Quiet Christmas Eve- Haruka+Michiru
It never snowed in Tokyo. Well, perhaps not never--a few days a year they got a light dusting that rapidly turned grey and muddy and hideous, all the city covered with evidence of its grime. It was, quite frankly, better without the reminder.
Michiru was not given to any kind of magic, Christmas or otherwise, and though time and love had softened her, certain things still remained true. There was a part of her mildly relieved that her children were all out of the house this year, finally, on Christmas Eve. M.A. with her husband, Kimi off on a premed winter program to try and boost her already-brilliant chances of a well-regarded international medical school.
To top off the sense of winter cheer, Mina had decided to take Rei to Bali for Christmas, whether or not she would enjoy relaxation, with the promise of shoving her cell phone in certain orifices if she didn’t stop working for a few days. Not in a sexy way, she had clarified.
So it was the two them in a house that felt rambling in these quiet moments, with nothing in particular to do on a Christmas Eve. Michiru had long unburdened herself of the requirement to attend most family functions, and while Haruka had insisted upon calling the girls and making sure they were having a truly magical time (though what sort of magic could be had in a dorm in Cambridge, Michiru was unsure) she was now contentedly snuggled on the sofa, surfing through a bevy of movie options.
It had been so long since Michiru had no demands in particular upon her. It was, in a way, it’s own sort of suffocating burden. All that freedom and nothing to do with it. Since she was a child, there had been expectations, and she had followed all of them. With her children, there had been reasons to participate in all the things she never cared for, finding joy in the joy they felt. Now, she was free to do as she wished, on Christmas.
She was not entirely sure what that could be.
“Babe!” Haruka called to her from the living room, “Would you bring me that box of cookies on the counter?” She affected a sweet whine. “I’m already on the couch.”
Michiru smiled, but picked up the pink box of cookies, overfrosted and smelling of a newly-stocked bath and body works. She considered a moment, and then grabbed a bottle of wine from holder, nimbly balancing the box on her other arm. Haruka was vassilating between two options, both of which looked to be some horrifyingly cheerful claymation affair. Michiru set the box down on her lap, and Haruka smiled warmly.
“Thanks!” She opened the cookie box and looked at it seriously.
“Would you mind terribly if I joined you?”
Haruka looked up, eyes sparkling. “Of course not! I’ll scooch.”
“Oh, don’t bother,” Michiru turned quickly, “I will manage quite easily. If you’ll allow me a moment.”
She went upstairs, quickly pulling on a pair of silk pajamas. Maybe it was silly, the notion of watching some ridiculous movie and smelling Haruka’s terrible shortening based nightmares, but Michiru had no Christmas traditions that belonged to her, and so, there was no reason not to create her own. Mincing quickly down the stairs, she took two wine glasses out of the cabinet and headed back over to the couch.
“May I suggest cremant as a pairing?” She snuggled in next to Haruka and handed her the bottle.
“Oh, a very good year.” Haruka grinned as she deftly removed the cap, and poured her the bubbly.
The wine was not vintaged, but Michiru did not see the need to bring it up. Haruka began to explain the intense complexities of the children’s cartoon on the television, and Michiru nuzzled into her. Years, they had been going forward, and the years had been happy, but here, in this moment, she wanted nothing more than to enjoy the slow passage of time, that paused breath everything seems to take the night before Christmas.
It never snowed in Tokyo. It was never anything but a way of framing the dirt of a city. And yet, as the two of them snuggled in a quiet and empty house, big flakes began to fall. The city would be shut down for days.
Perhaps there was magic in Christmas, after all.