She felt herself twitch at the neon strobe lights, at the sight of other disgusting humans hammering their bodies together in rhythm to the loud music, and at the obnoxious laughter that echoed through the area.

She fingered the sake bottle absently. Even through the vague haze, she could still feel irritated. The half-filled bottle swished merrily, and she scowled unconsciously.

She could hear the slamming of another bottle, the glass clinking against the counter sharply, cutting through the fog in her mind. She nodded towards the bartender, but she really wasn't hearing much.

The vibrations from her phone trilled through her, and she fumbled with it, but the slippery, slim black object stumbled through her fingers and clattered to the floor. She frowned, but couldn't be bothered to get it.

"It's just an iPhone," she whispered aloud to herself, pulling on a curl of her hair, "you can always get a new one…"

A soft chuckle pierced the air, and she raised her head. A hand gently took hers and put her phone into her hands again, folding her fingers over it kindly.

"It's not like you to get drunk," he remarked. She turned her head towards the voice, furrowing her eyebrows faintly.

Her face was tinted red, and her eyes were covered in a glaze, but she still managed to look high and might despite that. She tilted her head.

"… do I know you?" she asked, her words not even slurred. Her voice was as quiet as always, breezy and sweet.

She frowned in confusion at the sound of the laugh; it was low, manly. "I'm hurt you don't remember me, Rima-chan."

Rima leaned her head onto her fist, using the other to take another swig from the bottle. "So I do know you?" she asked, squinting. The neon lights bounced everywhere; all she could see was bright violet and a comforting smile.

She scowled, but it soon faded away again. "I used to know somebody with purple hair," she told him openly.

"Used to?"

She shrugged, leaning her head against her clenched fist, and using the other hand to take another drink from. "He left," she said dully, closing up and away from him.

"Oh, where to?" he asked interestedly. Her eyes shot up to his, and she saw the dim outline of glasses across his face.

She paused. "I wouldn't know… it's not like I cared enough about him anyway," she said slowly, scrutinizing him.

She licked her dry lips, slowly raising the bottle to her lips once more. "… I miss him," she confessed, smiling faintly as she traced the bottle with her finger.

She wondered if she was imagining the bittersweet grin on his face— she was just a bit under the influence at the moment— as he cheekily tapped her chin, him suddenly being much closer to her face.

The last thing she remembered was the smell of sakura blossoms and sweet warmth.

"He missed you too."

—of being set free—

.it's been an icy road.

It's been six days since she might have she seen that gay douchebag.

"Are you sure you're okay with taking the night-shift, Mashiro-san?"

And she swore that the next time she saw him and his sorry face, she'd royally whoop his butt.

"It's Christmas Eve you know…"

She already knew everything anyway.

"Mashiro-san."

Rima jumped, her blond curls following behind her. "Sorry, what?" she asked, tilting her head a bit tiredly.

"Are you sure you're alright with taking the night shift?" the manager asked worriedly.

Rima forced a smile. "It'll be fine."

"Well, no, I mean, can you even cook—?"

Rima gave her manager a withering look. "The faith you have in me makes me want to cry tears of happiness."

The manager smiled kindly. "I just want you to be safe. Anyway, the new employee is coming, so you'll probably have to teach him…"

Rima scoffed. "Please, safe? Nobody comes in on Christmas Eve—" Rima paused, giving the manager a weird look. "… new employee?"

"Oh, did I never tell you—?"

[ring. ring.]

"Sorry, sorry, I'm late," he said as he sprinted in, panting heavily. "I really didn't mean to come…" he trailed off.

"It's fine, it's fine, Fujisaki-san!" the manager chirped cheerily. "Anyway, this is going to be your lovely work partner, Mashiro-san," she said, pointing at Rima as she stared at him.

"Well, I'll be off," the manager said happily as she walked away. "I'm trusting you guys to keep this whole entire job thing G-rated, got it?"

Rima closed her eyes, wrinkling her nose. "Oh, gross… gross."

"But you thought about it—?"

"Manager-san—!" The manager trilled out a laugh as she skipped out the door as Rima fumed behind her.

Rima didn't even glance at him as she turned on her heel and walked over in the back. "Want some coffee?" she called back to him, her voice as cold as solid ice.

He winced at the sound. "Uh, yeah… thanks."

She reappeared, holding two cups. She took a sip before setting her cup back on the counter. She looked him over as he carefully set down his jacket and scarf. He smiled nervously, tucking his still long violet hair behind his ear, playing with the edges of his glasses to reveal his forever clear ocher eyes—

Rima threw the coffee cup at him, the dark liquid spinning. He dodged it quickly, fluidly. She already knew that he was probably wearing one of his stupid cheeky grins, so she turned around away from him.

"Oops, did you want some sugar with that?" she bit out sardonically.

He chuckled faintly. "I probably should've known you wouldn't be pissed and still offer me something…"

He rocked back on his heels, watching her back carefully as she scowled at nothing in particular.

"… it's snowing," he remarked as he took a seat two away from hers.

She said nothing.

"It's your favorite type of weather," he prompted, staring at the spilt coffee. "Did you even add any creamer to that, or were you plotting to throw that at me ahead of time?"

"Random as always," she said, leaning her head onto a clenched fist. "I'm surprised you remembered."

"Now that I think about it, you always drank your coffee dark… you had a favorite headband that you're wearing right now, you always wearing your watch on your left wrist, Christmas was your favorite holiday, and you think I'm the stupidest, most hateful being on this earth," he said, ticking off the items with his fingers.

"… what a creeper," she said, pursing her lips. "It's not like I asked you to remember those things."

"… I know. I just couldn't forget," he said, playing with his glasses again. She rolled her eyes, turning her head towards him, her eyes burning holes.

"What a sap," she said listlessly, still staring at him.

A shadow of a smile flickered across his face. "The sap doesn't lie."

She shrugged, kicking back her chair. She walked towards the door, while he stared at her uncertainly. She turned towards him, tilting her head. "I'm not armed," she said sarcastically, holding up her arms, her palms facing forward.

He stood up and pushed up his glasses, walking steadily towards her. "I trust you," he said.

She nodded faintly as she pushed open the door. She swished the keys around her finger, locking it quietly.

"She won't mind," she told him with a bored face, and he laughed. She looked up at the sky, squinting her eyes up at the black sky. "Ah, you're right. It's snowing."

"Would I lie?" he asked aloud. She kicked him while giving him a withering look. "I meant besides that," he said exasperatedly.

"You've lied besides that too," she hummed as she walked ahead. He shrugged.

"I meant when it counts," he said simply.

She shrugged carelessly, watching the snowflakes gently fall. She dug her hands into her pockets, inhaling the air.

"Where are we going?" he asked curiously.

Rima turned her piercing gaze back at him. "Don't you trust me?"

"What a way to turn that on me."

She smirked lightly, taking small steps forward. "Is your eyesight bad?" she prodded, idly staring ahead of them. "I mean, you got new glasses and everything."

He paused, touching his glasses. He forced a smile. "Worse than average," he said, watching his breath solidify in the cold air. He didn't see the knowing look in her eyes.

"I guess six years does that to you," she said, whirling around on her heel, facing him fixatedly. He sighed.

"You won't let that go?" he asked, a pleading look in his eyes.

She gives him an incredulous look. "I see you for the first time in six years, Nagihiko, and you expect me to forget that within the one hour I see you again?

He grinned. "The first time you've said my name in six years," he said happily. She kicked him again.

"You're such a teenager."

"We're only nineteen," he said, frowning, "might as well reminisce those thoughtful years again."

"…"

"Hey, reply," he said, poking her in the arm. "I thought what I said was very poetic."

She scowled again. "You're still so annoying. I guess not everything could have changed in six years."

"Any other changes I need to be notified about?" he asked, crossing his arms, his breath puffing out.

"… you got taller," she said, giving a muted exhale, "… again."

He patted her head as she gave him her darkest glare. "I think you're cute short."

She walked a bit faster, turning slightly red. "We're almost there."

"D'aww, is Rima-tan still embarrassed whenever I call her cute?" he said breezily, catching up to her easily.

"Screw you and your stupidly long legs," she said, looking tempted to kick him again.

He ignored the comment, instead taking in his surroundings. He nearly froze, turning around slowly.

"… I really didn't recognize this place," he said, "with all the snow."

She looked at the glass dome, and then looked back at him. "Are you sure your eyesight is just slightly below average? How do you not recognize an effing glass dome?" she said scornfully.

He smiled breezily. "Now there's the patronizing Rima-chan I know," he said, looking at the place with a nostalgic smile. He opened the dusty glass doors, and they creaked loudly.

As he stepped inside, he heard the loud crunch of dead, withered leaves. "… you guys really let this place go," he remarked.

"The plants just couldn't go on without your beautiful, screwed up face, Nagihiko," Rima said snidely.

"… maybe I liked you better when you weren't patronizing."

She wasn't listening as much anymore; the large books still neatly piled on the table in the middle of the dead garden caught her attention. She looked back at him as he slowly turned around.

"… I really loved this place. Isn't this where we first met?" She nodded as she checked her watch, before her eyes widened in alarm.

She yanked on his hair until he stooped down to her height. "This is the place where I figured it out," she said seriously, her eyes betraying nothing. He stopped, staring at her.

"… what did you figure out?" he asked softly, but by then, she had already turned around again, setting off at a brisk pace.

"And off we go again," he mumbled, following her. "I really would've liked to have spent Christmas inside," he called out to her.

"Don't be so whiny."

He looked down, and then pointed at his vest. "You got coffee on me."

"Wasn't that the point of me chucking it at your head?" she barked, trembling slightly. His lips twisted downwards.

"Are you cold?"

She shot him a dirty look. "It's thirty degrees out here, Nagihiko, and I'm not wearing a jacket, scarf, or mittens. What do you think?"

His glasses were fogging up; he walked faster regardless. "We should go back then," he said, his eyebrows furrowed as he pulled on her arm.

She pushed him away. "I have to do this today," she said simply, giving him a careful look. "… hurry up and clean your glasses," she said quietly, "I'm on a schedule."

He flushed, but he felt his heart freeze instantly. He swallowed. "I-I can't," he said helplessly. She snatched his hand; it was freezing, clammy, and tiny.

"You're such a wimp," she said; he couldn't really tell if she was smiling or not. Everything was even blurrier than before…

He fumbled with his glasses with the one hand, cleaning them as quickly as possible. He put them back on, and while he did, her little hand slipped away again.

He squinted, feeling his eyes slowly refocus. "… you have a lot of hair," he stated, focusing on the blond mop of hair ahead of him. Unbeknownst to him, she scowled.

"Yeah, I know, and it's a pain in the butt. Now stop distracting me, and let's go."

"I liked it better when Rima-tan held my hand…"

"Oh, shut up," she said, shuddering again. He saw the tremor move through her hair.

"I'm sorry, I really can't pull that whole cliché move where I give you my jacket. I left it at McDonald's." She snorted as he paused. "I'd hug you, but I think you'd attempt to break my ribs."

She smiled sweetly. "You know me so well."

He looked around him, watching the roads blur more into intense blacks and the streetlights turn into glowing yellows. "… where is this?"

"What, can you not recognize it because of the snow again?" she asked coldly. He flinched slightly.

"… I'll tell you in five minutes," she said as she walked, her shoes making crunching noises in the hard snow.

He whistled for a few minutes, before stopping. "So, did you plan this little walk, somehow knowing I'd show up, or—?"

"It was planned, just not for this day," she said. "Although, I'll admit it, I wasn't thinking you'd show up today… how ironic, that you come back the day you left."

He grabbed her arm. "I really didn't want to leave."

She pulled her arm away. "I know, now shut up, we're almost there; save it till we get there."

She stopped for a second. "… there's a hill here, by the way. Just in case the snow's blocking it again," she said, giving him a wry smile.

He chuckled weakly. "Thanks… it is, by the way."

It was silent for a bit as they trekked upwards. "I like this place," he said aloud. "The peach blossoms probably still look really nice in the spring."

She gave him a side-long glance. He closed his eyes, letting another nostalgic smile cross his face. "I thought we would be going to familiar places; it's like a trip down memory lane."

She sighed. "You catch on too fast."

"You just make it too obvious," he corrected quickly, quirking his head to the side as she pulled his sleeve to the side.

She sat down on the old bench, and he quickly followed.

"… I only lied to you once," he said as he kicked his legs forward. He frowned. "This bench is really only for people your height, Rima-chan."

"Twice, actually," she said, "if you're not counting the petty things that don't matter. And I'm ignoring that second comment so as to prolong your chances of having kids."

"… why are you doing this?" he asked her as his glasses slowly turned misty again. He ignored it.

She kicked her legs forward. "What was the second lie?" she challenged, her honey eyes staring at him sharply.

"I-I don't know."

"Why did you leave?"

"I can't…" he trailed off, refusing to even look at her.

A slight sigh escaped from her lips. "… why can't you see?"

He was silent for a long time, his eyes looking downwards. He refused to look her in the eye.

"… for how long have you known?" he asked tiredly.

She hugged her legs. "I've known for six years, stupid," she said back softly. He jolted, turning to look at her.

"You're joking. You've got to be joking," he said, his voice shaking.

She hugged her knees closer still. "It's cold," she said offhandedly. She held his hand gently until the small tremors faded away before it slipped away again.

"It was a horrible disease that can render a person's eyesight useless. It starts in one eye, slowly eating away," she started, rocking her body back and forth.

"It's freezing," she said exasperatedly. She scooted over and he tentatively placed his arm over her shoulders. She didn't protest.

"The boy's parents searched frantically for anything that could give them a fragment of hope. It was such a rare disease that it was nearly impossible…" she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"The disease slowly spreads; it starts in the eyes, yes, but then it starts to infect other body parts. The boy had the disease for so long… by the age of thirteen it had spread to both eyes. He was blind." She paused again. "He stopped coming to school after Christmas."

"… that was the first year. He was halfway through his fourteenth year when he couldn't even walk." She laughed scornfully. "And yet, this stupid boy still tried so hard to come back. He tried so hard," she said, putting emphasis on the words carelessly.

She sniffled. "Ugh, why's it so cold here. I hate Japan sometimes for its bipolar weather." He held her tighter. She didn't say anything about it.

"It was on his fifteenth birthday that they happened upon a miracle. An incredible surgeon could perform a life-altering surgery… it could fix everything… this surgeon lived in Europe," she said softly again. "It was expensive. Half of their massive fortune would be gone just attempting it… they paid the price."

"… he left on Christmas Eve," she said as she licked her dry lips; he said nothing. "They met up with the surgeon, and he told them that the surgery only had a thirty percent chance of working. They put all of their hopes into that thirty percent."

Rima exhaled.

"… he had surgery."

Nagihiko played with a curl.

"… he survived. It was a miracle, the surgeon had said," she continued, looking at him in the eye, "that this boy has survived for so long. It had almost reached the heart… it's almost as if his entire body barely clung onto life, so much of him was practically rotted and useless. It was the boy's second miracle."

"You're exaggerating the story now," he remarked with a frown, avoiding her gaze. She ignored him.

"They moved him into another room. It hurts to walk, the surgeon had told the parents. It hurts to open your eyes, he told them. He left a bandage all around his head, carefully securing his eyes away," she said, her eyes slowly closing, as if she could recite this from memory.

"He told his parents that his eyes were irreparable; they were beyond being fixed. It was impossible," she said, nearing the end.

"—he was destined to be blind."

She yawned for a minute, feeling herself wake up again. "You're not cold?" she asked faintly, but she didn't wait for his answer. "Then the day came for the surgeon to take off the bandages. The boy could feel his parents holding his hands tightly; he could feel the light pushing against his closed eyelids. He cracked them open slowly." Rima smiled, exhaling. "'Is it dark out?' the doctor asked. The boy could only breathe scratchily. 'It's beautiful,' he had said aloud, his voice barely carrying through."

"It was the boy's third miracle. He could see." Rima balled her numb fingers together.

"Barely," he muttered. She continued.

"There was a girl," she began, "who didn't believe in that stupid letter that boy had left behind. She wasn't a blithering idiot, after all." Nagihiko smirked half-heartedly.

"She looked him up on the school records, looking through the files carefully. It was then that a slip of paper fell out. 'On leave due to medical issues. Emergency item #93.'"

"The girl looked it up. She figured it all out in that glass dome." She gave him a bittersweet look.

"—the boy's last secret."

Nagihiko was quiet. "… you make me sound so deprecatingly depressing," he remarked, forcing a smile. She elbowed him.

He swallowed dryly. "… I really do trust you."

She shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He tugged on her shoulders until she was looking at him in the eye. "I really missed you," he said hoarsely. "Six years is a long time."

She nodded.

"I can't see you," he bit out. "I don't know what you even look like. Did you know I don't even need these glasses?" he asked her, a bitter tone slowly surfacing. "It's a cover. I'm not supposed to be half-blind. I'm supposed to be a dancer. I'm not supposed to be in pain when I dance for more than an hour."

He swallowed again. She slowly reached for his glasses, but he flinched away. "D-don't…"

"I thought you didn't need them?" she said, arching an eyebrow.

"I-I can't…"

"Don't you trust me?" she challenged. He flinched again.

He smiled bitterly. "It's just like you to turn that on me. The second lie, I suppose?"

Their faces were inches apart. "Six years is a long time," he repeated. He squinted his eyes. "It really sucks that I can't see you."

"Stop avoiding the question," she said.

They were even closer.

"I'm not."

"Are too," she shot back.

She reached for his glasses again. He flinched less visibly. Her face came even closer. "What a lying douche. As if you trust me," she said, tilting her head.

"I really do trust you."

Rima fingered her watch, taking a quick glance down.

"It's cold," she repeated. His fingers dug into her shoulder.

"You're really subtle about when you want to get closer to me," he said, a grin making his way across his face as he leaned forward again.

"You lied to me once. You can't do it twice. Fix it, Nagihiko," she said, watching him carefully. Their faces were closer again.

"We were this close in the bar too."

"I know," she said, her fingers inching towards his glasses again.

"I thought about you a lot. It was mostly just blurry mops of hair though."

She nodded her head again, her cold fingers freezing his face through.

He licked his dry lips. "I really missed you, what with your sarcastic comments, your violent tantrums, and the fact that practically everyday you threatened to cut off my manhood."

Her fingers touched the rim of his glasses. They were even closer.

"Do you trust me?" she puffed out.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I've hid behind these glasses since elementary school," he whispered back at her. "I can't actually see with them…"

"But since forever, I felt like I could see with them. They were my lifesaver." He felt himself tremble again. "I'm sorry for lying. I'll mean it this time…"

He held her even tighter, his fingers digging into her shoulders.

"… I-I trust you."

She ripped the glasses off and threw them away as their lips met.

Her watch beeped loudly, trilling at the mark of twelve o'clock midnight.

They parted for a minute, Nagihiko looking slightly confused. Rima managed a dry smile. "This was your present. I'm not getting you anything else, stupid douchebag."

"W-what?"

She stared at his ocher eyes that looked blindly back. She pulled his collar forward until their lips barely touched.

It was December twenty-fifth.

a/n: uuuuhhhhh lol my style is really different now. Ahahhhh, it spiraled into depressing, but it was meant to be like that?

OMG CHRISTMAS ISN'T EVEN A CENTRAL THEME WHYYYYY.

U-uh, but I felt like writing something besides humor for once, ahaha, so I chose Christmas to do it! (LOL they're too busy sucking face to even say Merry Christmas omg.)

/shot

LOL this is the most serious fic I've ever written. It's like five AM where I live so, hmm... and I listened to the piano version of 'Just be Friends' by Megurine Luka, so maybe that's why it turned out like this, since it was SUPPOSED to be humor. O-oh well, it's a nice song, so go check it out?

I wrote this a few days early since my family likes vacationing AWAY FROM HOME on Christmas, which is the death of me, I swear. This probably has a bunch of grammar mistakes, and it probably rambled, and it doesn't make sense, but if you could leave that in a review, I'll fix it later since I need to go sleep, ahhhh...;3; I wrote this on my bathroom floor, and now my butt's sore... (/lol lame attempt at humor the story's over what am I even)

Oh, and right, umm, the point is, everything happened on the twenty-fourth, or like Christmas Eve. He left, he could see, he came back, blah blah, on Christmas Eve, and then on Christmas day they suck face. It's a lovely present indeed. (lol I don't know what I was thinking shhh...)

I've really never attempted anything besides humor, if you don't count Stealing for Keeps and To Escape... SOME AMAZING AUTHORS MAKE THIS CRAP LOOK EASY.

IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN A STORY WITHOUT STOPPING HNNNGHHHH. 8D (omg this a/n is long sorryyyyy.)

Anyway, Merry Christmas guys! Hopefully this was, err, okay? :'D

xoxo, Bluey-san