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A crucial aspect of Christmas, one that can never be overlooked, is the art of wrapping presents. There’s quite a lot that goes into it — choosing the best paper, whether or not a ribbon would be suitable, and of course, the act of wrapping itself. As it turns out, your wrapping skills were next to nonexistent. No matter how much time or effort or patience you put into folding the paper around the gifts you’d bought for your friends and fellow platoon members, the final product always ended up crumpled and ripped, or suffered from an unpatchable gap or two. Failed attempt after failed attempt cost you not only more paper and tape, but also your sanity — it was embarrassing and maddening to be this inept at what should be a simple task. You felt pathetic and childish, but above all else, you were disappointed.
Christmas was important, and you wanted to ensure everybody received a carefully thought-out and wonderful gift, and had a wonderful time, but you couldn’t do that if you presented them with gifts in such a deplorable, messy state. You wanted to show them thanks, to show your appreciation for them and all that they’ve done for you over the year, but to give them such monstrosities would be a terrible insult, a slap in the face. You just wanted to bring them joy, but everything you tried always ended up a crinkled up failure, the physical embodiment of your inability to wrap a few gifts.
It meant you had no options other than seeking help. You sent a few Brain Messages out to your friends, asking if they were free and willing to assist you, and all but one were busy. Kyoka.
She said she’d be happy to help, and the numerous smiley face emoticons throughout her reply confirmed it. There hadn’t been a set time for her to help, which made everything a little difficult, but eventually you found her in the hideout, hunched over the coffee table with her back turned to you, clearly busy.
“Kyoka?”
She turned and at the sight of you, she smiled warmly, ever the friendly, motherly figure. “Y/N! What a wonderful surprise! Oh, is this about the message you sent?”
“I- uh… yes. Well. Actually, what are you doing?” You stumbled awkwardly over your words, gazing down at the table covered in swathes of wrapping paper of all Christmasy patterns and prints, accompanied by a neat stack of already wrapped gifts sitting beside it all.
“Wrapping presents for all the people I’ve ever served with. They’re all my family, even if the time I spent with them was short.” She smiled as she answered, a little wistful and a little sad, but pride shone through all the same.
“I see. I’m sorry to bothe-“
“Not at all!” Kyoka interrupted. “Have you forgotten that you can come to me for anything, no matter what?”
“I-I’m sorry. I know I can come to you for anything but it’s… It’s just so embarrassing. I can’t wrap any of the presents I bought for everyone when it should be easy and simple, just a little bit of folding and taping and stuff, but I just can’t seem to get the hang of it, and I… I feel so useless for being bad at it, I guess.”
“Oh, Y/N, please don’t worry about it! I completely understand. I often feel the same about cooking.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think–“
“It’s alright,” she said, though her voice was wistful and knowing. “I know I’m terrible at it.”
“But you’re not!”
“There’s no need to walk on eggshells around me, really. I’m well aware that I’m horrible at cooking, that I’ve given you all food poisoning more times than I can count, despite the way most of you lie to preserve my dignity.”
Lost for words, you weren’t quite sure of how to respond, chewing nervously on your lip and wringing your hands together. Then Kyoka told you to grab the gifts, clearly not wanting this interaction to become awkward or upsetting, and offered to wrap the gifts for you. With a relieved smile you scrambled out, fetching the bag of gifts you’d purchased or crafted for your friends. Upon your return, you noticed Kyoka had cleared the gifts she’d already wrapped and organised the table, with the paper, tape and pair of scissors neatly prepared for wrapping.
“It’s always awkward by yourself at first,” she murmured as she grabbed the first present from the bag and began wrapping, her movements clearly experienced and honed, anything but those of an awkward beginner. Nothing like you. “Sometimes it helps to have someone there to hold the tricky parts down, like when you first learn to tie shoelaces.”
Kyoka was certainly well past that stage, with her fingers gliding nimbly over the paper. Expert creases followed, neatly folded corners crisp and almost effortlessly executed.
In record time, she completed the simpler-shaped gifts, and you watched in open-mouthed awe as she moved on to the baki plush. With all its weird geometry and squishable, soft nature, you had no idea how anyone could wrap it, let alone manage to achieve something aesthetically pleasing. But somehow Kyoka did. She moved efficiently and effectively, expert precision in every minute movement of her fingers. The paper folded and creased and bent to her will, closing up around the baki in a perfect little parcel.
Soon, Kyoka finished wrapping all but one of the miscellaneous items. She’d finally made it to her own present, and it was anything but subtle — she’d know for certain she was the recipient. You’d noticed her collection of crystals and sparkly, pretty rocks, and so you’d made it your mission to obtain one she was missing. A yellow one was absent, which called for some research.
Citrine, or yellow quartz, apparently assists with cultivating optimism, cleansing the aura, and improving mental clarity. However that works. Regardless of whether you believed in the power of the sunny crystal, you hoped she’d appreciate the addition to her collection. That it’d make a perfect Christmas gift.
And, according the her gasp of surprise followed by joyous clapping, it was. You looked to find Kyoka smiling widely, a hand placed over her heart whilst the other held the crystal. “Y/N, I… this is so… I don’t have words for how thoughtful this was of you.”
You blinked. “Really?”
“It’s perfect, I love it!” She exclaimed, moving to envelope you in a tight hug.
“Kyoka, really, it’s nothing,” you squeaked out from somewhere inside her embrace, surrounded by the joy and gratitude she exuded, even when she released you, and even when she excitedly returned to wrapping her new crystal.
“It might not be the 25th yet,” she said, cradling her now-wrapped gift as she looked up at you and smiled widely, brightly. “But I don’t think it’s ever too early to have a merry Christmas!”
You chuckled a little, but your gratefulness towards Kyoka was no joke. She’d rescued you, single handedly saved your Christmas. You’d never be able to express just how much it meant to you. ”Merry Christmas to you too, Kyoka.”