TYT: TYRS - Part 1 - The Merriment Project

Yule Tide Yamaku - The Yamaku Reader Story

Part 1: The Merriment Project

The holiday season was in full swing, and that meant snow, biting cold, strained relationships, and more than a little excessive drinking. Only some of those things were true around Yamaku Academy—maybe more than Hanako thought—but she wasn't complaining on that brisk Wednesday afternoon. In the spirit of the season, she donned her big, puffy black winter coat and an aptly named holiday hat—green felt with fluffy white fringe and a big white ball on the end—and set out across the campus carrying an impressive stack of gifts. Christmas Day wouldn't arrive for another week, but the holidays wait for no one—least of all a Hakamichi.

Despite their somewhat standoffish relationship, Shizune had started trusting Hanako with numerous tasks—at least ever since she and Lilly had reconciled—which most recently had included wrapping the Secret Santa gifts turned in by their fellow students. There were several still hidden in her dorm room for safekeeping, but the students setting up for the stage for the holiday play had requested a few packages so they could define the layout, and Hanako was eager to get away from her laptop. Writing the holiday play for room three-three was starting to wear on her, mostly because she'd been blocked and completely out of ideas for the past week. Luckily, Shizune remained unaware of that little hiccup, or Hanako might not have been allowed to enjoy a nice wintry walk away from her laptop.

Making her way along the winding paths, only recently cleared after the previous night's snowfall, Hanako listed to her side as she walked against the steady chill breeze. Using her knee as a brace, she tried balancing the tower of packages, but that just sent her stumbling toward a patch of black ice. Giving up on trying to prevent the inevitable, she let go of the stack and dropped to her knees, slamming her eyes closed as the lovingly-wrapped boxes scattered across the cement walkway. Nothing in them being breakable, she didn't bother worrying about damage to anything except her pride; she could already hear some familiar snickering.

“Wahaha~!” Misha laughed as Hanako's shoulders slumped. Seeing that reaction, the pink-haired girl slapped a mitten-covered hand over her mouth and apologized, “Sorry, Hana-chan, d'you need a hand~?”

Still resting on the cold walkway, Hanako reached up to adjust her hat, lifting it just enough to uncover her eyes, and turned to shake her head. “N-no thanks, M-Misha... I just lost my b-balance,” she mumbled, springing back to her feet and dusting off her knees. Noticing that Misha's conjoined twin seemed to have gone missing, Hanako inquired, “Where's S-Shizune?”

“Back there,” she replied, pointing over her shoulder toward the girls' dorm, “Probably still arguing with Lilly over refreshments... C'mon, I've only got a few boxes to carry~!” she held up her little stack of packages, “Lemme take a few of yours~!”

Imagining Lilly and Shizune trying to argue using deaf-blind signing made Hanako smirk derisively, which Misha took as an invitation to assist with the packages. In the months since joining the newspaper club, largely because Hanako often acted as the emissary between Natsume and the Student Council, she and Misha had become friends, so the offer wasn't unexpected. Figuring it would probably be easier to accept her help than try to argue or explain, Hanako let bubbly Misha take some of the burden, and they soon continued along their way into the main school building.

After reaching the auditorium without further incident, they found half the student body was already there—or about fifty of them, at least. As expected, they were all buzzing about, decorating the room for the holiday play, setting up concession stands, and generally making a lot of noise. When the two girls stepped in carrying stacks of wrapped presents, a hundred eyes seemed to turn and watch them pass, and Hanako silently thanked the boxes she was carrying for providing a barrier against their scrutiny. She knew they were probably wondering about the gifts more than her presence, but irrational fears aren't rational.

Misha, bombastic and cheerful as always, laughed loudly, “Wahaha~!” then aimed a curious eye toward the stage and called out, “Hicchan~! I thought you said you were too busy today~?”

“Misha?” he called back, sounding a little anxious; he often got roped into helping the Student Council even though he had never actually joined. Looking up, Hanako quirked an eyebrow at seeing Emi resting atop his shoulders, but just shook her head as Hisao added, “I thought you were working in the Council Room today?”

“We were~! She still is—well, kinda, but not really~!” Misha replied, the bustle of the auditorium restarting as she started bounding down the aisle. Giggling as she went, she cheered, “Yay, Emi~! You got the Grinch to come help~!”

“He's not a Grinch!” Emi balked, wobbling a little on her shoulder-perch, “He just needed proper... motivation!”

Evidently Hisao had told Misha he would be unavailable, but considering he was there holding a box of glass ornaments with Emi sitting on his shoulders, Hanako presumed his girlfriend had convinced him otherwise—she didn't want to know how. Smiling softly, and deciding not to eavesdrop further, Hanako trailed at a more leisurely pace, mostly keeping her head down and concentrated on not tripping over something—or someone. Upon reaching the stage, she hefted the gift stack up next to Misha's pile and, instead of leaping up onto the raised stage like the pink-haired girl had done, she walked over to the stairs.

By the time Hanako reached the stage, Misha had already wandered off somewhere, which left just Hisao, Emi and a few others milling about behind the tree. Guessing that she might as well do the courteous thing, Hanako lifted her hand and offered Hisao a mitten-covered wave, which garnered a smile and a greeting, “Hello, Hanako. How's the script coming?”

Before Hanako could reply, Emi waved from atop her perch and beamed, “Heya, Hanako! You look festive—I love your hat~!”

Their greetings put a smile on Hanako's face, but she still felt a little nervous, especially having half the school in the room behind her. She felt like every last one of them was staring at her behind, and hoped—perhaps naively—that it was mostly because of the Christmas trees embroidered on her jean pockets; she knew from behind she cut quite the silhouette.

“Th-thank you, Emi,” she replied, managing a courteous bow that probably wasn't necessary, and made her cringe when she thought about all those eyes. “Hello, Hisao,” she added, shrugging slightly as she answered his question, “It's... a w-work in p-progress...”

“Your secret's safe with me,” he assured her, glancing up at Emi to whisper, “Don't tell Shizune!”

“Like I'd tell her anything!” Emi balked, slapping his shoulder abruptly then turning to grin at Hanako. “Like my step-ladder?” she joked, flicking Hisao's perpetual cow-lick, “He works cheap—runs on kisses~!”

Shaking his head slightly, the cow-licked boy glanced up at her and sighed, “That's why I keep taking us under the mistletoe—I need more fuel!”

At hearing that, Emi ducked down and kissed his forehead, then sat back up with a girlish giggle and cheered, “Onward, steed! We have a tree to decorate~!”

Reaching up to rub the patch of lip gloss off his forehead, Hisao grumbled, “I'm not your horsey!”

“I really like riding you, though!” she remarked, smirking suggestively as he turned them away, “Seeya 'round, Hanako~!”

Watching them go back to the tree, Hanako shook her head and shrugged. For a while she had entertained the idea of getting to know Hisao more closely—beyond friendship—but he had already gravitated toward the little runner girl by that point, and they just seemed to fit together—so to speak. Still, even if romance wasn't an option, she considered Hisao her friend; they shared a love of reading, and often traded books. Besides that, the holidays were hardly a time for jealousy, and she felt content having made friends with Natsume and Naomi, and Emi was okay, too—though preferably in small doses.

When she first started writing for the school paper, the Emi and Hisao relationship provided a wellspring of material for Hanako's burgeoning gossip column. Writing little relationship speculation pieces wasn't exactly fulfilling in a creative sense, but it allowed her to flex her journalistic muscles. Having ghost-like status around the school really helped when it came to pursuing those kinds of stories; people rarely think to check for phantoms before running their mouth, or acting in a less than savory manner. That had led to a number of juicy stories that slowly built her readership.

The real kicker came later, when her story detailing the infamous lemon shed incident cinched her column's readership school-wide—even omitting most of the witnessed details, and without using names—so, speaking optimistically, romantic loss had brought professional gain. Sometimes she couldn't quite convince herself of that, especially late at night while she was alone in her room, but there was little she could do about it now that Hisao and Emi were practically married; any relationship of Emi's that lasted more than an afternoon or two would probably last forever—her friendship with the reclusive Rin proved that.

In the interim, Hanako was hardly looking for any kind romantic entanglements; she had barely started figuring out friendships, and she doubted anyone around the school looked at her that way, anyway. So, with that thought in mind, she slowly turned her Christmas-tree-covered behind away, and started walking back across the stage. However, before she could even get close to the stairs, a pink blur suddenly appeared at her side, caught her by the elbow, and abruptly turned her back around; Hanako still hadn't quite figured out how to predict Misha's erratic movements—they seemed truly random.

“Hey, you came here to work, right~?” Misha boomed, the volume making Hanako flinch—the acoustics on stage made her voice even louder. “Right~!” she answered her own question—still with ear-piercing loudness—then held up a beckoning hand and added, “C'mon, our class is on decoration duty—we could use those dexterous digits~!”

Setting aside Misha's likely accidental alliteration, Hanako took a moment to think. The tradition around the holidays at Yamaku was for the whole school to put together a holiday festival, and the graduating class would also put on holiday-themed plays. Each classroom was responsible for its own costumes and staging, and Hanako had been entrusted with developing the script for her class, which was waiting back at her dorm on her laptop—completely stalled. Thus far, it had been fun to write, and she liked flexing her creativity writing fiction, but she also missed helping with the decorations. That's why she volunteered to help with the Secret Santa packages in the first place: it made her feel a little more involved in a communal sense.

Considering that, being given the opportunity to make hand-crafted ornaments was an offer she could hardly refuse, so, nodding gleefully, she replied, “O-okay... I could use a b-break, anyway...”

Agreement secured, Misha let out a cheerful, “Wahaha~!” and turned to lead her backstage.

The dim, narrow hallway running behind the main stage served as storage area, and a small workstation was set up amidst the various remnants of previous productions. Cramped into that small area, a half dozen of her classmates sat working with glass baubles, ribbons, construction paper, and all sorts of glue and glitter. Hanako had to try really hard not to grin like an idiot at seeing their determined smiles, holiday hats, and the colorful decorations on which they were working; it was all so festive. A few glanced up to watch the two girls approach, but, being too engrossed in their work, none bothered saying anything.

However, Misha broke the silence almost immediately. “There's paper, hooks, ribbon, streamers, glitter...!” she lilted, pointing out the various resources, “All kinds of... stuff~! Go nuts—make whatever you want, Hana-chan~!”

Turning to watch as Misha started walking away, Hanako asked, “Y-you're not helping?”

“Shicchan has me supervising~! Of all things...!” she replied, shrugging noncommittally, “Though I think she just wants me to help keep spirits up~! The loudest voices bring the most cheer, I think, right~? Right~!”

Deciding not to argue, if only because Misha did that well enough on her own, Hanako simply nodded and watched her leave; it was good to see her wielding some autonomy on the Council in any case, regardless of the reasons. With Misha gone, though, she turned back to inspect the group and sighed inwardly. She had come a long way toward being more social, even managing a few friends outside of Lilly, Naomi and Natsume—one of which had just exited stage left. However, even though all six of the students in front of her were quite familiar with her, and she had known most of them for years—mostly indirectly—she felt nervous sitting down with them, even in an nonthreatening holiday setting.

On the far end sat Miura and Suzuki, tied at the hip like always, both trying to muddle their way through constructing ornaments out of glass baubles, ribbons, and tape—lots of tape. Miura still operated as though she had both hands at times, which resulted in a lot of accidental hand slips; the shattered remnants from a few some glass baubles proved as much. Meanwhile, Suzuki didn't look like she was in any condition to focus on anything more complicated than a television set—the holiday rush effected some more than others. They were both smiling, though, which could easily have been from fatigue, but Hanako decided to think of it as holiday cheer.

A little closer sat Maeda and Valeth, both seeming to have equal skill at piecing together snowflakes out of construction paper and glitter—that is to say, none at all. The evidence of their failed attempts lay scattered all over the floor, in their hair, and probably in a few places best left unmentioned, and looked more like confetti than anything else. She didn't know either of them particularly well, except that she sometimes saw Valeth in the library—he was in the book club—but watching them made her wonder whether either should be allowed to wield scissors. Still, they were trying, and, around the holidays, that's all that really mattered.

Closest to her, and perhaps the least familiar of the bunch, sat Arai and Kapur, who seemed like an odd pair, but were often seen together outside of class. Rumors of their being involved romantically had become part of Yamaku lore, but all assumptions about their being a couple remained hearsay; it was almost on the level of a certain formerly twice shy couple from room three-one. If they opened up to her, maybe she could get another fluff piece for her gossip column—a cute little love story just in time for the holidays. Realizing she might be stepping into a golden opportunity, Hanako decided to sit down next to the odd couple.

As Hanako got herself situated, Kapur greeted her cheerily, “Hi, Hanako!” Her soft voice and penchant for skipping formality left Hanako with a crooked smirk. “Got roped into this too, huh?” she speculated, casting a glance toward the rest of the group, “Don't worry, we all got suckered into this—it's all in good fun, right gang?”

A chorus of noncommittal groans followed, along with a series of synchronized shrugs. Kapur rolled her eyes and shrugged along with them as she conceded, “Okay, this kinda sucks,” she then raised a cheerful fist in the air, “but it'll be worth it in the end!”

“Can it, Missy Mnemonic!” Miura groaned, setting down her unfinished ornament as she leaned toward Hanako, “So, did Misha trick you into this, or were you really that bored?”

“U-um, w-well... trick me?” Hanako sputtered, her nervousness bringing out more of the stutter that she had been trying to repress, “N-not exactly... I-I was w-working on... the script, a-and-”

Letting out a hearty laugh, Arai interjected, “Boor-iiing...! Cooped up in front of a computer monitor for umpteen hours? You must have cabin fever—no wonder you're here... not that we're bothered! The more the merrier, I say!”

The fact that he was right made Hanako smile, but the bombastic way in which he spoke made her cringe a little. “S-something like that...” she mumbled, turning her eyes toward the craft supplies, “I needed to g-get away for a w-while, I guess... c-clear my head.”

“Well, you're welcome to stay,” Kapur said with a hopeful smile. “These two idiots might as well just burn the snowflakes they're working on,” she remarked flippantly, pointing at Valeth and Maeda who both shrugged in agreement, “and Snoozu keeps falling asleep on the glue sticks...”

“I heard that!” Suzuki protested, glaring at the dainty Indian girl as she grabbed her friend's shoulder and groggily added, “Miki, engage battle plan alpha!”

Raising an eyebrow at her sleepy friend, Miura asked, “Which one is alpha again?”

“B-ten, C-four, D-eight!” came the hazy reply, followed by a raised fist and a sleepy cry, “The Bharatiya Nausena dogs are attacking! All hands to battle stations! Cry havoc...! And...” The rest of her declaration came out as a garbled, incoherent groan—something akin to a snore, but much more dramatic.

“Don't mind her, she didn't sleep last night,” Kapur stated, rolling her eyes as she turned back to Hanako, “Apparently she was staying up to see Santa... a week early, no less...”

“That old fat-ass owes me a new lamp!” Suzuki balked, slumping back against the wall as she grumbled a few unintelligible expletives.

Everyone, even Hanako, started laughing at that—well, except Suzuki, who simply glowered at the floor. Although she felt a little bad for Suzuki's plight, her being the object of attention helped Hanako relax as they continued their work making holiday decorations. The conversation from there went on to less pertinent matters—mostly complaints about all the extra schoolwork their teachers had been handing out—and Hanako made use of the slight lull to keep an eye on Arai and Kapur. Based on their constant bickering and mutual name-calling, it seemed like they functioned as an old married couple might, but that was no different from how anyone else in the group acted, so she probably needed to observe them alone.

That wasn't likely to happen anytime soon, though, so Hanako just focused on her handicrafts and kept her ears perked toward the discussion—just in case something interesting came to light. By then most of the group was talking about past holidays, family, upcoming visits, and other cheerful fare, some of which left Hanako feeling a little dejected. Still, she refused to let a little thing like being an orphan get in the way of enjoying the holiday spirit, or getting her story. Their tales of past holidays actually brightened her mood in some respects; reliving happier days, even if it was only vicariously, made her smile.

After a while, Misha returned from her rounds with another box of crafting materials—mostly salvage from previous holiday events—and decided to abandon her morale-boosting duties so she could join in constructing handicrafts for the tree. The presence of Misha brought a renewed fervor—or volume at least—to the conversation, but shattered any illusions Hanako might have had about getting a story from Kapur and Arai. However, all she had really learned so far was that Arai was willing to bloody his fingertips trying to build a popcorn garland, and Kapur had a very methodical approach to weaving evergreen wreaths, so Hanako didn't consider it much of a loss.

Sometime later, a lull in the conversation brought Hanako's curious eyes up to peek at the group, if only to make sure they hadn't left. Maeda noticed her glance, then immediately turned back down to focus on the snowflake he was steadily destroying. The partially deaf boy—which she assumed was the case based on knowing he had tinnitus—had barely said a few words, and had seemed even more uncomfortable than herself, ever since she arrived. She figured it had something to do with there being unexpected additions to their group—except for Misha, they were all friends with each other—though she wondered if he also might have a problem with her or Misha in particular.

That's why she was somewhat surprised when Maeda tapped Arai's shoulder and suggested, “Hey Taro, tell the Santa story.”

Miura immediately slapped his shoulder and scolded, “Dammit, Tin-Tin, why would you go and ask him that? You know it always makes me cry, and I hate crying!”

Rubbing his wounded arm, Maeda replied, “Well, I don't think Hanako or Misha have heard it...”

“I wanna hear~!” Misha cheered, clapping her hands together, “I love stories that'll make me cry~!”

“Anyone surprised by that?” Suzuki questioned sardonically.

Directing a sour pout at Suzuki, Kapur interjected, “Quiet, Miss Long-Distance Sendai, nobody asked you!”

“C'mon, it's just a stupid story,” Arai stated with a shrug, “It's not like it's anything special...”

Surprisingly, Valeth was the calm voice of reason suggesting, “How about we stop bickering and ask if our other guest would like to hear the tale?”

“Yeah!” Kapur agreed, turning toward Hanako with a slight shrug, “Whaddya say Hanako? You feel like crying?”

The simple fact that the story in question had caused so much contention almost made her want to refuse; Hanako never wanted to cause undue friction. On the other hand, part of the reason she had sat down was to learn more about Kapur and Arai, so hearing a story from one of them would probably help that along. Besides, the thought of hard-nosed Miura crying for any reason sounded intriguing. At the very least, hearing a cry-inducing tale involving Santa might help with the block on her holiday script, so, after a brief moment of consideration, she started nodding.

“U-um... I'd like to hear it,” she said, turning toward Arai, “I-if you don't mind, um... Taro?” Using his first name wasn't how she was accustomed to addressing him, but she thought it might clear up the melancholy frown he'd been displaying since Maeda brought up the subject—which it did.

Shrugging, Arai finally smiled and let out a little sigh before tentatively inquiring, “Well... if you all really wanna hear it?” To that everyone nodded—even Miura, although she was keeping her arms folded indignantly—but Arai still seemed unwilling, taking an extra long moment, and probably hoping someone would protest.

Finally, Valeth gave an inviting wave of his hand and said, “Regale us once again, Taro... And don't spare the details.”

“Okay, alright...!” Arai grumbled, accepting a pat on the shoulder from Kapur as Misha let out a squeal of joy. “It all started back a few years ago when I was in the hospital... because of my arm...” he started, giving his paralyzed right arm a shake as he spoke, “Anyway, it was right around this time of year, and...”

Hanako sat in silence as Arai retold the story from when he was fourteen, shortly after the accident that resulted in his paralysis. Evidently, while he was stranded in the hospital over the holidays, he got roped into playing Santa by a group of nurses after the orderly who had planned to play the role suddenly fell ill. The suit fit him perfectly, so they just got him a fake beard, sat him down by the holiday tree in the children's ward, and he spent half the night listening to requests from all the sick kids.

Some of them, like himself, simply weren't able to go home for the holidays because of their recent injuries or illnesses, while others had been stranded at the hospital for months, going through chemo-therapy, or dialysis, or a dozen other long-term procedures. There was even a little boy—barely seven years old—who had been trapped in a house fire, though Arai didn't go into much detail after everyone turned a glance at Hanako. It made her feel a little bit coddled, but she understood, and didn't begrudge him his reluctance.

In any case, instead of the expected requests for games, toys, and other such things, Arai received requests for their illnesses to go away, their injuries to heal, and for their parents to take them home for the holiday. Although he'd had similar holiday wishes, the fact that so many of them wanted the same thing really made him think at the time. Even four years later, Arai still remembered every single one of those kids, their names, and their ailments—the experience was burned into his memory.

The story left all the girls, Hanako included—and even Maeda, which Valeth found hilarious—a least little misty-eyed, while Miura was practically blubbering. “Dammit, Taro!” she wailed, “It's that little bald girl that gets me every time!”

Suzuki saw to comforting Miura, though she couldn't help snickering at her friend's reaction. Meanwhile, Arai leaned against the wall and sighed, seemingly still reliving parts of the story he might not have mentioned. Feeling curious about what was causing his angst, Hanako turned toward Kapur, who seemed surprisingly calm compared to the other girls, and whispered, “I-is he alright?”

Leaning toward her, Kapur smiled and matched Hanako's whisper as she replied, “He's fine, just a little homesick—he's staying here over the holidays. Something about his folks being away...”

“O-oh,” Hanako said as she sat back.

“He really likes telling that story, but this year he can't relive it... not like usual, anyway,” Kapur added, which made Hanako quirk an eyebrow in confusion. At seeing that, the twin-braided girl added, “He usually goes back to that hospital over the holiday break... to play Santa for the kids, but... he'll be up here in Sendai instead of down in Kyoto this year...”

Feeling sympathy for the compassionate young man, Hanako wondered if there might be anything she could do to help Arai, but she could hardly get his parents to return home in time. As she sat there and tried to think of some way to cheer him up, the group slowly went back to its task. It took a while longer for Hanako to go back to her crafts, but the thought that Arai would be stranded in Sendai wouldn't leave her mind. Nobody should feel depressed over the holidays, least of all someone with as much heart as Arai seemed to have, so Hanako wanted to do something. Unfortunately all she thought she was really good at lately was writing.

Actually, after a bit of consideration, she thought that writing might be a perfect idea. It wouldn't help with the gossip piece she was hoping to put together, but maybe she could help Arai and break her writer's block in one fell swoop. If she used his story as the basis for her holiday script, which she had already planned to include a visit of some kind from Santa Claus, it would make for quite the heartwarming play, and she might even convince Arai to actually play the role of Santa. That might be asking too much, but he seemed to like being the center of attention, and he was a really good storyteller, so acting on stage probably wouldn't be much of a stretch.

Having a plan in mind, Hanako stopped paying any attention to the conversation and instead focused on finishing the snowflake angel she had been crafting; she wasn't about to abandon it with only Maeda and Valeth there to try completing her masterpiece. As she worked, she plotted out the whole scene in her mind, and even found herself snickering a few times at some of the lines she imagined. Once her angel was finished, she stood, thanked Misha for letting her help, sent a soft smile around to each member of the group, then darted out past the stage, through the school, and all the way back to where her laptop waited.

After fetching a cup of tea and telling Lilly she'd be in her room for the night, she set about writing the scene as she envisioned it, though she added a few things—as often happened. As she outlined the tale, the whole thing sounded a little too corny, but she thought she could spice it up with some medical intrigue, or maybe something as simple as a power outage. That seemed like a good idea; it would mean cutting all the stage lights for a few moments, which would give the audience a little scare. She thought that could draw them in a little more, and might even make the heartwarming payoff seem all the more poignant, or something to that effect.

So focused on plotting the script, Hanako stayed up well past her normal bedtime working, and didn't fall asleep—rather unceremoniously in a heap at her desk—until well past midnight. That night she dreamed of a jolly, plump Santa coming to see her when she was still in the burn ward, and awoke with a broad smile, and wispy tears in her eyes. As she groggily dressed for class, she hoped Arai would agree to play Santa, especially since the thought of art imitating life in such a way put a spring in her steps. It may also have been something else entirely making her feel that lively, but that thought didn't even cross her mind.