[Fanfic, 100% OJ] The Hearth

Genre: Slice of Life

Length: 800 words

B/D: This piece was actually done a long time ago, for an OJ fanzine that was being produced to support a charitable concern. Quite a few people contributed, including popular or well-known artists in the fan community, and there were also a few written pieces (an interview with Honos that had been translated, and an article on Flying Red Barrel). Towards the end of the book, you might have found this story.

Due to difficulties in distribution that were exacerbated by the emergence of COVID-19, the physical copies took quite a while to ship, and have only just started to come through for most of the contributors (although I believe the e-zine version shipped on time). I didn't want to publish it until the actual books started to arrive, but now I feel like I can share the piece.

While the project had its difficulties, I definitely appreciate having had the opportunity to work on it, and it's the first time I've had my work feature in a physical volume, which is a special feeling. The length, by the way, was to make sure it fit on a page or page and a half. The setting is also slightly different and more in-line with canon than my regular work, since it's not as connected to the story world I've built up; you may notice some slight differences in characterisation, although my usual loopy Sora creeps in.

“Now. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry… Christmas.”

“No, no, sis. It needs more energy!”

Sora blinks. Energy is not something she has a lot of. She’s only been awake in this world for a little while, and her body still feels lethargic. She slept for thousands of years, and if she’s honest, she could bear to sleep a little more. Just five more minutes. Or five more months. Either would be nice.

But Hime has enlisted to her to help with the Christmas festivities, and that means there’s no sleep to be had. They gave her a little red hat that keeps slipping off her head, they hung up a sprig of mistletoe and told her not to stand underneath it for any reason, and now Hime is teaching her ancient, magical Christmas chants that will summon the spirit of Santa to bless them with goodwill and peace on Earth. Earth already seems pretty peaceful to her, but Suguri and Hime seem very excited about it, so she’s playing along.

The best thing about Christmas, so far as Sora can tell, is that everybody is getting together for a party – and that means that Saki is going to come, with platters of tiny snacks. Tiny snacks, she’s decided, are the best kind of snack, because they’re quick and efficient to consume. She should be able to eat a lot of them before Iru can really get started, which is good, because once Iru starts she won’t stop until the snacks are exhausted. Party snack strategy is very important.

“Well, that shall have to do,” Hime says ruefully. “I’m sure we can persuade Kae to boost us up in the energy department.”

Sora nods, and her focus drifts to more practical concerns. She’s been excused from giving presents this year, because she wouldn’t know what to get anybody, but she’s been put on firewood duty to make up for it. They should have enough to last for a few more days, so she feeds another chunk into the fire and prods it with a poker. She wants the house to be warm for when Suguri gets back.

When Suguri does return, there are still flakes of snow trapped in her silver hair as she sweeps into the room. A long scarf, an early present from Hime, trails behind her like the tail of a comet. She says little – as Suguri often does – but the relief on her face as she bobs down to warm her hands at the fireplace speaks for itself.

“Welcome home.”

“It’s good to be home.”

It is a greeting that has become a tradition between them; the words never change, only who says what. In some ways, Sora thinks, it is a prayer – a gesture of thanks that home exists in this moment, when it didn’t before and it might not again. If nothing else it is comforting and familiar, a routine that fills her with warmth.

“...Did you manage to get all the presents?” she asks.

“…almost. It was hard work,” Suguri admits. “My family suddenly got so much bigger, all at once. It was hard to pick out what to get for everybody. The only ones left are you and Hime.”

Sora leans back. A present for Hime? It’s a tricky proposition. She wonders briefly if it makes her a bad sister not to know. But the truth is that Hime cares about people and experiences, not trinkets.

“…what I’m trying to say is, what would you like for Christmas, Sora?” Suguri asks.

The answer is easy, effortless, like drawing a circle in the sky. “Nothing,” she says. “You’re not allowed to give me anything.”

“...oh?”

“Mm. You already gave me enough. This beautiful world, with a blue sky to play in. And a home. I don’t need any more gifts. It’s enough.” When she says it, she’s certain it’s true. The air is still in the wake of her conviction.

“…Well. I could say the same thing. Without you, I wouldn’t have had time to be born, or restore the planet. We owe you a lot.”

“Oh, my. How noble you both are,” Hime says cheerily, sitting beside them. “As for me, I know what I’d like for Christmas.”

“Ooh.”

“Another year with you both. And the same again next year. Until you run out of patience, or we run out of years.”

For a moment, they are all quiet, and happy. But, Sora realises, there is one thing they haven’t addressed.

“Hime, what are you getting us?” she asks.

“Bath sets,” Hime answers immediately. “If I’m spending another year with you, then I want you both to smell delicious.”

“…how uninspired.”

They laugh together, and spread out in the warmth of the fire. Christmas will be busy this year – and for many years to come.