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Yamato Hotsuin’s day began like any other.
He awoke at 6:00 sharp, in his king-size bed emblazoned with the JP’s insignia. He showered, prepared a light but nutritious breakfast picked according to his meticulous food schedule, and picked a crisp uniform from his walk-in closet filled with them. He descended from his room at the very top of JP’s headquarters with all the esteemed poise of an emperor, shoulders high and hands folded behind his back. His office, only several floors down, was perfectly tidy as always, and the stack of papers he’d laid out the night before awaited his handiwork. His job, as it turned out, often wasn’t all that glamorous during times of peace.
He sat down to begin the day’s work, but at the back of his mind, something tugged at him. There was something he was forgetting. He only dwelled on it for a short moment before pushing it from his mind. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be important.
An hour later, he got a call from Makoto requesting his presence at headquarters for an undisclosed purpose, so he set aside what paperwork remained and pulled himself to his feet, stretching. It wasn’t urgent, but neither was this, and Lord knew there wasn’t anything better he could be doing than combing through the red tape associated with holding the most important position in Japan. Not that he minded, but after the Septentrione incident, the return to routine was a bit hard to stomach at times. Relaxing, but still strange. There hadn’t been any demon incidents to report from the underground, and the cleanup effort was almost completely finished. Life was returning back to normal.
Perhaps his second warning, then, should have been that there didn’t seem to be a single soul in the entirety of JP’s headquarters. Nobody on post, nobody walking through halls, nobody even in the bathrooms. That was strange. Either he was being avoided (that wasn’t too uncommon), was missing them by pure coincidence, or he’d have to be making some cross phone calls and salary cuts.
Then he arrived at the main hall, and the gears in his mind began to turn.
Makoto was there, yes, but so was everybody else. Not just the rest of the JP’s staff, but Hibiki and the rest of his friends, too. While he would normally be happy to see them, having stayed on good terms with them following the Septentrione incident but not being able to see them as frequently as he’d have liked, something about this situation tugged at him in the wrong way. This wasn’t a friendly reunion. This was a group confrontation. Foreboding was the only word that could describe how it felt.
Nonetheless, he maintained his composure. “This is quite a surprise,” he said. “Sako, do you have any explanation for this?”
“Hello yourself, Yamato,” came Hibiki.
Yamato turned in his direction. “Hibiki. I trust you’ve been well?” Hibiki shrugged.
Makoto cleared her throat. “Chief Hotsuin. The others and I have been talking, and… well, we’ve… we’ve decided to make a request of you. This is a… somewhat awkward request to make, but everybody seems to be in favor of it. All we need is your approval.”
There was that feeling of foreboding again. “Well? Spit it out, then.”
“Well, we…” she flushed slightly. “We want to throw an official JP’s Christmas party.”
Yamato blanched.
Oh.
Oh no.
For the first time that day, he actually made the connection between the date, Decemeber 24th, and Christmas Eve. It wasn’t that he was completely unfamiliar with Christmas; far from it, actually. As the head of JP’s, he was well aware of holidays and cultural decisions, which is why he was in a better position than anyone to ignore them completely and judge others when they didn’t do the same. His first order of business, upon becoming Chief, was to make away with all official holidays (though not personal vacation days–he didn’t want to risk his employees unionizing). JP’s was a professional environment, he had explained, and there was no time to engage in the everyday traditions of the common folk–if they were to do their jobs, they needed to be above that.
His staff was prone to taking more vacation days around this time of year, that much was true, but he didn’t think much of it. He’d still call them in if he was understaffed and needed the extra hands. Somewhere along the way, Christmas had completely been forgotten.
Or, to put it more accurately, he hadn’t “forgotten” so much as willfully suppressed the memory.
The Christmas tree was on fire. What was left of the cake was splattered all over the walls. The stockings and presents were in tatters. Everyone was drunk on trying to push past one another. Yamato was nine years old, and he was screaming.
It had started so innocently. Yamato and his parents had gone to visit the Kuzunoha mansion to demonstrate some methods of demon summoning, which had been hosting a Christmas party at the time. They had gone on with the meeting as planned, Yamato encouraged to socialize, but something about these two things apparently did not mix and it wasn’t twenty minutes before all hell broke loose.
He stood outside of the building, which was completely aflame. Somewhere behind him, he heard a conversation about how they’d have to think up a convincing cover story about a gas explosion.
But Yamato knew. He would always know.
His father handed him a chakra pot. “Merry Christmas, Yamato.”
It was too late. The pot had no more chakra in it.
“No. Absolutely not.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Otome handing Fumi 500 yen.
“Wh–Just like that?!” Makoto looked somehow surprised by this. What did she expect? “Won’t you at least hear us out?”
“My decision is final. JP’s doesn’t celebrate holidays,” Yamato said, narrowing his eyes. “Our purpose is to protect the nation of Japan; any frivolities only obstruct this goal. Besides, it’s already the 24th. We would only have one day to decorate and invite everybody. Nobody in their right mind would hold an event on such short notice.”
“But, Chief…!”
“Actually, all of us are here right now,” came Fumi, sounding as dry as ever, “so it stands to reason that anybody who would be coming has already cleared their schedule. As for preparations, don’t tell me you doubt the strength of your own organization.” She smiled. Yamato didn’t like it when she smiled.
In any case, she did have a point, but–
“Personally, I think it sounds like a great idea.” That was Otome. “We haven’t all seen each other like this in months, after all. A Christmas party seems like an excellent way to spend some time together and catch up on our lives.”
“Y-Yeah, Otome’s right!” Daichi. “C'mon, Yamato, you know what Christmas is, right? Loosen up a little! It’ll be fun!”
“Of course I–”
“Believe me, I understand wanting to focus on protecting Japan.” Ronaldo. “But things are more peaceful than they’ve been in ages! And Christmas… it brings people joy like nothing else! What better way to celebrate the peace we’ve worked so hard for than to share in that joy?”
“Ronaldo, are you insane? That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Keita, who was smiling in spite of himself. “But all of you seem to like the idea, so whatever. I guess it could be fun.”
“Awh, don’t be a party pooper, Keita.” Hinako. “I’m all for it! I haven’t celebrated Christmas since I was a kid, after all!”
“Yeah! I could make chawanmushi for everyone!” Jungo, unsurprisingly.
“Chief, please.” Makoto again, looking more earnest than before. “Everybody wants this party. Even I could use the break, and I think you could too.”
“Yeah, seriously, lighten up a little!” That was Joe. Why was he even here. “We just saved the world together. We can afford to kick back and relax a bit.”
The clamor was too much. Yamato’s mind wasn’t swayed in the slightest, but everybody pleading him from all sides was starting to result in sensory overload, and he felt a migraine coming on. He couldn’t get a word in edgewise–why wouldn’t they understand?! There was no way he would ever allow–
Then, one voice was audible over the ruckus. “Yamato.” Hibiki looked up at him expectantly. “Please.”
The last straw fell, except it was hundreds of times heavier than the others, and the camel’s back wasn’t so much broken as it was utterly annihilated, not so much snapped as destroyed by a nuclear blast. He took one look into Hibiki’s eyes, bright and blue and shining with expectation and admiration. The camel was dead.
“Fine,” he said, grimacing and looking away. “If you all want your Christmas party so much, we’ll have your Christmas party.”
Everyone went silent for a moment, as if they were unable to believe he’d actually said yes. Well. He could scarcely believe it himself, so that was fair. Then the cheering started, and the profuse thanks. His migraine was coming back.
“Th-Thank you, Chief, sir!” Makoto looked oddly relieved. “We won’t let you down, we promise!”
“Wow, he actually said yes.” Fumi again. She was still smiling. Why was she smiling. “This is certainly going to be interesting.”
“Awww, yesss!!” Daichi. “This is going to be great! We’re going to have a big Christmas feast, and karaoke, and presents, and…”
In that moment, Yamato felt strongly that he would live to regret this decision.
“Hey, Hibiki, buddy. I have one teensy question.”
Hibiki turned to face Daichi. “What’s up?”
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”
He was referring, of course, to the oversized golden fountain several JP’s workers were lugging into the main hall. By the look of it, half of them looked about ready to collapse.
“Oh, that,” Hibiki said matter-of-factly. “That’s the eggnog fountain. Or, it will be, once Jungo and Keita arrive with the hundred liters of eggnog to fill it.”
Daichi shook his head. “No, no, that’s not what I–wait, a hundred liters of eggnog? Yamato isn’t expecting us to drink all that, is he?”
“Actually, I think he said that the fountain is off limits,” Io chimed in.
“Okay, that’s… weird. But no, I didn’t just mean the fountain. I meant the… the walk-in gingerbread houses! And the elaborate tinsel and light displays covering every square inch of headquarters! And the elf costumes everyone in JP’s is being forced to wear–seriously, what’s the point of that? What even is any of this?!” He spiked his own officially mandated santa hat to the ground.
“Having fun, Shijima?” came Yamato’s voice from behind him.
In that moment, Daichi’s life flashed before his eyes. He made a strangled noise somewhere between a scream and a squawk, spinning around and falling squarely on his backside. Yamato stood before him, arms crossed and expression unusally serious for somebody who was in the middle of planning and organizing a Christmas party.
“Y-Yamato! I, uh, didn’t see you there!” he managed.
Yamato, for his part, looked thoroughly unamused.
“Was this not your idea?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a harsh reminder. “This isn’t a common office party. This is JP’s, the most powerful organization in the nation. And as its chief, I will do absolutely everything in my power to ensure this Christmas party is the best one ever held. Every detail of the event has been planned down to the minutiae. Nothing will go wrong under my watch.” He glanced briefly to the side, and an expression of fear briefly flitted across his face, as if he were reliving some past trauma. “Nothing at all.”
“But–”
In one fluid motion, Yamato picked up the discarded santa hat and dropped it into a lopsided position upon Daichi’s head. “If you have nothing better to do than complain, I suggest you make yourself useful. I won’t have anybody here refusing to partake in the Christmas joy.”
Remarkably, the last sentence was said with a perfectly straight face–even Hibiki had to hold back a snort. With a beckoning gesture to the JP’s staff helping with the fountain, Yamato strode out of the room, and the rest of them followed suit. Only Hibiki, Daichi, and Io remained.
“‘Christmas joy?’ Yeah, sorry, really not feeling it,” Daichi moped. “I mean, even the freaking activities only have thirty minute timeslots! Who even does that?!”
“At least Yamato’s having fun,” Hibiki offered.
Daichi scoffed. “Yeah, having fun bossing everyone around, that’s for sure. Ugh… I was really hoping to have some fun with you guys! This is the worst Christmas ever!”
Io knelt beside him. “It’ll be okay, Daichi,” she said, straightening his santa hat. “I’m sure it’ll still be fun to see everyone again!”
He smiled at her. “Yeah… that’s true. Thanks, Io. I guess I can’t really be upset when you’re around.”
“Am I… interrupting anything?”
The three of them turned around in unison at the sound of the unexpected yet familiar voice. Alcor stood–or, rather, floated, in his usual manner–off towards the far corner of the room, and by this point everybody was accustomed enough to his habit of appearing mysteriously not to question it. He smiled serenely, carrying with him his usual ethereal aura, and Hibiki wondered if he’d been there the whole time or had only just arrived. That, and…
“Saiduq!” Daichi clambored to his feet. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Daichi Shijima. Io Nitta. Shining One.” He nodded once in Hibiki’s direction. “I noticed an abnormally large amount of activity occurring at JP’s headquarters, and left at once to ensure a crisis hadn’t arisen without my knowledge. I trust everything is well?”
“Oh… haha, don’t worry, there’s no crisis or anything.” Daichi smiled sheepishly. “Yamato’s throwing a Christmas party, and he’s gotten a bit, uh… carried away. Aside from that, everything’s great.”
Alcor looked confused. “A… Christmas party?”
“Don’t you know what Christmas is?” Hibiki asked.
“No, I’ve been watching humanity long enough that I’m aware of its longest standing traditions, Christmas being one.” He raised a hand to his chin. “But I don’t understand. Why would Yamato Hotsuin be holding a Christmas party?”
“Oh, it was our idea,” Io said. “We thought it would be a fun way to celebrate the peace and catch up with our friends.”
“Yeah, until Yamato got all psycho about it,” Daichi muttered.
Alcor frowned. “I sense everything is not well. Was Yamato Hotsuin not taken with the idea?”
“No, we got him to agree to the party,” Hibiki said. “It’s just…”
“He’s gone freaking insane!” Daichi cut in. “I mean, you know. Moreso than usual. But he immediately started bossing everybody around left and right! Keeps going on about throwing the ‘perfect Christmas party’ or whatever. Look! Just look at the eggnog fountain!” He gestured emphatically towards the fountain in question. “A hundred liters of eggnog! Nobody asked for this! All we wanted was to just kick back and have some fun together! Not… this!”
“Yeah, he’s really gone overboard on the planning,” Hibiki said. “As soon as he agreed to the party, he wrote an entire master schedule of tasks that needed to be assigned and performed, by when and by who. It ended up being over three meters long.”
Io shuffled her feet. “I’m glad to see everyone again, but it’s… hard to have fun like this.”
“I see. That truly is a shame. Christmas is supposed to be a day of merriment and cheer, is it not?” Alcor returned his hands to his sides. “Is there nothing I can do to help?”
Hibiki thought about that for a moment. “Well, we don’t have a tree yet,” he said. “Not sure how Yamato would take you helping, though. You might at least want to consult his master schedule.”
“That is true. He and I are still not on the best of terms, so perhaps it would be best he doesn’t know of my presence. After all, he deserves an enjoyable Christmas as much as any of you.” He smiled his serene smile once again. “I will do everything in my power to help make this day as joyous as possible.”
“What, really? Aw, thanks, Saiduq, buddy, you really don’t have to…” Daichi said.
“It’s no trouble at all. All I want this day is to see all of you smiling joyfully with Christmas spirit.”
It seemed that the moment he finished his sentence, he was gone. The three of them were left in utter silence, only to be broken a minute later by Hibiki.
“This can only go well.”
Being tasked with the lights came with its pros and cons.
On the one hand, Yamato had done all the design planning ahead of time, so all Fumi had to do was set that up. Better that than be one of the people in charge of handling the eggnog fountain. The problem was something she had suspected when she’d taken on the job, and that was that there was a very good reason Yamato had specifically tasked her and her alone with the lights rather than entrusting them to grunt work. That is, the design in question was so unreasonably complex that aside from possibly Yamato himself, Fumi was the only one capable of engineering it. Even then, it had taken her a solid twenty minutes of squinting before she even knew where to start, and another five to solidly decide between Yamato’s master plan and her own idea of instead engineering an elaborate lights display of the esteemed Chief of JP’s getting kicked in the rear by a donkey. Sadly, there would be a mountain of paperwork involved once he caught on, so that plan was shelved. For now.
Still, that didn’t mean following the actual plan would be any less troublesome.
“Rrgh, come ON, you stupid–” Fumi grumbled, combing and plucking and pulling furiously at a particularly nasty gnarl of lights and wire.
Yamato was as intelligent and gifted at strategy–better than Fumi herself, in all honesty, whose brilliance often lacked practical application–as he was well-meaning, at least as far as party set-up was concerned. In all her years at JP’s, Fumi had come to trust as much, possibly even with her life, if it came down to it. All that being said and done, Yamato Hotsuin was still a teenager, and for all his brilliance lacked basic life experience. Normally, that was where people like her and Makoto would pick up the slack. But apparently, one of the most basic nuggets of common wisdom he had overlooked somewhere along the line was that you do not, under any circumstances, store Christmas lights without somehow securing them, lest they transform from anything resembling wiring to an unholy cross between a tumbleweed and some sort of Eldritchian horror creature, and with the stick perpetually wedged between Yamato’s asscheeks twisted tighter than usual today, there was no room for anybody picking up anything. Except maybe Fumi picking up one of the boxes he had piled on her and throwing it against the wall, which was honestly very tempting.
One of the lights fell off. Fumi swore violently under her breath and kicked the bundle across the room.
“Ah–”
…and apparently straight into Alcor’s face.
Fumi blinked, and looked up. She hadn’t realized she had company. How long had he even been–on second thought, with him, it was probably better not to ask.
“Saiduq,” she said, and stood up straight. “What brings you here?”
“Salutations, Fumi Kanno,” he said in his mildly aggravating wispy, soft-spoken voice. “I’ve come to help prepare for the Christmas party.”
It took Fumi a moment to register the situation–there was just something undescribably surreal about the entire ordeal. It was odd enough that JP’s was even throwing a Christmas party, but for the mysterious, ethereal alien… thing who had played a pivotal role in preventing the apocalypse to offer to help. She would laugh, were she in the mood.
“Help, hmmm…” she said, then lightly raised an eyebrow. “Yamato wouldn’t happen to know anything about your involvement, would he?”
“No, I don’t think he would approve of my assistance.” Of course he wouldn’t.
Fumi smiled. This could be interesting. “Whatever. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Well, if you really want to help…” she glanced around, trying to think of something he could help with. “I’m the one in charge of the lights, but Yamato’s instructions are so complicated that I don’t know if even you could help me there. Unless…”
Alcor perked up slightly. It was almost adorable–he really was eager to help, wasn’t he? “Yes?”
She crossed her arms. “You see, the lights setup Yamato has in mind is… complicated. Really, really complicated. Over a million individual lights changing color and moving around. It’s going to be a nightmare.”
“I see,” he said. “So you require help placing the lights?”
“Not exactly,” she replied. “I can manage that. Barely, but if I have demons do the grunt work it won’t be too much hassle. Trouble is, that many lights requires a lot of power. More than I think Yamato realized when he handed me his plans and said ‘make it work, Fumi.’” She grumbled. “Anyway, is there anything you can do about that?”
Alcor thought about that for a moment. “There… might be something. How much exactly do you require?”
“Whatever you can get.” Fumi smiled. Alcor didn’t know Fumi well enough to know that this was less endearing than it was suspicious. “Just connect it to the JP’s power room, and let me know when it’s all set to go.”
“Very well.” He paused. “Is there anything else you require?”
Fumi cast a glance to the tangled mass of lights and wires. “Actually, now that you mention it, yes. Could you–”
Before she could finish her sentence, Alcor snapped his fingers. Like magic, the lights unfurled into one thin string. Incredulously, Fumi ran her fingers through it, and for the first time in her life she questioned her atheism. Maybe there was more to life than a meaningless, chaotic series of coincidences.
“Huh.” Being a geometric cube alien whose dimensions shouldn’t be able to exist in reality came with perks, it seemed. She smiled again, more impressed than mischievous. “Not bad. Why are you so keen on helping, anyway?”
“Oh, there’s no reason in particular,” he said. “All I want is for all of you to have the best Christmas possible.”
Fumi chuckled. “Well, I guess that doesn’t sound too–”
When she looked up, he was gone.
Otome, meanwhile, was having considerably better luck.
Everyone had their own reasons for endorsing the Christmas party–Daichi to have fun, Makoto for the childhood nostalgia, Fumi… probably just to watch the world burn–and Otome’s was certainly among the most in spirit with the meaning of the holiday. So, when she was tasked with the cooking and Jungo volunteered to help, she didn’t see it as a chore. Not that she was much of a cook, having only started taking lessons recently for Koharu’s sake, but with the recipes Yamato had set aside and Jungo’s guidance, it ended up going better than expected. In fact, it was surprisingly fun.
It was a lot of work though, and on such short notice. With the actual party less than twelve hours away, it was hard to imagine how the tall orders Yamato had put out could possibly be filled.
She frowned at the dough she was kneading. Yamato’s planning was meticulous and thorough, as always, but he didn’t really know all that much about cooking. Even with at least a third of JP’s in the kitchens, there was only so much they could do, and cooking took time. When in doubt, they trusted Yamato, and the numbers added up, but it would be a tight schedule. They wouldn’t even have time to sleep–or, if they did, they’d have to take shifts. It really drained the fun out of it, when she thought about it.
She paused, took a deep breath, and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. “Jungo, is everything going well?” she asked.
“Just fine,” he replied. “Do you have any more cakes for me to decorate?”
“Not yet,” she said. “The next one will be done baking soon. Could you bring me that tray of cookies in the meantime?”
Jungo nodded. “Sure, no problem.”
It was right at that moment, Jungo carrying the tray over to the other side of the kitchen, that Alcor decided to appear. Otome started; Jungo dropped the entire tray, spilling cookie dough all over the kitchen floor.
“No…!”
“Oh my goodness, I–” she began, clutching her chest, then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. You caught me off guard there. Jungo, too.” She cast a sympathetic glance at Jungo, who was staring at the floor utterly crushed.
Alcor tilted his head. “Have I caused you any trouble?”
Otome put on her best smile. “Don’t worry, Saiduq. You’re fine. What brings you here?”
“I was told that the Christmas dinner was being prepared in the JP’s kitchens. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help.”
Well, wasn’t that ironic.
“Oh. Um.” Otome glanced to the side, then back to Jungo, who had fallen to the ground. “Well, Jungo just dropped a tray of cookies we were about to put in the oven. I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you helped with that.”
Alcor turned around, and noticed Jungo for the first time since he’d arrived. “Oh, I’m truly sorry to hear that.” He knelt down, then paused. “Was it… my arrival that…?”
Otome’s silence was all the answer he needed.
He looked down. “I am… truly sorry to have inconvenienced you.”
“No, no, it’s okay!” Jungo spoke for the first time since Alcor’s arrival, but his smile was clearly forced. “We can make a new batch!”
“Now that you’re here, we’ll have an extra set of hands, so we’ll be able to finish in no time.” She, too, smiled.
Alcor didn’t seem to be particularly cheered up by their attempts. He paused momentarily, deep in thought, then spoke. “What is there that still needs to be prepared?”
Otome chuckled nervously. “Well, we’ve been cooking for about five hours so far, so we’ve made progress, but…” she sighed. “We’ve crossed off less than half a quarter of Yamato’s list. The cake isn’t finished, we’ve barely started on the cookies, the pudding hasn’t been started…” she perked up slightly. “But, with you here, I’m sure we’ll manage to finish everything in time.”
“I see…” After another moment of silence, Alcor wandered over to the list in question, pinned on the wall. He studied it, face expressionless, for several minutes before turning back to Otome. “I believe I may have a solution.”
“What do you–”
Before she could finish, he snapped his fingers, and in the blink of an eye the kitchen was filled with a vast array of fanciful food dishes. A cake at least three feet high, at least ten varieties of pastas and salads and other such dishes, all masterfully color-coordinated, a massive pile of cookies that somehow smelled fresh-baked despite having never seen the inside of an oven, tarts and puddings filling the spaces between. It was certainly a feast that would live up to Yamato’s standards.
Otome and Jungo stared, in stunned silence, which was finally broken by Alcor. “Is it… not sufficient?” he said, sounding almost worried.
“No! No, um, I mean…” Jungo struggled to find the words. “It’s… it’s amazing!”
Otome cleared her throat. “You’ve… certainly outdone yourself. But, how did you…?”
“Oh, it’s not particularly complicated. I was able to manipulate the structure of the dishes on a molecular level using my powers as a Septentrione to produce the desired meal. I understand that it’s not exactly conventional, but the taste and nutritional content should be perfectly alright. I do hope it satisfies.”
All things considered, that really wasn’t very surprising.
Working with JP’s was strange enough in and of itself. If he’d been asked a year ago, Ronaldo would have scoffed at the very notion of answering to Yamato Hotsuin in any capacity. Working with JP’s to organize a Christmas party, now, that was surreal enough to outclass the existence of demons and the Septentrione invasion or anything that had happened since by a magnitude of ten.
Yet, here he was, list in hand and Joe at his side for lack of anything better to assign him to, purchasing gifts for every single person in JP’s to be handed out underneath a gigantic Christmas tree–save for Yamato himself, of course. Life was funny like that, sometimes.
And, if nothing else, it was useful to have Joe around just to help carry the boxes.
“Okaaaay, so, is that everything?” he asked, setting down his box in the back of the van Yamato had lent them. “I think that’s the entire gift list… man, Yamato has weird taste in gifts. Are you sure we have the cash for all this?”
With a grunt, Ronaldo hauled several large boxes into the back. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, then turned to Joe. “Yamato said he’s going to cover all the expenses,” he said. “So long as we stick to the list, we won’t have to worry.”
“Right, right, I get you, but…” he cast a glance to the side. “Even JP’s doesn’t have an unlimited bank account. Between this, the decorations, the food… but hey, Yamato’s the one in charge of this stuff. I guess he knows what’s best.”
Trusting in Yamato? That was definitely strange. Still, past grievances aside, he was undeniably a competent man. Few others could likely manage an organization like JP’s at the age of only seventeen. Fewer still could probably pull off a Christmas party on this scale. Truth be told, Ronaldo did have his doubts that Yamato himself fell into this category. It all seemed so… overly extravagant.
But as long as everyone else was happy with it, that was all that really mattered.
Right on cue, Ronaldo heard a soft voice behind him. “Hello. I’ve come to help with the Christmas party.”
If he hadn’t set down the boxes a moment earlier, he would have been in serious danger of dropping them on his toe. That would not have been pleasant.
“Oh hey, Angy!” Joe, apparently, was completely unpeturbed by Alcor’s sudden appearance. “How’ve you been?”
“Quite well, thank you.” He looked up. “Is there any way I can assist the two of you?”
“Uh…” Ronaldo, still rattled, looked at the back of the van, then back to Alcor, then to Joe, who wore his usual goofy smile. “Well, if want to help, we’re loading supplies and decorations to transport back to JP’s. Feel free to pitch in.”
He did. If working with Yamato to throw a Christmas party for all their friends was surreal, then working with Alcor was doubly so. It wasn’t that he’d ever held any real ill will towards him, apart from the initial mistrust only because of what he was, but he was nonetheless a supernatural, very nonhuman entity. It would be easy to forget that, working side-by-side with him on a task as mundane as loading boxes into a van, if not for his tendency to substitute walking for floating and the awkward, stilted way he carried the boxes and other objects, the occasional questions he asked about things that Ronaldo took for granted. Still, he wasn’t one to turn down the help, especially from one who had proven himself time and time again to be a valuable ally.
He considered that. Yamato had never quite come to see eye-to-eye with him, even after his role in warding off the Septentriones. So, then…
“So, Saiduq,” he said, setting down one of the last few boxes. “I’ve been wondering. Yamato didn’t ask you to help, did he?”
Alcor paused, but didn’t look up as he spoke. “No, he didn’t,” he replied. “I… do not think he would take kindly to my aid. However, when I spoke to the Shining One and his friends, they were very low in spirits. My only wish is for all of you to have the best Christmas possible.”
“That seems respectable,” Ronaldo said, looking up. “Yamato’s been working us pretty hard today–it’s hard to get much of a breather in. But, you’ve been a great help. Thanks to you, this Christmas might be something worth remembering, after all.”
“You… truly mean that?” Alcor gingerly placed a hand to his chest, and cast his gaze downward. “Thank you. For this Christmas to be memorable is my sincerest wish.”
If he were anyone else, Ronaldo would have probably ruffled his hair. Tempting as it was, especially given how fluffy it looked, that would be weird. Ruffling a star alien’s hair would be weird. So, instead, he gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. Now, let’s see if we can finish loading this truck before Joe gets back with the next load.”
A pause. Then, Alcor spoke again. “I am sorry. I didn’t realize that efficiency was the goal, rather than the process of loading.” He extended a hand, and the remaining boxes, all two of them, levitated, floated to the side, and settled snugly into the back of the van.
Ronaldo blinked. That… probably shouldn’t have been as unexpected as it was. Maybe he should have thought to ask if Alcor knew of any ways to load a van more efficient than picking up and placing each box individually. That certainly would have gotten the job done faster, if nothing else. And his back wouldn’t be aching, but that was nothing he couldn’t handle.
“Well, that’s… definitely more efficient,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “Good job, Saiduq.”
“If I may ask,” Alcor began, “what exactly is in the boxes?”
“Oh, that.” Ronaldo looked up. “For the most part, Joe and I have been gathering supplies for the party setup, but we were also put in charge of buying everyone’s Christmas presents. That’s what we’re doing right now.”
“…Christmas presents?” he said, frowning.
“Don’t you know? On Christmas, it’s tradition to give people presents to express your appreciation.”
“No, I’m well aware of most Christmas traditions, and how it is most commonly celebrated in modern times.” Alcor paused. “But it seems that I’ve become so caught up in preparing for the party that I forgot to get presents for you all.”
Right. That. In all honesty, he really wasn’t obligated, but with how downcast he looked… Ronaldo patted him on the back, which seemed to jolt him. “You don’t need to worry about that. Yamato has it all taken care of. Besides, I think all the help you’ve been giving everyone has been a present enough.”
He didn’t seem much cheered up. “Thank you, Ronaldo Kuriki. However…” he said, and looked away. “I still feel that it is something I should do.”
Ronaldo regarded him seriously. For reasons he didn’t fully understand, Alcor was dead set on ensuring that this Christmas would be the best one possible. While he shared his desire to spread the holiday cheer, it was still a lighthearted matter. Alcor, on the other hand, for better or worse, seemed to take it all too seriously.
“Well, I’m not going to tell you what to do,” he began, “but whatever you decide, I’ll help you out in any way I can. It’s the least I can do.”
Alcor smiled. “Your enthusiasm and Christmas spirit are appreciated, Ronaldo Kuriki. Thank you.”
He laughed sheepishly. “I’m just doing my best.”
In the ten hours it had been since Yamato had put her to work, Makoto couldn’t recall having once had a chance to so much as sit down.
She wasn’t given so much a singular task, as most of the other JP’s employees were, so much as she was told to fill in all the small jobs Yamato couldn’t think to assign to anyone else, as well as go around making sure everyone else was doing their jobs correctly and report back to him. So, essentially, his job except with less authority and more running around. It was an honor to help, but she hadn’t worked this hard since the literal apocalypse. At least Yamato had somehow agreed to the party at all, she reasoned–it would all be worth it, in the end.
There was progress being made, though. It had been slow, but JP’s was looking more festive than ever, adorned from floor to ceiling in tinsel and lights that flashed between all sorts of colors and patterns. Truth be told, it was a lot to take in, but Yamato had managed to outdo himself and go one step beyond, as always. It was nice, seeing the finished–or at least, nearly finished; the party was still several hours away, and there were a few finishing touches that had to be made–product of all their effort.
It took her a moment to realize that she wasn’t getting anything done, apart from pacing awkwardly in the hallway for the last ten minutes, reminiscing about the Christmases she’d had in her youth. Thinking about how much she was looking forward to sitting down and being able to enjoy her first in years, with all her friends. She exhaled, and massaged the bridge of her nose. Maybe she just needed another cup of coffee.
Actually, there was one problem–a rather discouraging one, at that. The centerpiece of any Christmas party was, of course, the tree. Yamato being Yamato, he had demanded that only the largest, highest quality of trees would do. Normally this would be well within the power of JP’s to obtain, but there was one force even Yamato couldn’t overcome, at least not on such short notice, and that was the cruel hand of capitalism. Everybody else had already purchased their trees days if not weeks before, and nobody in their right mind would try to get their hands on one now. Worst of all, the more time went on, the more stores were closing. There were still tress available, of course, but Makoto had dispatched agents all over Tokyo, Osaka, and Nagoya, and not one tree quite measured up to Yamato’s standards. Worst case scenario, they could just go with a smaller one–better than nothing, but very out of place in the ostentatiously decorated headquarters.
Fortunately, decorating the tree was saved for last on Yamato’s schedule. Apparently it was something he wanted done only after everybody else had finished their other jobs, so she still had an hour or two to get one. Which she definitely could do, but Yamato was the kind of person who had no qualms about chewing the ears off anyone who disappointed him in any way. Being in that position, and on Christmas of all days, was not something Makoto was particularly looking forward to.
Still. Better that than a disdainful glare and a condescending “where’s the tree, Sako, I was counting on you and you let us all down.” She sighed, and pulled out her phone to call the Osaka branch–the white tree they found might have to do.
“Hello, if you’re hearing this, your number is authorized and you’ve reached the JP’s Osaka branch. How may I help you?” came the voice of the poor overworked intern who had been so excited to get a job at JP’s only to be saddled down with all the desk work and red tape nobody else wanted to do. Tragic, really.
“It’s Makoto Sako,” she said. “I need you to put me on the line with Hinako Kujou.”
“One moment, please.”
It was times like these that Makoto was thankful JP’s was covert and small enough that she didn’t have to deal with being put on hold for hours at a time whenever she tried to place work-related calls. Less than a minute later, she heard Hinako’s voice on the other line.
“Hey, Makoto!” she said. “Any luck finding a tree?”
Makoto sighed. “It’s the opposite, I’m afraid. I’ll need you to get the white tree you sent pictures of, else we might not have one at all.”
“Really? That one?” She could practically hear Hinako’s quizzical stare over the line. “I mean, it’s something, but I doubt it’s the sort of thing Yamato has in mind…”
“I know, but he’d take that over no tree at all. I’m sure he’ll understand.” Half-true–he would probably understand, but he wouldn’t sympathize, and even if he didn’t blame their incompetence he wouldn’t be happy about a single flaw in his perfect party. “Anyway, I’ll need you to… to…”
She trailed off. Hard not to lose your train of thought, when a white-haired alien suddenly materializes in front of you.
“Uh, I’ll call you back.”
She hung up, and placed her phone back in her pocket.
“Salutations, Makoto Sako,” said Alcor. “I’ve come to assist you with the preparations for the Christmas party.”
“Well, that… answers my first question,” she said, casting a side glance. “I could definitely use the extra hand. But, why are you… what are you…”
He frowned. “I’m sorry. Did I startle or interrupt you in any way?”
“…Just a little bit, but don’t worry.” Makoto regained her composure, after the initial shock passed. “Well, you’re more than welcome to help. I’m actually mostly done here, except…”
“Yes?”
“…We can’t find a tree.” She sighed. “I was just calling the Osaka branch to see if they could bring in a last minute backup. With the party only hours away, it doesn’t look like we’ll have much luck.”
“A tree?” Alcor tilted his head. “I don’t understand. Should there not be trees available in most stores this time of year?”
“That’s… not exactly wrong,” she began, “but Chief Hotsuin wants a really big one. Too big for most ordinary stores to carry. Short of defacing a national forest, it doesn’t seem like there’s any way to make that happen at this point. Heh, he really is taking this seriously, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that,” he said, lightly stroking his chin. “Yamato Hotsuin never did understand the true meaning of Christmas.”
That was… one way of putting it, sure. “Well, if you have any ideas, I’m all ears.”
“Hmm.” He considered that. “What sort of tree do you believe Yamato Hotsuin desires?”
“Do you have something in mind?”
“I may.” A brief silence. “If he is not opposed to the idea, perhaps we could enlist the help of the sacred tree, Yggdrasil.”
Makoto sputtered. “You mean… summon a demon? Isn’t that a bit risky?” Surely a tree god wouldn’t take too kindly to being decorated, for one.
“There is no need to worry. So long as I am present, any demons will be placated,” he said. “If a grand Christmas tree is what Yamato Hotsuin desires, then I can think of none grander.”
“That’s… true, but…”
Truth be told, it was convincing. Yamato had never gone into specifics about what kind of tree he wanted, beyond “the best tree you can possibly find–a real one, not a synthetic.” Yggdrasil certainly fit the bill. And, after enough complaining from Fumi, he had allowed the use of demons to help aid the party setup, so long as they were kept strictly in control. It wasn’t as if there were really any other options, either.
Still…
“Summoning a demon as a Christmas tree?” she said at last. “That seems a bit disrespectful, if nothing else. I’m not so sure about this.”
“I understand your apprehension,” he said. “However, demons are nothing if not the tools of man, are they not? If a perfect Christmas is what you desire, then their power should be a means to that end.”
She sighed. “I suppose you’re right. But I’ll have to think about this some more. In the meantime, I’d better check up on–”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. “Hold that thought.”
“Hey, Makoto?” came Hinako’s voice. “Yeah, hi, thought I should let you know, we can’t get the white tree. The store closed an hour ago, and the gruff-looking guy behind the counter chased me out when I tried to make a purchase anyway. So… yeah, hope you have another idea, or else Yamato’s gonna be totally pissed.”
She lowered the phone. “Saiduq?”
“Yes, Makoto Sako?”
“Summon the tree.”
Fifteen minutes until the party.
Uncharacteristically, Daichi was checking his watch every ten seconds, and pacing anxiously outside JP’s headquarters. An hour and a half before the party began, Yamato had unceremoniously kicked everyone, including the highest ranking JP’s staff, out of the building in order to finish the setup by himself. He didn’t quite specify why, but it was easy enough to guess that he wanted everyone to be amazed at the fruits of his labor at once. In theory, it would be more climactic that way, or something.
In practice, his mechanations had left all the guests standing outside, in below freezing temperatures, for the past hour and fifteen minutes. Some of them had had the sense to leave and come back later; Hinako, notably, had lasted about ten minutes before muttering an illegible string of swears under her breath and coming back a half hour later actually wearing clothes, for once. Of all the sights that holiday season, that might have been the most unusual. For everyone that had stayed behind to tough it out, Otome had eventually summoned Ukobach to stave off wintery death. It was better than nothing.
After about five minutes of anxious pacing, Daichi groaned, and flopped over onto his backside. “Seriously, how much longer is Yamato going to take?!”
“You’re the one with the watch, Daichi–you tell me!” snapped Hinako. “Grghh, I’m still freezing here!”
“Man, the party had better be great to make up for this,” he moped. “Do you think Yamato likes karaoke? I brought a boombox and some tracks and everything.” He lovingly stroked the item in question, knees tucked into his chest.
“Are you insane?” Keita piped up. “Here we have the guy whose idea of a fun Christmas party is making everyone work like dogs for hours on end, and who kicks everyone out into the cold just to make a grand entrance. Yeah, I’m sure he’ll bedying to break out into song and dance.”
“Hey, who knows?” said Joe. “Maybe all he needs is a little spark to awaken his inner diva.”
“Aw, come on, now you’re just making fun of me,” said Daichi. He groaned. “I guess you’re right, though. Why would the party be any better? This is the worst Christmas ever.”
“Now, now, everyone,” came Otome’s voice. “The party hasn’t started yet, and there’s no room for pessimism on Christmas. I’m sure all of us can manage to have a good time if we put our heads to it. We just need to feel the holiday spirit!”
“Yeah, and if Yamato doesn’t decide to crush any last ounce of fun we can muster,” he muttered. To be fair, it was a legitimate concern.
“Fa la la la la, la la la la,” offered Hibiki. Somehow, it didn’t seem that Daichi was feeling the holiday spirit.
As if a Christmas spirit were summoned by Hibiki’s soulful carol, Alcor materialized at just that moment. Everybody jumped back, startled, except for Daichi, who just fell over.
“Dude!” he yelped. “It doesn’t matter how many times you do that, it will NOT stop being freaky!”
“Ah. I’m sorry,” Alcor said. “In the future, I will say, ‘I am about to appear,’ before appearing.”
“That’s… not exactly what I–you know what, whatever.” Daichi pulled himself to his feet. “What are you doing here, Saiduq? We’re all done preparing for the party. Just have to wait for Yamato to let us in.”
“Yes, I am well aware,” he said. “I’ve been watching the preparations ever since we first spoke. However, I wanted to ensure one last time that all of you were well, and that the party would begin smoothly. Then, I will leave you to the festivities.”
“Huh?” said Io. “Why are you leaving?”
“Yeah,” chimed in Daichi. “Nobody wants you to leave, Saiduq! Well, aside from Yamato, maybe, but–”
“Daichi!” Hinako snapped. “Not helping!” She turned to Alcor. “I mean, if you want to stay for the party, you’re more than welcome!”
Alcor looked confused. “You… want me to stay for the party?”
“Sure, why not?” said Joe. “The more, the merrier! Once we tell Yamato how much you’ve helped out, I’m sure he won’t mind that much.”
“You’re our friend, Saiduq,” said Otome. “And you’ve helped us all so much today. We’d love to have you with us.”
“Everyone…” Alcor gazed at the ground, but a smile seemed to be forming on his face. “I–”
“I’m back! I made chawanmushi for everyone!”
Everyone turned at the sound of Jungo’s voice. He’d left not long after Hinako, having been so caught up in preparing for the party that he’d completely forgot his initial plan of making chawanmushi for everyone. Airi, who was now at his heels helping to carry it all, had gone with him on the grounds that “if Hina isn’t going to tough out the cold, why should I?”
“Hey, welcome back!” said Joe. “Man, that smells good.”
“No eating until the party,” said Airi. She looked up. “Oh… hi, Saiduq.”
“Oh! Saiduq’s here!” Jungo perked up, and fished through the box he was carrying for a moment. “I was hoping you’d come, so I made an extra one for you.” He handed it to him. “Here you go.”
“Ah… thank you,” said Alcor, taking it gingerly.
He seemed unsure what to do with it. Was he even capable of eating? The question weighed heavily on everyone’s minds, only to unfortunately go unanswered when Airi snatched it from him.
“Hey! I told you!” She gritted her teeth, though more from the cold, despite her efforts to look tough. “No eating until the party!”
Jungo looked down. “You’re right… sorry, Airi.”
“So, is Saiduq gonna be coming to the party, too?” she asked, completely changing the subject. “Or is he just here to help out?”
Alcor paused momentarily. Then, he spoke. “I… I believe I’ll stay. Thank you, everyone.”
Right at that moment, the door to JP’s headquarters swung open, and Yamato appeared from the other side, wearing a very strangely ornate santa hat that looked about as out of place on his head as it would in the middle of a black and white photograph showcasing the horrors of war or urban poverty in the late 19th century. His serious, if more proud than usual, expression didn’t exactly help.
“It’s time,” he said. It was music upon everyone’s ears. “Everyone, come insi–”
He cut himself off, at the sight of Alcor. His expression turned from proud, to momentarily stunned, to the serious sort of unamused that nobody ever wanted to see on Yamato Hotsuin’s face, because it more often than not meant that they were about to get killed, or worse, chewed out.
Yamato lowered his voice to a somewhat menacing tone. “What is he doing here?” The question seemed more directed at Hibiki, than anyone.
“We invited him to the party,” Hibiki said.
“You… invited him?” he asked, though he didn’t sound particularly confused. “Did it not cross your mind to first ask if he was welcome?”
Makoto cleared her throat. “Chief, he’s been helping us all day,” she said. “I think it would only be fair if he were allowed to attend the party, too.”
“Yeah, c'mon, let him come,” said Fumi. “I would never have gotten the lights done if not for him.”
“Or the cooking!” added Otome.
“He helped me and Joe out with the presents, too!” Ronaldo chimed in. “Come on, Yamato. Christmas is the day where we open our heart to others, not shut them out!”
Yamato blinked. It was a long, slow blink–the sort of blink that spoke more of a deep and profound exasperation than there being anything in his eye. When he opened his eyes, Alcor was still there, and nobody looked any less earnest to keep him there. He exhaled, clenching and unclenching his fist.
“Alcor.” He addressed him directly. “Why did you decide to come?”
Alcor hadn’t spoken once since Yamato showed up, and he seemed slightly caught off-guard. “I… only wanted to help everyone,” he said. “Ronaldo Kuriki is right. Christmas is a day to open your heart to others. That was my only desire.”
Yamato paused again, staring intensely at Alcor, then at Hibiki, then Makoto, then back to Alcor again. After a long, painful moment, he sighed.
“Fine,” he said, a touch hostile regardless. “He can join us. But I’ll be watching him. And if he tries anything funny, no amount of Christmas joy will help him.” He turned and disappeared into the JP’s building, coat billowing dramatically behind him.
“…Well, I guess that’s our cue to go in,” said Ronaldo.
“Finally!” Daichi grabbed the boombox, and scrambled inside clumsily, like a starving man might an all-you-can-eat buffet. “Man, another moment out there, and I would have freezed my a–”
“Hold it, Shijima.” Yamato blocked his entry with a sharp hand to his chest, evoking a soft “eek.” He studied him closely, then uncurled his fingers around the handle of the boombox and held it. “What is this?”
“Oh. Um. That.” Daichi laughed nervously. “I… thought maybe after all the stuff you planned was over, we could, uh… do some karaoke?”
Yamato raised an eyebrow. “No.”
“Aw.” Daichi slumped his shoulder, and walked inside dejected.
To Yamato’s credit, he had spent the last hour and a half actually doing something, and that something was putting all the pieces together. The main hall of JP’s had been well-decorated before, and it was certainly presentable, but this was something else. Elaborately embroidered carpets were laid out, all shades of red and green. The walls were decorated with a vast array of lights strung in all sorts of designs ranging from snowflakes, to holly, to stars, to what from a distance looked like a TV monitor flashing between various designs. Fumi smiled smugly at the sight of that one. Instrumental Christmas music played from a MP3 player Yamato had strategically hidden somewhere, offset by the soft rippling of the eggnog fountain. Several tables were lined against the walls, stacked with food that looked as beautiful as it did delicious. In the center of it all was, of course, the tree, which easily reached the ceiling and was decorated in all sorts of ornaments and garlands, topped with a star that seemed to be made of solid gold. As beautiful as the tree was, Yamato did keep casting suspicious glances towards it from the corner of his eye.
“Wow…” Io murmured, taking a moment to let it all sink in.
“I take it you’re impressed,” Yamato said, a hint of pride in his voice.
“You’ve definitely outdone yourself, Yamato,” said Joe. “This is actually pretty cool. Congrats!”
“So, what now?” said Daichi. “Do we start eating, or…”
“Patience, Shijima.” Yamato said, smiling. “I’ve planned out each and every one of the evening’s activities.” He procured a clipboard from the inside of his jacket. “Daichi, I’ve taken your suggestions into account, and to liven up the party, I’ve arranged some fun games for us to play.”
Daichi perked up. “Really? Like what?”
Yamato cleared his throat. “For the first thirty minutes, we’ll be filling out some Christmas-themed coloring books I took the liberty of buying. Whoever finishes coloring theirs first wins. Each finished book will be judged by a committee comprised of myself, Sako, and Hibiki. Next, we’ll spend the next thirty minutes playing 'pin the nose on the reindeer.’ After that, we’ll unwrap the presents, and the next hour will be devoted to dinner. Once that’s done, we’ll resume our activities, and spend the next thirty minutes decorating wreaths. Finally, to conclude the festivities, we’ll be performing Christmas music, which I’ve printed out the sheet music for. Anybody who breaks key is out, and the last one standing will be crowned winner of Christmas.” He lowered his clipboard. “Any questions?”
Daichi’s face turned from a smile to a grimace in what was probably record time. Hibiki walked up behind him.
“Feeling the Christmas joy yet, Daichi?” he asked.
Yamato beamed. “See? Hibiki has the right idea.” He put on a santa hat. “Let the festivities commence.”
Commence they did, festive they weren’t. The coloring books were passed out to everyone–while coloring was, despite being marketed as an activity for young children, generally fun for all ages, what certainly wasn’t fun was a race to fill out a forty-page booklet under the watchful eye of the chief of JP’s, who sharply corrected any attempts to use the “wrong” color. Christmas trees were green, not blue–Santa wore a red coat, not a technicolor one, and he certainly didn’t have sunglasses or smoke a blunt, what in the hell was Joe thinking. In the end, the winner was Fumi, who, much to Yamato’s disdain, couldn’t have colored more lazily if she tried. Still, seeing as she hadn’t technically broken any of the rules, there was no reason to penalize her.
After a very awkward judging session, in which it was discovered that Airi, Alcor (but he was technically cheating, Yamato insisted), and, much to everyone’s surprise, Keita, were by far the most artistically inclined of the group, Yamato plastered up a poster board featuring Santa and several reindeer, and announced the rules: everyone was to be blindfolded, spun around three times, and whoever managed to correctly place the sticky red bauble on Rudolph’s nose would be crowned winner. After a tragic attempt by Hibiki, who had gone first, ended with Daichi quietly snickering something about “Rudolph the red-assed reindeer,” Alcor placed it perfectly on his first try. Yamato, irate, demanded he explain himself. Apparently, Alcor was blind to begin with, which explained the perpetually closed eyes–he perceived the world through other senses undescribable to humans, and his attempts to do so led to an incomprehensible lecture on Septentrione biology, while Yamato grew more visibly cross with every word he spoke. Fascinating as it was, Yamato eventually requested him to sit out the rest of the contest, which quickly proved to be more boring than Alcor’s lecture. Pin the nose on the reindeer was moderately fun when it was to crown a winner, but far less so as a time trial. By the end of the thirty minutes, everyone had won at least once, and they were all counting down the seconds until it was over and they could open presents.
Eventually, Yamato’s alarm went off, and everybody silently breathed a sigh of relief. The presents were passed out, and, as per Yamato’s instructions, opened one at a time, as he called everybody’s name, so everybody had a chance to react properly. When Otome, who was called first, opened her present to find that Yamato had given her an entire refrigerator, “react” she certainly did. Yamato seemed proud of his choice in gift, at the very least. Other notable gifts included a washing machine for Fumi, a mattress for Makoto, a set of fenceposts for Jungo, an entire door for Hinako, jumper cables for Daichi, a stained glass window for Io, and, strangely enough, a marble bust of Hibiki for Hibiki himself, who wisely decided not to question this too deeply.
When they finally broke for dinner, it was silently but unanimously agreed to be the best part of the night.
“You know what the worst part is, though,” said Hibiki.
“Yeah?” said Daichi between mouthfuls of steak.
“You can’t even be mad at Yamato. Look at him.” Hibiki pointed across the room, where Yamato was enthusiastically talking to a visibly uncomfortable Hinako about his plans for wreathmaking. “He’s really trying his best to throw a great party for us. It’s not his fault he’s, uh… what’s the word…”
“Absolutely terrible?” Daichi offered.
“Yeah, that.” Hibiki turned back to him. “How are you liking the jumper cables?”
He shrugged. “Not bad. I guess they could be useful in a pinch. How are you liking the marble bust?”
“Let’s not.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Yamato’s voice. “Sako, a word, if you will.”
On the one hand, eavesdropping was rude. On the other, this sounded interesting.
“Is something wrong, Chief?” she replied.
“I’ve been meaning to ask. That tree… it looks familiar somehow, but I can’t quite place it. You wouldn’t happen to have any idea, would you?”
Makoto blanched. There was a brief pause in the conversation, before Yamato sternly said, “The truth, Sako. All of it.”
“Uh… well, you see,” she began nervously, “there… weren’t any trees available that were as big as you wanted, so, uhhh…”
“Sako.”
“…It was Saiduq’s idea.”
“Sako.”
At that exact moment, a fuse bursted loudly, and the power went out.
It wasn’t just the Christmas lights that went out, though. One look out the window, and it was clear that this was a bona fide blackout. Until Alcor conjured a ball of light several seconds later, the entirety of JP’s was in complete darkness.
“Welp, guess the power’s out,” said Joe. “Guess the wreath decorating is cancelled.”
Yamato chuckled. “Don’t be absurd. In a few moments, this will pass, and the party will continue as planned.”
A few moments did pass. And then a few more. Yamato coughed.
“…Any moment now.”
“Hey, uh, Saiduq, quick question,” said Fumi. “What exactly did you use as the power source for the lights?”
“Simple. I connected the JP’s power room to the towers that maintain the force field around Japan,” he said. “You did ask for something that wouldn’t run out, yes?”
The color drained from Yamato’s face. “You… what?!”
Suddenly, everything clicked. Fumi spoke slowly. “Well, I guess you underestimated how much power we needed, because if I were to wager a guess, that’s exactly what happened.”
“…Oh.” He paused. “This does not bode well.”
A moment later, a deafening screech sounded from the center of the room, and–
“W-WHY IS THE CHRISTMAS TREE MOVING?!” Daichi shrieked.
On the bright side, they could see again. The problem was, the reason for that was that the Christmas tree had reared to life and was conjuring a powerful lightning attack.
Yamato spun around. “Sako! Tell me now! What did you summon?!”
“I-It’s the World Tree, Yggdrasil, sir!” she managed. “Saiduq said he would be able to keep it asleep for the duration of the party! It must have woken up when the barrier went down!”
“Wait, you used Yggdrasil as a Christmas tree?” Ronaldo sounded incredulous.
“No time for that,” Yamato said, booting up Nicaea. “Everyone! Use fire attacks! Ancient deity or not, it’s still just wood!”
Before anyone had the chance to so much as say the word “Agidyne,” Yggdrasil screeched again, and launched its attack. A ball of electricity crackled into the air, conducting energy from its metallic ornaments, and after several seconds dispersed in a surge of energy, knocking down everyone in the room.
“Agh–!”
Everyone except Io, Otome, Airi, and Alcor was knocked to the ground, and those who weren’t were barely left standing. In an instant, Otome cast a protective barrier over everyone to shield them from its second attack, and a healing spell later, everyone climbed back to their feet.
“Everyone!” Yamato called out. “Summon your demons!”
“What do you think we’re trying to do?!” Airi called back, grunting as one of its branches hit her square in the ribs. “A little healing, please?”
Parvati readied another spell, only for Yggdrasil to let out another deafening screech, and the room went cold. Within moments, Parvati was completely frozen, and the ice shattered.
“No–!”
Hibiki sprung to his feet, wiping a streak of blood from the side of his head. “Saiduq, cover me!” he called out. Alcor nodded, and rushed to his side. Hibiki fumbled with the buttons on his phone, fingers numb from the cold, Yggdrasil readying an attack unlike any Hibiki had ever seen. It was dark, sucking the light out of the air in a way that chilled him to the bone, and seemed to drain the life out of him just looking at it.
“What… what the hell kind of demon did you summon?” Daichi called out.
“Shining One, watch ou–!”
Yggdrasil fired the attack, and the moment he did so, Alcor leapt into the line of fire, and the attack struck him square in the chest. In that same instant, Hibiki’s phone glowed, and both Lucifer and Satan materialized in front of him. The room was engulfed in flames and holy light, and Yggdrasil screeched again as their attacks struck. When the light subsided, it was engulfed in flames, roaring from the pain.
“Now!” Yamato commanded.
At Yamato’s word, everybody who was standing activated Nicaea, and attacked at once. Yggdrasil’s roars grew louder, deafened by the flurry of attacks from all sides.
“It’s weakened!” Yamato called out again. “Finish it!”
Hibiki, having just regained his strength from the previous attack, summoned all his energy, and a crackling ball of purple energy flew from his fingertips. The almighty attack hit the bullseye, and with a final roar, Yggdrasil began to shudder. Finally, its roots loosened from the ground, and it toppled over–
“Everybody!” Yamato yelled. “Move!”
It fell with a large boom, fortunately not falling on anyone. The leaves on its branches fell off and disintegrated, and with a snap of Yamato’s fingers, the fallen tree burst into flames and was reduced to ash only a moment later.
“It’s… it’s over.” Yamato let out a breath nobody realized he’d been holding, and clutched the wall for support. “Is anybody hurt?”
“Saiduq’s out cold,” Fumi said, climbing to her feet and dusting off her clothes. “He tanked some weird attack for Hibiki. Can someone revive him so Yamato can chew out him and not us?”
“On it,” said Io, who walked over to him and placed her hands to his chest. White light glowed from her fingertips, and he gasped sharply as his consciousness was restored.
“Glad to see you’re alright, buddy,” said Daichi, leaning down to lend him a hand.
Yamato, however, did not seem as pleased. “Alcor, do you… do you realize what you’ve done?!”
Alcor got to his feet. “I summoned the world tree, Yggdrasil,” he explained. “Makoto Sako said you were in need of a Christmas tree. I could think of none grander.”
Yamato lunged for him. This was a bad idea. Although everyone’s attacks during the fight with Yggdrasil had illuminated the room well enough to see the fight, the power was still completely out. So, when Yamato blindly lunged in the direction of Alcor’s voice, it was still pitch black, so he tripped, and fell over.
There was a splash. He fell right into the eggnog fountain.
The power flickered back to life.
The timing couldn’t have been better. Yamato sat, completely stunned, and, most importantly, completely drenched in eggnog. Nobody spoke. There was nothing to be said, and there was no sight grander in the world than the chief of JP’s sitting dumbfounded in a fountain of eggnog. One of the jets was even aimed perfectly at the crown of his head, and it dribbled down his forehead, off the end of his chin. It was just ridiculous enough that, in that moment, everybody forgot they should be afraid of him, or even that they should probably feel a little sorry for him.
It was the perfect moment. Everybody would forever remember it as the best Christmas they’d ever had.
Unfortunately, like all good things, it didn’t last. Slowly, Yamato stood up, stepped out of the fountain, and wrung the eggnog out of his hair, unblinking, gaze fixed on Alcor.
Fumi muttered under her breath. “Five… four… three… two… one…”
The fuse exploded. “ALCOR!” Yamato screamed at the top of his lungs. “YOU’VE RUINED CHRISTMAS!”
And he stormed out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind him. All that remained was the trail of eggnog footprints.
Alcor stared at the floor, gaze transfixed. “I… ruined Christmas?” he said, genuinely hurt by Yamato’s words.
“H-Hey, Saiduq, don’t worry about it!” Daichi reassured him. “You didn’t ruin anything! Yamato’s just… well… y'know…”
“Hey, where did the food go?” said Airi suddenly.
Everyone looked up. She was right–nobody had noticed thanks to the earlier commotion, but every morsel of food prepared had completely vanished.
“It must have happened when Saiduq was knocked out…” Otome mused aloud. “He made it by… um, he used his powers to make it.”
“I am… truly sorry, everyone,” Alcor said softly. “All I wanted was for all of you to have the best Christmas possible. Yamato Hotsuin is right. Everything is my fault.”
“That’s not true!” said Io. “If it weren’t for you, we would have never gotten this far to begin with!”
“Yeah, that’s right!” said Hinako. “And I mean, we can still have fun! We never had that chawanmushi Jungo made, did we?”
Jungo perked up. “T-That’s right! I put it in the kitchen! Give me one second!” He scurried out of the room.
A lightbulb flashed in Daichi’s head. “Hey, you know… now that Yamato’s gone and the power’s back, do you know what this means?” He picked up the boombox from earlier. “It’s Karaoke time!”
Makoto chuckled. “You know… after all of today’s craziness, that actually sounds like a great idea.”
“Aw, yes!” He rushed to the center of the room. “Uh, Fumi, can you help me set this up.”
She smiled, and for once it wasn’t worrying. “Sure, why not.”
Hibiki cracked a smile, and began walking towards the center of the room, but then he noticed Saiduq, who hadn’t moved from the spot they’d left him in, still staring dejectedly at the ground.
“Hey,” he said, “aren’t you going to join us?”
Alcor looked up. “Even after I… ruined Christmas?”
“Don’t think of it like that,” Hibiki said. “All you did was try your best. Yamato, too. Besides, there’s no way any of us will ever forget tonight.”
If only someone had managed to snap a picture of Yamato in the eggnog fountain. That deserved to be in a museum.
“You really aren’t angry with me?” he said.
“Nobody is. Except Yamato, but he’ll come around.” Hibiki smiled at him reassuringly. “You’re our friend. We want you with us today.”
“Friend…” Saiduq looked down again, then back to Hibiki. Finally, he returned his smile. “Thank you, Shining One. I think… all of you have truly helped me understand the meaning of Christmas.”
That was… one way to put it, sure. But whatever worked, as long as it made Alcor happy.
“Heeeeey, Saiduq!” Daichi called. “We’re doing karaoke! Wanna go first?”
Alcor considered it. “Are you certain?”
“Yeah! C'mon, it’ll be fun!” He held out the microphone. “I bet you sound great!”
He paused, then gingerly took the microphone. “Very well,” he said. “Now, tell me. What are the rules of this 'karaoke’?”
Elsewhere, Yamato’s peaceful shower was interrupted by the unholy screeching noise that was Alcor attempting to sing.
“That’s it,” he groaned, forehead pressed against the shower wall. “No more Christmas parties.”