Christmas at Hopes Peak Academy had a way of making even the most impossible people look almost ordinary.
Snow pressed softly against the tall windows, whitening the courtyard outside and turning the glass into mirrors for the warm light inside. In the common room, the tree in the corner stood crooked under a mountain of mismatched ornaments, ribbon, and paper stars that had clearly been made by several different hands and several different levels of enthusiasm. Someone had hung tinsel too high for Hifumi to reach, which only made him complain louder as he pointed at it from the couch.
“I maintain,” Hifumi said, dramatically clutching his chest, “that this is a deliberate test of my devotion to the festive spirit.”
“It is a test of your balance,” Celestia replied, neat as ever, while carefully arranging a tray of tea cups. “And you are failing.”
“That’s harsh,” Leon muttered from the arm of a chair, where he was spinning a candy cane like it was a drumstick. “I think he’s doing fine. Christmas is supposed to be chaotic.”
“Only if you have no standards,” Byakuya said from nearby, though he was still helping more than anyone would have expected, straightening a stack of wrapped gifts with precise, almost offended care.
Aoi leaned over the back of the sofa, peering at the tree. “We should put the star on top! Sakura, you can do it.”
Sakura, who had been standing with quiet patience near the center of the room, gave a small nod. “If you want.”
Aoi beamed. “I do want!” Across from them, Kiyotaka was making a list on a clipboard while Mondo watched him with his arms crossed and a look that said he was both annoyed and completely content. “You do realize,” Mondo said, “it’s almost Christmas right? Not a midterm.”
“And yet,” Kiyotaka replied, without looking up, “someone must ensure the snacks are counted, the decorations are placed with dignity, and the schedule for the evening proceeds properly.”
Mondo snorted. “You and your schedules.”
Taka’s expression softened just a little. “You and your complaining.”
For a moment, the two of them just looked at each other.
Then Mondo scratched the back of his neck and muttered, “...You been workin’ too hard. Sit down after this, yeah?”
Kiyotaka blinked, then nodded far too quickly. “Yes. Of course. I shall.”
Near the fireplace, Chihiro sat cross-legged with a string of fairy lights draped over their lap, trying to untangle them with careful fingers while Mukuro stood beside them, silent and watchful, handing over the loose ends whenever Chihiro asked. Every so often, Chihiro would smile up at her in a way that made Mukuro look almost unsure what to do with their kindness, as if she was still getting used to the idea that being seen could be gentle.
“Thank you,” Chihiro said softly.
Mukuro gave a tiny shrug. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Chihiro insisted, and then, after a small pause, added, “It makes the lights easier.”
Mukuro looked away, but her ears were a little pink.
Yasuhiro, sprawled upside down in an armchair with a mug in his hands, stared at the ceiling and announced, “I’m getting a vision.”
“Of what?” Sayaka asked from the hallway without missing a beat.
Yasuhiro squinted dramatically. “A future where someone puts me in charge of holiday planning.”