A/N: Well, the 2011 Christmas Special went down such a treat, I couldn't resist doing another festive tale. So I present my second Christmas Advent Special for the TCR fandom, The Little Ballerina. It's based off The Nutcracker and The Steadfast Tin Soldier. While I wandered from the plot, there is a specific version of The Nutcracker that, in hindsight, heavily influenced my story. Kudos to whoever guesses it.

Again, there are a few things:

There will be a chapter a day (like last time).

There are 25 chapters in total (like last time).

Each chapter is set on their respective day; each chapter should last only a day in the story timeline. So today is set the first of December. (Again, you've guessed it, like last time.)

But, unlike last time, this is an AU. So forget what the film told you and lose yourself in the ride.

And, once again, enjoy!

One final note I feel compelled to add: This story is much darker than last year's. Last year I was mostly just messing around with the idea of Baron and Christmas; this year I decided to do something more plot-based. And you know how my plots usually go.

ooOoo

"Christmas begins about the first of December with an office party and ends when you finally realize what you spent, around April fifteenth of the next year." ~ P.J. O'Rourke, Modern Manners

x

Saturday 1st December 2012: Christmas Begins

The sky was turning an interestingly purple shade of grey by the time the brunette dragged her stumbling suitcase to the front porch of the house. She glanced once up to the sky, observing the flat clouds stretching from horizon to horizon and mentally noted that it looked like it was about to snow. She lugged her protesting luggage a few stuttering feet forward. The suitcase had been new only a week back; at some point she had thought the ten minute walk to her destination to be a better idea than flagging down a taxi from the train station. During that walk, the suitcase's wheels had jarred into every bump and dip in the suffering pavement, eventually dislocating the right wheel and subjecting the suitcase to a lurching sort of bumping walk.

The suitcase stumbled another step forward and rolled to a halt when it hit the back of the woman's legs. She kicked it a few inches back to stop it biting at her ankles and gave the house before her another look-over. The redbrick walls were accented with the green paint the window sills and doors proudly boasted and, despite the aging colour of the walls, the green paint appeared to have been well-maintained. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she found the Christmas colouring rather amusing.

"Haru? Haru Yoshioka? Is that you? Come in before you catch your death!"

The brunette's musings were broken by the call and the abrupt opening of the door before her. She blinked and stepped back, kicking her ankles into her suitcase once again. A woman in her early forties stood in the open doorway, face framed by hair tinted with a hint of red with an easy smile rising to her lips.

"Hello, Shizuku. It's been a while since I last came here, hasn't it?"

"I'll say," the elder woman enthusiastically agreed. She leant back into the house, looking back to whoever else resided. "Hey, Seiji! Haru's arrived! Come and help with her luggage!" She glanced back to Haru, leaning casually against the doorframe. Haru noticed the pencil nonchalantly resting behind one ear; something of a habit that she rarely broke. "So, Haru, how was the journey? Were the trains crowded today?"

Haru was in the process of lugging her suitcase up the solitary step that would bring her onto the porch. She gasped out a reply as she hoisted up her luggage by a mere inch. "Not... too bad!"

Shizuku's eyes widened in sudden sympathy, and rather abruptly she was rushing over to help haul the bag onto the step. "We've made your bed on the first floor, but perhaps we'll let my husband carry your stuff upstairs." She gave a scheming wink and dragged the protesting suitcase inside the redbrick house. "Well, I'm glad to hear the journey down wasn't too traumatic. When is your mother coming?"

"In a couple of days. I think she mentioned the fifth."

"What is she up to again?"

"A quilting convention, I think." Haru pushed her case the last few feet into the house and finally paused to lean against a conveniently-placed table. Her expression looked uncomfortable, as if she'd rather not discuss this. "She said she was looking forward to spending Christmas with friends this year," she added, "and I guess we haven't been back here in several years now so..." Haru gave an uncomfortable shrug and looked round for a way to move the topic on. "I see you've redecorated."

"Oh, well, we've been planning to ever since Seiji inherited this place – just a lick of paint to brighten up the room – but we made sure we kept it in the same style as before. Seiji's grandfather did a grand job on the place and... Hang on." Shizuku abruptly broke off to march over to the banister leading to the floor below.

Now they had stopped talking, Haru could hear the faint, unmistakable sound of a violin beneath her feet. Haru had barely enough time to realise who was playing before Shizuku was leaning over the banister, shouting to the violin player.

"Seiji, I said Haru's here! Come up and greet our guest!"

Haru would have winced a little at Shizuku's impressive vocal volume, but her voice could also reach similar volumes. Not for the first time, Haru wondered what kind of terrifying duo her mother and Shizuku must have made when they were younger.

The violin's faint melody screeched to a halt, soon followed by the telltale sounds of someone attempting to carefully put the instrument away as hastily as they dared, and said someone emerged at the top of the stairs. He appeared to be a man around the same age as his wife, tall, with dark hair that betrayed just the beginnings of traitorous grey hairs.

"Shizuku, dear, do you honestly have to be so..."

"Enthusiastic? Energetic?" Shizuku grinned and kissed her husband once on the cheek. "But, of course. I thought you knew that when you married me, dear."

"I thought age would eventually bring maturity. I stand corrected."

"Of course you do. Now, could you be a dear and take Haru's luggage upstairs? She looks like she's exhausted herself with all the travelling she's done today. Haru, what say you to a warm cup of something? Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?"

"Hot chocolate sounds delicious."

Seiji rolled his eyes at his wife's boundless energy and picked up Haru's suitcase. Before he disappeared up the stairs to the floor above, he paused by the brunette and stage-whispered, "Don't let her bully you. I'm doing my best to coax the bad habit out of her."

"Seiji!"

The man grinned conspiringly and hurriedly started dragging Haru's case up the stairs, one step at a time. "Sorry, dear."

"I should hope so too."

Shizuku headed towards the kitchen, beckoning for Haru to follow, but the younger woman paused. She watched Seiji haul her luggage up the stairs, guilt beginning to crease her brow. "Hey, Seiji, if you want, I'll help..."

"No need. Honestly, Haru; I can manage this."

"Don't worry about him," Shizuku told the girl, coming back to lead her into the kitchen. "He needs the exercise, especially since all he does nowadays is sit behind his desk, messing about with his instruments in that workshop of his..."

"I heard that!" Seiji shouted from halfway up the stairs. "And that's rather rich, coming from the writer who spends her hours locked away in her office, writing."

"I love you too!"

Seiji called back the same, leaving Shizuku chuckling as she busied herself around the kitchen. Like from every past experience Haru had spent at the Amasawas' home, the kitchen was in the state of eternal half-tidied. To Haru, it looked like the Amasawas permanently attempted to tidy their kitchen, but remembered something halfway through the job and left to attend another matter. Knowing Shizuku's irregularity with what the author referred to as either 'plot bunnies' or 'inspiration' or 'ideas' (which, Haru felt, was simply jargon for the need to write now) she could well believe that any attempts at tidying would sooner or later be discarded in favour of writing.

Bringing her back to the present, Shizuku moved a pile of fairly recent newspapers to the side which, rather than significantly increasing the tidiness of the area, just created a larger stack of old papers. Shizuku carefully left what looked suspiciously like story notes scattered across the table, left in their own bizarre order. Once finished, Shizuku started on the drinks, flicking on the kettle and readying the mugs before turning around to observe the young brunette.

"So, Haru... How are things between you and your mother?"

Haru suddenly developed an interest in the scrawled, handwritten notes spanning the table. "Fine. What are you writing now, Shizuku? I heard your last book was quite a success..."

"Haru, don't change the subject."

"I'm not. I've just had a long day travelling today and I'm rather tired."

Shizuku's unladylike grunt didn't sound that believing. As usual, Shizuku rarely sounded her age; sometimes Haru got the impression she had still retained a young, almost teenage attitude to life. Admittedly, it was one of the reasons Haru got along with Shizuku so well, even with Haru being half the age of the older woman, but the thought still struck Haru with surprise.

"Alright, alright, I get that you don't want to talk about it. I'll let it go. But you've got to face it at some point."

"Face what?" Haru asked innocently.

Shizuku merely glowered as she dumped an extravagant hot chocolate before her guest, complete with cream, marshmallows and what looked like sprinkled chocolate.

"Hot chocolate? And none was made for me?" Seiji appeared at the doorway and took a seat at the kitchen table. Mock hurt spread across his face. "How could you forget me?"

"I try, I try. But if you ask nice, I might make an extra one."

"Well, if tea's a choice..."

"If you ask extra nice, I'll get the teabags out. And if you take back what you said about writing."

"Alright. Oh, dear, beautiful Shizuku, I was completely wrong about the art of writing. It's a very demanding, exhaustive exercise and should be treated with the utmost respect. Does that earn a cup of tea? Perhaps even a special blend?"

Shizuku sighed and blew a kiss to her husband. "I think so."

Haru watched the exchange with mild amusement, unsure what she was meant to do with this debate firing over her head. There was a momentary prick of sadness when she recalled the situation at home, followed by a seed of anger. She squashed both emotions away, refusing to disrupt the Amasawas' easy atmosphere they'd so casually built together.

"So, Haru," Seiji started, perhaps sensing a requirement as a host to bring Haru into the discussion, "I hear your dancing career is taking off." He glanced over to his wife, grinning a little at the memories it stirred. "It feels like only yesterday you were spinning round in your first ballerina outfit, telling us all how you were someday going to be a famous dancer and all. Well, you certainly showed us."

Grateful for the 'safe' topic, Haru blushed a little at the memory. She couldn't remember it that clearly, but she certainly could recall vague images of herself rushing round her home in a pink tutu as a child. "Thank you."

"It's what brought you here, isn't it?" Seiji continued. "You have a performance after Christmas here, don't you? Will you be practicing at some point?"

"Most days," Haru admitted. "You probably won't see that much of me; I keep myself to myself when at home and the practices last most of the day. But thank you for offering to let me stay. I didn't fancy spending Christmas in a travel lodge, if I'm to be honest."

"It was the least we could do," Shizuku assured as she joined the other two at the table. She passed a steaming cup of tea before her husband and grinned to her guest. "Anyway, it's been years since you last stayed here. How could we possibly pass up the opportunity to see you when you were stopping by so close? What's the show you're doing, again?"

"The Nutcracker. I play Clara. Or Marie, depending on your point of view," Haru amended. "Clara's the name of the girl in the ballet version, but in the book, it's Marie. Sorry, you probably didn't need to know that. There was a lot of debate when they first decided upon The Nutcracker." She was rambling, but tiredness was finally beginning to catch up with her. The journey down had taken more out of her than she'd initially believed.

"Well, I think it sounds brilliant."

"We've already booked tickets," Seiji, significantly calmer than his other half. "We're all very impressed that you managed to follow your dream through. A dancing career is very demanding, or so I've heard."

"Haru must have the same luck as the rest of us," Shizuku noted.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, look at the rest of us." Shizuku motioned to herself and her husband. "I managed to make a living out of my writing – somehow – and Seiji does his music, and your mother has made a career out of her quilting... I guess you must have inherited the ability to follow your dreams."

Seiji rolled his eyes. "You've got such fanciful notions, Shizuku. I expect Haru managed to follow her dreams through hard work and perseverance – and the occasional bout of good luck," he added with a grin. "But, then again, what's life without the odd moment of lucky unpredictability?"

"Boring."

"Shizuku, dear, I think I was aiming for a rhetorical question."

"And, as the only published author here, I more than most understand what a rhetorical question is." She shrugged, smirking through her hot chocolate. "But, hey, I'm only a writer. I only make my living from words."

"And you're very good at it. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

"Good."

Haru yawned from the sidelines, stirring the last of her hot chocolate absent-mindedly with a teaspoon. As usual with any hot chocolate, the remaining chocolate powder had gathered at the bottom, settling into a sludge-like substance with the consistency of runny mud. She was on the verge of wondering whether she was remotely tempted to drink up the last dredges when Seiji spotted her drooping eyelids.

"Haru, perhaps it's time for you to head to bed. You look utterly done in. When do your practices start?"

"On the third." Haru hid another yawn, to no avail. "Tomorrow I plan on milking as much as possible the chance for a lie-in. You won't mind if I don't get up early tomorrow, will you?"

"I wouldn't worry. Shizuku's about as much a morning bird as the regular night owl."

Shizuku made a face at her husband. "I just appreciate sleep, that's all. You're simply an oddity."

"Of course I am, dear." Seiji finished off the last of his tea and, moving his and Haru's empty mugs to the sink, got up. "I'll show you up to your room. Your bags and everything are there, and the bathroom is the first door next to the stairs."

Haru rose sleepily to her feet. "Thanks. And, again, thanks for letting me stay."

"You're like family, Haru. Of course we would let you stay." The two, leaving Shizuku with her chocolate and scattering of story notes, headed up the stairs. Seiji flicked a switch on that flooded the steps with light, glancing behind once to the brunette following him. "Oh, and just one more thing. Shizuku may not be an early riser, but I am. I usually get some practising done in the morning, so if you hear the violin, it's only me."

"Get some violin practice in before Shizuku arrives on the scene, is it?"

Seiji chuckled. "Oh, Shizuku will probably be awake by about eleven. She won't appear downstairs until about two – except, of course, for food and for locating whatever notes she's left downstairs. If you want a cooked breakfast, you can either ask me or, if you're feeling up to tackling our kitchen, make some yourself." He chuckled again. "We trust you not to burn down the house."

"That's very reassuring."

"One would hope so."

ooOoo

A/N: If you want to read a finished festive story, perhaps try my Christmas Special from last year: A Winter's Tale. There's also YC's Nutcracker take on TCR: My Feline Gentleman; Fringeperson's A Cat Returns Christmas Carol & Cat's Christmas; samuraistar's Haru and the Nutcracker; Jva J's AChristmas Wonder; PeaceLightVictory's Never Ceases To Amaze and, finally, ChiinatsuKaminaga's Christmas Wonders. Hopefully that should sustain you until the next Christmas!

Right, that's enough mutual advertising. I apologise for the absurd amount of A/N.

God Bless and Merry Christmas!

Catsafari. =^^=