#beymas

He felt nervous now handing over the small box, suddenly extremely self-conscious about the little figurine delicately wrapped up inside. The secret Santa seemed like a fun idea until he had discovered who his partner was.

Tala. 

Lee would have taken anyone over any of the members of that team. He was surprised they were even taking part in the first place, no doubt strongarmed or subtly blackmailed into it by Mr Dickenson. A pale hand took the box from him but Tala continued to stare at him with little to no expression, it was creepy. They stood in silence for a few moments, Tala holding the box but making no motion to open it. Simply holding onto it without a word like he didn't quite know what to do with himself either. Well, at least Tala seemed to be as uncomfortable as him in this situation. 

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Mariah huffed crossing her arms finally getting tired of watching this whole awkward exchange. Tala’s eyes flicked up to look at her for a moment before looking down to study the small box in his hand. Much to Mariah's annoyance, he turned his attention back to the room as he surveyed what everyone else was doing. Opening and giving gifts to each other, not a single hand was empty even that of his teammates who had split up to hand off their own halves of the exchange. 

Lee felt a lump in his throat, Tala dragging this out more than necessary was just making this exchange a thousand times more awkward than it already was. Part of him just wanted to rip open the box and shove it in Tala's face to get it over and done with but now, finally face to face with him he suddenly felt his gift was ridiculous. Its homemade nature suddenly felt embarrassing.

Tala seemingly tired of Mariah’s fussing opened the lid, tucking it under the base as he moved aside the layers of tissue paper that seemed silent in the uproar of the festivities around them. Pale fingers plucked out the small wooden shape pulling it up in front of his face to inspect. Lee swallowed and looked away self-consciousness taking over him. 

The figure was small, only about nine centimetres or so, carved from a solid chunk of wood. When lee had drawn Tala’s name he had no idea what the other man would want. At least if it had been Bryan he could have got a knife and been done with it but the elusive captain of the Russian team was straight up a mystery to him. He had looked all over at many things nothing even remotely caught his interest. He could have phoned it in with something generic but at the same time, his pride would never have allowed that. 

It had finally come to him when he was fussing over it trying desperately to rack his brain for an idea. He had been sat down whittling away at a small piece of wood, a calming hobby he had picked up the past few years. If there was one thing Tala seemed to care about it was wolborg, all of the bladers had a fondness and affinity with their bitbeats, so it was a safe bet. 

His first attempt was pretty but wrong. The beast was sat down tail wrapped around its body, the best sort of pose for this kind of craft, it made it strong and solid leaving no small parts that could easily snap. But the more he looked at it the more it didn't seem right. The wolf looked passive, almost friendly nothing like wolborg or its master. 

His second attempt was better. The figure was standing up but again it didn't seem right, its head was looking up and while not passive anymore its body language didn't convey what he felt it should. It looked more like a pet dog looking up at its master definitely not the feeling he got from wolborg.

On his third attempt he had thrown his normal techniques out the window and just went for it. The beast's body was in motion, twisted like it was about to start running after its prey, its legs each in a different position sprawled out and separate from the others. The wolf's head was pointed down but not in submission as its mouth was open and growling showing off its large fangs. Its tail up and alert just like the beast's signature embedded icicles that seemed to almost form wings on it’s back. It looked dangerous and wild just like it should, unfortunately, this left the figure itself extremely fragile. Pretty much every detail on this thing was a weak point, only a small amount of pressure would snap it in multiple places. It felt right however, compared to the other two while it wasn't as pretty or aesthetic but it felt truer to the actual beast.

He had no idea why he had even put so much effort into this, and now he all but regretted it.

“It’s beautiful, thank you” 

Lee almost couldn’t believe his ears, he expected Tala to scoff at the thing or at least make a smart little comment as the redhead often did. He looked up seeing Tala with an unreadable expression on his face, Fingers delicately turning the wolf over in his hand looking at the small details Lee had carved into the wood grain.

“Uh I-...You're welcome” He mumbled out, suddenly more embarrassed than ever but under that, he felt a little smug at actually getting some kind of approval from the redhead. Mariah clapped him on the back and said something about wanting to give her own gift now before promptly dragging him off. He couldn’t help but look back at Tala, he was still turning the small wooden figure over in his hands with an almost faraway look in his eyes. 

Growing up, Christmas for Taro had been a calm and festive affair. A Christmas cake shared with a highschool girlfriend here, a steaming bucket of chicken with his parents the year before he went to spend his first Christmas with Judy there, but, for the most part, Christmas represented a delightful but smaller celebration that he enjoyed but didn’t think much of. 

Until, of course, that first Christmas with Judy in the United States two years after they’d gotten together, when the steaming bucket of chicken replaced with casserole dishes that were  somehow always too hot to touch no matter how long they’d been out, plates of cookies of shapes and sizes and colours that he had never heard of precariously balanced on the coffee table in the living room, and the crooning voice of a singer that Taro had mostly only heard of in sneaking into every room of Judy’s aunt’s house. 

Taro had loved it, and as their family began to grow and taking a baby on a plane seemed less and less appealing, the twinkling lights of Aunt Terry’s Ohio home had crept into the apartment over the Mizuhara’s hobby shop. 

—

The party was in full swing, Taro, Max, and Judy having spent most of the night before twisting strings of lights around lamps, laying garlands across the mantle, and slowly curating the evening’s festive playlist, and it had been there thatTaro had solved the one qualm he’d had about this whole event—his secret Santa gift.

Arranged by Steve, perhaps the most festive Beyblader of the bunch, each of the party participants had been assigned someone to buy a small gift for. Nothing serious, just a small knick knack or something to open, but Taro had taken pause. If he had wanted, he could have just pulled something up from the shop upstairs. Any one of the team would be more than happy with a blade upgrade; he had reconsidered quickly, though, because as grateful as they would be, their organization had more than enough funding to provide them with whatever hardware the team would need—personalized hardware, no less, and Taro couldn’t help but feel that while his Secret Santa knick knack was meant to be just that, a knick knack to bring a few moments of entertainment to fulfill a holiday tradition, he couldn’t help but feel that he could put in at least a little more effort. 

He had drawn Rick’s name, perhaps the trickiest of the bunch, as despite being on the team for a few years now, he was still the newest arrival.  Had he warmed up slightly? Yes, one could even, perhaps surprisingly, say that he could be pleasant to be around. Taro had briefly felt hesitant about having Rick on the team. He was not inclined to take direction, he was brash, and he had made being unlikeable part of his personality for long enough that it had become just that—his whole personality, early on, at least. But Judy had insisted that he was talented and that while difficult to work with, working with the PPB would be beneficial for not only the PPB, but for Rick as well, and, admittedly, she had been right.

The problem that Taro now had with Rick were not the consequences of Rick being too big for his boots. Not that he wasn’t too big for his boots—there was a going theory that there would never be a pair of boots big enough for the ego that was Rick Anderson (something that his teammates attributed to everything being bigger in Texas). No, the problem was that Rick had few “easy” hobbies. If he hadn’t met the PPB team before and was only meeting them for the first time today, he would have had an easy enough go at picking up gifts. Michael? Cap from the local Nippon Professional Baseball team. Steve? Sumo figurine. Emily? Fresh tennis balls. Eddy? The B.League had just released posters, and Taro knew that Eddy had taken to following Niigata Albirex BB in the many years that he had now been coming to Japan for tournaments. 

But Rick was a harder nut to crack, and Taro had only just come to accept his gift of a pair of tinted sunglasses that Rick could wear while sauntering around causing chaos at the PPB facilities while he was flipping through the shelves of records, CDs, and cassettes that he and Judy had accumulated over the years while curating a mix of Bing Crosby and Dolly Parton for the night’s festivities.

Taro thumbed through the shelves, flipping past enka albums that he had acquired after cleaning out his parents house after they had passed away and Whitney Houston’s first album, which Judy had played to the point that the record’s sleeve had started to split on the edges. He continued flipping, humming bits of songs that popped into his head as he thumbed before stopping. 

Hurry Up Mode. 

Taro readjusted his body so that he wasn’t sitting on his knees, pulling out the jewel case and crossing his legs. His eyes widened as he ran his hand over the black and white face of Araki, and all Taro could think about was Rick’s boom box.

—

The conditions of the hand off could only be described as a Christmas miracle. While not all of the gifts had been exchanged as of yet, Taro was aware that the time he had to give Rick his gift without it looking like he was avoiding doing so was running thin. He wasn’t nervous. He was a man in 40s, and he wouldn’t give a second thought to the snark of a young man. But he had a sneaking suspicion that Rick wasn’t the fluffy type, and opening a gift from your manager’s husband and friend’s mom in front of everyone at the party and engaging in niceties wasn’t likely high on Rick’s list. 

Taro, on his second glass of wine, had made his way to the patent-pending “music station” because Jingle Bell Rock had played three times in a row, and there was only so much rockin’ around the Christmas tree that could be done at once. 

It seemed that Rick had also had the same idea, because that’s where Taro found him, sat on the floor with a napkin of Judy grandmother's own patent-pending “Christmas Crack”, a sugary but perhaps oddly named amalgamation of graham crackers, m&m’s, chocolate chips—among a number of other things, some of which resulted in one of Judy’s older family members breaking a tooth and Taro losing a filling. 

“Bublé not doing it for you?” Taro asked. 

Rick didn’t turn around, continuing to look at the back of Hibori Misora album he had pulled from the self even though there was no way that Rick could know what was written on the back. “Well, whether he is or not, ‘tis the season.” 

Taro sat down next to Rick, looking at the album in the young man’s hands. “That was my mother’s favourite singer.” 

“Yeah?” Rick grunted, probably uninterested but being polite enough. “Is she yours too?” 

Taro took another sip of his wine. “Who's your mother’s favourite singer?” “Barry Manilow. Why?”

“Is he your favourite singer?” 

“Absolutely fucking not.” Rick snipped while scowling. 

Taro chuckled, “you have your answer, then.” 

Rick put the album back with surprising gentleness, making sure that the edges of the sleeve didn’t bump the top of the bottom of the shelf before he began scanning the albums again, this time pulling out a well-loved copy of ABBA’s Super Trouper. 

“I didn’t realize that you and Ms. Tate had such an eclectic taste in music.” 

“We used to have a lot of fun!” Taro leaned forward, sliding out a Bruce Springsteen album. “Judy gave me this the first Christmas we spent together. It was the first time she couldn’t go back to the States for the holidays, so we had the Japanese Christmas special. She had her brother send it over. If I recall correctly, I think it got here sometime closer to New Years. ” 

Taro handed the album over to Rick, who took and started scanning the back, muttering the names of the songs under his breath, many of them seeming familiar to him. “And what is that Japanese Christmas special?” 

“Kentucky Fried Chicken, of course!” 

Rick’s eyes were wide, looking at Taro for the first time since their conversation had begun, before starting to laugh. 

“Poultry is poultry,” Taro chuckled, taking the album back from Rick.

“And you? Did you get Ms. Tate into….” Rick paused for a second, thinking carefully, “Hibori Misora?” He had hit each syllable with care, before raising an eyebrow at Taro in a way that looked like he wanted to know if he’d said it right. 

Taro raised his eyebrows back, surprised that Rick had taken care to remember the enka singer and not just blast through the interaction by calling her “old what’s her name” or something, letting out a guffaw. “I already told you. My mother liked Hibori Misora…I took Judy to see these guys, though.” He pulled out the album with Akari’s face plastered onto the front and handed it to Rick. “Buck-Tick?” Rick read the giant white letters on the cover. “Who are these guys?” 

Taro scoffed, “only one of the best Japanese rock bands of all time. 22 albums? Almost all of them on the top 10? I thought you were a bit of a rock connaisseur, or, that’s what my son says, at least.” 

Rick opened the jewel case, looking at Taro for permission to take out the booklet from the front. 

Taro nodded again and let Rick get to work skimming over the black and white pictures of giant hair and sour faces. “I had both the vinyl and the CD. Two extra tracks on that thing, you know.” 

Rick carefully put the booklet back into the case. “They look pretty hardcore.” He raised an eyebrow, “and Ms. Tate likes them?”

Taro turned to look at his wife, who was doing her best to stop Steve from taking plates and dishes into the kitchen, insisting that he sit and enjoy himself. “She likes that I like them. She’s more of a Whitney Houston type of gal.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Oh, we know. We’ve all walked in on her singing ‘I’ll Always Love you’ so many times that she doesn’t even get embarrassed anymore.” 

Taro left out a hearty laugh, “sounds about right.”

Rick handed the album back to Taro, but Taro raised his hand to stop him. Rick raised an eyebrow.

“Let me know how you like them next time you’re in town.”

“What?” He looked up at Taro.

“One of the things I’ve loved about being with Judy is how much both of our worlds have expanded. I think you’ll like this, and it’s always nice to add to your collection.” 

“You’re giving this to me?” 

Taro smiled, “Merry Christmas, Rick.” 

Rick stuttered, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Mizuhara, sir.” He bowed his head slightly, a little awkwardly, having seen people do it before during his time in Japan but not really understanding how to do it or when. It had just felt right. 

Rick paused for a minute. “Hey, Mr. Mizuhara?” He looked past Taro at Judy. 

“Yes?” 

“You said she liked that you liked these guys, right?” 

Taro looked back at Judy before looking back at Rick. This time it was him who was a bit confused. “Yes?” 

“Then maybe she won’t mind a little Buck-Tick during this little soiree.” 

Taro stood up, reaching down to take the CD from Rick. 

“You know what, Rick?” I think you’re right. 

Crocheting was the easy part. The hard part was knowing if Michael would like it. 

Mathilda had tried to enlist Emily for help, who had tried her best to help Mathilda with her project. With a little sleuthing, mainly sneaking into the men’s locker room and then Michael’s locker at the gym while he was training, making the size, and most importantly the sleeve length of his letter jacket, she had managed to pass on information to Mathilda. 

Two weeks of meticulous crocheting later, it was ready. A cute little brown reindeer with a bright red nose, resembling the fabled Rudolph, sat on a field of white snow, little green birch trees behind him, all set on the deep red she’d chosen as to be the base colour of the sweater.  

Mathilda had barely spoken more than a sentence to Michael, and everything she knew about him had all come from Emily, which was decidedly not enough information to go on to select a functional gift for him, and she had decided that making one was probably the best route to take. 

She also decided to get him a back up gift, a bottle of whiskey, just in case Michael didn’t like the sweater.

She wasn’t quite sure whether or not Michael would like the sweater so as a back-up, she picked up a bottle of whiskey on the way so even if he didn’t like it, she’d still have a gift for him that he could actually use.

“Come on, pleaseeeee! Will you please wrap my present for me?”

“For the last time, Daichi, no,” Hiromi tutted as she continued to prepare the main room for the guests due to arrive in just a couple of hours. “I’ll help you hold everything in place as you tie the bow, but I won’t do the entire thing for you.”

“But I don’t know how to wrap presents!”

“Then I’ll teach you.”

“No, Max tried to teach me before. And it still looked butt-ugly.”

Hiromi set out a few more pillows for people to sit on near the holiday dragon. In place of a fir tree, the likes of which had recently become more common in public spaces in Japan around this time of year, Grandpa Ryu had suggested setting up something more… non-denominational. Although the team had been skeptical at first, with Takao actively lamenting how “uncool” the idea was, they were more taken by the concept once they laid eyes on the intricately carved skeletal wooden dragon. By the time the dragon had been fully decorated with glittering lights and tinsel and colorful temari, the team could not imagine having anything else to ring in the new year.

“I bet it looked much better than you think,” she reassured him as she carefully replaced one of the fallen pieces of tinsel on the dragon.

“No it didn’t!” Daichi fell backward to the floor, arms out wide as he stared at the ceiling in defeat, the triumphant wrapping paper still in a roll in front of him. “If I wrap it myself everyone is going to know it’s my present! And I want to keep it secret!”

“You don’t know that that’s true, Daichi,” Kyouju chimed in as he peered his head into the room. “People might confuse your present with Takao’s.”

“My gift wrapping isn’t as bad as his!” Daichi shouted just as Takao joined in unison from elsewhere in the dojo.

Hiromi chuckled as she came over to sit properly on her knees in front of Daichi and the devious wrapping paper.

“Alright, come on, up, up!” She clapped her hands twice, and the boy sprang up to sit like a jack-in-the-box. “Let’s get this done! We’ll have your gift looking better than Taka’s in no time.”

For the next twenty five minutes, while Kyouju, Takao, and Kai prepared the outdoor garden for the inevitable beybattles, Hiromi proceeded to give detailed instructions to Daichi as he wrestled — sometimes quite literally — with the wrapping paper around the gigantic stuffed plush that he had picked out as a gift for Mathilda. Despite his complaints, the final product came out better than either of them had expected, and Hiromi was only too happy to help.

Anything to distract her from her own gift and its intended recipient.

With the return of Grandfather Ryu, Mr. Dickinson, Max, and Rei with food, the group set to finalizing the preparations for the party. To Hiromi’s relief, time flew by without her even noticing. Soon guests began to arrive, either alone or in small groups. Given that the Beyblade Summit had taken place in Tokyo that year, they expected quite the full house.

The Saint Shields showed up first, even before the scheduled start time, with Ozuma explaining that they wanted to enjoy the garden and the holiday atmosphere “unspoiled”, before the other teams ruined it with their noisy presence. F-Sangre were not too far behind, the large mysterious bag that Raul had in tow an indication that the twins might showcase a new act once the party picked up. The Blitzkrieg Boys had brought two mysterious bags of their own. One was, to the delight of Takao and Max in particular, stuffed to the brim with Russian foods the team had packed with them. The other, much to Takao and Max’s horrified surprise, simply contained Ivan. And while the two boys, distracted, recovered from their near-heart attacks, with a wink Sergei slipped Hiromi a small neatly packed parcel that contained her own personal stash of her favorite zephyr desserts.

The White Tigers and the PPB All Starz rolled in together, all riled up and a little roughed up, suggesting they had run into each other on the way to the party and squeezed in a beybattle or two. The Majestics were the last to arrive, fashionably late to being fashionably late. But the tiered holiday cake made by Olivier — each layer featuring elements of everyone’s home countries and decorated with tiny chocolate replicas of their bit-beasts, with Mount Fuji crowning the very top — got everyone’s attention and made for a more than impressive entrance. And in-between all of the teams, their other friends from years of beyblading together, joined the party.

Hiromi, along with Max and eventually Mathilda and Raul, had assumed the role of greeters at the entrance, making sure everyone knew their way around the dojo before letting them loose at the party. It gave her something to do and kept her from stealing glances at her gift — although she still wondered if she should hide it or swap it out for something else at the last minute.

No, she tried to convince herself. It will be fine. He’ll like the gift. It wouldn’t have made sense to get him anything else.

But her stomach still twisted nervously when she answered the door to find Zeo Zagart standing outside.

“Hi, Hiromi! It’s been a while.” He greeted her with a nervous but nonetheless warm smile. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Of course!” Hiromi quickly got her anxieties under control and ushered him inside. “It’s good to see you, Zeo, I’m so glad you could make it.”

Of course she was glad that he came out to the party. They had lost touch after that fateful world championship six years ago, until Zeo had reached out to the Bladebreakers after the BEGA incident. He had been worried that they would not want to speak to him at all, but in the end, his concerns about everyone’s well-being after the downright apocalyptic showdown between Takao and Brooklyn had prevailed. And Takao — true to his infinitely friendly nature — had been only too happy to reconnect. Although some of the team had taken a little more time to welcome him back, they had all come around to it eventually. And while they hadn’t seen much of each other over the last couple of years — university and work and responsibilities to the BBA gradually demanding more of their attention — Zeo had been one of the first people on Takao’s list of guests for tonight.

But Hiromi’s anxieties now did not stem from either some residual resentment of Zeo’s past mistakes or concerns about how well he would fit in with this rambunctious bunch.

They came from the fact that he was her giftee in the party’s secret gift exchange.

Well, it’s definitely too late to worry about it now, she told herself. Zeo’s present, along with the rest of them, rested under the watchful eye of the Holidragon, and it would be especially awkward for her to try to remove it now. There was nothing more for her to do than make sure he was having a good time — at least until it came to open the gifts.

“Welcome back to the dojo. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It has! I was afraid it would feel a little awkward coming back here…”

“Did it?”

“It did, but…” He smiled as they both took off their shoes on the way into the house. “I am really excited to see everyone, too.”

As he took off his beanie, his long turquoise hair cascaded out from underneath. He had decided to grow it out again after all these years. He’d gotten taller, too. Hiromi wasn’t going to ask how all of that worked.

“Zeo! It’s so good to see you!” Max greeted. As he took care of Zeo’s coat and hat and scarf, the new guest exchanged introductions with Mathilda and Raul.

“Oh, is that a violin?” Raul asked as he pointed to the case Zeo was holding. “That’s not your present for the Kentucky Friend Challenge, is it? Dios mio, I thought we weren’t supposed to spend that much— Mattie, what do I do, it’s too late now to go get him something else—”

“No, no, you got it all wrong!” The boy chuckled, patting Raul’s shoulder. “It is a violin, but it’s not the present. Takao said in the invitation to ‘come ready to party and show off’. At the holiday parties I used to attend with my father, I sometimes entertained the guests with music. I’m… not really sure that this was what Takao meant, but I wanted to bring it just in case…”

“That’s amazing! You are so good at violin, I bet everyone would love to hear you play,” Max exclaimed before turning in the other direction of the hallway, toward the rest of the party. “Hey, everyone—!”

“Max!” Hiromi was quick to clamp her hand over the boy’s mouth. “Don’t just do it right now, let him at least get something to eat first and say hello to people!”

“No, no, that’s okay!” Zeo chuckled, although the nervous stammer did not escape Hiromi’s notice. “I am happy to play, but I don’t insist on it. This is just in case there is no other entertainment… I don’t need to be the main act or anything!”

“You know, I think I might have a better idea than a solo concert. If you’re up for it,” Raul offered with a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Can you play a song just by listening to it, without sheet music?”

“Yes, that’s no problem. What did you have in mind?”

“Let me show you,” Raul said as he hooked his arm around Zeo’s. As he lead the slightly bewildered boy inside the house, he shouted back to the others: “I’ll give him a tour of the place! Don’t wait for us!”

Hiromi waved after them. It’s okay, you don’t need to worry about anything, she told herself. He’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Your present will be fine. But despite her best attempts, worry she did.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

By the time Hiromi and the rest of the Greeting Gang — which had expanded with the addition of Eddie and Moses and his little sister — had made their way back into the fray of the party, the singing had already started. Johnny and Boris were both playing guitar — because of course Johnny had brought two with him —, with Giancarlo and Ming-Ming leading the chorus. Mystel had even broken out his harmonica to add some extra flavor to the All Starz’ favorite “Jingle Bells”.

Hiromi was still enjoying the music and the festive atmosphere of the party, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to be in the thick of it, opting instead to sit by the slightly ajar doors to the porch and garden. The friendly matches had stopped — or at least paused for the time being — so all that drifted in from the outside was the chilled breeze of winter and a soothing silence.

As she took a sip of her drink, her gaze meandered around the room before finally settling on the Holidragon. The pile of presents underneath its immaculate claws seemed to mock her. There were gifts of all shapes and sizes, from a simple envelope to a box that was surely big enough to fit a person (she quickly glanced about to ascertain that Ivan was not, in fact, inside said box). Doing the “Kentucky Friend Challenge” — what they had decided to call the gift exchange in lieu of “Secret Santa”, in honor of a far more prominent white-haired jolly man and his franchise associated with the holiday in Japan (even though Takao still referred to it as “Kinomiya’s First-rate Christmas”) — had seemed like a good idea at the start. After they had confirmed who was coming, each person had been assigned another guest as their gift recipient, the entire process done randomly and secretly by Dizzy so that not even Kyouju knew what the final oroboros of gift-givers and their recipients looked like.

When she had received the name of her giftee, Hiromi had been excited to have a chance to pick out something special for Zeo. But thinking about the perfect present soon became an agonizing process to come up with something that he would like — or even just anything that he did not already have (and could actually use). She supposed that things could have been worse. She could have gotten Olivier “my tastes are too exquisite for you” Boulanger or someone she knew less well, like Gao.

Thankfully, she had only been tasked with finding a gift for a wealthy android boy that was supposed to let him know that, in spite of the distance and the time that had passed, they were genuinely glad to have him as their friend.

No big deal. Not at all.

Hiromi swallowed the last bit of her chicken nugget against the lump in her throat, chasing it down with the rest of her drink for good measure.

“Hey, Hiromi?”

The girl gave a startled yelp as Zeo’s voice drifted in through the open door from the outside.

“Zeo? What are you doing out there?”

“Ryu-ojiisan let us out through the other room. Can I ask you for a favor?”

“S—sure. Who is ‘us’, by the way?”

“Raul and Julia.”

Hiromi was starting to get a sense of what was about to happen.

“What do you need me to do?”

“The twins are going to start their act in a minute or so. Would you open the patio doors when you hear me start playing violin?”

“Yeah, of course— I can do that.”

In that moment, a head of vibrant turquoise hair appeared in the opening as Zeo peered around one of the doors.

“Don’t be nervous.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Even if you’re a little late, the exciting part of their act doesn’t start until about a third of the way through the song.”

Timing her queue to reveal the performers outside was not what made her nervous, but of course she couldn’t tell Zeo that. Instead, she smiled back and nodded her head resolutely, flexing her arm for him.

“You can count on me!”

“Thanks, Hiromi. I always knew I could.”

Before Hiromi’s face could get too red from his genuine compliment and her shame about how disappointing her present would surely be, Zeo disappeared back outside.

Sure enough, not even two minutes later, the girl heard an upbeat tune as Zeo began to play. Even with the doors almost closed, the volume was loud enough to catch the attention of the people in the vicinity. Hiromi slid one door open — with Miguel promptly assisting with the other — to reveal the twins, dressed in even more vibrant, elaborate costumes than she had ever seen them wear, starting out in an improbable balancing act, as Zeo accompanied them on violin on the grass nearby.

The crowd promptly arranged themselves for the show, some filing out onto the porch while others preferred to stay indoors to watch. As Hiromi found herself outside, ooh-ing and aah-ing and gasping with everyone else as Raul and Julia performed one trick after another, she couldn’t help but also steal glances at Zeo. He might have been made of metal and wires and circuit boards, but you would never be able to tell by his graceful movements. Slowly, as she was swept along with everyone’s excitement, and as she watched Zeo put his all into the song, the strokes of his bow in tandem with the twins’ movements, positively grinning with how much fun he was having, she felt her own heart lighten. And she couldn’t help but giggle when she realized that there were quite a few others watching Zeo even more intently than the twins.

Neither too soon nor too late, the circus duo finished their act with one final flurry of ribbons and beyblades, to the uproarious applause of the entire party. As soon as he was on the ground, Raul motioned for Zeo to join them, and the three took their bows.

By the time the bravos died down, Max was already on his feet, announcing the imminent start of the KFC. Hiromi did not think that her stomach could drop any lower.

“Hiromi, Hiromi!” Salima squeezed her way onto the porch next to the girl as others filed back inside to either offer their gifts to the dragon or get more refreshments. “Who is the violinist? You know him, right?”

Hiromi could barely keep focused on the conversation as Salima — and a few others — gushed about how amazing Zeo’s performance had been. And when Max had approached them with a little pile of gifts, handing off the ones that had been intended for the girls, her anxious thoughts only intensified.

With an excuse that she wanted to get more food, Hiromi quickly darted inside to try to find a quieter spot to calm down. Zeo had gone inside at some point, probably to put away his instrument, although with everyone up on their feet she could have easily missed him in the main room. Slipping into the hallway undeterred, she leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath in, then a long exhale out. Another deep breath. Another long exhale. She desperately wanted to peek back inside, to see if Zeo was there, if he had opened his present, if maybe he was actually excited about her gift — but she was also terrified to have her worst fears confirmed.

As a few people spilled out of the main room into the hallway, she did catch a glimpse of others with their spoils. Ralf was sternly ushering Johnny, who could not understand why he could not simply strip in front of everyone, toward the bathroom so that the latter could put on the limited edition band tee that Hiromi had seen Grandpa Ryu preparing the other day. On the other end, Yuriy was yelling at Ivan to go outside before he tried to fly his new drone. And when a sharp excited squeak pierced the dojo, followed by a wave of delighted laughter from everyone else, Hiromi knew that Mathilda must have opened her present.

As she took stock of people’s gifts, forgetting for a moment about her own, she felt even more put out. What had she been thinking? She should have just gotten him that book of modern pop songs arranged for violin or maybe something from her last trip to Europe—

“Hiromi!”

The girl spun around, clutching her present close to her chest, as she came face to face with Zeo. Zeo, who was currently holding an unwrapped box that she recognized only too well, in his hands.

“Hey, Zeo!” Act natural, ACT NATURAL— “How’s it going? How are you liking the party?”

“It’s been really fun,” he grinned as he scratched the back of his head. It was amazing how many of Takao’s habits he still had despite their years apart. “I really didn’t expect to perform with anyone tonight, but I am glad Raul invited me to.”

“That’s so great! You were really terrific out there, you know. A few people have been asking about you.”

“Oh…” he blinked twice. “Really?”

She nodded. “I think you have quite a few fans now. Ming-Ming better watch out.”

“Gosh, I am not sure I can compete with her.” He snuck a sideways glance at the pop singer before, with a comically horrified expression, leaning in to say in a stage whisper. “And I’m not sure I want to.”

Hiromi couldn’t help but giggle. She had missed hanging out with Zeo. At his core, he truly was a sweet and caring person, despite what a diagnostic run by Dizzy might say.

“But that wasn’t why I came over here,” he added more seriously, looking down at the present in his hands. “I actually wanted to ask you… This gift was from you, wasn’t it?”

Oh no. He hates it so much he came over to tell me in person.

“What? Me? That gift? No, no, don’t be silly—“ She started to deny it but broke off under Zeo’s knowing gaze. She fell silent for a few moments before sighing in defeat. “…Yes, it was me. How did you know?”

“Well, this was a good attempt at misdirection.” He held up the stylized drawing she’d done by hand of Zeo with Takao, Max, Rei, and Kai, all holding hands — well, with the exception of the latter — and clearly enjoying a day at an amusement park of sorts. “But not quite good enough.”

“Max can draw pretty well.”

“Yes, but I still knew it wasn’t from him.”

“But how, though?”

“First, you were always the best at origami, by far,” he counted off on the fingers of his free hand as he replaced the drawing in the box. “So I figured only you could have made such crisp lines in the folds of the paper.”

“Wow, you still remember that?” She stared at him in surprise. When the boys had been especially difficult back in the day, she would fold little animals out of colorful paper to help her de-stress. “That couldn’t have been it though, right?”

“Your handwriting on the gift tag and in the card was a pretty big clue.” He folded down another finger.

She had tried to alter her handwriting a bit, but maybe it still hadn’t been enough to fool Zeo’s ridiculously discerning eye.

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “What was three? I can tell there’s a third explanation.”

“There… might have also been a strand of your hair stuck in the tape.” This time, he looked awkwardly to the ceiling. “Aaaand I ran a bio analysis of it and—“

“Zeo!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The boy was suddenly apologizing. Even if he couldn’t turn red, he still looked plenty ashamed. “I know it’s kind of cheating — and also weird and creepy — to use my capabilities like that, but— I just—“

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Immediately regretting her outburst, Hiromi spoke in a gentler tone. “I don’t think it’s weird for you to use your android powers. I just… wanted the gift to be about you and the rest of the boys. I thought it might be nice for you all to spend some time together while Max and Rei are still in the country for the Summit and Kai hasn’t taken off for his next big work engagement— But that’s of course if you even want to go to Whimsyland with them! I know they would love to go because at least Takao and Rei have been talking about it nonstop, and they would all love to hang out with you because it’s been so long since you’ve seen each other— but the tickets don’t have any names on them so you can actually invite anyone you want! Or just go by yourself five times. That’s if you want to go, of course, because if you hate it you don’t even have to go and you can totally forget that—“

Before Hiromi could get even more carried away, Zeo had pulled her into a snug one-armed hug. It was then that she remembered why they had never guessed Zeo’s physical nature until the very end — his hugs had always been the softest she’d ever experienced.

Of course he doesn’t hate it. Feeling genuine relief for the first time that evening, with tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, Hiromi reciprocated the gesture. Someone like Zeo could never hate it. And even if he didn’t like it, he would have still appreciated it for how much thought you put into it, you silly.

When he let go, he still kept his hand on her shoulder. “I love this gift. I honestly couldn’t ask for anything more than getting to spend more time with everyone. And you and Kyouju and Daichi should all come with us, too. In fact, I’ll buy your tickets for you.”

“Wait, no, that’s not how it works!” She protested. “You’re not supposed to spend money for your own holiday gift!”

“But it’s not my own holiday gift. It will be yours.”

She pouted at him but finally relented. “Only if you insist.”

“I do.” He looked at the box in her hands. “Are you going to open that?”

“Oh. I guess I should. I was honestly so worried about your gift that I hadn’t had time to be excited about mine…”

“Hiromi! Why do you still worry so much about everything? Come on.” He pulled her out of the hallway, scanning the room for someone. “You should open your present now. The person who got it for you really wanted to see your reaction.”

“You know who my giver is? Do you know what they got for me? How do you know this stuff? Do you have x-ray vision or something?” She asked as she carefully examined the wrapping, peeved as she came away with no hints as to the identity of the gift-giver. Even the label with her name had been printed on a computer. All she knew was that it couldn’t be Zeo because of how Dizzy had made the Kentucky Friend assignments.

“Now now, I’ve already told you how I figured out you were my gift-giver. I can’t share all of my secrets with you.”

“You’re so mean!”

“Stop stalling and open the gift!”

As both of them laughed, Hiromi took to unwrapping her present at last. Around them, the dojo was full of excited shouts, merry singing, and the celebratory clinking of glasses. Reunions like these were rare and would likely become even sparser the older they became. But for now, they could all enjoy the most precious gift of them all: reconnecting with old friends.