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It has gotten very cold, very quickly towards the end of November.
Benkei had stepped out of his apartment in a thin jacket that had been perfect for the mild late autumn temperatures just yesterday and received a freezing gust of wind to the face, to which he promptly turned back around to dig out a scarf, a pair of gloves and the thickest coat from the back of his closet. Then he had looked out at the street and noticed for the first time the lights decorating the trees outside, strung between lamp posts and hanging in the windows of the neighboring houses.
Christmas had sneaked up on Benkei without giving him much measure of warning.
Which leads him to wandering the city center with Kyoya, looking at the decorated display windows and debating which shop would be worthwhile to enter. It’s not quite December yet, but the lights everywhere make it hard not to get into the Christmas spirit already.
“You do know I’m not the best choice for this, right?” Kyoya has his hands buried deep into the pockets of his padded jacket, a checkered scarf wrapped high around his neck so that it covers his chin and mouth against the cold air. His skin is pale and it makes the red on his cheeks and his nose all the more obvious. “I don’t even remember the last time I celebrated Christmas. Not since before I first came to Metal City, at the very least.”
Benkei shrugs, tugging down his beanie to cover his ears. His breath forms a white cloud in front of his mouth when he huffs out a laugh. “I mean, I know that. It’s kind of why I asked you. We’re both not used to this,” he waves one hand around to encompass the lit-up shops all around them, “and I thought we could use the experience. Let’s just have fun with it, okay? I have no idea what I’m doing, either.” He grins.
Kyoya stares a few seconds too long at a garish, life-sized Santa Claus statue standing in the entrance of one shop whose hat lights up in different colors, before looking back at Benkei. “Yeah. Sure. Just promise me not to get something super ugly.”
Benkei laughs. “I promise I will take your opinions into consideration.”
The thing is, this is the first time since he became homeless at the age of fourteen that Benkei is able to celebrate Christmas, in his own apartment that he moved into earlier this year, the first permanent home that really feels like his. And he realized he wants the apartment to be wholly and utterly his, wants all the experiences that come with having his own space, and that includes decorating for the holidays, picking out silly little trinkets to fill his home with just because he likes it and because it’s what you do when you have a home to return to. Benkei wants to know what the big deal is, is perhaps what it boils down to, and just the thought is enough to fill him with excitement.
“Oh, I like this one,” Benkei says, pointing to a display window that is filled with intricately painted paper star lanterns, lit up from the inside and glowing in different colors.
Kyoya studies them for a moment, before opening the shop door and entering ahead of Benkei. “It’s alright, I guess. I think my mom had one of these hanging in front of the windows when I was little.” He frowns. “It was silver and blue.”
Kyoya doesn’t talk about his family often, but it makes sense that he would be reminded of them with what they are doing today. Benkei is the same. Their families are the only personal point of reference they have for celebrating the holiday.
“We used to have a snow globe, as big as my head, that could light up,” Benkei offers in return. He exhales quietly as the warm air inside the shop hits him when he steps in after Kyoya. He tugs off his gloves and stuffs them in his pocket. “It would always be on the windowsill so that I could see it glow from afar when I was coming home from school. I would sit and watch it for hours sometimes, and imagine the little figures inside running around and playing in the snow.”
When he looks up, Kyoya is frowning again. Benkei knows him well enough to recognize that he doesn’t know how to respond to his reminiscing, so he steers the conversation in a safer direction.
“What colors would be good, do you think?”
Right at the entrance, there is a huge shelf with differently colored Christmas baubles to choose from. Now that he is standing in front of them, it seems like a safe bet to start with the Christmas tree decorations and then go from there.
Kyoya shoots him an incredulous look. “Shouldn’t you decide that? You’re the one who is going to have to look at it for a whole month.”
“I’d still like your input.”
He sighs. “Shit, who cares about color schemes anyway? Something Christmas-y? Red? Red is traditional, right?”
“Red is traditional,” Benkei agrees, nodding slowly to himself. He picks up a glittery ball ornament and grimaces when the glitter instantly sticks to his skin. “What about orange?”
Kyoya scoffs. “If you’re colorblind maybe.”
“Brown?” There are brown ornaments decorated with tiny reindeer (so adorable!), next to another set of glittery ornaments, these ones purple. Benkei is careful not to touch those this time.
Kyoya follows his gaze and rolls his eyes. “You couldn’t go more boring than that. And don’t you dare suggest purple.”
“You have a lot of opinions for someone who doesn’t care about color schemes,” Benkei grins.
“Shut up.”
“I guess there’s nothing wrong with traditional,” Benkei decides, partially to appease Kyoya and partially to just be done with it. The amount of choice is overwhelming.
Speaking of choice, the red Christmas baubles are taking over a whole section of the shelf for themselves. There are simple ones, in varying shades of red, some shiny, some matte, some purposefully rusty, and there are more decorated ones, with glitter, or paint, or little stones. Some are see-through, some are engraved, most are perfectly round but some have unique shapes like stars, or angels or the face of an owl.
Glancing between two identical baubles, the only difference a slightly different pattern painted on them, Benkei feels his eyebrows climb up his forehead. “I had no idea how difficult this could get.”
“Me neither.” Kyoya’s voice is faint with disbelief as he examines the owl face bauble with a deep frown on his face. “This is ugly as hell. Who allowed this?” And he chucks the decoration back in its basket.
Benkei chuckles, secretly agreeing. He picks mostly at random, one of the simpler designs with a delicate pattern, and — when Kyoya isn’t looking — he also sneaks in one of the reindeer ornaments for good measure.
Next are the paper star lanterns that Benkei saw hanging in the display window.
They’re bigger than he initially thought, enough to fill the whole width of his kitchen window, and they also come in all kinds of colors, all of them beautifully painted. They are expensive enough that Benkei knows he can only afford to get one.
“The red one would be the obvious choice,” Benkei says. It’s the same wine-red as the ball ornaments he picked out. “What do you think?”
Kyoya considers the lanterns seriously. “The light is kind of orange.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Benkei clarifies.
Kyoya doesn’t answer for a moment and when Benkei turns, he can see why. He is staring at a white-and-silver star lantern with swirling, light blue accents. Benkei remembers that he mentioned earlier his mom having one like this in his childhood. Benkei swallows heavily.
It’s a difficult thing to get Kyoya to talk about the things that trouble him, even for Benkei who has known him for such a long time, and that includes his family. While Benkei has had no trouble sharing that he was kicked out of his home when he came out to his parents at fourteen, that he was an only child (as far as he knows, since he has had no further contact with his family) and since then lived with the Face Hunters and later in the dorms that the WBBA offered all of them, Kyoya hasn’t told him much.
Benkei knows that his parents are still alive, at least, but Kyoya never mentions the circumstances of his departure and subsequent minimal lifestyle. Kyoya once mentioned a brother, but he shut down when Benkei asked questions, so Benkei stopped prodding further. This is basically the extent of his knowledge.
“That one is pretty,” he says gently.
Kyoya scoffs. “The colors would clash with your other decorations.” He tears his gaze away and toward the other lanterns on the wall. “You should get something gold.” And he points at a pale-yellow lantern with a gold pattern painted on it, its light warm and not too bright.
It’s beautiful, of course it is, but– “But the colorful ones are so pretty,” he whines.
Kyoya shoots him an exasperated look. “Why are you asking for my opinion if you’re going to choose something different anyway?”
“What? You were the one who chose the whole color scheme,” Benkei protests. “Okay, how about this? I don’t care about everything being cohesive and matching the color scheme or whatever. It’s only one lantern, it probably won’t even stand out that much. Let’s both just pick our favorites, regardless if it clashes or not, and we’ll choose from there. Alright?”
Kyoya sighs but his tone is fond when he replies, “Yeah, sure, alright.”
Benkei grins. Kyoya might grumble and complain all he wants; at the end of the day, he still goes along with Benkei’s ideas.
“Okay, ready? Three, two, one!” And they both point one finger at a lantern on the wall.
Benkei has picked a mostly dark blue star lantern, red at the points of the star, with some green and yellow in the middle. It glows kind of purple which he thinks will look cool in the apartment.
Kyoya’s pick is lighter, mostly pastel colors, a mix of light blues and pinks and greens, less of a pattern and more smudges of color that make its light sort of kaleidoscopic. It’s not what Benkei would have expected Kyoya to pick. He kind of likes it.
“Oh, that’s cute,” Benkei chuckles, taking the pastel star lantern from its hook on the wall to take a closer look at it. Kyoya looks to the side with a self-conscious little huff. “I’ll take it,” Benkei tells him quickly.
“You don’t have to pick what I want, Ben. It’s your home,” Kyoya says, not meeting Benkei’s gaze. “I know what I said before, but I didn’t mean that you should leave all the decisions to me.”
Benkei can’t help but smile at him. “That’s not what I’m doing. I asked you to come along because you have good taste and because you’re my best friend and because I thought that maybe it would be nice to have something in my home that reminds me of you.” He flushes a little at what he just admitted but there is no way to take it back anyway, so he soldiers on. “These are just cheap trinkets and they don’t mean anything if I just buy them by myself. Having a nice memory attached to them is what makes them special. And I think you’re amazing, you know that. So,” he shrugs, face feeling hot, “the fact that you chose it makes them extra special? I don’t know what I’m saying.” He laughs, now thoroughly embarrassed.
When he chances a glance at Kyoya, Kyoya is gaping at him, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked, before he hurries to hide his face as best he can in his scarf.
The fact that Kyoya is just as flustered as him at Benkei’s words makes him feel a little better.
“So, what are you doing on Christmas Eve?”
Kyoya is silent for a moment. “Kakeru, my brother, he messaged me to ask if I’m free.” Benkei goes still at the mention of Kyoya’s brother, his face becoming serious. If Kyoya is in a mood to share something personal, Benkei will always be there to listen raptly. Kyoya takes a moment to collect his thoughts, then snorts derisively. “Dinner with my parents was implied. I don’t know why they think I’d suddenly want to come home after five years of radio silence, but that’s just the kind of people they are.” His jaw clenches.
“Your parents aside, don’t you miss your brother?” Benkei asks carefully, because even though they never talked about him, Benkei always got the impression that Kyoya cared about his brother immensely.
Kyoya swallows and meets Benkei’s gaze wearily. “Kakeru loves our parents. It’s complicated, I’ll spare you the details, but there is no way he wouldn’t try to convince me to go home if we met up.” He stares at the pastel star lantern that Benkei is still holding in his hands before turning to Benkei with a carefree shrug. He obviously wants to move on from the topic. “Anyway, I’ll probably just treat it like a normal day, it’s what I usually do. What about your plans, Ben?”
Benkei accepts the diversion for what it is and tucks the lantern into his shopping basket. It’s starting to get full. He fidgets with the decorations inside for a moment, making it all fit together better in the small space while he tries to figure out how to answer. “If you want to, obviously you don’t have to, no pressure at all, I think it would be nice if we, maybe, made plans together?” Kyoya keeps looking at him and it’s making Benkei nervous, so he hurries to add, “Only if you want to.”
Finally, Kyoya starts to grin. “I don’t know, I just told you I’m pretty booked on that day.”
Benkei huffs and bumps their shoulders together, making Kyoya sway dangerously close to a display of differently colored candles before he regains his balance and shoots Benkei a glare. “Yeah, okay. Hilarious. Just leave me hanging like that, why don’t you.”
Kyoya bumps him back, much gentler, and is obviously trying not to smirk, when he responds, “Don’t leave me such big openings then. What are you so nervous for anyway? Of course, I’ll spend Christmas with you if you really want it so badly.” He manages to make it sound haughty and arrogant, like he is doing Benkei a favor instead of agreeing to meet up with someone he spends 99% of his time with anyway.
Benkei doesn’t think it’s a good idea to give Kyoya any more openings, so he quickly takes his filled basket to the cash register and pays for his new stuff. The girl behind the counter packs everything in a huge bag with the shop’s logo on it with big, emblazoned letters. Benkei thanks her and takes the bag and leads Kyoya out of the shop.
They are hit by an icy blast of wind as soon as they step out on the street. Kyoya’s nose scrunches up as he braces himself against the cold, and Benkei can’t help but think it’s cute. Then something white slowly falls from the sky in between them and then another white flake and another.
“It’s snowing,” Benkei says, grinning excitedly at Kyoya. He takes Kyoya by the hand and leads him further out onto the street, tilting his head back to look up at the dark sky.
“Why are you so happy? It snows every year,” Kyoya grumbles, tilting his head up as well to see what Benkei is looking at. He shivers a little, so Benkei tugs him closer to his body and tries to subtly shield him from the wind as much as he can.
It doesn’t escape Benkei’s notice that Kyoya hasn’t let go of his hand yet, and he has no plans to address that as long as it keeps happening.
“Remember that snow globe I told you about that was sitting on our windowsill when I was younger?” Kyoya nods. “That’s why. I don’t know, it kind of feels like we’re tiny people in a snow globe, doesn’t it? I loved to imagine that as a child. The world in that snow globe seemed so fun and peaceful and there was nothing I wanted more than to live there and just play for a while.”
Kyoya hears what he is not saying. The world in that snow globe had been an escape from his parents who never really stopped fighting with each other or shouting at Benkei for things he couldn’t help, which often got even worse during the holidays with all the added stress around it. It had been a perfect fantasy for a lonely, conflicted child.
Kyoya squeezes his hand and Benkei turns to smile at him, touched at his silent support.
The memory doesn’t hurt much nowadays because he has had years to come to terms with his shitty childhood and his shitty parents. He used to be bitter and angry about it and when that didn’t work, when that didn’t make it feel better at all, he tried to focus on the things and the people that made him happy. He thinks he did a pretty good job of that eventually. So now the hurt is a distant ache, and with Kyoya’s hand in his own, it’s not even that.
The world in that snow globe was nice, but Benkei would choose the real world every time if that is where Kyoya is.
He swings their joined hands slightly and drags Kyoya down the street, looking for the next shop to enter. Kyoya shoots him an incredulous look.
“Are we not done yet?”
He sounds kind of dismayed when he says it, and Benkei knows it’s not because he is getting sick of spending time with him but because he can’t stand the cold. His fingers are already turning frigid in Benkei’s grasp, even though he is doing his best to cover Kyoya’s smaller hand with his own.
“One more shop,” he promises. “I can’t decorate with just the tree ornaments and one lantern, can I?” Kyoya groans. “And I’ll buy you some spiced tea when we’re done.”
That earns Benkei a put-upon sigh. “I’m not that easily bribable, just so you know.”
When he hears no other complaints, Benkei can’t help but laugh at Kyoya. He holds tightly onto Kyoya’s hand and feels Kyoya gripping tightly back, and thinks up some other things he can buy to mollify him after they’re done. For now, he can’t wait to see what kind of decorations Kyoya will pick out for his home, that is already halfway to being their home — although to convince Kyoya of that is probably going to take a while longer.