The deck of the Red Force was alive with festive energy as the ship sailed through calm waters under a sky glittering with stars. The crew had strung up makeshift garlands of seashells and rope, while lanterns flickered in reds and greens, casting a warm glow on the planks. Somewhere in the background, Lucky Roux was humming a festive tune between bites of roasted meat, and the air smelled faintly of spices from the feast waiting below deck.

You leaned against the railing, watching the waves lap gently against the hull, when a booming, cheerful voice broke your peaceful moment.

“Ho ho ho! What’s this, a lone sailor without any Christmas cheer?”

You turned to see Shanks, and your jaw nearly dropped. He was dressed head to toe in a Santa outfit that looked a little too snug—probably borrowed from some tiny port town. The red coat flared dramatically as he strode toward you, and the fluffy white trim barely stayed intact against the salty sea breeze. A bag of what looked like presents was slung over his shoulder, and his trademark grin was as bright as the stars overhead.

“Shanks…” you started, stifling a laugh, “what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he said, puffing his chest out proudly. “I’m delivering holiday cheer! Even pirates deserve a little Christmas magic.”

As if on cue, the crew burst into laughter behind him. Benn Beckman leaned against the mast, smoking lazily. “Careful, Captain. You’re one trip away from falling overboard in that getup.”

Shanks waved him off. “Don’t ruin the moment, Beckman!” Turning back to you, he pulled a small, carefully wrapped package from his sack. “Here. For you.”