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All around the house stood plentiful decor, most of which twinkled like stars in the lights. The smell of chocolate cake and a variety of desserts wafted through the house. Tauntingly sweet, it tickled his nose.
He would not allow himself to give in to those taunts for very long. He was already going to be throwing off his diet—one of the few times of the year he allowed himself to do so—therefore, a few bites of cake would be more than enough.
With his disorderly desires pushed aside and, hopefully, forgotten, he could focus on what really mattered. A few places on the counters and table stood empty, completely void of what was meant to be. Something was missing, and it just would not stand.
But he had gotten everyone to do their part, had he not? Even Saru decorated the halls somewhat! There was nothing that could be missing.
Except for Ohse.
Earlier that day, he found Ohse sitting in the tub trying to drown himself. He should have been convinced to get to work, but supposedly had not been. To make things worse, all of his projects would take so long to get done!
For a second, Rikai considered that he may have given too much of a workload to poor Ohse, but how could he? No decision he made was ever wrong. If Ohse had a problem with it, he should have spoken up.
He would simply have to go to Ohse’s room and put him to work. Or, maybe the two could go shopping together and find statues to take the place of what should have been Ohse’s craft. He would quite like that, personally. Any excuse to spend more time with Ohse was a good one, so long as it did not interfere with righteousness.
His fists rapped against Ohse’s door. “Ohse-kun!” He called out, a hand cupped around his mouth to extend his voice.
The door creaked open. Inside the room, it was pitch black. The doorway looked like the maw of a cave, swallowing Ohse whole. “Yes, Rikai-san?” He asked politely. His hands clutched the wooden door like a lifeline.
“I was wondering how your statues—”
In a flash, the door was shut once more. Ohse scurried away from it on the other side.
“Ohse-kun!” Rikai’s temple twitched. To have been cut off like that was rather rude, but he swallowed the irritation like water. “I’m coming in.” His voice was much softer now. A show of patience.
When he flicked the light on, Ohse was nowhere to be seen. In the center of his room was a small pile of wooden carvings. Shavings lay scattered all over the ground by his desk, some even landing on his sleeping bag, which held a mysterious lump.
Rikai walked to the pile. A few of the statues had been painted. On the very top was an expertly crafted Santa Claus. It was smooth all over, with very few signs that it had been hand-carved showing throughout the statue. Each individual brush stroke was steady. He donned rosy cheeks and soft colors, making him easy on the eyes.
Many of the other statues followed this same pattern. Every single one showed years of experience, standing out from anything you could find machine-made at the store.
“These are wonderful,” he said quietly, half to himself. When he lifted his head again, Ohse was peeking out from beneath his covers. His dull, yellow eyes soothed Rikai’s aching muscles.
“Why have you not put them up?” Rikai asked, filtering through them.
“They could be better…” Ohse mumbled. “Shit like me didn’t put in nearly as much effort as the others.”
Brows lowered, Rikai drew closer. “That’s not true. I can see you put in plenty of effort, if not more.” He paused with a tilt of his head.
Ohse scooted out from his sleeping bag. His head dipped. “You all have such high expectations, and I can’t achieve them. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize for that.” Rikai placed his hand comfortingly on Ohse’s knee, ignoring the way it made his breathing spike. He was only offering comfort to a friend. “Besides, your work greatly exceeds the expectations any of us may have had.”
“Really?” Ohse’s face lit up, though only slightly. “This sorry waste of space is—”
“—A very talented young man.” Rikai interrupted Ohse before he could finish, squinting accusingly. He could never understand why every word out of Ohse’s mouth had to be self-deprecation. What was the point? It wasn’t like he deserved the cruelty. “And you are not a waste of space. Look at how much you’ve done!” He gestured to the statues.
“But—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Rikai shook his head. “If you do not put these up, you’d happen to be wasting wood. Do you want that?”
“Of-Of course not!” Ohse jumped to his feet. “Everyone’s done such a great job already, and I just…” He twiddled with his thumbs, looking at the pile.
“You just?” Rikai prodded. He stood, too. “You just what?”
“I just don’t want to be even more of a disappointment.” Ohse sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, I’ll go die.” At that, he whipped a knife out of his pocket. The blade sparked as he held it to his throat.
Rikai nearly slipped as he rushed to snatch it, grabbing Ohse’s wrist. “Stop!” He shrieked. “Don’t—Why would you kill yourself over this!?”
“I let you down, so please kill me,” Ohse muttered. His face was shadowed like something out of fiction.
“N-No!” This was the second time that day, Rikai thought as he struggled to pull the knife free. Was Ohse really not improving under his guidance? But that was impossible!
“I can do it myself.” Ohse let go of the knife. The sudden lack of force sent Rikai stumbling backwards. He landed rear-first in a pile of garbage.
As Rikai rubbed his behind, Ohse took the opportunity to snatch up a trash bag. He emptied the contents onto the floor and threw the bag over his head. Without a moment to spare, he pulled the strings tight, entrapping himself.
“Ohse-kun!” Rikai crawled forward before getting off his knees. “You’ll suffocate! Stop that!” He tugged at the trash bag, but it was too tight.
“Let me!” Ohse backed away.
His chest tightening, Rikai tackled Ohse. He straddled him before ripping at the bag.
“Rikai-sannnn!” Ohse wailed, attempting to shove Rikai off of him.
Ignoring Ohse’s cries, Rikai ripped the bag enough to show Ohse’s pale face. He glared with a grimace on his face.
“Crush me, Rikai-san! Do it!” Demanding death, Ohse grabbed hold of Rikai’s wrists. He pulled them closer to his throat with all his might.
The small man was much stronger than he looked—or maybe Rikai was just weak, but that couldn’t be true—and so he somehow managed to get Rikai’s hands right where he wanted.
In one huge burst of strength, Rikai yanked his hands free and pinned Ohse’s wrists to the ground. His chest heaved with tremendous effort.
Beneath him, Ohse panted too, eyes wild with desperation. “Kill meee…” Ohse whispered, his voice hoarse.
“No!” Rikai shook his head. He leaned forward. “Please, stop this!”
“Bleh.” Ohse stuck his tongue out, finally relaxing.
Rikai sighed with relief, shutting his eyes and nearly collapsing onto Ohse. “Thank you.” When he opened his eyes again, Ohse was staring right at him. Yellow eyes pierced through him like sweetened daggers.
The position they were in became increasingly apparent to Rikai as warmth built up in his stomach. Warmth he was all too familiar with, but hated nonetheless. It was nothing short of disorderly and most certainly not okay for a perfect man such as himself.
The second he was away from Ohse, he broke out into a fierce cough that rattled his bones. His skin grew bright red. “Ahem!” He cleared his throat.
Ohse sat upright, slow as molasses. His head hung low. A light pink dusted his cheeks like powdered sugar.
“W-Well, now that… that that’s over with,” Rikai began, tapping his fingers against the floor. “Why don’t we get back to your statues?” He asked with a trembling smile.
“We can use them as firewood!” Ohse suggested enthusiastically. “That way, they won’t be a waste, and nobody has to see them!”
“No!” Rikai got to his feet. “They are too perfect to be firewood!” He dashed to the pile and scooped up a reindeer. It was realistic, not a detail forgotten, with the tiniest bells he had seen in his entire life attached to its reins and harness.
Ohse followed him, though he stayed behind a few steps. Rikai turned around with the reindeer in hand.
“Look.” He held it out, pointing to individual parts. “Do you see this? You spared nothing, making sure to attend to every feature. How could you treat it as firewood?”
“Ummm…” Ohse scratched the back of his neck.
“How could you expect me to be disappointed when this is infinitely better than something I could purchase?” Rikai asked with one hand on his hip. “Knowing it was made by you, actually, does, ah.” He said before Ohse could speak, his tongue nearly tying itself into knots. “It does the opposite of bringing its worth down. So, why don’t you give me an honest reason as to why you think it’s so poorly made?”
“I don’t impact anything positively.”
“Are you saying Kusanagi Rikai is a liar?”
“Never!” Ohse waved his hands around. “Kusanagi Rikai is perfect! A god amongst men!”
Rikai’s heart swelled. His hand reached for Ohse’s head. He ruffled his hair, a wide smile on his face. “Oh, Ohse-kun! You flatter me!”
“No, I mean it.” Ohse almost leaned into the touch before he flinched away. He shrank into himself with his own, fragile smile.
“Well, I really am perfect, aren’t I?” Rikai chuckled, crossing his arms. He still held the reindeer.
“You are!” Ohse nodded rapidly.
“Then, why do you still deny every word I say?” He asked, his head tilted.
“I’m sorry! I’ll—”
“Put them up, right?” Rikai insisted with narrowed eyes.
Ohse gulped. He rubbed his arm, looking away. “Y-Yes. Sorry.”
“Perfect!” Rikai beamed. “We can put them up together!” As soon as he got confirmation, he started scooping each of the statues into his arms. Ohse followed suit.
Together, they carried them out of the room.
Each of the carvings was set on the table. One by one, they moved the figures into the perfect locations. When all but a few were placed, the house was already so much fuller. Only one space remained—above the mantle.
Ohse picked up the rosy-cheeked Santa Claus. Rikai, on the other hand, grabbed the other two remaining reindeer.
Side by side, they made their way to the fireplace. Their hands touched briefly as they lowered the carvings into place. Shivers ran down Rikai’s spine, but he brushed them aside.
With a hand on Ohse’s shoulder, he guided him to take a step back. They stood in silence for a few moments, admiring the completed decor.
“You outdid yourself, Ohse-kun,” Rikai said softly.
“Mmmm…” Ohse looked down, one hand holding the other. “Thank you, Rikai-san… I don’t deserve your praise.”
“But of course you do!” Rikai exclaimed. “Look how hard you worked.”
Ohse did not reply. He continued to stare straight ahead, his hair standing on end. A delicate smile spread across his face. However, it wasn’t long before he crushed it.
“Saru spent a good portion of his time slacking off.” Rikai patted Ohse’s shoulder reassuringly. “You were hard at work while he put barely any effort into anything.”
When Ohse opened his mouth to speak, eyes dimming, Rikai cut him off. “Nevermind what happened in the shower, you corrected your mistake.”
“But—”
“No.” Rikai frowned. “It’s alright. You do not need to be so hard on yourself all the time.”
“...Okay,” Ohse mumbled. His body shook with a yawn.
Squeezing his shoulder, Rikai led him back into the hall. “Why don’t you relax until the party? Maybe take a short nap—just so you have energy—but no longer than half an hour.”
“Are you sure?” Ohse allowed Rikai to lead him up the stairs.
It was completely unnecessary to keep his hand on Ohse for so long, but he was savoring the touch. Why? He had no idea. Surely it wasn’t a problem that he did, though, if Ohse didn’t mind.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Rikai opened Ohse’s bedroom door. “As long as you go about it in healthy ways, naps are not bad for you.” He held himself back from mentioning that they were much better than another suicide attempt.
“Okay, then.” Ohse agreed, stepping into his room. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
“You haven’t been in my way; I enjoyed talking with you.” Rikai stuck his foot forward before Ohse could shut the door. Maybe he didn’t enjoy stopping Ohse from dying, but he did love seeing him. “I promise.”
Ohse’s eyes shone at those words. He gave a curt nod as Rikai moved his foot away.
“Sleep good, Ohse-kun.” Rikai grinned. “I’ll check on you in about an hour.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I would like to,” Rikai spoke firmly. “Do you have plans you’re hiding from me?”
“No! You can—It’s okay! Check on me,” Ohse sputtered. “Sorry.”
Chest puffing out, Rikai gave Ohse a pat on the head. Ohse’s face softened at the touch. His shoulders spiked.
“Good!” Rikai praised him one last time before the door closed.
He was left alone in the hall, staring down at his hand. Slowly, he furled and unfurled it. The feeling of Ohse’s hair still lingered, and his face still burned with the remaining embers of god knows what.
With a deep breath, he returned to the living room. Part of him longed to admire Ohse’s statues for a while longer, and he would allow it.