December 12, 1899—Mion and Naomi were dozing, sharing the same bed, beneath a thick comforter. Their chests pressed close, arms draped over each other's waists, hands close to their hips, and legs entwined, leaving no space for the cold air to seep in.
While from the kitchen, Futaba kept yelling to rouse them. It was a quarter past twelve in the afternoon, and they were still groggy and starving. "You both have been waking up late, haven't you?! Wake up this instant!"
Naomi felt so exhausted that she didn't bother responding. Mion was no different; they both poked and pinched each other's waists, hoping the other would respond, but neither stirred, while Futaba's patience had reached its limit. He grew angrier, yelled again, and louder, "I'm done with you two! Mion! Get out of bed right now, or I'm going to have to beat you both!"
Mion groaned. Suddenly Naomi pinched her waist so hard that she yelped, clutching her side in pain. Naomi ducked her head under the comforter. Futaba's voice kept interrupting. Mion retorted, "Father! Stop yelling at me! What's wrong with you? I'm getting up now!" As she spoke, she threw a rock-hard fist at Naomi's head. Naomi yelped, crawled out from under the comforter, and yanked Mion's ponytail. In retaliation, Mion grabbed the cushion and hit Naomi with it, snapping, "You're a bitch!"
Suddenly, the telephone on the hallway's plank walls began ringing loudly—an incoming call. Futaba was doing the dishes from yesterday. He entered their room and gestured for them to pick up the call. Mion's dizziness had faded after the scuffle, so she got up, picked up the call, and dragged the receiver, tethered by its long, coiled cord, back to her room. She flopped onto the bed on her chest, yawned, and mumbled, "Who is it?"
"Peace be upon you, I'm Manabu." He was speaking from Taiju's home telephone. "I was wondering if you guys would join us for a hangout right away."
Mion perked up, "Yes, we will! We're bored anyway." Naomi gestured 'agreed' as well. But Futaba intervened immediately, "No! You don't get to decide! It's yes when I say yes! I hope you didn't forget about today's shopping plans for winter, Ms. Yes-ma'am!"
Mion's eyes flashed as she glanced at the calendar, realizing—today—they had planned to go Christmas shopping. Mion and Naomi had been insisting that Futaba take them Christmas shopping, which wasn't possible until December due to his demanding job. He had managed to carve out time for his daughters today. Futaba snatched the receiver and said, "Manabu, they won't be able to make it today. They've been insisting I take them to the movies for days, and since Christmas is near, we have to finish our winter shopping as well. I'm sorry, boy! They won't be able to make it today."
That's very unfortunate—Manabu thought. He apologized for bothering them. "I sincerely apologize, Sir! Peace be upon you."
"Peace be upon you too. And Manabu, you may address me as uncle." Futaba said. As the call ended, he turned around and found that Mion and Naomi were still rolling on their bed. "That's enough!" Futaba jerked upright, yanked the comforter away, and tossed them both off the bed. He then pulled back the curtain and pushed the barred windows wider, letting the snowy breeze in. They shivered like frightened squirrels, squealing and rushing out of the room. In her haste, Naomi slipped and fell on her bum. 'Ouchy, my ass…'
They both took a warm bath together and changed out of their pajamas. Mion wore a white sweater over a collared blue shirt with a white muffler tied around her neck. She shampooed, washed, and dried her baby-pink hair, and donned a black knit beanie to warm her head and ears. Her teeth were still chattering, and her hands were freezing. It was negative eight degrees today.
Naomi wore a long, thick jacket-style dress with heavy clothing underneath and a muffler around her neck, along with red woolen earmuffs, which smelled like roses.
They spent hours primping in front of the mirror, much to Futaba's annoyance—they had wasted over an hour just getting ready. It was nearly two pm, and they finally claimed to be ready. Futaba vowed this would be his last outing with them.
They locked all the doors before heading for the stairs. They lived on the fifth floor of the apartment building; there were two scheduled guards for the complex. Security had been tight ever since the serious incident involving Futaba a few years ago.
Futaba drove his car; Mion and Naomi sat in the back seat. Their initial plan was to catch the first showing of Daisies Diary, which they missed because they left so late. The next show was two hours later, so they decided to complete their clothing and other shopping beforehand.
Futaba was looking for a space in the mall's parking lot, while Mion and Naomi had already alighted, with Futaba catching up later. They both browsed shops, reaching the third floor women's section, and split up. Naomi always gravitated toward bold, sexy things, while Mion was more reserved, tidy, and simpler. She admired a sleek black leather purse, undeniably elegant, but expensive. Meanwhile, Naomi was picking out a bra for herself.
All of a sudden, on the ground floor, a thief had snatched a woman's purse, slicing its strap with a knife, and caused a serious injury to her elbow. She screamed at the top of her lungs. The thief bolted through the crowd as the woman's fiancé chased him. Futaba, along with the crowd, tried to block his way, while Mion and Naomi rushed down immediately after spotting Futaba.
Just as panic spread, a man, towering over one hundred and ninety centimeters, with a thick beard and slightly white hair from aging, swiftly intervened. He grabbed the thief by the throat, twisting his arm from carpus to radius, and slammed him to the tiled floor with practiced ease. The purse and knife slipped from the thief's grasp and were retrieved in seconds, returned to its owner. Everyone around was stunned but quickly helped the man restrain the thief, pinning him down until the police arrived and apprehended the thief. The grateful woman admired him deeply; her fiancé thanked him profusely. Curiously, the woman asked his name. With a deep voice and commanding presence, he stated his name—Daima Leonhard.
The woman's fiancé offered him a thousand Das[1] as a reward, which Daima reluctantly accepted after their insistence. Mion was attracted by his towering height. She stepped forward and asked, "Uncle, how tall are you?" (It was the most common question Daima was ever asked.)
"I'm one hundred and ninety centimeters—exactly." Daima said. The answer was very surprising to Mion. Taiju, at five feet eleven inches, was the tallest she knew, but six feet two inches was rare in Feropia. He didn't stand out just for his height; his appearance was very attractive. His genetics defied his age. His eyes were sharp and haunting, yet he seemed kind, not intimidating.
"What's your name, young lady?" Daima asked her. Mion was only able to state her name, but then Naomi interrupted saying, "It's time for the movie. Let's go!"
Mion apologized for leaving the conversation so abruptly, which was considered rude according to Feropian culture. Daima didn't mind it, since she was clearly in a rush no. Futaba also apologizes to him for their rudeness and offered a traditional valediction—'Peace be upon you.'
"Alright, young lady, have a great Christmas. Mr. Futaba, see you soon…" as Daima walked off.
But something felt strange to Futaba…
After the movie—Twenty past Five O'clock—
The trio left the theater chatting. It was a great film! Almost everyone cried, including Futaba; he cried in remembrance of his wife. (Mrs. Futaba—Naomi's mother—had died about five years ago when Naomi and Mion were quite young.)
After completing shopping—They wandered the snowy streets, on their way to the car parking, while also enjoying the chill of the winter night under the visible moon. Futaba, weighed down with the girls' shopping bags, trudged behind like a pack mule. Mion and Naomi walked far ahead, discussing plans for the upcoming winter days. But then something sparked in Naomi's mind; out of curiosity, she asked, "Do you have any other plans for this winter?"
Mion thought for a moment. "Not really, just spending Christmas day with you and my other companions."
Naomi screamed in her thoughts, furious with herself. 'I'm the stupid one for asking such shit! But I was seriously expecting something better.' She decided to approach it more directly, "I mean something like, are you looking for someone special?...I'm embarrassing myself…"
Mion frowned, unsure what she meant by 'looking for someone special.' Naomi sighed inwardly—Mion had liked Manabu since childhood but was too shy to confess. Naomi had tried countless methods, but Mion turned out to be so hopeless, making Naomi look stupid instead for even trying.
But suddenly, a mischievous idea sparked in her devious mind. She decided to push Mion's complex emotions a little further. She stuck close to Mion, shoulder to shoulder, "Well, I have a plan." Naomi began, feigning shyness, "A really special plan set for Christmas."
Mion's interest was piqued. What kind of special plan? She wondered. Naomi pretended to be shy, then blurted, "I can't hold it in anymore. I am planning on confessing my feelings to Manabu, and that I want him deeply."
Mion's steps froze, her face paling. 'Eh?' was all she could manage. Naomi smirked inwardly but tried to keep her expression neutral.
"You love Manabu? Why did you never tell me before? And what do you mean by you want him deeply!?" Mion stammered.
"I meant 'so in love' by 'deeply,' bitch—do you want me to punch you in your pretty face!?" Naomi harrumphed, then continued. "Because I was embarrassed to tell anyone, but now I've finally made up my mind that this Christmas, I'm telling him and Dad about my feelings!"
Mion's stomach twisted into knots. She didn't know what to do. She watched Naomi walking away; her thoughts raced. She was falling into the trap. After a few minutes, summoning all her courage, she finally confessed—
"Listen, Naomi. Don't hate me for it, but I want Manabu deeply. And I also mean 'love' by that 'deeply'."
"Huh?! What?! Why didn't you tell me that earlier?!" Naomi tilted her head, pretending to be annoyed. Mion's face turned fever-red. "I didn't know you liked him." She stammered excuses, but Naomi brushed it off. "You should have told me earlier. Now what?! You want me to sacrifice my love? Do you even know I've imagined my whole future with him. My first time!—Okay, this shit was too much."
Mion's eyes reddened, tears welling up from embarrassment. "I don't know, Naomi, what should I do?!" She began hiccupping as she spoke.
"Stop crying like a baby; it's no use crying!" Naomi yelled. She then pretended to think and then she proposed, "Here's the idea. How about both of us confess to Manabu on Christmas Day? Let's see who he accepts—deal?"
Mion, hesitant, found herself agreeing despite her uncertainty. "That's a deal," she muttered and began walking again. Naomi, instead, was hopping like a rabbit, triumphant. Her thoughts were smug and victorious. It was decided they would confess together. Love is a complex emotion, and Naomi was a little frightened, hoping no sudden twist would ruin her plan…
Feropian Interior Investigation Units—11:00 P.M.
Investigator Kenzo, surrounded by paperwork and colleagues, each file adding weight to his already burdened shoulders, was deep in thought about a 'very recent' tragedy. Suddenly, the telephone rang; it was a call he had been expecting hours ago. The call pulled him out of his thoughts; he answered it. "Peace be upon you, this is Kenzo of the Feropian Interior Investigation Units!"
A voice on the other end whispered something…
"Yes, sir!" Kenzo's anxiety surged, sweat beading on his forehead. "We are working on that right now. We just need a bit more time."
The staff, noticing his shift in demeanor, exchanged looks. Kenzo was always composed, but now tension radiated from him, making them wonder who he was talking to.
"We will exterminate him; he won't be able to escape. Sir, are you sure it will be alright?—I sincerely apologize for asking this question!"
("Be assured that the information shouldn't leak out there. Do whatever it takes to accomplish the task you're given.")
Kenzo assured that they would manage everything precisely. The call abruptly ended. He had never been so stressed before. He dialed a number, and after a few rings, the recipient answered. "Hello, Leon? One of the members from CPUS-Units called just now! What should we do now?!" Kenzo spoke with urgency.
"Erm…Did they? It will take a little longer than we expected. We've got a problem here, and we have to handle it first. There is unfortunate news. That girl didn't survive. I felt so sorry for her."
"I'm aware of that. Poor girl, she had to suffer for so long until she died. She lost her father too. I don't get why he would do that. It's so messed up! Why did the organization have me doing it all in the first place! I wish someone else had to do this job."
Leon responded, "I don't know either. He is now under the organization's sight and hit list. And about the Santa matter, we will handle it later. Take a rest; I'll see what I can do."
"I understand your situation," Kenzo responded with a sigh, "things are getting out of hand. Peace be upon you…"
The call ended…
[1] Das is Feropian currency