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Ugly Christmas sweaters. A staple fashion piece of the festive season, which only grew more and more common as the days grew frostier and temperatures steadily plummeted. They were popular enough at the clothing retail store you worked out — while they were stocked months earlier in September, now that it was December the wide range of sweaters was finally being perused and purchased. Most people only bought one or two, though. Occasionally a customer would come through with a clump balancing precariously in their arms, but it was always easy to discern from the variety of sizes that each and every one wasn’t for them. Sometimes there would be the odd customer that bought a few woollen sweaters at once with the intention to harvest them for yarn skeins and repurpose into other craft projects or cuter designs.
Most people, not even occasionally, and not even sometimes, didn’t enter the store daily and immediately make a beeline for the sweater section, stepping towards the products with a concerning amount of haste and enthusiasm. They then didn’t head straight to the counter to purchase their new sweater with an innocent grin on their face, as if they hadn’t done it the day before, and the day before that, and all of the days before that, too.
You’d never seen such behaviour before, not even from the biggest Christmas fanatics, the ones unwaveringly determined to make absolutely everything in their life revolve around the holiday. How anyone was ever be able to stand that much red and green was beyond you.
The offender was recognisably a previous regular in the store. The girl, with auburn hair always swooped up into a ponytail, would come in every now and then, either alone or with some friends in tow, in search some new clothes. She was always polite and patient and cheerful, kindness seeping through her every action. Truthfully, she was one of your favourite customers, and it was always a treat to serve her and her friends.
But what she had been doing for the last two entire weeks was downright ridiculous. It was unforgivable. It was crossing Christmas coloured lines that never should’ve been dared to be crossed in the first place!
And speak of the devil — she was here now, right on time for opening. With confidence you were immensely jealous of, she strolled into the store with a jovial smile plastered over her lips, appearing more joyful than merry Saint Nick himself.
She even had the audacity to wear the ugly sweater she’d bought just yesterday, as if she weren’t in possession of a dozen others by now. And then she had even more gall to come up to you to purchase it, as if you hadn’t been the victim of selling one to her yesterday, and the majority of the days before that, too.
You weren’t actually bothered by any of these antics, though. In all honesty, it was a fun thing to keep track of, to distract the mind from the truly bad customers and the unpredictable nature of the job, especially as Christmas rush shopping set in. You’d become accustomed to the routine of opening the store and helping her purchase whatever new sweater she so desired. It only annoyed you that you didn’t know what was behind it, why she needed so many sweaters and why she couldn’t just place a bulk order. No sane person would do this willingly, you were certain.
“I’m sorry to ask,” you began, taking the sweater from her to scan. “But why are you buying another one?”
She hesitated a moment, not expecting the question, before laughing. “I, uh, lost a bet,” she answered, sheepish smile curving her lips.
“A bet to wear sweaters?”
“A bet to buy and wear an ugly festive sweater every day until Christmas.”
You gawked, jaw dropping a little. “I don’t even want to know what you were betting on to have a punishment like this. You’re going to end up absolutely broke, y’know.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m coming here! These ones are so cheap but such good quality. And with them only really getting use around this time anyway, and with the sheer number I’ll have at the end of all this, I’ll be sorted for every Christmas after this.”
A laugh escaped your lips. You could only imagine the predicament she was in, and were immensely relieved you weren’t suffering the same plight. You’d been thoroughly, although jokingly, judging her for this, and didn’t want to even think about what your coworkers would be thinking about her. You weren’t certain you’d be confident enough to survive the onslaught if you were in her position. Although…
Your Christmases had never been very interesting. Outside of the retail rush, nothing much ever happened. As you grew up and matured, you’d never been very invested in the holiday, never felt the desire to be all that merry. This girl’s Christmases, on the other hand, seemed so very exciting, the absolute pinnacle of festivities and holiday cheer, along with the shenanigans she experienced with all her friends. The enthusiasm she had was almost infectious, and you finally found yourself with the bug — now itching to buy a sweater and plaster everything you owned in all shades green and red, to buy a tree and decorate it for once.
Unable to resist the smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you focused on folding her sweater neatly, before placing it into her bag. You didn’t hand it over immediately, though. “So, uh…”
“Hanabi,” she answered expectantly.
“Thanks,” you chuckled. “Should I expect to see you back here tomorrow, Hanabi?”
“Of course! Even after Christmas, too. It’s been way too much fun,” She smiled back, the joy in her eyes bright and burning. Your heart swelled in your chest, relieved that even after the Christmas sweater antics were over, it wouldn’t be the end. You finally returned her bag, now eager and elated — you’d never looked forward to a shift this much in your life.