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One snowy morning, Karamatsu awoke to a surprise. He was being kicked, politely but firmly, in the back of the head.
“Good morning, brother, ” he mumbled, his voice dropping from a high adenoidal whisper to its usual tone as he stirred and yawned. “What can I do for you...?”
“Get up, maggot.” Ichimatsu scowled. “Your stupid phone’s been going off for ages and it woke us all up.”
Karamatsu blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and sat up under the heavy winter duvet. Four identical grouchy, sleepy faces squinted back at him.
“Heh. My apologies,” he said. “My Karamatsu girls must be getting in early for Christmas Eve.”
“Tell ‘em to piss off,” said Ichimatsu. He dropped the phone onto Karamatsu’s forehead with some force then stormed grumpily over to the opposite side of the futon.
“We’re trying to sleep here,” Todomatsu complained as his brother shuffled in next to him and pulled the covers over both of their heads. “For God’s sake, Karamatsu-niisan, it’s only 10:00 am…”
The bedroom was very cold and very dark, apart from soft grey light creeping in the gaps in the blinds, and the glowing screen of Karamatsu’s old Galapagos-brand flip-phone. It showed about a dozen unread text messages and 10 missed calls. None of them were from Karamatsu girls. Karamatsu felt his heart freeze solid.
“Oh no! Mistake!” Karamatsu yelped. He jumped up from the futon, out of the room, and down the stairs with the speed of a runaway one-horse open sleigh.
His parents were sitting at the small heated tea-table in front of the television when Karamatsu flung open the sliding door to the living room. It rattled the house so much, it could have shaken the snow off the roof.
“ Mummy! Daddy! ” he cried. “It’s an emergency!”
“Must be if you’re up this early, son,” said Matsuzou, clearly concerned.
“Goodness, did you have a bad dream, my poor little NEET?” said Matsuyo. “You’re white as a sheet.”
“No dreams. Just a bad reality.”
Matsuyo shifted under the kotatsu blankets, as though she were about to stand up to comfort her son but thought better of it. Instead she gestured for him to come over and have some mandarins.
But there wasn’t time, Karamatsu explained, still lingering anxiously in the doorway. He needed a lift down to Yokohama immediately. He was running late for a one-day Christmas casual job, which of course his parents were delighted to hear. But he’d slept through all his alarms and needed someone to shuttle him down there, which they were not.
“Couldn’t you say you’re running late because of the snow?” Matsuzou suggested, himself a past master at excuses for showing up late to work. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“No, they wouldn’t.” Karamatsu shook his head. “Because they is Chibita.”
“Ah,” said Matsuzou. He saw the problem immediately. It had taken them ages to clear up the blood and mustard from the last time the sextuplets had gotten on his bad side. “Not one to forgive easily, if I recall correctly.”
“He does have a temper on him, that chap,” Matsuyo agreed. “But then again, can you really blame the poor dear? After all, he was--“
“Shush, shush,” Matsuzou interrupted, “don’t gossip about other people’s private affairs.”
“I wasn’t gossiping! I was just commenting.”
But temper or no, Matsuzou still hadn’t gotten around to fitting the snow tires. Karamatsu was on his own for this one. If he hurried, he might just make the train.
Karamatsu slipped into his winter gear and shuffled down the icy pavement to the station. This took some care given that his winter gear, for this occasion, consisted of a shimmering velour Santa Claus costume, with shimmering blue rhinestone details he’d added himself for an added touch of class.
Once he was off the black ice, he sent a text message saying that he was on his way, and followed it up with a smiley face. The phone rang back immediately.
“Lemme take a wild guess here, Kara-boy,” Chibita’s voice crackled on the other end of the line. He spoke without a greeting. “I been out here since the ass-crack of dawn slaving over a hot stew pot, and all the while you been snoozing away in your comfy bed.”
“Yes,” said Karamatsu, unnecessarily in English. “But fear not! I’m on my way.”
Karamatsu could practically hear Chibita rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. “For the love of... Just get your ass down here already! I only need you for one thing, idjit.”
“Just the one thing? I'm happy to stay for the afternoon.”
“The one thing,” Chibita snapped. “Then ya can jump in a lake for all I care!”
“I’m sorry,” said Karamatsu. “Honestly, I am, and if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you--”
“Just don't screw up for once in your life!”
The phone clicked off. Karamatsu’s heart stung. The morning was off to a bad start. He had nobody to blame but himself.
--
Karamatsu was being a bit diplomatic when he described his Christmas Eve responsibility as a “job.” Really, Chibita was just calling in a favor.
See, due to a complicated set of circumstances, about which there was an unspoken agreement never to talk about directly, Chibita wasn’t listed on any civil family register. Born off the grid, was how he put it. These things happen, right? No point whining about it.
But for this reason, Chibita didn’t legally exist according to the Japanese government. It made things like getting into high school or getting a license more trouble than they were worth. Hell, even the name “Chibita” was a nickname that had a nice ring to it and he never outgrew. And, let’s face it, the baby-face didn’t help.
He didn’t let it get to him, Chibita insisted, and 9 times out of 10 it wasn’t a problem. Most everyone in Akatsuka Ward recognized him as the scrappy kid who grew up and made good. They’d look the other way when he needed to sign lease forms or stock up on beer kegs for the oden cart.
But for Christmas this year, Chibita explained, he was gonna be off home turf. He was hitching his oden wagon to the stars. After months of planning and scrimping and saving, he was headed for the big time: the Red Brick Christmas Fair.
The was held in the old foreign quarter on the opposite side of Tokyo Bay. Importantly, it was full of well-heeled bougie types ready to be parted from their holiday bonuses. It was the biggest, chintziest Christmas fair of them all, like they crammed a whole theme park full of seasonal tchotchkes -- trees and Santas and ice skating and mulled wine, you name it -- into one fancy strip-mall. But you know the one thing they didn’t have? The one thing they didn’t know they needed?
“Oden?” Karamatsu had guessed.
“Bingo!”
Only problem here was Chibita needed was someone with a legit ID proving they were over 20 to sign in for him at the registration desk. All Karamatsu had to do was show up and be Karamatsu for a few minutes.
“Whaddya say, Kara-boy? Reckon you could handle that?” Chibita had asked him, a few weeks back.
Karamatsu looked up. “Kara-boy?” That was an old chestnut. Karamatsu assumed he’d long since lost the rights to the nickname after he skipped out a rent-sharing agreement at the last minute and left an unmentionable mess on the living room floor. Their friendship never did quite bounce back after that, and this bothered him deeply. This is why Karamatsu was so taken aback.
Karamatsu lowered his shades and flashed a winning smile. “It’s the part I was born to play,” he said. He’d go above and beyond. He’d show up and help out with the stall, just like old times. He’d even do the whole thing in full Santa regalia if it’d help drum up customers. “I won’t let you down, best friend!”
“Let’s not go nuts,” replied Chibita drily.
Karamatsu’s heart stung at the memory. Now as he waited for the lights to change at the pedestrian crossing, he idly scrolled the morning’s backlog of increasingly angry text messages: good morning smiley face oden emoji, see you soon, here now, waiting now, are you gonna be late, where the hell are you, I knew I shoulda gotten Ichimatsu for this, wake the fuck up ya shitty NEET, and then several more that aren’t fit to reprint in a holiday-themed story.
Either get here by noon or don’t bother coming at all, said the last one. I’m used to you letting me down.
That tangible absence of cuss words cut all the deeper. It burned Karamatsu’s heart like chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
But Karamatsu wouldn’t give into despair. Poor Chibita was counting on him, he reminded himself. This was his last chance to prove what a nice, dependable, lovely and cool friend he could be after all.
Karamatsu steeled himself. He’d have to really make a run for it if he were to make it in time. The lights changed.
Just then, Karamatsu felt a tap on his shoulder. A handsome, smiling man with expensive-looking glasses and a nice faun duffle coat beamed at him.
“Aha! I knew it was you!” said the man, a bright smile across his face. “You’re looking so well! How have you been?”
“Pardon?” Karamatsu was quite startled. Although normally he wouldn’t mind the attention, he was in a hurry, and he didn’t recognize this Karamatsu Boy at all.
“You look much more like your old self,” the man continued and poked Karamatsu affectionately in the tummy with his forefinger. “Better than your old self, in fact! Looks like the kids have been leaving you out plenty of milk and cookies this time of year, eh?
“Er, have we met?” asked Karamatsu timidly, taking a careful step back.
“Ha! ‘Have we met'... There’s that quirky sense of humor of yours we love so much.” The man took Karamatsu’s gloved hands into his own and began to lead him down the road, away from the station.
“Excuse me,” Karamatsu cut in desperately as he tried to pull away, “but why do you know who I am?”
The man laughed. “Why, you’re Santa, of course!”
Karamatsu blinked. His mind went blank as a snowdrift. “I’m… Santa?”
“Of course, yes, you’re Santa! Now come, come,” the man insisted. “You really must come and say hello to the missus. She’ll be so happy to see you again.”
The man led Karamatsu down the street to a picturesque little park, where he waved a sweet-faced woman with bobbed brown hair sitting on a bench.
“Michiru, darling, look! It’s a Christmas miracle!” shouted the man. “I’ve found Santa!”
The woman blinked and rose to her feet. “Tatsuya, could that be… Santa? Oh, Santa! It really is you!”
At this Karamatsu felt a nervous sweat beading behind the white fur trim of his Santa hat. Although the couple appeared to be normal, they were utterly convinced about this Santa business. He didn’t know how to break the news to them any more than he did to Jyushimatsu.
“Uh, I’m afraid there may be a little bit of a misunderstanding,” he croaked out. ”I’m not the Santa, I’m…just one of his helpers. My name is Matsuno --”
“Yes, yes, we know, Matsuno-san! You’re our Santa!” The woman clasped her hands together almost reverently. “Our love might never have blossomed if it weren’t for you.”
Karamatsu gulped, and his voice crept upwards. “M-Me? But how…?”
“You were right there with us, on that special Christmas Eve night, and well…” The woman looked to her husband and waited for him to finish the sentence.
“The rest is history.” The gentleman put his arm around the woman’s waist and pulled her in for a tender embrace. “It was our Christmas miracle, isn’t it, darling?”
“It is, my love. Truly, it is. And it’s all thanks to Santa...”
The pair gazed into each other’s eyes with such schmoopy tenderness even Karamatsu began to feel annoyed. Surely not all couples were this bad on Christmas Eve, were they? He began to walk backward, quietly, hoping they wouldn’t notice him, but the mother didn’t miss a beat.
“Oh, but wait, Santa! You haven’t met our little one!”
With that, the happy mother pulled a tiny, warbling baby out of its stroller and thrust it into Karamatsu’s arms.
“San-ta,” the baby cooed, looking up at Karamatsu.
“His first word!” The mother gasped in delight. Happy tears welled at the corners of her eyes. “It’s another Christmas miracle! Thank you, Santa!”
“Thank you, Santa!” echoed the man, getting the whole thing on video on his smartphone.
Karamatsu had never been so confused in all his life. It was like he’d wandered into some holiday special of the Twilight Zone. But there was no option now but to play along. He’d have to break out the Karamatsu acting magic for this, if he were to have any hope of escape.
“Ho, ho, ho,” Karamatsu bellowed with as much Christmas cheer as he could muster on short notice. “So good to see you again. But I’ve left the sleigh double-parked at the station so I really must be getting on my way now. Ho, ho, ho.”
He moved to return the baby to the mother, but the poor little thing began to cry, and tore off Karamatsu’s fluffy false beard. “San-ta, San-ta!” it wailed.
“But don’t fret, little baby! Here’s something to remember me by.” Karamatsu thought fast, and pulled off his jolly Santa hat for the baby to try on. The jingling bell at the end had the infant enthralled.
“It’s another Christmas miracle…” the father sighed dreamily. “Thank you, Santa.”
“All in a day’s work for Santa, baby,” said Karamatsu, snapping his fingers as best as he could through the gloves. While the couple was distracted, he tiptoed back through the snow and towards the walked through the ice as quickly as he could muster. He checked his watch: almost 11 now. He could still make it, if he was lucky. But he heard a voice call back out to him from the park behind him.
“Goodbye, Ichimatsu-kun! And Merry Christmas!”
Karamatsu froze for just a second in his tracks. Some questions, he decided, were best left unanswered.
--
After all that, Karamatsu just barely made his first connecting train. Snow had begun to fall again outside. Thank goodness the Akatsuka metro was heated, he thought. The train slowed to the next station at Akatsuka-Honcho, and Karamatsu felt a new surge of warmth through his core.
The train doors slid open, and through them stepped a familiar figure: Totoko Yowai in all her winter finery, a snowy gust billowing behind her like some pagan Winter queen. Snowflakes speckled her chestnut hair like a diadem, and the winter chill brought out a dash of pink to her cheeks. She even sneezed adorably, like a kitten. That’s our Totoko-chan , Karamatsu thought fondly, our Madonna.
“Oh, hello, Karamatsu-kun,” Totoko said. She tiptoed across the near-empty train carriage and took a seat near her old friend. “It’s so cold, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it gets like that in Winter,” Karamatsu mused philosophically.
“Say, Karamatsu-kun!” Totoko twirled the tip of one of her pigtails idly around her index finger. “This might be a bit sudden, but do you have plans for today?”
“Wh-Why do you ask, Totoko-chan?”
“Could you hang around with me for the afternoon?” Totoko asked sweetly. “I could really use your help with something.”
“You mean as a date?” Karamatsu blinked. “On Christmas Eve, at that?”
“You could think of it like that, I suppose. As long as you don’t quote me on it.”
Karamatsu felt his heart leap at the wall of his chest like an old cartoon. His mind went blank. His eagerness to please was always desperately naked, and when a pretty girl was involved, it damn near tore its skin off.
“W-Well!” Karamatsu stuttered. “What did you have in mind, Totoko-chan?
“You won’t have to say anything or do anything,” Totoko continued. “In fact, I’d ask that you don't. And for the record, and you can keep your hands to yourself, thank you very much. But you’re strong, aren’t you?”
“Heh,” said Karamatsu, flexing slightly in his Santa jacket. “Naturally.”
“And, hypothetically, you wouldn’t mind carrying a few things for me, would you?”
“I suppose not.”
“And don’t you just love the big department shops in Shibuya?”
To his vague disappointment, Karamatsu had an inkling where this might be going. “You’d like me to carry around your shopping bags again, Totoko-chan?”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Karamatsu-kun!” Totoko giggled. “Not the bags. I meant me, silly goose.”
“Eh? As in carry you around?”
“Yes! I was just thinking could really use a piggy-back,” Totoko said and nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Haven’t you seen the forecast for today? It’s going to be bucketing down with snow all afternoon. And I just got these adorable new shoes, see? I wanted to show them off, but I’d hate to see them ruined.”
Totoko stuck her shapely, stockinged legs out in front of her. She had on a slipper-shaped pair of sea-blue ballet flats with a pretty fur trim and snowflake details at the heels. Not at all appropriate for the snow, Totoko explained, but Karamatsu could definitely see the aesthetic appeal. Good fashion sense, that Totoko, he thought admiringly.
“It would be so much more convenient than walking around in the snow,” Totoko concluded. “So how about it?”
That’s a whole new meaning for picking up a girl on Christmas Eve, Karamatsu thought to himself. He rolled around the image in his mind, chastely as he could manage, of Totoko Yowai perched on his shoulders. Totoko would be like a princess-knight of the high street, and Karamatsu her noble steed. Or better yet, perhaps she’d prefer a classic princess carry? Sweet Totoko would hold the memory dear to her forever. The ethereal, marine salinity of her perfume would cling to his collar for days. And oh, how he’d be the envy of his brothers!
But no, Karamatsu reminded himself, he mustn’t, he mustn’t! Not when his honor as a loyal friend rested on another promise.
“I’m so sorry, Totoko-chan, but I can’t help you this time,” said Karamatsu, shaking his head. “I’m afraid it would be impossible. ”
Totoko pouted. “Why? I’m not that heavy.”
“It’s not so much that, but…”
“So you’re calling me fat?” Totoko gasped. “Karamatsu-kun, you’re horrible!”
“No, no, not at all, Totoko-chan! You’re a winter angel, as always! It’s just--”
“So you’d rather I just slip on the ice and die, is that it?”
“No, no, of course not!”
Karamatsu tried his best to explain he had another appointment, but soon Totoko was inconsolable. The scene started to draw nasty looks from the passengers on the other side of the carriage. He had a promise to keep, sure, but was it worth making a girl cry? Karamatsu didn’t feel like a lovely cool guy at all. He looked deep in his heart: what would Santa do…?
---
Totoko teetered back and forth across the length of the train carriage. Graceful but a little uneasy on her feet, she reminded Karamatsu of a newborn reindeer taking its first steps across the icy tundra. Examining her reflection in the glass doors, she placed her hands on her hips and looked down.
“They’re a bit clunky on me,” said Totoko, examining the black leather boots. “But then again, I suppose that makes the rest of today’s co-ord look even cuter by contrast.”
“And safety first.” Karamatsu nodded. “They’re Santa-approved, so you won’t have to worry about slipping on the ice.”
Totoko giggled. “I suppose I’ll forgive you for not coming with me, then,” she said with a charming smile. “But don’t forget, you have to give mine back at the end of the day, and if you put so much as a scratch on them I’ll have your kneecaps.”
“Of course, Totoko-chan,” said Karamatsu reassuringly. The sparkly ballet flats were a bit uncomfortable, but only slightly out of step with his regular rotation of perfect fashion.
“And you have to give me a real Christmas gift, too! This doesn’t count.”
The train trundled into Shibuya terminal and the pair trundled out, saying a quick goodbye and Merry Christmas before going their separate ways: Totoko into the throng of well-heeled holiday shoppers crowding the snowy streets, and Karamatsu into the long row of overpasses that lead to the Yokohama-bound line.
Through the plate-glass windows lining the skyway above the scramble crossing, he caught sight of the crowds waiting around a familiar bronze figure in the snow below: loyal Hachiko, the dog who waited years for a human friend. Now that’s one cool dog, Karamatsu thought to himself.
Once he made the connection to the Yokohama-bound line, he sent another message on to Chibita.
See you soon, plus a smiley face with sunglasses.
The suburban sprawl of the Shonan line sped past in the train window, lumpy and misshapen under a blanket of snow. Karamatsu felt a peculiar emptiness in the pit of his soul, and he thought again of Hachiko. With a melancholy feeling in his heart, he wondered: would someone build a statue in his honor someday, to show what a loyal friend he was?
His phone buzzed. Chibita’s reply: k. There were no smilies.
Not at this rate, Karamatsu thought sadly, and sighed.
---
Karamatsu darted out of Yokohama Station and out onto the snowy street leading to the Red Brick district.
The ballet flats didn’t make running any easier, but Karamatsu pressed on as fast as he could through the snow, clinging to the metal fence along the side of the icy river for a little stability. He could see the looming grey clocktower in the middle distance: only 10 minutes ‘til noon. There was no time to lose.
But there was a tug at the back of his collar and soon he was spun around. A bright light shone in Karamatsu’s face, and he felt a tug at his lapels. Once his eyes adjusted, the face of a youngish man in a checkered director’s cap came into focus.
“Thank goodness you’re here!” said the man. “We were about to cancel the whole shoot! It’s -- oh, false alarm, got the wrong chap.”
He let go, and Karamatsu staggered backwards a step or two, still adjusting to the too-small shoes, before falling backwards into a snowdrift. He stood again, brushed the snow off the seat of his trousers, and looked around.
There was a small film crew gathered in a cordoned-off area of the European style paving-stone street. A mixed bag of teamsters with camera rigs and attractive young men and women in sugar-plum fairy costumes were all milling about an enormous gingerbread house, and a brilliantly decorated sleigh loaded with sacks of presents. It would have fit right into a Christmas fairytale if it weren’t for all the floodlights and boom mics.
The man who had accosted Karamatsu stepped out clapped. “Attention, please, everyone!” he called out through a small acoustic megaphone. “Seems like the actor playing Santa’s a no-show after all, so the shoot's off.”
Sad murmurs of disappointment echoed amongst the cast and crew. All the jolliness was gone from the scene.
“Christmas is ruined, ” wailed a busty blonde woman in a Mrs. Claus outfit, bursting into tears of sorrow.
Karamatsu felt for this poor crew, he really did. After all, he’d been something of a thespian himself in his younger days. He knew all the hard work and passion that went into something as simple as a Culture Day pageant, let alone a full-scale film shoot, and he knew how quickly it could all fall apart. He saw genuine pain in the director’s face, and felt for him, but there was nothing he could do. He had to make this appointment, Karamatsu reminded himself; Chibita was counting on him. He wished the director good luck and Merry Christmas.
“It’s just such a shame,” the director pinched at the space between his eyes. “It would have been the actor’s chance at stardom.”
Karamatsu stopped in his tracks.“It would…?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder. “What would have happened if, say, he had made it on time?”
“What wouldn’t have happened? This commercial would have been a surefire hit! He’d be on track for fame, fortune, and don’t even get me started on the residuals…!” the director sighed. “But now it’s all for naught.”
The director waved a hand to a row of teamsters, who raised their sledgehammers to the side of the massive gingerbread house.
“Unless we can find some camera-ready up-and-comer in a Santa costume hungry for his big break within the next five minute.” He sighed. “But what are the odds of that happening? Oh well... Tear it down, boys.”
It was more than Karamatsu’s heart could bear. He darted in front of the gingerbread house, sliding to a stop in the snowbank before the hammers could fall.
“Director, stop!” Karamatsu cut in desperately. “I can be your Santa!”
The small crowd gasped. The shock became murmurs, which became cheers. Of course! This mysterious stranger in the Santa outfit must have been sent by fate. It was the Christmas miracle they needed! Hooray for Santa!
“Christmas is saved, ” wailed the busty blonde woman in a Mrs. Claus outfit, bursting into tears of joy.
Karamatsu stood in the spotlight, soaking in the applause. All eyes were on him, and his bosom swelled with pride. Could this be it? The moment he’d been waiting for, when people finally saw in Karamatsu what he saw in himself? For the first time in his life, he felt as though he truly was where he was supposed to be: the right place at the right time. And yet…
“Excuse me! ” Karamatsu pleaded above the crowd, which quickly fell silent.
“Could you all wait here for just a minute? See, I’ve got a friend I’ve made an appointment with not half a block away, and I swear to you, he would make the most fantastic elf if you could just wait --“
“I’m afraid there’s no time,” the director shook his head. He walked up to Karamatsu and gripped the fluffy epaulets on his shoulders, looking into his eyes with desperation. “We have to begin the shoot right away. And for that, we need someone in a reasonable Santa costume or the whole project’s gone to waste.”
Karamatsu felt his heart torn in two pieces. This could be it, his big break! His lifelong dream was laid out on a platter before him! And Chibita would understand, wouldn’t he? After all, they were friends, weren’t they? Weren’t they? Weren’t they?
Karamatsu closed his eyes and looked deep into his soul. He made the hardest decision of his life. He sighed, made peace with the man he was, and turned to face the director.
“Look, could you make do with just the costume?”
---
Chibita sat on an upturned in the loading dock at the back of the Red Brick building, anxiously chewing at the blunt end of what used to be a miso-konjac skewer. From where he sat, he could see the green fir fronds and shiny golden baubles at the top of the Christmas tree peeking out over the roof. The sky was the color of static between channels on an old television.
Meanwhile the last of the other stall vendors were signing in and picking up their forms from the registration tent. The air was already wet with the sounds and smells of the marketeers setting up on the other side of the venue. Silent Night was playing over the intercom, and just it pissed him off. Hell, I got born in a dump too, he thought, and you don’t see anyone writin’ songs about me.
Chibita sighed. It was almost noon, Karamatsu was nowhere to be found, and Chibita was not even remotely surprised.
He stood up and stretched the winter chill out of his joints. It was time to cut his losses. Find another place to drag the cart for the day and hope for the best. He didn’t know Yokohama well. He wouldn’t know where would be a safe place to set up versus, where would get his legs broke for cornering someone else's territory. What the hell, he’d just have to hit the ground running, alone, like he always did.
“Fuckin’ Karamatsu,” he spat. He tossed the skewer into a snowdrift.
He was just about to head back to the cart and figure out a Plan B when a familiar voice called out to him: “Merry Christmas! ”
And there stood Karamatsu God-Damn Matsuno, in the snow, naked but for sun-glasses, boxer shorts and a pair of frou-frou girly shoes. He held his social services ID card held high above his head and catching the winter sunlight.
“...Eh? Karamatsu? Why the hell are you…” Chibita trailed off. “Dammit, do I even wanna know?”
It didn’t matter, Karamatsu insisted, teeth chattering as the snow eddied about his legs in the wind. He’d kept his promise, and that was what counts. He was here. For once, he blurted out, just this once, he didn’t screw up.
“I might have lost feeling in most of my limbs, but I won’t lose our soul-link bond,” Karamatsu cried, now shivering violently either from the cold or emotion or possibly both. “Not again!
Chibita scratched the back of his head. “Is that what all this is about?”
“Yes,” Karamatsu said and coughed. “Because it’s Christmas! And because I am the best friend in the universe! ”
Chibita didn’t know how to respond to that. He couldn’t help but burst out laughing. It was hard to stay mad at a guy in the early stages of hypothermia, least of all when they were so goddamn sincere about it.
“Ah, don’t worry about it! I wasn’t even that pissed off at ya,” Chibita tried to reassure Karamatsu once he had his breath back. “Hell, everyone screws up sometimes! Part of having friends, right? Least it always cracks me up when it’s you, kekeh!”
“You aren’t pissed off?” Karamatsu’s eyes sparkled with hope. "We are still friends?"
“I’m always pissed off about something,” Chibita said with a shrug. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like you! But c’mon man, let’s getcha some freakin’ blankets or something, already, yeesh... I’m freezing my balls off just looking at ya.”
Poor Karamatsu looked like he’d run a marathon, but he insisted on finishing the sign-ups first. Chibita picked up the clipboard full of forms and slightly forged health inspector certificates from the basket under the shop counter and gave them to Karamatsu.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on poor ol’ Kara-boy, Chibita thought, looking at the dainty shoe-prints he’d left in the snow on the way over to the desk. He’s a softie, and the world needs people like that, badly.
He pulled out a grey blanket and a spare hanten coat out from under the counter and smiled. Whatever the hell happened to Karamatsu on the way over, he wanted to hear all about it.
Karamatsu had just finished about finished signing in when Chibita approached and threw a blanket roughly over his frost-bitten shoulders.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Matsuno,” said the matronly woman at the registration desk. She stamped the approval forms and handed them back to Karamatsu, saying it all seemed to be in order. “Wowee zowee! Christmas oden! What a lovely idea. I’m sure it’ll be a hit next year.”
Karamatsu blanched. “Pardon?”
“This is the sign-up desk for next year’s market,” said the woman.
“The hell you say, lady?” Chibita stood up as high as he could reach and slammed his fists on the table. “We’re here for the one today!”
“Oh, no! But you saw what the crowd was like out there, didn’t you?" The woman laughed. "There’s a waiting list a mile long to even make it onto the shortlist. Sign-ups open 12 months in advance. But at least you’ll be in with a shot for next year! Oh, and Merry Christmas.”
Karamatsu looked at Chibita and said nothing as light snow began to fall once more.
Everyone screws up sometimes. It's part of having friends.