It's Christmas time...

[greatseal]

Who: Minako Arisato, Shinjiro Aragaki, and anyone who wants to run across them
Where: Libra district, then around Virgo and Scorpio districts
Summary: Despite the weird weather, Minako attempts to take Shinjiro out on a Christmas Eve date.
Warnings: Embarrassing lovey-dovey stuff. We'll see if Shinji's dignity survives.


Around 10 in the morning, Dec. 24th, a short text message appears on Shinjiro's COMP. Hopefully, it's not that unexpected.

Hey Senpai, merry Christmas Eve! ヾ(＾∇＾)*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Don't make any plans for this evening, okay?

Of course, he's actually free to make plans, as long as they involve her. This is the first Christmas they've gotten to spend together. She wants to monopolize his time, at least for a little while.

In the late afternoon, as the sun is just beginning to set, the two of them set out into the city, trying to avoid the worst of the Jack mess. It isn't the best conditions for a date but Minako isn't about to let a little fight between demons get in the way of enjoying the holiday. Minako's chosen a coat that is easy enough to unbutton in the warmer sections of the city, but still protect from the snow.

The goal is to view the Christmas decorations around the city, see some interesting venues, go somewhere nice for dinner and basically spend time together. That is... as long as nothing, or no one, gets in their way.

Comments

[themortalhalf]

It's not unexpected.

He had seen this coming months ago. And if she hadn't asked, she would have been expecting him to ask, and he would have done it. Which means, of course, Shinjiro had prepared for both scenarios. This route just saves him a bit of dignity—a few kilobytes worth, at any rate. Some that he'll probably end up needing before the night is through.

Damn holidays. Hyping things up until expectations were ridiculous. All it is is perfection in the name of commercialism that enjoyed its hefty price tag, buoyed into public acceptance and Japanese tradition by overly romanticized nonsense.

And Shinjiro is no good at this kind of thing.

Not overtly.

And there is no way in hell you can be clandestine on Christmas Eve, really. Once you stepped out the door with a girl, you were One of Them.

And while he doesn't mind people knowing per se, not at this point, there is a part of him that still recoils at the idea of being so transparent. Even though it's... not really a bad thing.

But there's nothing to be done about it, and now he is One of Them.

And being One of Them has rules and shit.

…most of which he is quite content to murder while Minako isn't looking.

But the other remaining things aren't about to be snuffed out so quietly. So he'll adhere to those rules—that were really more like guidelines once Shinjiro got through with them—as best he can, because for all his reluctance, as much as he feels like a foreign body in a unfamiliar system, she deserves to have her holiday. ...Even if it's filled with people who probably won't mind their own business, thick crowds, Jack-fueled chaos and noise—everything that is a direct antithesis of the person he is now. She deserves to see the lights. She deserves to go somewhere nice. And she deserves to be normal. He likes her best when she's happy, and he likes being with her, even in situations like this when he doesn't mesh well.

Today is just going to kill him, is all. Not a big deal.

He's made reservations at a restaurant already, at a nice enough one that has good food at a decent price that isn't so cheap you could find coupons for it (because though he was practical, he wasn't some cheapskate when it came to good food, at least). If she wants to go somewhere else, he can cancel it and make some poor guy's day. Afterwards, she'd want to walk around, do something social enough that he'll probably end up looking like a moron (but he'll bear it), and look at all the Christmas decorations he's never really had reason to care about. When night hits properly she'll probably enjoy seeing all the lights, provided the demons running around don't screw things up.

And once all that is over, they can go home and unwind.

And then, finally, he can have permission to die quietly with whatever remains of his dignity.

But until then, he has to survive.

So he had grabbed his coat and shoved his beanie into his coat pocket (like it's some kind of goddamn security blanket), and set off, keeping to the slightly colder pockets of the Jack turf war as he takes her towards the station. For what it's worth, he likes the snowier side better. They don't try to set wolf-dogs on fire.

"I made dinner reservations at six," he says, allowing one of his hands to keep hold of hers, though his face is eternally impassive, "but we can walk around 'til then, if you want. Got any place you wanna go?"