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Really, at this point, Koizumi shouldn't have expected anything else.
Actually, she shouldn't have expected anything, when she considered their track record. She and Otani had managed to have a Christmas go to plan only once, and it had been an accident. Why they even planned anymore, she had no idea. Possibly, it was all for appearances' sake.
This year, they'd planned on something fairly simple: meet at the park halfway between their houses, take the train to the cute, hole-in-the-wall restaurant that they'd found, and enjoy a nice, romantic dinner before renting a movie and cuddling on the couch.
Surprisingly, the meeting bit had gone off without a hitch, and they'd both even shown up on time! The train was running a bit late, but that was to be expected, what with the snow. Otani had been suitably adorable, which he had of course hidden behind unnecessary masculine posturing and one idiotic comment. They'd updated one another on school for most of the train ride, and told humorous anecdotes for the rest of the walk to the restaurant.
The restaurant was where things had started to go downhill. Neither Koizumi nor Otani had considered that, perhaps, the restaurant would be closed on Christmas day. It was a small, family-run place. In all likelihood, that family was off enjoying dinner themselves. No matter what the case may have been, the restaurant was firmly closed and locked.
"What now?" Koizumi asked, looking down at Otani.
Otani shrugged. "I guess we eat somewhere else?" he guessed.
"Somewhere close," Koizumi added, turning right in the hopes that there would be a restaurant of some kind in that direction.
"Sure," Otani agreed. "But not fast food."
"How about ramen?"
"Yakisoba?"
They stopped in front of what looked like an Indian restaurant, the first place they'd passed that appeared to serve food and to have remained open on Christmas.
"Indian?" Koizumi asked, pointing.
Otani shrugged again. "Sounds good to me."
An hour later, the Indian food revealed itself to have been a fairly horrible mistake. Between repeated trips to the bathroom and one cold trip to the corner market, neither Koizumi nor Otani could repeat, if asked, what the film they'd rented had been about, though they both recalled a rather strange scene with a duck and a donut.
By the twenty-seventh, both Koizumi and Otani had slept off their food poisoning, and were able to rationally, mutually decide that next Christmas, they were staying home.
"We could bake cookies," Koizumi suggested, slumping over onto Otani's shoulder.
Otani sighed, then said, "With our luck, something would catch on fire."
"Microwave ramen?"
"Deal."