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Chapter Text

A knock on the door broke Balam and Shiida from their discussion. Before Balam even had a chance to set his tea down and answer, the door opened and in stepped their fellow professor Opera. Their brow seemed to raise at Shiida’s presence, but admittedly Shiida had little experience reading the cat-like demon’s expression. 

“Ah, it’s good to see you,” Balam greeted. “What brings you here today?”

“An important task, in fact,” Opera replied. They set a small knapsack down on the coffee table. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything?”

Balam shook his head, his white mane of hair ruffling slightly. “No, no. Just discussing ways to keep students engaged with Professor Shiida here.” 

Shiida nodded. Indeed, as a fellow socially-awkward person, Balam was a wealth of resources on how to connect with others. But now she’d welcomed the interruption. The scholarly talks had finished, and Balam switched to more personal topics in a continued effort to chip away at Shiida’s enigmatic exterior. And that was a dangerous subject, Shiida knew. 

Opera broke through Shiida’s stream of thought.  “Lord Sulivan wishes to introduce a new winter celebration to the school. He decided on the holiday of ‘Christmas,’ and put me in charge of determining how to implement it.”

The two other professors tilted their heads in near-unison. “Interesting,” Balam said. “I’ve never heard of this ‘Christmas.’ Is there any reason why you came to ask us?”

“I came to ask you specifically Balam, but while we’re here...” Opera subtly focused their gaze on Shiida. “Christmas is a human holiday.”

Shiida gave a look of confusion, seemingly genuine, as Opera noted. “But... humans?” She asked. “I thought they didn’t exist.”

“They don’t.” Opera lied as effortlessly as they breathed. “They’re just a myth, despite what Professor Balam here claims. But remember, humans are the subject of our school’ anthem, no?” 

Both Balam and Shiida paused, recalling that odd fact. Singing that school anthem every week eventually just led to their minds filtering it out. Opera continued, “I suppose that Lord Sullivan wished for a festive occasion relatively unconnected to current Netherworld culture, so we’ll have a blank slate. Of course, we have various myths and legends to pull from, which our human expert Balam might be able to track down.”

“Hmm...” Balam raised a hand to his chin in thought. “Seems reasonable, though perhaps a bit time consuming.” He turned to his tea companion. “Shiida, looks like we we’ll be here for a while longer. Thank you again for the Hell Grey, but could I trouble you to prepare us some more?”

She nodded, deftly picking up the tea tray and turned towards the study door. As she walked out and closed it, a small flash covered the doorway as a subtle proximity charm winked into existence. Opera finished their incantation and lowered their hands, satisfied with their level of privacy, and they looked to Balam. 

It was amazing how Balam’s masked face could still expertly express how nonplussed he looked.  “This is a gift for Iruma isn’t it?” He asked, his voice somewhat low.

“It is entirely a gift for Iruma,” Opera admitted. “Lord Sullivan heard Iruma offhandedly mention a ‘Christmas,’ and now my master is obsessed.”

Standing up, Balam already strode towards a bookcase and began idly rifling through the volumes. “I’m surprised you brought up the topic of humans around Shiida,” Balam commented after a few moments. “While she seems to be loyal enough to Babyls and our students, there’s still a lot of unknowns about her past.”

“Yes. I wanted to see how she reacted. It doesn’t seem like she did, so that line of inquiry may be a dead end. I’ll just politely uninvite her from our little project.”

Balam shook his head, his long hair bobbing side to side. “No, no. Hold that thought. I’ve been trying to get Shiida to open up a little more. This could be a good opportunity.”

“We’ll have to be extra careful,” Opera warned. Yet, their tone lacked definite dismissal.

“It’ll be worth it. Trust me.”

Opera’s ears twitched for a moment, but then they gave a curt nod. “”Very well."  

“Additionally, the young master provided me with some information on how humans celebrate Christmas.”

“Supposedly,” Balam corrected.

“Yes, supposedly,” Opera agreed. “I suggest you review your notes, and ‘find’ these accounts of Christmas traditions. Additionally, the young master also provided something else...” 

They leaned over to open their knapsack, carefully removing the book inside and placing it on the table. Balam furrowed his brow, poring over the object.

“A manga?” Balam inquired. While he rarely read them himself, he’d seen enough students trying to sneakily read them in classes, and his own childrens’ books shared similar visual storytelling. Unfortunately, the visuals were all he would be able to go on. As he picked it up and leafed through the pages, none of the script was in a recognizable language, not to mention the...

“Humans?” Balam’s pitch rose, as his excitement grew. The ears and unfamiliar scenery were giveaways. “These are humans. Is this a human manga? Here?”

Opera raised a finger to their lips, shushing Balam. “I don’t claim to know,” Opera replied ambiguously. “The young master gave this to me, on the condition that I must return it undamaged and that nobody ask where he acquired it. But Master Iruma did say that the story topic is about this ‘Christmas,’ so this will be a good resource.”

Balam nodded in understanding. Best to leave some things unsaid. “I’ll begin taking notes right away.”

The proximity charm finally triggered as Shiida returned, with a kettle of warm Hell Grey and an extra cup for their third member. Opera and Balam welcomed her back. Freshly fueled by liquid warmth, set to work. As Balam began to pull various tomes, scrolls and journals from his extensive collection, Opera took careful note of how Shiida reacted to the manga. 

“Anything particularly catch your eye, Miss Shiida?” Opera asked, as Shiida thumbed through the manga. Her eyes focused and unfocused as she would pause and think just as often as she would turn the page.

“I don’t recognize the language, that’s for one. I suppose I don’t know every language in the Netherworld... The mangaka seems to have a creative and consistent imagination...” Shiida struggled for words.

Opera her hesitation, correctly deducing Shiida assumed them judging her artistic sensibilities. Arts and emotions hardly seemed her strong suit, to be fair. “I think we should focus more on the visuals, like recurring costumes, decorations and such.”

“Ah!” Shiida visibly perked up. “That I can do.” Opera gave her a nod, and Shiida began scribbling notes.

A few minutes later, Balam returned and cleared his throat for attention. Opera saw him make eye contact with a nod, guessing what came next. “I’ve found something that claims to be a firsthand account about Christmas traditions, luckily. Wish to hear it?”

“Please do,” Shiida said, and Opera crossed their hands in anticipation. Balam raised Iruma’s notes, reading them aloud.

“Christmas is a time of family, love, and generosity, and it’s celebrated through gift-giving and spending time with loved ones. The children of the family thank their parents for raising them by presenting them many gifts, the more expensive the better, kept underneath a decorated Christmas tree. In turn, the parents gift their children coal to warm their rooms or tents at night. If the children were good, they get to share the cookies and milk and hot chocolate that the parents enjoy. But if they’re naughty and question their parents or don’t bring presents, a monster named Santa Claws will torment them for the rest of winter, and will only forgive the naughty children if they make sure to give twice as many gifts to their parents the next year.” 

After Balam finished, they paused, as if only now processing what they dictated. Opera and Shiida looked similarly flummoxed. A thick veil of hesitation hung over the three. They had no reason to doubt the information, but...

“That’s not right.” Shiida finally broke the silence. 

“It’s... a firsthand account,” Balam offered, seemingly unsure of his own words as well. 

“Maybe it is,” Shiida said, in a conversational tone that quickly turned declaratory. “But it’s the words of someone that doesn’t know enough to realize they’re being exploited by their family. All of the benefits go towards those in charge and the younger ones are punished for questioning it or not benefitting the parents enough.” 

Shiida’s stoic demeanor hastened to something approaching frustration, as she shifted in her seat and took sharper breaths. Opera and Balam shared a moment of eye contact, with an almost ‘ I Told You So ’ look from Balam. Opera pressed, “Are you saying this from experience?”

“It’s from...” Shiida seemed to catch herself, pausing, and letting her stoicism return. “It’s just inconsistent within itself. Generosity, but it only goes one way? Plus, it doesn’t seem at all consistent with the visuals we have in the manga source. There’s no parental figures or such.”

Opera’s veiled predatory look made it seem like they were about to turn their festive investigation into a full interrogation, but Balam seemed satisfied enough. “I think you may be onto something, Shiida,” Balam said. “That account may only be one side of the whole picture. Plus, remember, we’re here to find out how to throw a Christmas celebration.” 

Balam shot Opera a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Any other information we happen to learn is a bonus, rather than the goal, correct?”

The cat-eared demon nodded, mollified. More revelations would have to come at their own pace.

With that, Balam took a seat, grabbing a fresh notepad. “How about this? We take a list of specific objects and motifs we see, check to see what’s consistent across all accounts, find out what seems good or bad and see what we physically can accomplish. We need a workable plan to actually host the celebration after all, right? 

“Make a list, check it twice, find out what’s naughty or nice,” Opera summed up. It earned them an odd look from both their companions, but they just shrugged. “We have very important demons counting on us. So let’s get to work.”

Chapter Text

A few days later found the trio following their checklist of Christmas chores. 

After their investigations and debates, the three settled on guaranteeing the absolute certainties of Christmas. They would make sure they had these necessities first. The traditional holiday outfit worn by “Santa.” Giving (a reasonable amount of) gifts. Decorations of string lights. Spending time with family and/or loved ones. Cookies and milk. Christmas trees. Hot chocolate. 

Speaking of hot chocolate, Shiida finally held one in her hands as she sat near a small campfire. Braving the cold northern earthmotes for a suitable conifer was tiring work, and she truly craved the steaming, rich beverage that Balam poured into her mug.

Both of them took a sip, sharing a mutual sigh of satisfaction. A comforting warmth filled their stomachs, then their souls, overing fortification against the chill of the morning air. 

“Thank you,” Shiida said, genuinely and clearly. Her face betrayed little emotion, but as a fellow socially awkward demon, Balam recognized when someone smiled with only their eyes. Under his mask, he shared a smile as well. 

They enjoyed the silence and drinks for a few minutes, until Shiida asked, “Where’s Opera?” 

Speaking of the devil, said cat-devil appeared as if by cosmic coincidence. “Right here,” they announced, “Perfect timing, too. Did you keep some of that hot chocolate for me?

Sitting down and joining the two, Opera brought the rest up to speed on their progress. The decorations of lights and tinsel were arriving today, the wrapping paper was bought, the invites sent out. Balam didn’t even need to activate his Buzzer to recognize Opera’s bald-faced lie that the gift amounts “weren’t overboard.” But it was Sullivan’s expenses, and one of the Three Greats could easily afford it. 

When it came to the check-ins with costume orders for themselves and Sullivan, Shiida held up a hand and asked, “Wait, that seems far too few to dress the whole faculty of Babyls.”

Balam blinked, almost forgetting the white lie that roped Shiida into their quest, but Opera stepped in without missing a beat. “Sadly, it was cancelled,” they claimed. “Lord Sullivan couldn’t get enough of the staff onboard for such a large yet unknown holiday. Yet in my master’s magnanimity, he didn’t want to let our efforts go to waste, and is offering to host a smaller event at his estate.”

She looked apprehensive, perhaps suspecting their chicanery, until Opera sweetened the pot. “We’ll still have a chance to have a more personal celebration with Iruma, right? Won’t that be fun?”

Her brow raised, Opera seeing their words finally nudging her into acceptance. Shiida had a protective fondness for the young master, one of the few social connections the aloof woman actually possessed. Like Balam suggested, perhaps the personal angle would be the key to piercing that shell of hers.

And Opera knew another, pragmatic angle too. “Professor, do you mean to say you were looking forward to picking out bespoke gifts for each and every one of your coworkers.” They placed a hand over their chest, feigning shocked surprise. 

A wave of slight panic and instant relief rode through the most socially-awkward demon of the trio, and she shook her head quickly. “N-no, it’s not that...” she stammered, until she composed herself once more. 

Opera grinned with only their eyes. 

Her shoulders slumped briefly. “I understand,” Shiida said. She turned back towards the forest and pointed, noting the rough trail that seemed rather recent. “I just wish I knew about that earlier, I’ve been felling the ideal trees for a few hours at this point. We only need one now, this one.”

To that, she stood up. Balam and Opera watched as she made a way to a tree on the edge of their small clearing. Its triangular shape looked well-fitting to the trees depicted in the manga chapter, and its glossy lavender appeared a similar shade to its monochrome version. In one swift motion, she shot out a powerful crescent kick, cutting the tree off at its base with a loud crack. Shiida patted off the sap and twigs before returning to the others.

They nodded in approval. “Impressive,” Balam complimented.  

As Shiida took her suit, Opera pulled out their checklist, making another mark. They announced, “We still need to find the coal that the naughty children will be raked over.”

Balam sighed. “Opera, we discussed this. Humans are delicate and soft, and were unlikely to have such violent traditions requiring actual death.”

“Right,” Shiida agreed. “If they’re as soft as you claim, they probably only pelted each other with them.” The other demons nodded in assent. “Besides,” she continued, ”I saw what looked like veins while I was fleeing a while back."

“Fleeing?” Balam asked, concern trailing his words. “From what?”

Instead of answering, Shiida turned to Opera and asked, “Remind me the next item on our checklist again?”

“That would be the ‘Reindeer,’” Opera said as they furrowed their brow. “And since the Netherworld doesn’t have any, we’ll replace those with Paindeer instead.”   

Truth be told, the trio were winging it with this chore. Paindeer were vicious ungulates who love goring their rivals on their array of antler-like horns, with the entrails of those slain hanging from the spokes in a glittering, macabre display. No demons ever made a concerted effort to domesticate or even tame them, but they were banking on Balam’s talent with animals carrying the eve. 

“It just so happened that most of the trees I felled were in a Paindeer herd’s territory,” Shiida continued. “I think all the noise and damage made them upset, as they were chasing me for some time. Going back on our path, we could likely encounter them again.” 

Opera added, “And kill two birds with one coal.”

“No killing birds, or Paindeer, please,” Balam chided. “Let’s finish our cocoa, and then get moving.”

Shiida took another sip, then raised her hand. “Question.”

“Yes?” Balam said.

“The Paindeer found us.”

An angry bellow broke the relative silence, followed by several more. The trio turned behind them, spotting the menacing four-legged forms regarding them with intense red eyes. Taller than Balam, with sap and twigs stuck to their coats, they promised nothing but pain and suffering for the three teachers. 

Balam tried, for a moment, to diffuse the situation. “Oh, hello.”

The Paindeer herd let out another chorus of bloodcurdling roars, and charged.