crossing the street, Himiko looked over her shoulder. “Hey, Mommy? Try not to hit any parked cars on the way home, okay?”
Mrs. Yumeno whacked the back of her head. Himiko laughed. Kokichi was still fighting the smile tugging at his lips as he climbed into the car.
Kokichi set down the shopping bags on the kitchen island. Yawning, Kokichi stretched his arms overhead. “Oh, don’t be tired yet! We have so much to do,” exclaimed Mrs. Yumeno, walking over and peering into the bags. “Ah, yes. Here it is. I got a gift for you!”
“Huh? But you already gave me 10,000 yen!”
“Yes, but a good mother spoils her children.”
Kokichi frowned. But I’m not your…
“And I am not a good mother. I am the best, most beautiful and gracious–”
“And most ditzy,” interjected Mitsuo. Himiko snickered. Mrs. Yumeno glared at them. Heads bowed, the siblings busied themselves with placing their bags on the kitchen table.
“Anyway, anyway, go sit down!” Mrs. Yumeno waved her hands, shooing Kokichi from the kitchen. “I’m giving my present to you now.”
Himiko smoothed out the pale blue tablecloth. Pulled out one of the four chairs. “You can’t argue with her, Kokichi. She gets too excited and can’t help herself. She’ll buy gifts for us in September but can’t wait until our birthdays or Christmas.” Mitsuo nodded.
Sighing, Kokichi sat. Mrs. Yumeno placed a couple bags on the table before him. Brow raised, Kokichi dug through them. Gasped. Christmas themed t-shirts and sweaters filled the bags. He held a white sweater with a snowman’s face on it.
“I noticed you weren’t wearing anything festive and asked Himiko about it,” Mrs. Yumeno explained. “Not dressing the part is a crime! You always have to look your best, or so says my accountant officer workers.” She made a face.
“I…” Kokichi swallowed. Then jutted his chin in the air. “My suitcases are already stuffed – thanks so much for the 11th hour warning by the way – so there’s no way this will fit.”
Smirking, Mrs. Yumeno crossed her arms. “If you have to leave to leave some clothes here, then you’ll have to visit us again to pick them up. Win-win!”
Kokichi gazed at her, mouth slightly agape. I was just being… And she just brushed…
The mother patted his shoulder. “Now quick, run upstairs to the guest bedroom and change. I have a surprise for you all. And then there’s a house and a tree that need decorating.”
Kokichi looked at the snowman sweater. It smiled back at him. Bags in hand, Kokichi hurried up the stairs.
After changing, Kokichi returned to his spot at the foot of the kitchen table. In anticipation he drummed his fingers on the pale blue tablecloth. Mrs. Yumeno rummaged through the shopping bags on the island. “Ah-ha! Here it is.” She pulled out boxes of gingerbread house making kits. Himiko and Mitsuo cheered. Kokichi muttered, “Ahhh…” So those were the boxes in Mrs. Yumeno’s bags at the mall.
The mother handed out the kits as well as icing and candy to decorate them. “Okay we have to do our best now. We’ll be participating in the town contest!”
Wide eyed, Kokichi whipped his head up. “Whoa, really?”
“Uh-huh.” Smiling, Himiko wagged a finger. “Mommy’s the reigning champion for the past three years.”
Scowling, Mitsuo scored open his box. “Mine are better than hers.”
Kokichi gripped his box tightly. The picture showed a small house was filled with details like icing dripping off the roof to mimic icicles, licorice swirl pattern on the walls, and even windows which glimpsed inside. Kokichi swallowed.
Mrs. Yumeno clapped her hands. “It’s a family tradition!”
“I… see.” Then I shouldn’t…
Everyone laughed. “Huh?” Frowning, Kokichi glanced between their faces.
Grinning, Mrs. Yumeno squeezed Kokichi’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, hon. I was just messing with you. There’s no contest. Relax! Have fun.”
Kokichi scowled. Glared. Mrs. Yumeno rubbed his head, chuckling. Even after she had removed her hand Kokichi stayed still. Savored the warmth. Flushing, the leader puffed out his cheeks. “Just gimme the supplies already.”
Fifteen minutes later, Kokichi was kneeling at table, face only a few inches from his gingerbread house. Armed with a tissue and toothpick, Kokichi traced a pattern in the icing with the focus of a brain surgeon. He pressed too hard. The roof caved in. “Damn it!”
Mrs. Yumeno looked up. “Need help?”
Mitsuo snickered. “Awww, you need Mommy’s help?”
Himiko grinned. “It’s okay, don’t be upset. Mommy will fix it–”
“Shut up!” Kokichi pounded his fist. The walls collapsed. “Fuck!”
Holding their stomachs, everyone bent over laughing.
Kokichi stood on his tiptoes to affix stockings along the shelf above the stone fireplace. “…traveling with my organization, I’ve seen Christmas in every major country. And in America, Christmas is like waaaay bigger than here. Lit up house displays, mall Santas, and singing carols. Yes, carols! Hundreds of ‘em! My fav’s ‘Winter Wonderland’. Oh, but, ‘Holly Jolly Christmas’ is good, too. And– hey, you listening?”
Scowling, Kokichi turned around. Mitsuo stood on a ladder tying garland to the living room’s ceiling line. Finished, he leaned back. Grinned. Humming, Himiko slapped on decals to the window. “Oh no, wait. The snowman should be next to the igloo. There we go.” From Himiko’s phone, Christmas bells pealed quietly. The warm glow of the lamps kept the dark, cold outside at bay.
Lips parted, Kokichi soaked in the sight. A smile bloomed across his face. Tear rolled down.
Mrs. Yumeno entered, a plate of cookies in hand. “Cookies, everyone! Come eat while they’re warm!”
“Ooh, cookies!” Himiko and Mitsuo ran up to her.
Kokichi rushed to join them. “Don’t forget me! Hey, Mitsuo. I could show you some self-defense pointers after this.”
“Really? That would be awesome, actually!”
“Now, now. You’ll have to wait until after we finish decorating the tree. And do it outside.”
“But Mom!”
“But it’s coooooold.”
“No buts. Last thing I need is for you two to break something while you’re roughhousing. Go eat at the kitchen table. Then help me carry the ornaments down from the attic.”
“Fiiiine. Guess we’ll have to do it tomorrow morning, Mitsuo. It’s getting dark anyways.”
“We can play Smash Ultimate tonight then.”
“Ooh, me too, me too!”
“All right, but you gotta try, Himi! None of this kamikazeing off the stage for laughs…”
Kokichi shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m helping decorate the tree.” Hands on his hips, the leader stepped back to survey the view. The TV rested above the fireplace. A faded leather couch and love seat with antimacassars faced the hearth. Bells, tea cups, and music boxes stocked the glass display cabinets. A 6-foot tree stood before one of the bookshelves flanking the fireplace.
Kokichi huffed, smelling the fresh pine. “The tree should have been up long before this. I mean, two days before Christmas? Come on, Japan. Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
Himiko laughed as she unwrapped a Santa head ornament. “You still going on about that?”
“Yeah, I am. Why? Why does that make you laugh?”
The mage shook her head. Passed the ornament to Kokichi to hang. “You just remind me of someone I knew.”
“Who?”
But Himiko had turned away, digging through a box.
“She means our Dad.” Kokichi turned. Mitsuo approached the tree to stand beside the leader. Kokichi remembered seeing a picture of Mr. Yumeno during his first visit here. Squarish face, brown eyes, and bumpy, hooked nose. His red hair marked him as a foreigner. He had died eight years ago from an early heart attack.
Mitsuo fastened an ornament, eyes on his hands instead of Kokichi. “Every year Dad would complain about how Japan celebrates Christmas versus America. How different it was from what he remembered as a kid growing up in the States.”
“And why would that make her laugh? I don’t get it.”
Mitsuo handed Kokichi an ornament. “Just sounds like you belong.”
Speechless, Kokichi stared. He glanced down at the object in his hand. The star for the tree.
Gasping, Mrs. Yumeno pressed a hand to her one-button pink sweater. “Oh, the star! My husband used to have the distinction of putting it on the tree every year. Now you do.”
“B-but… Shouldn’t Mitsuo?”
Mitsuo shrugged. He retrieved the ladder he used earlier for hanging the garland. “You’re older than me. You whinny, immature chibi.”
Growling, Kokichi wrenched the ladder from his grasp. He set it down, climbed it, and put the star on top of the tree. After stepping down, the family stood back to admire the tree. The gold and red balls looked quite sharp against the green pine. Tinsel shimmered in the light. A hodgepodge of ornaments from old fashioned toys like trains, to glass icicles, to handmade crafts hung from the branches. The multicolor lights glowed steadily.
A bare, wilting two-foot tree flashed before Kokichi’s eyes.
Kokichi gazed at the full, decorated Yumeno tree. Smiled.
Mitsuo crossed his arms. “Not bad, I guess.”
Mrs. Yumeno put an arm around his shoulder. “It’s our best one ever!”
“That’s right!” Himiko shouted.
“Poor Himiko,” sighed Kokichi. “It’s pretty sad that a tree is prettier than you.”
“Excuse me?!”
Mrs. Yumeno covered her mouth with a hand. “You know, you’re right. She was much cuter when she was younger.”
“MOM!”
Mitsuo smirked. “She is pretty ugly. You should stop dating her.”
Kokichi laughed, “Maybe I will!”
“MITSUO!”
Mrs. Yumeno and Kokichi laughed. Snarling, Himiko seized Mitsuo’s ear and twisted it. “You’re not a catch yourself, Dumbo ears!”
Mitsuo stretched out Himiko’s cheek. “At least I’m normal, you magic freak!”
“How dare you!” Grunting and shouting, they reached each other’s faces and pulled whatever they grabbed.
“Uh…” Kokichi glanced up at Mrs. Yumeno. She was watching them, hiding a smile behind a hand. “You gonna stop them anytime soon?”
“Hmhmhm! Why would I? This is them playing.” Mrs. Yumeno heaved a long sigh. Her brown eyes gazed far off into the distance. “After my husband passed, Himiko lost all her energy and Mitsuo was never home. This empty house hasn’t heard their bickering in forever.” Mrs. Yumeno smiled at him. “Thank you for bringing it back.”
Kokichi quickly looked away. What are you saying? I was just being a jerk like usual. Just what is up with this family? If I ever spoke out of turn when I was a kid…
Mrs. Yumeno returned her sights to the fighting siblings. She crossed her arms. “As long as you remember these good times you’ve had together, you don’t need gifts or physical reminders.”
Kokichi blinked. Memories, huh? The Dragon Ball Z figure he wanted to steal arose in Kokichi’s mind. His mother refusing to mail his Christmas list. His brother’s dying Christmas tree. Kokichi looked down at his hands. “That so…?”
Mitsuo shoved Himiko aside. After glaring at her sidelong, he huffed, “Anyway. We’re done here, right, Mom?”
“You have to clean up first.”
“Thank God,” breathed Mitsuo. Muttering under his breath, he shoved ornament boxes into the containers. “I’m gonna play Smash Bros and Streets of Rage in my room alone with the door closed and–”
“Hey!” Himiko cried. “You promised to play with Kokichi and me!”
“Why should I? You’ll just get upset when I kick your ass.”
“I will not!”
Chuckling, Kokichi stepped forward to help pack.
Kokichi peered out of the guest bedroom. Pictures of Yumeno children lined the wainscoted walls. Across the hall was Mitsuo’s bedroom and down the hall was the paneled door of Himiko’s bedroom. Kokichi listened. Only the sound of the central air. Purple pjs on, Kokichi padded down the hallway in his socks. Kokichi grinned. I’ll show them. I can make an award-winning gingerbread house. If I do the walls and roof one at time and then paste it together, it won’t keep falling apart!
“What are you doing?”
Kokichi froze.
“You can’t keep doing this.” Brow raised, Kokichi crept down a couple steps. Leaned over the balustrade. Thanks to the paneled glass door at the hall’s end, Kokichi could peer into the kitchen. He glimpsed the back of Mitsuo’s baseball shirt. “You know you can’t, Mom.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hon. Now you should really go back to–”
“…all these decorations and gifts. We can barely afford it!”
Ice chilled Kokichi’s blood.
“That’s enough,” Mrs. Yumeno whisper shouted. Raising her voice sparked a coughing fit. After it passed, she cleared her throat. “Listen. This is his first Christmas with us. Maybe the first he’s celebrated with others in a while. I could not call myself a mother if I didn’t make it the best Christmas he’s ever had.”
Kokichi’s eyes burned.
In a softer tone, Mrs. Yumeno continued, “So leave the worrying about the bills to me, okay? You’re much too young. Besides, I’ve been saving up; this isn’t some sacrifice. If you want to help, get along with him just as you have been.”
A pause. Long exhale. “All right. I’ll try. I won’t bring it up anymore.”
Kokichi leaned back, thinking. The leader remembered from his first visit here that Mrs. Yumeno became an accountant to pay the bills after her husband died, but she originally wanted to be a teacher.
“Whaaat?!” Kokicahi wailed. “Where are the presents? I didn’t get anything? But why, Onii-chan…?”
“Don’t be greedy,” Kokichi’s older brother snapped. “I got you a tree to quit your belly aching so be grateful. We all have to make sacrifices.”
Sacrifices… Kokichi thought, gripping the stair railing tight. Not if I can help it.
Hefting his white write on backpack, Kokichi crept up the stairs. One creaked under the boy’s weight. He froze. Listened. His mother snored away. While Father was out working, she drank alcohol from a stash kept hidden from him after finishing chores. Grinning, Kokichi stole up the last few stairs. It’s Christmas Eve, it’s Christmas Eve! Did I get anything? Maybe a new DS or chess board. The latest Shonen Jump manga issue! Kokichi gasped. Or maybe the Goku or Vegeta action figure!
Kokichi opened his bedroom door. The small, cramped room was equipped with only the bare essentials of furniture: beds on the right, a desk on the left, closet in the back. The sun shone gray through the dingy, basketball-sized window above the beds. The smell of mothballs and must lingered in the air like smog.
Kagami glanced up. Straight black hair brushed his shoulders. The elder brother narrowed his dark eyes. Frowning, Kagami returned to the desk. Papers and Kagami’s hand carved chess pieces lay scattered across the surface. “Make sure you’re quiet. If you wake up Mother, I am not responsible for any screaming and hitting that follows.”
Kokichi shivered. Cold bled through the thin walls of the rowhouse. The heater, much like every appliance in the house, was broken. Father believed money was better spent on booze and horse races. “Where…?” The six-year-old walked forward, looking around. “Did I get any–?” He drew to a halt.
A two-foot tree stood in the lone back corner of the room. With its bare, brown branches, it resembled a pile of sticks for firewood. No presents.
“Whaaat?!” Kokichi wailed. “Where are the presents? I didn’t get anything? But why, Onii-chan…?”
“Don’t be greedy,” Kokichi’s older brother snapped. “I got you a tree to quit your belly aching so be grateful. We all have to make sacrifices.”
Kokichi hung his head. His backpack slid to the ground. “Onii-chan… is Santa real?”
“Why would you ask?” Kokichi studied his brother in his peripheral vision. Same dark hair and eyes, high cheekbones, narrow nose and sharp jaw. Despite a large age gap of ten years, two brothers appeared almost identical. Kagami crossed his arms over his stained oversized sweatshirt. “You figured that out long ago.”
Kokichi bit his lip. “I know but… I wanted Mommy to read my wish list for Santa. To have one or two of the things I wrote to come true.” Kokichi ground the heel of his palm into an eye. His voice shook. “To play with Mommy. For Daddy to stop drinking. To watch more TV and not be h-hit and…” Kokichi hiccupped. Hot tears slid down his face. “To be a, be a happy family… But that’s never gonna happen.” Shoulders shaking, Kokichi buried his face in his hands. “Cuz I’m bad boooy…!” Kokichi’s tiny body wracked with his sobs.
A sigh.
Kokichi felt something rest on his head. A hand. Blinking, Kokichi looked up with puffy red eyes. Kagami was gazing down at him. “Listen. I’m your brother. I’m right here. So stop your whining.” Smirking, Kagami flicked Kokichi’s cheek. “Cheeky, Kichi,” he said in English.
Kokichi rubbed his cheek, scowling. “Why won’t you tell me what that means…?”
As Kagami withdrew his hand, Kokichi glimpsed his brother’s palm. Kokichi gasped. Scrapes, blisters, and welts marred it as though diseased. From a knife? Kokichi whipped his head around. Kagami’s carving knife on the desk looked worn down. Dull. Unusable. The bottom of the Christmas tree was unevenly cut.
“We all have to make sacrifices.”
Kokichi grimaced.
Kagami jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the door. “Let’s go outside. Make a snowman or something.”
The boy bit his lip. “Okay.” Kokichi’s dirty and bruised hand reached for his hand. Clasped Kagami’s battered, but warm hand. Kokichi smiled. “Sounds fun, Onii-chan.”
Hand on the open doorway, Kokichi scanned the Yumeno living room. Lights off. Curtains drawn shut against the night. In the dark the multicolor Christmas lights glowed like a colorful aurora borealis. A small pile of wrapped gifts lay beneath the tree. The house creaked. Kokichi shivered. Cold seeped in like an encroaching fog. Kokichi silently entered. Under the tree’s lights, Kokichi arranged some items on the table. A printed-out email and bill. Certificate. Silk hat with an autographed slip of paper.
Kokichi straightened. Exhaled. He zipped up his black jacket. Checked the gloves in the pockets of his wool pants. Headed towards the front door.
There, lying on a couch barricading the front door, was Mrs. Yumeno sleeping. She breathed quietly in her smiling sun patterned pjs.
The hell…?! Kokichi glanced at the hallway behind him. The stairs leading upstairs sat on the right. Living room to the left, Mrs. Yumeno’s office and bedroom behind a door to the right. The back exit lay beyond the kitchen at the end of the hall. Kokichi crept towards it.
The floorboard creaked. Kokichi froze.
“Why, good morning, Kokichi. Did you really think I was asleep?”
Shit, shit, damn it, shit!
Smiling wide, Kokichi raised a hand over his shoulder. “I was just getting a glass of water. …and maybe checking on the presents.” Mrs. Yumeno made a low humming noise. “But don’t worry, I didn’t touch anything! Scout’s honor. Anyway, I’ll be going now–”
“Mitsuo? Hi, sorry to wake you. Can you drag your sister down here please?”
Kokichi glanced over his shoulder. Mrs. Yumeno was sitting up on the couch, phone in hand. Covering the phone, she smiled at Kokichi. The mother’s silky-smooth voice almost purred. “Move one inch, hon, and I’ll burn all your Christmas presents and make you watch.”
Exhaling, Kokichi leaned his head back. He balled his hands into fists. Goddamnit all.
After a few minutes, Mitsuo helped the bleary-eyed Himiko down the stairs as though guiding a blind person. The brother wore gray sweats while Himiko had an owl shirt with flannel purple bottom. The mage promptly sat on a stair, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes. Mrs. Yumeno pointed to the living room. Yawning, Mitsuo entered. He remerged a moment later, frowning, with a collection of items in hand. “Let’s see… There’s an old silk magic hat here and a signed paper that reads ‘David Copperfield’?”
Squealing, Himiko ripped it out of his hands. “David Copperfield? David Copperfield?! He’s only the greatest illusionist magician of all time!!” She jumped up and down. “And is this his hat? He would only give that to a… Did my master get this? Kokichi, did you…?” Himiko gazed down at the hat, smiling. “And after I was having trouble talking to my master. You’re right. Even if he isn’t my master, we’ll always love magic. Thank you, Kichi.”
Mitsuo held up a certificate bearing his name. “Yeah, but what’s this? Says I’m enrolled in a martial arts dojo. We sparred yesterday morning; you saw how my right elbow doesn’t work. Why would they accept me? Unless…” Mitsuo’s eyes widened. “After our training, you visited a dojo and mimicked my injury, showing them what I’m capable of?” Blinking, Mitsuo studied the certificate. “I haven’t been able to in years… I guess you’re not so bad.”
Eyes on Kokichi, Mrs. Yumeno held out her hand. Mitsuo gave her a bill and a printed-out email. She silently read it. Gasping, she clutched her chest. “Oh my god.” She glared at him. “You didn’t…”
Kokichi had paid off the rest of the house’s mortgage. The email showed an application for a teacher job to cover someone leaving on maternity leave.
“Hey, I’m the Ultimate Supreme Leader. I run a global organization 10,000 members strong. Money is no object to me.”
Voice shaking, Mrs. Yumeno whispered, “Why…?” Tears welled in her eyes. Kokichi stilled. “Why would you feel the need to do this? A simple candle or something would have been fine. And why would you try to leave when I invited you? How could you–?”
Kokichi held up his hands and cried, “Look, I’m not normal, okay?! No matter how many stupid, normie activities you force me to do, I will never be normal, so…” Swallowing, Kokichi looked at the ground. “I don’t belong here.”
Brow raised, Himiko crossed her arms. “‘Stupid activities’? Says the person who wore Mom’s sweater she got you, pigged out on cookies, and was far too invested in the gingerbread house.”
Hand on a hip, Mitsuo threw up his other hand. “Besides, everyone else here isn’t normal anyway. Mom’s always lost in clouds and Himiko thinks she’s a mage. Your Supreme Leader nonsense fits right in.”
Kokichi shook his head slightly. “I can get you accepting me and Himiko’s relationship.” Pale, Kokichi screwed his eyes shut. Voice whisper soft, he whispered, “But family?”
Mrs. Yumeno’s face twisted. “I told you over and over that you’re…” She shook her head, exhaling. She reached beneath the pillow on the couch. Held out a wrapped rectangular package. “Here.”
Frowning, Kokichi unwrapped it. A book? He opened it. Pictures filled the photo album. Him sticking a gumdrop in Himiko’s hair as she worked on a gingerbread house. Helping Mrs. Yumeno ice the Christmas cookies. Him and Mitsuo double teaming to wrap Himiko up in tinsel. Even pictures from previous visits like his birthday party filled the pages.
“You don’t have to bribe us, honey, or give us gifts.” Mrs. Yumeno stood up. Walked to his side. Squeezed his shoulder. Sniffing, Kokichi looked up, eyes red-rimmed. She smiled down at him. “Because the best gift you can give is being here with us. All the memories we’ve made that we’ll treasure forever.” Mrs. Yumeno brushed back his bangs. Kissed his forehead.
Tears welled up and spilled onto Kokichi’s cheeks. “Th-that’s cheating. I don’t the know l-last time… if I was ever…”
“Oh, c’mere.” Mrs. Yumeno enveloped the leader in a fierce hug. Closing his eyes, Kokichi buried his face into her shoulder.
After withdrawing, Kokichi smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”
Himiko wiped her eyes. Mitsuo crossed his arms. “I’m not calling you onii-chan.” Scowling, Himiko swatted his arm.
Mrs. Yumeno chuckled. “Merry Christmas, Kokichi.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Kokichi pumped a fist in the air. “Now let’s go open presents!”
Everyone cheered.