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Hiori never much enjoyed Christmas.
Well, okay, fine. That wasn’t totally true.
He had enjoyed the idea of it, back when there was still a Santa Claus and the promise of new video games. There were Christmas mornings where he had woken up to unwrap something that was almost exactly what he wanted, but close enough that his eyes had widened in unfamiliar childish excitement. Those were the times that made him think, This is what it is supposed to feel like. This is a normal Christmas. And his parents had smiled nervously, fingers twitching to take it away from him.
In recent years, there had been a considerable decrease in the quality of the holiday, though Hiori suspected it had always been a bit of a mess.
December was for the instructors on the television leading Christmas-themed exercises, videos hand-selected by his mother as she watched him lift weights to the sound of rhythmic jingle bells. On the days where the snow was manageable, Hiori was outside, alone, with his earphones and his soccer ball. More than enough company.
This year, after the luxury of his birthday (low-calorie non-dairy cake that was still somehow way too sweet and a duplicate of a game he already owned), Hiori’s parents had sat him down for a serious conversation.
“Oh, Yo,” his mother had sighed with a smile, leaning forward in her seat. “Ya understand, don’t ya? Soccer comes first.”
Hiori’s father offered a wide smile, clasping his hands together as if it was a business meeting. “Ya know what happens to athletes that take vacations, right, Yo?” Without waiting, he continued. “They get lazy. They get slow.”
“Ya gotta stay ahead of those bums,” his mother scoffed.
Hiori sat perfectly straight in his chair. He concentrated on a speck of lint on the floor and nodded. The lint nodded back at him. There was no safe dialogue option to pick.
“So let’s just forget about Christmas this year.” His father watched him warily.
Hiori’s mother scowled. “Do ya really have to say it like that?” she snapped.
“Got it. No Christmas.” Hiori nodded again.
“Yep.” His father flashed him a thumbs-up and stood up, cracking his back.
“Oh, just think,” his mother exhaled, standing up with him. “Our little Yo, practicing through the holiday, coming out stronger than anyone else. Just like a real professional athlete.” Caught up in her delusions as she was, she forgot to plaster a smile on her face, waltzing out of the room looking miserable without catching Hiori’s eye. For the best, really.
There was nothing to process. Nothing to feel. Just another holiday without the semblance of a functioning family — nothing new. He would rather stay up playing video games than spend an awkward morning with them. Soccer, soccer, soccer. The sound of the word sickened him. No break this Christmas. Nor the next, or any after that, if his parents achieved their dream.
Hiori got lucky. It rained for a week, keeping him indoors and glued to his console. The squelching zombie-killing sounds blended perfectly with the comforting rainy hum. His luck ran out, though, when the snow arrived. It drove him outside by his parents’ orders, returning each day with his cleats soaked.
The time passed as it always did: in dull, monotonous day-to-day rhythm. It stretched on and on, as lifeless as the snow that peppered the sidewalks.
One ordinary morning, Hiori entered the kitchen in search of his morning protein shake, which his mother handed to him with a casual “Merry Christmas.” Hiori blinked at her, before quickly looking away. There was no need to start unnecessary conversation.
“Once again, Yo, we give ya our love and support.” His mother mustered up a vaguely fond grin, patting his shoulder.
“Thank ya, Mom,” Hiori responded like the dutiful son he was, taking careful steps towards the door.
Nothing looked too Christmas-y. There was snow, sure, like every other day. No sleigh in the sky. No reindeer. No omen of childhood wonder lit up his path to the field. Not that he expected one. Not that he hoped for one. Obviously.
Instead, there was a… dark silhouette. Okay, that was generally kind of ominous. As Hiori got closer, it appeared to be a very person-shaped silhouette, albeit one with very spiky hair.
The person was facing away from him. Hiori could practically see the optional ‘Interact’ button floating ahead of him, privately considering whether or not his parents would accept “strange person standing on soccer field” as an excuse for not practicing.
“Shh.” The person – guy – said. Hiori had not been talking, thank you very much.
“I was not talking,” Hiori clarified, a bit miffed that this guy would assume that Hiori wanted to talk to him. He set his soccer ball on the ground and resigned himself to politeness.
“Wait, wait,” the guy sighed. “I’ll be gone in a sec. Just—” he cut himself off, staring up at the trees bordering the soccer field. As Hiori tracked his gaze, a bird jumped from a branch and swooped away.
It didn’t seem like anything special. The sun was awfully bright today. Was he some sort of crazy bird nerd or something?
The guy finally turned around to shrug at Hiori, who was momentarily startled by his sharp features. Gelled black hair and half-lidded dark blue eyes, with a sideways grin that faltered when he met Hiori’s eyes. “Hey, are ya gonna use this field? Mind if I watch ya?”
Hiori raised a brow. Some small voice in his mind told him that his parents would be very happy to know that a stranger wanted to see him play. (A talent scout! Paparazzi! An agent!) This was not a voice that he wanted to listen to.
“Not for anything weird,” the guy quickly amended. “I used to play. Haven’t got anything better to do.”
“Ya’d rather watch me shoot into the net than have a happy Christmas?” Not that Hiori was one to judge.
“Sounds like a pretty happy Christmas to me.” He shrugged. “I’m not into the sappy stuff, ya know? Name’s Karasu, by the way. Karasu Tabito.”
“...Hi?” Hiori gave him a tight-lipped smile. What was this guy’s deal? “Hiori.”
“Nice ta meetcha.” Karasu gave a little salute and leaned back on a bench.
It was easy to play like no one was watching. Hiori had always found that dumb, anyway; his parents had trained him so that no crowd or high-pressure match could cloud his concentration. Every shot hit the back of the net with a hollow thump. He could see Karasu scrolling through his phone out of the corner of his eye.
He was starting to shiver, despite the exercise, tucking the soccer ball under one arm and jogging over to talk to Karasu. “Uh… aren't ya bored?”
Karasu gave a little yawn. It was oddly cute. “Soccer’s not exactly yer passion, is it?”
Hiori froze. “Why do ya say that?” he asked carefully. Lucky guess, probably. His coaches had always applauded his dedication and good spirit. Sportsmanship came easily to him, at least after all this time.
“Ah— don’t get me wrong, it’s not the way ya play.” Karasu’s eyes lit up. “Yer great, really. Fluid and fast.” He shivered.
“Then why?”
“Yer empty when yer playing. It’s hollow, I guess. The little tells in your face and body language.”
Hiori smoothed his face to a careful neutral. “Hm.”
Karasu coughed. “Uh, if yer done practicing, we could grab a coffee or something.”
“No, but thanks.” Hiori gave him a polite, practiced smile. “I have to follow my meal plan.”
“That sounds unhappy,” Karasu said, furrowing his brows.
“It is not very happy,” Hiori found himself agreeing.
“It’s Christmas. It’ll be my treat. C’mon.” Karasu cocked his head towards the main street.
Now that he thought about it, it did sound nice to sit somewhere warm that wasn’t his house. Surely hot tea wouldn’t disrupt his meal plan too much.
The cafe wasn’t busy this early in the morning. He told Karasu his order and found a spot in the corner with a cushioned bench, leaning back and trying not to think about his sore muscles.
Karasu sat across from him, setting down Hiori’s hot tea, along with his own drink and an assortment of pastries.
“Ah, thanks, but I’m not supposed to eat pastries.” Hiori scrunched up his face. “I’m not a big fan of sweets, anyways.”
“This shop mostly has savory pastries, anyway,” Karasu responded seamlessly, shrugging. “I got some extras. No pressure.”
“...Alright.” Hiori took a sip of his tea. “Thank ya,” he repeated.
“No need.” Karasu pulled out his phone. “Ya seem like the sorta guy that would be into gaming. Wanna do something multiplayer?”
Hiori’s heart nearly did a somersault. He carefully set his cup back down on the table. “Yeah, I’m into gaming.”
“Called it.” Karasu grinned, which also did something to Hiori’s heart. “I see ya.”
Hiori was almost at a loss for words. “I… wish we could play right now. Can I give ya my tag?” He hesitated. “My phone’s at home. My parents make me leave it.”
Karasu raised an eyebrow. “Damn.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’d like yer tag. And yer number.” He shot Hiori a hopeful glance, handing him his phone for Hiori to type a note into.
He entered his gamer tag and his phone number, about to hand it back when he noticed a notification appear at the top of the screen. “...Ensemble Stars? What’s that?” It looked to be the icon of a video game, with some generic ‘log in today to claim your items’ notif.
“Ah!” Karasu laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “It’s just a rhythm game. My sister likes it.”
“Nice,” Hiori nodded. He passed the phone back over with a mental note to look it up when he got home. He was pretty good at rhythm games, even if they didn’t capture his attention quite like shooters.
Karasu pushed the phone back. “Ya wanna try it?” Hiori wondered what he had said or done to give away his curiosity, but he found that it didn’t matter. His fingers brushed Karasu’s as he took it back.
The loading screen was four characters with performing outfits on. It took him to Karasu’s home page, where his character didn’t look to be very far levelled up. Hiori frowned. “Can I…”
“Do anything ya want.” Karasu gave him an encouraging smile. “Yer probably more of an expert.”
It was kind of addicting to click through the stories, speed-reading about the so-called underachievers and their shenanigans. The lives were simple enough to figure out, and entertaining to play. Hiori was so concentrated that he barely noticed when Karasu slid over to his side of the bench to watch over his shoulder. (That was a lie. He definitely noticed.)
“I like this Rinne guy,” Karasu commented right next to his ear, almost startling Hiori. Key word being almost. Hiori Yo refused to jump at jumpscares, no matter what form they took.
“Huh.” Hiori’s fingers tapped at supersonic speed. “I feel bad for Hiiro.”
“Lots of responsibilities?” Karasu asked softly, breath tickling his neck.
Hiori nodded, finishing the live and grabbing a pastry to munch on. “Mhm.”
“Changed yer mind about the pastries? I’m glad,” Karasu leaned against his shoulder.
“The Niki character is making me hungry,” Hiori sighed ruefully. “I’ll jog the long route home later to make up for it.” A sudden jolt of panic hit him. He paused the game to check the time. “Ah. Fuck.”
Karasu groaned. “Responsibilities. Gotcha.” Before Hiori could stand up, he pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and squeezed his hand, leaving Hiori flushed and mildly confused. “Hope ta see ya online. And in-person again. Both would be cool.”
“Cool.” Hiori repeated. Karasu pressed the napkin into his hand with a wink. It had ink scribbled on it—what looked to be a username and password.
“My Ensemble Stars login. I mean, ya can make yer own account instead, obviously, but I figured since ya levelled me up so much…” Karasu trailed off bashfully.
“I like yers.” Hiori smiled at him with all the emotion that he could feel. “Talk later, yeah?” He left the cafe with red cheeks (only the cold, he told himself).
The icy wind in his lungs felt more like the burn of excitement. Quiet snow was comfort in companionship. Was it joy that curled up in his chest like a bird’s nest?