Christmas came—less lonely than usual, I guess.
As always, I was the first one awake. I lounged on the living room couch, half-slouched, half-dead, scrolling through my phone while the house slept.
It snowed.
Back home, Christmas was usually dry. Cold, sure—but snow? Not really. Not in Brașov, not in the years leading up to my death.
Which was bullshit. When I was a kid, the city would be buried under a good two inches of snow every winter.
I shrugged it off. No point dwelling on it now.
Still… I visited recently. So yeah. A part of me was still stuck there, whether I liked it or not.
We killed our president on Christmas.
Nicolae Ceaușescu—executed on December 25th. The man who wiped out Romania's external debt. Who reshaped the country's political and industrial landscape in the process.
I'm not a Communist supporter. Never was. But facts were facts. A huge chunk of our modern infrastructure exists because he ordered it built. Strip that away, and we might've ended up no better off than Bulgaria or Albania.
I took a deep breath and pushed the thought away. Christmas in Romania never came with good memories.
Footsteps followed, descending the stairs.
I almost smiled, tempted to place a quick bet. Haruka or Mom. Suzuka was a heavy sleeper—she always woke up last.
I stayed on the couch, phone in hand, listening as they drew closer.
Then the door opened. It was Mom.
She smiled warmly when she saw me.
"Merry Christmas, Takkun~"
"Merry Christmas, Mom," I replied, rising from the couch.
She opened her arms as I stepped closer, pulling me into a hug. I returned it, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. She did the same, a little bashful.
You didn't see it much in Japan—but back in Romania, a kiss on the cheek during holiday hugs was just normal.
She pulled back first, still smiling.
"You're up early again," Mom said. "Jet lag?"
"Something like that," I replied.
She chuckled and headed for the kitchen, already reaching for the kettle. I followed, more out of habit than intention, leaning against the counter as she worked.
The house felt… quiet. Not empty. Just peaceful.
Footsteps echoed upstairs again—lighter this time.
Haruka appeared at the top of the stairs, hair a mess, blinking like she'd woken up in the wrong world.
Then, as if that moment of disorientation snapped her back to normal, her usual cheer returned.
"Merry Christmas, Kokonoe-kun, Chisato-san!~" she said energetically.
"Merry Christmas," Mom and I replied in unison.
Suzuka was still missing. Which meant she'd either sleep for another hour—or come crashing down like a natural disaster.
Haruka practically sprinted toward me and, without warning, pulled me into a hug. I returned it and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, the same way I had with Mom.
She froze for a second, then grinned and returned the gesture, leaving a faint trace of her lipstick on my cheek.
"You're so bold, darling~," Haruka teased.
"Nah, I'm just being normal," I shrugged.
Mom chuckled at us.
"Ara… Haruka-chan, you're going to squish him~" she said, amused.
"He surprised me with that kiss too…" Haruka protested, puffing out her cheeks as if to prove her point.
Then, as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment, Suzuka appeared—quiet as a cat. Her eyes were half-lidded with sleep, her voice raspy.
"Merry Christmas, everyone," she murmured.
"Merry Christmas," we all said in unison.
Suzuka pulled me into a hug and pressed her lips against my cheek. I was surprised—she'd done it first—but I returned it anyway.
"It's our first Christmas together," She whispered, dreamy. "I couldn't even imagine it." She chuckled softly.
"Yeah, me neither," I replied, tracing our lifetime stretched memories.
Haruka raised an eyebrow at us, before Suzuka let go and turned toward her.
"Haruka-chan!" Suzuka beamed and hugged her, repeating the cheek-kiss routine. Haruka's blush deepened, completely overwhelmed this time.
"S-Suzuka… not you too…" she protested softly—before retaliating with a kiss that landed dangerously close to Suzuka's lips.
Suzuka's face flushed scarlet, defeated.
Ladies and gentlemen, Suzuka scored first—but Haruka's comeback clearly won the match. Yuri energy: off the charts.
Oh, and I successfuly introduced the kiss cheek routine in Japan. Victory.
Mom chuckled softly from the kitchen.
"Kids these days…," she murmured, quieter this time, "At least I won't have to worry about Takkun choosing Suzuka-chan or Haruka-chan~"
The two girls froze, cheeks coloring, but they still held each other.
I mean… yeah. Why not both?
Either way, I stayed where I was.
But sitting there, surrounded by quiet conversation and half-awake smiles, it felt real enough.
For once, Christmas felt like a real holiday—not just a date on the calendar.
_____
The Christmas table was already set. Mom and I took one corner, while Haruka and Suzuka claimed the other.
Nothing extravagant. Just a simple breakfast—toast, scrambled eggs, a small plate of sausages. Coffee for Mom and me, tea for the girls.
The kettle clicked softly in the background, filling the room with warmth.
Sunlight filtered in through the window, catching on the steam rising from our cups.
Outside, the snow kept falling, slow and steady.
It wasn't the kind of Christmas I grew up with.
I could still recall it, vaguely—the taste of sarmale and piftie, cozonac too. The taste of home.
And yet… this was more pleasant.
Haruka talked with her mouth half full, Suzuka listened, nodding lazily, and Mom pretended not to notice either of them stealing extra sausages.
"This doesn't feel very Christmassy," Haruka said, poking at her eggs.
"It's warm," Suzuka replied. "That's enough."
Mom hummed in agreement.
Breakfast went by casually.
The plates were cleared, mugs refilled once more.
Mom stood up first, disappearing briefly into the other room. When she returned, she was holding a small stack of neatly wrapped boxes.
"All right," she said lightly. "I think it's time."
Haruka's eyes lit up immediately. Suzuka straightened in her seat, suddenly more awake than she'd been all morning.
Mom blinked when she opened hers. A cream-colored scarf — my gift. She ran her fingers over the fabric first, like she always does, then smiled.
"This is nice," she said softly.
"Matches your laundry taste," I smirked, referencing that one incident.
She froze for a second, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks, before laughing it off. Then she stepped closer and handed me a box.
My gift from her… was a Slipknot hoodie.
I genuinely froze this time.
"Thanks…" was all I managed, before instinctively pulling her into a hug.
"Ara, ara~ Takkun is still a momma's boy, hehe~"
Haruka peeked at Suzuka's reaction before opening her own, like she was more nervous about that than about her own gift. When she finally did, she froze for half a second — then laughed, covering her mouth.
It was a black-and-white striped shirt. The kind French people used to wear all the time. Perfect for our resident reincarnated French girl.
"A marinière…," she murmured, quieter than usual.
"A little something for my favorite French otaku~," Haruka teased back.
Suzuka hugged the shirt to her chest, as if it were something fragile, cheeks pink, eyes warm.
"Thank you, Haruka-chan", she beamed.
Haruka answered with a playful wink.
When Mom opened the gift from both of them, she paused. A tea set. Her smile returned—wider this time.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Both of you."
Haruka and Suzuka exchanged a glance, then nodded together, almost in sync.
Mom reached for her own gift next and handed them a small box. Inside was a matching set of earrings.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, Suzuka handed Haruka a paper bag. Inside was a Chinese dress.
Haruka blinked, then smiled—not teasing, not smug. Just… genuinely fond.
"Avec tout mon amour, for my Chinese bestie," Suzuka said softly, and Haruka pulled her into a warm hug in response.
Then the girls turned to me, each handing me their gift.
I decided not to show favoritism and opened both at the same time.
From Suzuka, I got a book—Les Misérables by Victor Hugo. From Haruka, a sweater, neatly folded.
Suzuka shifted slightly, fingers fidgeting.
"You like stories that hurt a little," she said quietly. "But keep going anyway."
Haruka shrugged, a small smile crossing her lips.
"And you always forget to dress warm," she added. "So—balance."
I looked between the book and the sweater, then at them.
…Yeah. That tracked perfectly.
"Thanks, you two," I said, feeling my lips curl into a small smile. Then I handed them their gifts.
Haruka tore open hers first. A lipstick set. She froze, staring at it for a moment, then let out a soft gasp and blushed.
"No way… the strawberry one is my favorite," she whispered, cheeks burning pink.
Suzuka hesitated for a moment, then shyly unwrapped her gift. A red beret.
Her fingers traced the fabric gently, almost as if testing it for fragility. A faint smile appeared on her lips, cheeks tinged with pink.
"It's… really nice," she murmured, voice soft. "Thank you."
"Merry Christmas, Suzuka, Haruka," I said, opening my arms. They both practically leapt into me, and I landed on my ass on the couch, tangled up with them.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I truly enjoyed Christmas.