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“You’re coming out with me. Right now!”
Junko rubs one eye and then stares blearily at Haruhi. Unlike her, Haruhi looks pert and alert. Her hair’s held back out of her face not with her traditional yellow ribbons, but instead with a beanie topped with a yellow ball of fluff. Thin black straps of some sort of bag hang over her shoulder, and while her breath puffs out in soft white puffs, she’s clearly not cold. If anything, she’s wrapped in so many layers that cold should be impossible – whatever she’s wearing underneath is topped with a burnt orange peacoat with golden buttons, and her legs are covered in deep brown leggings.
Haruhi looks like autumn on the coldest time of the year so fall, like she can’t let go of the color in a world that’s all white and black and grey.
Contrasted completely with Junko, whose hair is down and fluffed out and probably tangled at this point (it gets tangled so easily), and who is in nothing more than crimson lounge pants covered with the faces of Junk Co.’s various Kuma mascots and a black tank-top – one that doesn’t really fit, seeing as she’d stolen it from Mukuro’s closet, but it’s comfortable and it smells a bit like—
“What if I say no?” Junko asks, pushing a hand through her frazzled hair.
It’s the early hours of the morning – way earlier than any sane person would be up (and equally later than any sane person would stay awake) – but neither of them can quite be called sane. Junko’s long had a problem with sleeping; often she needs to wear herself out until her body literally drops. She’d been nearly to that point when Haruhi knocked, wrapped in a thick fluffy blanket and sketching out her summer designs while she waited for the exhaustion to overcome her.
And then Haruhi….
Well, Haruhi’s Haruhi. She would probably be asleep if she hadn’t thought of something better to do, and odds are, Haruhi can always think of something better to do than sleep. (Unless she’s trying to catch the sheep you count to fall asleep, but even Haruhi doesn’t sink that low.)
Haruhi’s excited expression drops immediately, replaced by one of frustrated annoyance. “I came all the way out here – in the snow!”
“Uphill both ways?” Junko asks, gaze flitting at the cloud-covered sky above them. She pokes her head out just enough to catch sight of the snowflakes trickling down one at a time and hrms. When Haruhi doesn’t continue, she looks back at her – only for Haruhi to have crossed her arms and to give her a huff. “What? That’s the phrase, Haru-chan. Uphill both ways in the snow.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course, you don’t.” Junko yawns and leans up against her doorframe. “Why don’t you tell me what we’re doing, and then I’ll decide if I’m coming or not.” She glances over Haruhi’s shoulder. “You don’t have anyone else with you, so this can’t be official Brigade business.”
Haruhi’s brow sets. “I’m going to catch Santa,” she spits out, “or maybe one of his elves, if I’m lucky. And I want you to help me!”
Junko hands Haruhi a mug of hot chocolate.
“We need to go,” Haruhi says, even as she accepts the mug. It’s almost too big for her hands, somewhere between a mug and a thermos, and it has a UFO on it with I WANT TO BELIEVE under it in bold white print. She doesn’t drink the cocoa.
But Junko settles onto the couch across from her with her own thermos – similar print to her lounge pants, but on a baby blue background. She’d gotten it for Yasuke a while back, right when it was first made – the first of its kind, the first of anything Junk Co. made that wasn’t clothes, something that had to be outsourced (through a reputable creator, of course). As opposed to her lounge pants, it only has Kuma-chan, Shiro-chan, and Kuro-chan’s faces, but they’re similar enough. Even used, this mug would go for money nowadays. Yasuke left it here when he moved.
“How, exactly, did you plan to catch Santa Claus?” Junko asks as she leans back against the arm of the sofa and stretches her left arm across its back. Then she takes a sip of her cocoa with a soft humming sound and lifts it towards Haruhi in a half toast. “Drink your cocoa. You’ll like it.”
“You drugged it.”
“I’m not you, and you’re not Mikuru, and we’re not filming anything, so—”
“That was one time.” Haruhi crosses her arms, tilting the mug so that it’s dangerously close to spilling the cocoa.
Junko doesn’t say anything about that. Instead, she takes another sip of her cocoa and meets Haruhi’s eyes. When Haruhi isn’t forthcoming, she presses. “I’m waiting.”
“You didn’t deny it!”
“Haru-chan, if you really thought I would drug your cocoa, you wouldn’t be asking me to chase down Santa with you.” Junko holds a hand out. “I’ll drink some first, if you want.”
Haruhi glares at Junko’s hand. Then she sniffs and turns up her nose. “You’re probably immune.”
“Mmhm. Totally immune to whatever I put in your drink—”
“So you admit it!”
“—Totally spent the past few months building up an immunity to something just so I could drug you and keep you from hunting Santa for sport.”
“Not just that!” Haruhi slams her free hand down on Junko’s coffee table, and her cocoa splashes out of the mug onto the various designs and magazines she has scattered on the tabletop. “You could have been holding onto this just to stop me from…from….”
Junko glances down to the now stained pages. None of them really matter. She can remake designs, and the magazines are just there for show. “I’m not Mukuro.”
Haruhi’s eyes narrow. “My hand hurts.”
“Because you splashed hot cocoa on it.”
“It would have burned my tongue!”
Junko shrugs. “You would have to drink it first, and you’re not drinking it, so I guess you don’t have to worry about that, do you?” She lifts her gaze to meet Haruhi’s. “Maybe I just knew you were going to have this whole drugging thing to avoid giving me your scheme to catch Santa, so I made sure that when I gave you your hot cocoa, I made it a little hotter so that it would still be warm by the time you finally took a sip.” She nods to the mug. “It should be fine now. If you drink it.”
Haruhi stares at Junko. She glances down at her mug. Then she lifts it and takes a small sip. “It’s good.”
“Told you.”
“Is there….” Haruhi takes another sip. “Nutmeg? Cinnamon? Isn’t it Christmas?”
“Nearly.”
“There should be peppermint!”
“I don’t like peppermint.”
“But it’s Christmas!”
“Nearly.”
Haruhi takes a third sip, but she doesn’t settle, and she doesn’t relax. Then she sets her mug on the coffee table, just atop the papers she’s already stained. “I’m going to leave a message for him in the snow,” she says finally. “I’m going to leave a message in a secret language that only Santa or his elves or maybe his reindeer! will understand, and I’m going to stay up all night, and when he stops for me, I’ll snatch him!”
“Mmhm.” Junko nods slowly over the lip of her cocoa.
A few seconds pass.
Haruhi stares at her. “We need to hurry—”
“Not that I have a problem with your plan, or anything,” Junko starts, “but wouldn’t it be easier to catch Santa the normal way?”
Haruhi’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, it gets darker. More intense. “What normal way? If there was a normal way, someone would have caught him by now, and the fact that no one has means they aren’t doing it right!”
“Mmhm.” Junko nods again. She slowly sets her thermos in her lap. “Consider – we stay here, and you go to sleep, and I stay up and catch him for you.” When Haruhi opens her mouth, full of all sorts of counter-arguments, she continues, “Santa only comes to the houses of good children. I’ve no doubt you’ve been good this year.” She pretends to ignore the way Haruhi shuts her mouth and crosses her arms. “Santa only comes when the good boys and girls are asleep—”
“When he’s coming to their house to leave their presents,” Haruhi interrupts. “If it’s outside, with a message, he’ll stop even when I’m awake! He’ll come to see whoever leaves the message!”
Junko waits for Haruhi to finish her counter before continuing, “But I have been a very bad girl, Haruhi.”
Haruhi sniffs. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Santa will come to deliver presents while you’re asleep because you have been good.”
“Sure.”
“But he won’t care that I’m awake because I have been bad.”
Never mind that Haruhi automatically accepts the premise both that she’s been good and that Junko has been bad. It certainly isn’t meant to be personal. Most things aren’t, with Haruhi.
Junko lets Haruhi set with that for a moment. It’s better to let Haruhi come to her own conclusions. She shifts her hand along her thermos, letting it warm her skin.
“So you’ll stay awake,” Haruhi starts, “and he’ll come to deliver my presents, but when he does, you’ll catch him.” She pauses. “This sounds like a trap.”
“If you say so.” Junko takes another sip of her cocoa. It’s alright. Not her best, but the best she could do on such short notice. “Look, if it doesn’t work, then next year we can try your thing. But this year, let’s lay a trap where we know he’ll stop.”
And where it’s inside. And warm. And doesn’t require staying up in the freezing cold. Probably in a tent.
(Probably not in a tent, if she knows Haruhi.)
Haruhi’s brow furrows. “Fine.” She finally starts to shed her coat. “But if you don’t catch him, it’s your fault. You’ll have to take responsibility!”
“Sure.”
In all honesty, Junko thinks Haruhi just wanted to come up with some sort of idea for a sleepover.
And sure, it would be nice to sleep out under the stars with Haruhi. She wouldn’t really have a problem with that.
But not in the snow.
It’s too cold for that shit.
When Haruhi wakes the next morning, she stretches and yawns. Junko’s bed is surprisingly comfortable. More than she’d expected. Junko wouldn’t let her take the couch, which would be a prime spot for catching Santa – or for being woken up once Junko caught him – because she thought that would give Santa an idea that they were laying a trap. She’d said that she would pretend to nap on the couch, and then when Santa came through to leave Haruhi’s presents, she’d jump up and catch him!
It’s not a great plan, but it’s not a bad plan.
Haruhi’s plan was better.
But she’s a good Brigade Leader, and she lets her underlings shoot their shot every now and again.
This isn’t the best time for that, because it means she’ll have to wait a whole entire year to try again, but that’s fine. They have another year before college. They’ll catch him then!
….
Haruhi cranes her ears. She doesn’t hear any sounds of merry unfortune or any children crying because Santa hadn’t delivered their presents. Junko’s apartment walls aren’t that thick. She should be hearing something.
Which means—
Haruhi jumps out of Junko’s bed and sprints to the living room.
Junko sits, bleary-eyed, on the couch with that same stupid thermos in her hands. She glances up and meets Haruhi’s eyes before offering her a smug smile. “Tough luck, Haru-chan. Seems like you’ve been a very, very bad girl.”
Haruhi’s cheeks puff out and grow a deep, deep red. She stamps her foot. “I haven’t!”
“Well, I’ve been awake this entire time, and Santa didn’t stop by at all.” Junko’s head tilts to one side, and her eyes get a faraway look. “Maybe he left your presents at your house.”
“You idiot!”
Junko sighs and lifts her hand in a huge shrug. “Guess I didn’t think it through. Sorry, Haruhi.”
Haruhi’s eyes narrow. “You don’t sound sorry.”
“I’m too tired to sound—” Junko yawns and covers her mouth with her free hand. “Sorry. I didn’t get any sleep.” Then she pats the spot next to her on the couch with one hand. “I’ve got something for you, though. Even if Santa didn’t show up.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not good enough. You’ll still have to catch him with me next year.”
“Sure, sure.” Junko just pats the seat next to her again.
Haruhi stares at the seat. This feels like a trap, too. This entire thing feels like a trap, even though she was the one who came here. She steps carefully to the spot the same way a skittish kitten might and then finally sets on it, her arms still crossed. “What is it?”
Junko reaches behind her and pulls out a small box wrapped in Junk Co. wrapping paper – Kuma-chan’s face all over it, with a green Christmas hat with a red fluff ball on it atop his head – and a big yellow ribbon. “Merry Christmas.”
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“That’s fine.”
Haruhi takes the present. “This would have been better if it came from Santa.” She waits for Junko to quip something, but when she doesn’t, she unties the ribbon. “This isn’t going to bite me, right?”
“It’s not a dog, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I know that.” Haruhi rips through the wrapping paper and finds a small black velvet box. She blinks twice and then looks up at Junko. “You’re not proposing, are you? Because that’s really weird.”
“We’re not dating.”
“That’s why it’s weird!”
Junko sighs and rolls her eyes. “I’m not proposing.”
Haruhi pops the box open. A necklace lies inside – a thin golden chain with a tiny Monokuma in a Santa outfit, complete with the fluffy white beard and floppy hat. She knows it’s Monokuma and not Kuma-chan because right there, the swooping red eye that marks the difference between them. His eyes sparkle in the light - onyx and ruby, probably – and a diamond in the shape of a star hangs on a separate charm next to him. She blinks twice. “You gave me merch for Christmas, you loser.”
“There’s only one of these in the whole world,” Junko says, tapping the box with one long red fingernail, “which means it’s not merch.”
“It’s got Monokuma on it.”
“As Santa,” Junko says. “To remember trying to catch him together.”
“Then what’s the star for?”
“Because next year,” Junko murmurs, “you’re going to make me sit out in the freezing cold to catch him, and I’m gonna spend the whole time staring at the sky to see if he shows up, and that means looking at stars, Haru-chan.”
“Oh.” Haruhi stares at the necklace. “I still think it’s stupid.”
Junko reaches out a hand. “Then I’ll take it back.”
“No.”
It would be nice to say that Haruhi realizes later that there’s no way Junko should have known about the capturing Santa idea before she stormed down Junko’s door, but she doesn’t. If she did, it would be with the understanding that maybe Junko can see into the future a little bit. But she doesn’t think about it.
That wouldn’t be Haruhi.
And, despite her complaints, she’s wearing the necklace when school starts after break.
(And fights anyone who says she shouldn’t be wearing Christmas jewelry this early in the year. Why should she care what they think?)