It was no secret how much Kaneo Takara loved being the richest man in Osaka. He didn't care what others thought, and brought attention to his wealth as often as possible, spending money just to prove he had it. But at the same time, he was proud to have exhausted that wealth in its literal entirety in order to create the S.S. Naked Sun, a battleship that was instrumental in Ragyo Kiryuin's defeat.

But it was because of that sacrifice that he had no money to spend on rebuilding Osaka, which was burned to the ground in the same conflict. There were a number selfless people who volunteered to help out in any way they could, including Ryuko Matoi herself, but in the end it seemed there weren't enough people on board to make a difference.

Ryuko Matoi was not one to give in so easily though. She knew exactly what she could do to help the process along, because she had connections, namely her sister Satsuki.

Unfortunately, Satsuki was less than co-operative.

"I have known Mr. Takarada far longer than you have," she said. "I'm sure he's told you he needs that money, and that may be true, but it would be just as truthful to say that a heroin addict 'needs' heroin. What he really needs is rehabilitation."

Ryuko sighed. "I get that you've known him a long time, and I get that it was a constant feud. But I've seen a side of him you haven't. The side you saw never came down from his high horse, and the side I've seen is the result of him being forced off. Without all his money, he's powerless and vulnerable, and you can learn a lot about someone when they're in that state."

"Yeah!" Mako Mankanshoku inexplicably appeared from behind Ryuko. "It's like the Good Book says: Give a man a bagel, and he'll eat for a day, 'cause he's slow like that. Now, teach a man to bagel, and he'll… um…" She leaned towards Ryuko and lowered her voice. "Ryuko, can you teach me how to bagel real quick?"

Ryuko looked at her regretfully.

Mako frowned before quickly returning to her usual demeanor. "Well anyway. Point is, it's Christmas! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Satsuki just stared at her.

"Mako," Ryuko said, "I think you and I should go outside and talk in private for a moment."

"Sure!" Mako quickly made her way outside, and Ryuko followed her while giving Satsuki the same apologetic look she'd just given Mako. "What is it Ryuko?" She said when they were outside.

"Christmas…" Ryuko paused so she could briefly reconsider where to begin. "One of the best things about Christmas is spending quality time with family, right?"

"Right!" Mako beamed.

"Well," Ryuko said, once again beginning to hesitate. "You… can imagine why that wouldn't be one of the best things for Satsuki, right?"

Mako spent roughly a minute in silence, during which gears could be heard turning in her head. Then, finally.

"Oh," she said. "Oh."

Ryuko nodded. "I appreciate you trying to help me get through to her, but I don't think that's the right way."

Mako frowned. "So what can we do?"

"That's not easy to answer," Ryuko said. "Just like anyone else in our family, she can be really stubborn. I think the best we can hope for right now is for her to decide on her own that she should help."

They soon went back inside, but at this point there wasn't any real energy left for debate. Ryuko and Satsuki's final exchanges before the former headed home could barely be considered sentences, and as Satsuki went to bed her mind felt like a tangled mess.

Still, there was one thought that stood out among the others. Satsuki had always been interested in trying to decipher Mako's thought process, and now was no different. Just what did Christmas have to do with anything? Satsuki was sure that whatever the answer to that may have been, it had no place outside of meaningless fairytales.

As she lay her head upon the pillow, she felt almost weighed down with the sour mood the day had ended on. Over an immeasurable period of time, the sensation began to feel more and more literal, until finally her eyes snapped open to check if there was actually something sitting on her.

And indeed there was something. Or rather, someone. And rather than sitting on her, they were floating above her in a crucified position with a presence that could still be felt from below, as if gravity brought his soul down but forgot about the rest of him.

"...who are you?" was her first question.

It appeared to be a student of Honnouji Academy, wearing a One-Star Ultima Uniform that, like Ira Gamagoori's Three-Star uniform, was bound in chains. Of course, this wasn't possible, as Honnouji Academy and the city it belonged to had both been destroyed months ago, and the Life Fibers that made up Ultima Uniforms were as good as extinct.

There was one more detail, regarding the boy in the uniform, that made the situation all the more confusing, but because Satsuki didn't recognize the boy, the detail didn't occur to her.

That last detail was that this boy, Touji Suzuki, was dead to begin with.

The register of his execution had been signed by Gamagoori, along with the rest of the Disciplinary committee. Satsuki had signed it, and Satsuki's name was the law in Honnou City. Young Suzuki was as dead as a doornail.

"I always wanted people to know who I was," he said. "That's why I took that one-star uniform, and in a way, it worked. The very next day, my body was hanging from the front of the Academy, as an example to anyone who tried to stand up to you." He chuckled. "I like to think that I had the opposite effect when Matoi showed up. I like to think that seeing me encouraged her to start her revolution. That's a big role, right?"

Satsuki was close to speechlessness at this point. "You're…"

"Who I am doesn't matter right now," he said. "Right now, I'm just a warning. Because I'm not the last ghost you'll be seeing tonight. And I'm not the last you'll recognize. You'll see three more after me, and each one will take you somewhere important." He suddenly looked up. "...I don't have time to explain anything else. But by the end of the night, you'll understand."

The chains around him began to unravel before floating towards the ceiling, dragging him with them.

Once he'd disappeared completely, Satsuki was left with nothing but a cold dread, the likes of which she hadn't felt since the days when her mother was alive.

A/N: Right after I wrote Mako's entrance, I heard applause from a sitcom audience in my head. Does that happen to anyone else?