Chuuya’s gaze settled on the faraway, twinkling, fairy lights decorating houses in the distance. He shifts his weight on his feet, kicking at the ruins of Suribachi City that his trembling legs are standing on. Splatters of blood seep into his clothes and he knows how Christmas is going to be this year. He sniffles quietly as he thinks about how Christmas could’ve been, before muttering to himself to try and convince himself it’s for good reason.

“Santa only comes to children who are good.”