Kyoya: DragonFang2011 does not own Metal Fight Beyblade or any of the characters in it. And I must say: MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE! *turns to me* There. I said it. Now give me my Beyblade back.

Me: Sure...

Kyoya: Geez... I'm not even gonna use Leone in this story...

Me: Of course, you're not! It takes place in a world without Beyblade!

Gingka: THE HORROR!

Me: Have you ever experienced heartbreak? *sobs* It's horrible.

Ryuga: Oh, no... not this again... I already told you to get the hell over that jerk.

Me: I can't! He was so perfect, even though he's not as hot as you! Last Christmas, I gave you my heart! But the very next day, you gave it away! This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special!

Ryuga: *facepalms*

"Christmas,

Christmas, time is near.

Time for toys,

And time for cheer.

We've been good,

But we can't last.

Hurry, Christmas,

Hurry fast.

Want a plane that loops the loop.

Me, I want a hula-hoop.

We can hardly stand the wait.

Please, Christmas, don't be late!"

Kenta smiled at the singing carolers. He was bundled up from head to toe as protection from the frigid temperatures of winter. A burst of joy pulsed through his body—it was Christmas Eve. He loved Christmas Eve. And Christmas Day. And pretty much everything with Christmas in it.

It was starting to snow again, the tiny little bits of white floating down to settle on the boy's smiling face. He stuck out his tongue to catch some snowflakes. "Hey, Ryuga!" he called to his adoptive brother. "Look! It's snowing!"

The teenager was looking at one of the window displays, seeming mesmerized by the bright decorations. He angled his face—his nose and cheeks red from the cold—towards Kenta and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. "I can see that," he said dryly, rolling his eyes. Then, he turned back to the display.

Kenta huffed—his brother never seemed to have enough time for him. "You forgot to buy presents, didn't you?" he muttered, following Ryuga's golden gaze to an assortment of jewelry, candy, books, toys, and clothes that ringed the pile of fake gift boxes, which supported several moving, singing figurines.

The white-and-red-haired teen seemed unfazed. "Tch. No. I'm not giving anything to anybody."

"Liar."

The older boy glared at him. "What did you call me?"

"Guys!" Kenta was saved from Ryuga's wrath by Ryuto running towards them, grinning from ear to ear. His spiky white and red hair—nearly identical to Ryuga's, except the red streak was on the right side—was nearly completely hidden under a woolen cap. Three cups and a white paper bag were balanced on a tray in his hands, along with several other small boxes wrapped in colorful paper.

"Who wants hot chocolate?" Without waiting for an answer, he shoved one of the foam cups into Kenta's hands.

Kenta adjusted his fingers on the cup, feeling the warmth of the hot drink seep through his gloves. "I can't believe it's Christmas Eve already," he said, then added sadly, "But it's just too bad that Mom went on a business trip..."

"Well, she's a single mother raising three kids," Ryuto pointed out. "So she has to work hard."

Kenta shrugged and swirled his hot chocolate around in the cup. "But still..."

"So when's Gingka's party again?" Ryuto asked after a long silence.

"Tonight," Kenta replied.

"Rich kid rubbing his money in our faces," Ryuga grumbled.

"Ryuga! Just be glad we've been invited." Ryuto held out the paper bag. "Here. Have a cookie."

"No thanks." Ryuga passed the bag to Kenta. The green-haired boy's face broke out into a smile, and he picked out one of the sugar cookies, which was still warm from the oven. He took a sip of his hot chocolate. The drink seared his tongue and lips, but he didn't mind.

oOo

"Hurry up, son!" Ryo puffed. "God, you're heavy!"

Gingka was balancing precariously on top of his father's shoulders, grasping the golden star tightly in his hand, careful not to mess up the carefully-placed decorations on the Christmas tree. "Almost there, father!" he promised. "Just a little bit... more... there!" His dad knelt down, and he clambered off him.

"Sorry, dad," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I just thought that we'll give the old tradition one more shot."

His father patted his head. "Well, Gingka, let's not try that again." He laughed good-naturedly. "You're not seven years old anymore."

Gingka leaned on his father's side and felt the warm arm drape itself around his shoulders.

"Have you finished wrapping all of the presents for your friends?"

"Yeah." The redhead glanced at his hard work proudly. Several parcels of different shapes and sizes ringed the tree. And Gingka hoped that he'd gotten them the right presents. Sure, they'd cost him hundreds of dollars, but it would be so worth it to see their smiles. After all, he was going to miss several friends at this party.

Masamune was in America with his friends, Toby and Zeo. The people he'd met traveling around the world were in their home countries. So it was going to be himself, his father, Kyoya and his brother Kakeru, Benkei, Madoka, Kenta, Ryuga, Ryuto, Yuki, Tsubasa, and Yu.

Gingka grinned. "It's going to be fun."

oOo

"Come on in, guys!" Gingka said, stepping back. "Put your coats in the closet and set your bags down right over there!"

Kyoya stepped in, stomped the snow off his boots, and looked around with uninterested blue eyes. "Nice place you got here," he commented dryly, whipping off his hood. His wild mane of spiky, jade-green hair popped up like a jack-in-a-box, and his trademark cross-shaped scars under his eyes were partly covered by his wet bangs. He slipped his gloves, scarf, coat, and boots off and placed them into the closet. He tossed his overnight bag into the corner.

Benkei followed, shivering. "B-B-B-Bull!" he exclaimed, shaking snow off his jacket. "It's so cold out there! It's practically a blizzard now!" Then, he ambled off to place the presents he and Kyoya had brought, under the tree.

"I know, right!" Kakeru piped up from behind the purple-haired teen, taking off his outer clothing. "The roads are closed, so we had to walk here! It's a good thing our parents weren't at home—they never would've let us go out in this storm!"

"Well, I'm glad you guys made it," Gingka said nervously. What if the others don't?

By the time it was six o' clock, it was snowing like mad and there were still some people missing. Madoka, Hikaru, Kyoya, and Tsubasa were perched on the bar stools, drinking hot chocolate. Yu, Benkei, Kakeru, and Gingka were sitting in front of the fireplace, roasting hotdogs and marshmallows. Yuki was lounging on the couch, typing away on his laptop, and Ryo was nowhere to be seen.

Gingka was beginning to wonder where the remaining guests were, when suddenly, there was a pounding on the door. He scrambled to a standing position and slid across the hardwood floor in socked feet and flung open the door.

A blast of frigid winter air nearly knocked him off his feet and needles of snow whipped his face.

He was shoved aside by a short boy.

"Kenta?"

The green-haired kid took off his hood and hat, revealing a pink face with a running nose. "Man, took us forever to get here! We got lost! If it weren't for Ryuga..." He shuddered as he whipped off his coat, then his boots.

Ryuto and Ryuga made their entrance. Gingka was glad to see them. "Glad you guys made it!"

Ryuga snorted, stripped off his coat, and tossed it onto the floor, along with his boots and his stuff. "Lost my hat somewhere out there," he growled, probably to himself. "And it was my favorite hat, too..." He raised his arms and stretched.

Ryuto elbowed his brother. "Don't be a grump, bro," he said. "Remember what happened to Ebenezer Scrooge?"

"Bah, humbug," Gingka said in a raspy voice. He closed the door.

They cracked up.

"Shut up." Ryuga sent his younger sibling and definitely-not-his-friend a heated glare, then sniffed, wiping at his red nose. He made himself comfortable on the couch next to Yuki. He shook his head, scattering both melted and solid snow everywhere.

"Hey, watch it, Rudolph!" Yuki yelped, pushing his large, round glasses higher on his nose. "You're gonna get my laptop all wet!" He held his laptop away from the older teenager and quickly scooted over to make room for him on the couch.

"If you ever call me Rudolph again..."

"Well," Gingka muttered to himself, "looks like everyone's here." He grinned in amusement and sat down next to Madoka, who turned to smile at him, her pretty turquoise eyes sparkling. "Hey, you guys!" she said rather loudly. "Who's ready for dinner?"

Gingka raised his hand enthusiastically. Madoka knew him too well.

Soon—with the combined efforts of everyone—the table was set, and everyone was scooping up mounds of food and placing them onto their plates. Gingka stared at the selection of food that himself, Ryo, Madoka, and Madoka's parents had made. He didn't know which dish to try first. So, he settled for selecting the platter nearest to him, which was the roast duck. He tore out a piece, and worked his way around the bone, gnawing hungrily on the hot meat.

Next was his favorite—the burgers. He licked his lips and picked one up.

"Don't you ever get fat eating so much?" Kakeru asked.

"Nope," Gingka said through a mouthful of burger. "High metabolism."

"No talking with your mouth full, Gingka," his father said.

Gingka swallowed his food. "Sorry."

The rest of the meal went by without any food fights or arguments or any of the sort, thankfully. Gingka ate for several minutes, and yet, his stomach wasn't satisfied. The same went for Benkei. As a result, the two teens were the last ones at the table, trying to see who could clean the plates faster. The others stood behind them and egged them on.

"Go, Benkei!" Kakeru whooped. "You can beat 'im!"

"Gingka! Gingka! Gingka!" Kenta was cheering.

The grownups were starting to collect the empty plates, talking about how they didn't need to take home any leftovers, but Gingka concentrated on the burger in front of him and chowed down on the food. His jaw was starting to hurt from chewing so much, and his stomach was starting to feel more than a little full. He felt himself slowing down as he ate.

But Benkei was still going strong.

"If you win, son," Ryo yelled, "I'll buy you a new iPad!"

Suddenly determined to win, Gingka painfully gulped down the last bite of burger and looked around. There was no more food left... except... He hurled himself onto the table and lunged for the last chicken leg just as Benkei did. They grabbed one end of the leg at the same time.

Gingka found himself glaring at the purple-haired teen. "I got it first!"

"No!" Benkei said. "I did!"

And he yanked on the chicken leg like it was a piece of rope. However, Gingka held onto the piece of meat stubbornly and was dragged across the table. He refused to let go, and dug his nails into the food, scratching off a large chunk of meat. He stuffed it into his mouth, just as Benkei was picking the last strips of chicken off the bone.

"Gingka wins!" Ryo held up his son's hand.

That was when Yu interjected, "But we don't know who ate more! It's unfair to judge it by who finishes first!"

Benkei agreed. Of course.

No one got an iPad that night.

oOo

Kyoya stared at the large present that Gingka had placed on his lap. He felt everyone's eyes on him. He gingerly put one finger under a flap of paper and slowly tore the wrapping off. Little by little, a familiar picture revealed itself to him. He felt a smile spread across his face, and he opened the box.

He held up the brand-new electric bass guitar, gazing in admiration at the design that looked like melted green glass edged in black, on top of a layer of white. He ran his hand over the four strings and the smooth, polished surface.

"He likes it, B-B-B-BULL!" Benkei yelled.

Gingka was grinning like the idiot he was. Kyoya quickly wiped the smile off his face and turned it into a smirk. "Hmph. You were actually smart enough to know exactly what I wanted this year," he said, remembering the box of hair ties he'd received from the redhead the previous Christmas (which had resulted in Kyoya beating the stuffing out of said redhead).

"That's right, Kyoya!" Gingka said, grinning. "No more renting guitars for you! Here's the case!" He reached for something behind the Christmas tree and pulled out a black leather case. "I even had your name engraved in it!"

"This must've been expensive."

"No biggie, dude." Gingka patted his shoulder. "You've been a good friend to me. See how it sounds."

Excitedly, Kyoya attached the strap to the guitar, and slipped it over his head. Then, he reached into his backpack, pulled out the mini amp from its container, and plugged it into the guitar. He plucked at a string. A beautiful, clear tune emerged from the tiny speaker, sending tiny vibrations through the instrument.

"Play something for us, big bro!" Kakeru flashed him a bright smile.

Kyoya shook his head. He didn't perform in front of audiences—even small ones.

"Aw, come on, Kyo-yo!" Yu said, pouting. "It's Christmas, and we've never heard you play! Ever!" His large, emerald-green eyes started to well up with baby tears, and he stared at the jade-green-haired teen with a rather sad expression on his face.

The puppy-dog face.

Yu received another shake of the head and a firm, "No."

oOo

He was seated on the floor, left leg sticking out in front of him, right hand propping his head up on the raised corresponding knee. Hikaru drew closer to him nervously, a small, but beautifully wrapped, package in her hands. She halted a few feet in front of him, unsure of how to behave towards the situation. She suddenly felt rather out of place, standing there quietly as the others talked and played, as she watched him brood in silence.

She looked down at her outfit again—clingy, long-sleeved, off-the-shoulder red shirt with darker red designs, deep blue skinny jeans, gray socks, and a rhinestone-studded black leather belt. She wondered if she'd made the right choice in clothing, or if it was too casual. Madoka was dressed better—a pink and white shirt, white cardigan, blue denim skirt, and black leggings.

But then again, that was Madoka. She always managed to succeed in making Gingka stare at her.

Hikaru had taken forever to wrap his gift, her perfectionist side craving... well... perfection—wanting every crease and fold to be just right... wanting it to be flawless. Out of everyone she knew, Ryuga was definitely the hardest to please. He was the least sociable of them all—rarely friends with anyone, and usually, when he spoke, it was to insult someone.

I wonder if he'll tell me to get lost, or something, like he does to everyone who interrupts his private time. Hikaru felt the urge to leave before she got snapped at, but she didn't move. Something kept her rooted to the spot. She wanted to give him his present.

"Hey, you," she finally said.

After what seemed like forever, Ryuga acknowledged her presence, and looked up, pushing a strand of white and red hair out of his face.

She found herself staring into bright golden eyes—stormy, conflicted, and burning with some sort of strong emotion. They were mesmerizing; she realized that it was the first time she'd ever seen his eyes—she'd never even bothered to approach him before, but he had rather pretty eyes.

He adverted his gaze back to the floor, breaking eye contact with her.

Hikaru blushed, held out the present with one hand, and placed her other one on her hip, looking away from him as well. "Here," she said, her voice slipping into that tough-girl, indifferent tone she'd always spoke with. She was practically telling him that she didn't care if he accepted her present or not.

But she did.

She felt the weight of the tiny package leave her palm as the older teenager took it into his own. Their skin brushed against each other, and Hikaru felt more heat flood her face. She quickly drew back her hand and hesitantly watched as he delicately pulled at the golden ribbon, making it come loose in his fingers.

Each second he spent tearing off the wrapping paper made her more and more antsy.

He opened the small box, set it on the floor, and held up the necklace by its dyed brown leather cord. At the end was a cross made of pewter, above of which was an accent bead. Hikaru crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping that it was a gift he'd appreciate.

"I just thought it'd fit your style..."

The teenager stared at the necklace for the longest time, his bangs shadowing those golden eyes and hiding any emotion that was there.

"That's funny," he said, chuckling softly—or at least, Hikaru thought he was chuckling. It sounded very much like he was coughing.

Hikaru drew her breath in sharply and felt her heart skip a beat. It was also the first time she'd ever heard him laugh, and really, the meaning of this one could go both ways—either he was making fun of her, or he was thinking of something else.

"If you don't like it, just say so," she snapped.

He glanced up, his expression somewhat confused and startled, yet slightly amused. "No," he scoffed. "It's not that. It's just that..." He started to swing the necklace back and forth, his brow creased as if trying to find the right words to say. "I got you something, too."

And now she felt lightheaded. Ryuga never gave out presents.

"You... You did?"

Ryuga stood and pulled a silver and purple pendant from his pocket. It hung from a black cord, and was made from silver and purple metal that interlocked, like chainmail, in the shape of a heart. He dangled the jewelry item in front of Hikaru's face, smirking. "If you don't like it, just say so," he said teasingly.

She felt yet another blush dust her cheeks, and she turned away, trying to hide it... trying not to think about how he was at least four inches or so taller than her... or that he was so warm... or that his face was so close to hers...

She shook her head. "It's alright," she said, shrugging.

"Tch." He flashed her a set of pearly-white teeth, including sharp canines, and disappeared behind her back. His warm fingers and hot breath left her skin tingling as he fastened the necklace around her neck. "There you go," he muttered.

The sides of her mouth twitched into a tiny smile.

oOo

Gingka woke up to the sound of an electric guitar jamming out a fast, high beat, and a loud voice belting out the lyrics to an unfamiliar song.

"Go, big bro!" That was Kakeru.

"Ky-Kyoya-buddy!" Benkei yelled.

The redhead sat up, got out of his sleeping bag, and hurried to the source of the music—the basement. He bounded down the stairs. There, Kyoya stood, in the clothes he slept in—a black T-shirt with the emblem of a rock-n-roll band on it, and a pair of army green sweatpants—playing his new guitar. The others were sitting or standing around him, some with food in their hands, others with party poppers.

Kyoya expertly blasted out a particularly high note and kept playing, his fingers flying over the strings so quickly they've become a pale blur. Then, he started singing again.

"So... how did this happen?" Gingka asked Kakeru.

"It's the Christmas spirit!" the younger boy replied gleefully. "Oh, wait, actually, I kind of... sort of... may have... blackmailed him." Then, he gestured to his older brother. "Hey, at least he looks like he's enjoying himself, am I right?"

And he was right. Kyoya did look like he was having the time of his life. He had a big grin plastered on his scarred face, and his eyes were glowing with a passionate blue flame. In the entire four years Gingka had known him, he'd never seen him look so happy.

In a corner, Hikaru and Ryuga were wrestling, and the white-and-red-haired teen was actually laughing as he pinned his female opponent to the floor... and gave her a peck on the lips. This earned him a slap on the face that left his cheek red.

Someone tapped Gingka's shoulder. The redhead turned to see Madoka smiling at him, and blushing. She was wearing an odd hat on her head... from the top protruded a thick wire that secured a sprig of... mistletoe. Gingka felt heat surge to his cheeks once he realized what that meant.

"Merry Christmas, Gingka," she whispered as she rewarded his lips with a sweet kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Madoka."

Best. Christmas. Ever.

Ryuga: How come I always get slapped by Hikaru?

Me: Because it's just beautiful.

Hikaru: Vengeance is mine.

Me: Aw, come on, you guys! We all know you love each other!

Both: Hmph.

Kyoya: I have one question, Fang. Have you ever touched real snow?

Me: Sadly, no. But I've read about it. For now, the best I can do is take a blender, put some ice in it, then take the ice to the bathroom and dump it over my head. Woe is me! I'll never get to touch real snow! On the bright side, my brother and I could make tons of fake snow and have a snowball fight in the backyard. Of course, if the snow doesn't melt first... we have to be fast. Merry Christmas, everyone! And did I mention it's my one-year-anniversary? One year as a Fanfiction author, baby! *pumps fist*

P.S. I'd like to thank everyone who has supported me as an author and friend, reviewed my stories, no matter how awful they were, and stuck with me through thick and thin! I can't imagine life without you guys there! Merry Christmas, again!