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bi-naesala · 9 months

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Christmas Party

(Written as a gift for @gorokiichi for the @p3giftexchange . Happy holidays! I hope you enjoy the fic!)

Ken has never properly celebrated Christmas. His friends decide to do something about it.

(Tags: Christmas Party, Fluff, Light Angst, Team as Family)

AO3 link

(Fic under the cut)

Ken doesn’t really care about Christmas, but not by choice: it was a behavior he’s had to adopt in order not to get upset each year; between his mom having to work – she was raising Ken alone, she couldn’t afford taking too many days off – and the orphanage simply not caring enough to celebrate it each year – too many resources to dedicate for it – he’s learned to treat Christmas as one would treat any other day of the week.

It’s not like he ever felt like celebrating, after his mom died – he was never one for too much flair even before, after all – but she’d always find the time to at least spend the evening with him, or go eat dinner outside if she could make it in time, and to give him a gift – always small things because they couldn’t afford too much, but it meant the world to him anyway – but since staying at the orphanage, he’s learned not to wish for anything.

This year, Christmas will be different, as in he won’t be celebrating it at the orphanage, but in the dorm, with his new friends, the members of S.E.E.S., who have welcomed him as one of them – he doesn’t doubt his place among them anymore, not since, well, not since that happened.

Still, it’s unlikely they’ll actually do something for Christmas, not with all the things they already have on their plate – it would be a waste of time and energy, for something so insignificant in the grand scheme of things – or at least that’s what he thought, only to be proven wrong by his leader.

“What do you mean? You’ve never celebrated?” she asks him, once, while they’re hanging in the lounge room to watch TV. It was just a comment Ken made in passing, while suffering through the umpteenth ad break for Christmas products, but it’s made everyone’s head turn towards him; he doesn’t like the scrutiny.

He makes himself smaller on the couch, like that would be enough to shake their attention off of him. “Y-Yeah, I mean...” he stutters in reply. “It’s not a big deal, isn’t it?”

“Thinking about it, I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated it either...” Akihiko muses. “Just once, after I got adopted.” He then shrugs, like nothing about this is really important, which brings Ken some relief: at least he’s not the only one who thinks so!

Even Yukari chimes in, her expression turning sour as she speaks: “Ah, it’s been ages since I last celebrated. Me and dad used to make the biggest tree...”

Since he’s the only one from the old guard present at the moment, Hamuko turns towards Akihiko. “You’ve never celebrated at the dorms?” she asks, and when Akihiko shakes his head, a smile appears on her face. “That’s it, then: this year, we’re going to make the biggest Christmas party there has ever been!”

The news is met with silence, until Junpei, who still hasn’t said anything until then – Ken wonders if he celebrates with his father – raises his fist in the air.

“Hell yeah! Let’s do it!”

The motion for a Christmas party is approved by everyone, though some were more enthusiastic about it than others. Ken too doesn’t really know how to feel about it: he’s gone so long forcing himself to never desire anything for Christmas, and now, suddenly, he’s got an actual celebration. What is one supposed to do, during such an occasion? He has no idea.

He goes to Akihiko for counselling, even though he doesn’t really believe it’s going to help him; still, he wants to hear the opinion of someone who might understand how he feels. After October, the two of them have grown close, so even though he might not have something useful for him, talking to him will still bring him some comfort.

“What you should do?” Akihiko asks, stopping tormenting the punching bag to turn towards Ken. “You mean, for the party?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I’ve never done this before, I don’t know how I should act...”

For a moment, the only sound that can be heard is of Akihiko catching his breath, before joining Ken on the bed.

“I think you should be yourself. It’s just a party between us, after all, nothing formal.”

“You said you celebrated with your adopted family. What did you do?”

Akihiko chuckles nervously, looking away, but he still answers the question. “Oh, nothing much: we went eating outside, then we went around shopping. I wasn’t really in my best mood, so I don’t remember much else...”

There’s more to this story, Ken can tell, but he’s not sure if it is his place to ask for more, despite his curiosity.

“How about you go to Hamuko? I’m sure she can help you better than I can,” Akihiko continues, unaware of Ken’s internal monologue.

Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

He doesn’t know why he hesitates when he knocks on her door.

“Um, Hamuko-san?”

“Coming!”

The door bursts open almost immediately, making Ken flinch as it almost hits him. The one who’s just opened it isn’t Hamuko, however, but Aigis; a brief look inside the room reveals that their leader is at her desk, submersed in magazines.

“Don’t mind her,” she immediately says, referring to Aigis’s presence – as if by now everyone hasn’t gotten used to her peculiar attachment to Hamuko already – turning then to look at him. “What is it, Ken? Having problems with something?”

He shakes his head. He can’t deny that Aigis’ intense stare makes him feel too exposed, but he pushes through this feeling.

“I was just wondering... for the party...”

At those words, her expression turns into one of pure excitement. “Oh yes! Tell me! I have already organized everything. We just need to coordinate to get all we need and--”

“Um, I was wondering... Can I help?”

“Oh?” Hamuko starts, a bit flustered for having been caught right at the beginning of a rambling session. “Yes, yes of course! I have just the job for you!”

The job, apparently, is to decorate the lounge. Yukari and Junpei have gone out to buy some decorations they can use, but they still need to be hanged around.

“You could be our interior decorator,” Hamuko had suggested, and even though Ken knew nothing about the subject, he still agreed to it: he wanted to be useful.

At least he’s not alone: he has Aigis’ help for when he needs to reach particularly high places – it enrages him that he’s not tall enough to be able to do it on his own – and Koromaru’s, who’s there mostly for moral support, but his contribution is most appreciated nonetheless.

He’s not following a precise scheme when he tells Aigis that they should hang the wreath on that specific wall, or when he disposes the red candles on the table in groups, three on one side, four on the other; he’s just trying to remember how he used to imagine his home when he used to daydream about having a true Christmas celebration with his mom, before forcing himself to stop doing that. Of course, it won’t feel the same as it would’ve in the fantasy, but it’s okay: they can make something completely different, and it’ll be great either way, he’s sure of it.

He may not be contributing to much – most of the decorations are set by Aigis – but it still makes him feel like he's part of something.

They’re almost done with the room decorations, when he starts to smell something; whatever it is, it must be good.

Koromaru must agree with him, because he bolts to the kitchen, followed close by Ken. It looks like Hamuko is cooking, and he’s curious to discover what, since she’s been very secretive about it until now. If he's able, he'd even like to get a taste of it.

Unfortunately, neither of them can even make it to the kitchen, as Fuuka stands right outside of it.

“H-Halt!” she exclaims, in a failed attempt to sound intimidating. “Y-You can’t pass, orders from the chief!”

Ah, so she’s meant to keep others away while Hamuko works her magic. Makes sense, though it’s weird that she’s not been more involved, given how they pretty much cook everything together – it’s mostly Fuuka trying to copy what Hamuko is doing, to various degrees of success, though – but well, with Akihiko and Mitsuru still out, and Yukari and Junpei on the second floor, he supposes she was the only one readily available for the job.

“Fuuka-san, please! Just a peek?” Ken begs, accompanied by Koromaru’s sad whining – nice job, Koromaru! She won’t be able to say no to that for sure!

It does indeed seem that she’s about to crack, but then she finds her resolution again.

“N-No, I can’t!” Her expression turns softer. “Please, I can’t disappoint Hamuko-chan like this...”

Ken doesn’t roll his eyes only because he respects her too much for that, but she is being a bit too dramatic for something so little. Oh well, it’s obvious that he won’t be able to change her mind, so the kitchen will unfortunately remain inaccessible for a bit.

“Okay, Fuuka-san, we’ll behave,” he promises her.

After all, there’s still one more thing that needs to be taken care of, something he should get to as soon as he can.

When it comes to decorating the three, Junpei and Yukari give them a hand as well.

“We bought these decorations, we want to hang them too!” Junpei said. It’s not like Ken would’ve said no to free help, so he shrugged and let them do their thing.

Here they are, now, decorating the tree, with Ken taking care of the lower levels – where he can reach – while the others do the higher ones. He’s not much of a fan of these decorations, if he has to be honest: they’re too big, too loud – such a saturated red, it hurts his eyes if he looks at them for too long – but... when put together, it doesn’t look too bad. Maybe he’s saying that just because he contributed to making it, and he doesn’t want to say his work is bad, but eh, he doesn’t care.

Only one thing remains: the star at the top. Ken’s holding it and turning it in his hand – it’s shiny – before raising his gaze to the others. “I want to put it on,” he says, feeling extremely proud at the fact that he doesn’t stutter, standing tall. It’s childish to attribute so much importance to something like this, but that doesn’t change the fact that he wants to be the one to do it.

“Of course you can!” Yukari exclaims, immediately turning towards Junpei. “You help him.”

“What? Why me?” he replies, but knowing that Yukari won’t budge, he sighs, before turning towards Ken. “Alright, hop on in!”

He does exactly that, hopping on Junpei’s shoulders as he gets him to the top of the tree, Aigis standing not too far behind to catch him in case he gets dropped – he hopes that doesn’t happen.

It’s right then that Akihiko and Mitsuru make it back. They get inside hastily, shaking for the cold; held in their hands, there are bags full of what Ken assumes are gift – they’ve been tasked with getting something for everyone.

“Hi, senpai!” Yukari greets them, rushing to them in order to help with the bags.

“Hey, I’m sure glad to be back,” Akihiko comments, shivering as he shrugs off his jacket. Ah, it’s so warm inside.

Mitsuru is the first to notice Ken on Junpei’s shoulders. Her curiosity piqued, she walks towards them. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, just finishing up the tree!” Junpei replies, adjusting Ken on his shoulders. “C’mon, little man.”

Ken frowns at the nickname, but he still does as he said, finally putting the star at the top, with even some trepidation that he will later deny ever feeling, if somebody asks.

To be frank, he was expecting more “sparks”, for this moment to be more magical than what it’s actually been, but there’s still a sense of pride dwelling inside him for what he’s accomplished, even with the looks the others are giving him, like he’s just some kid, but just this once he supposes he can let it slide.

“Where is ev-- Oh, hey guys!”

After what feels like forever since she’s stepped inside the kitchen, Hamuko has finally joined them, followed by Fuuka.

“Um, dinner ready!” she announces.

“Who’s in the mood for some fried chicken?” Hamuko continues.

“That’s what you made?” Akihiko asks.

She nods. “Yeah! I figured we could eat something homemade here, instead of going out and freezing to death.”

Oh, so that’s what the smell was. At least Ken knows, now; he can’t wait to taste it.

Apparently, he’s not the only one, as Junpei immediately exclaims: “Dibs!”

They all reunite at the dinner table.

Junpei – who in the meantime has switched to a stupid Santa hat instead of his usual one – keeps chanting for Hamuko to bring out the food, a sentiment to which Ken agrees, sure, but jeez, must he be so childish about it?

And then, Hamuko and Fuuka finally start bringing their plates and o-oh, it looks so inviting... He wants to...

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Hamuko says, once she settles down with her plate as well. “Let’s dig in!”

It’s so tasty! As good as it looks!

Ken remembers getting fried chicken sometimes with his mom, but it had tasted nothing like this. Homemade really tastes better, though it’s also true that they’re lucky Hamuko is so good at basically everything.

He wonders if he would’ve enjoyed it.… Knowing him, he would’ve probably insisted on preparing it himself, or at least helping; would it have tasted different, had he contributed to it too?

Maybe he should visit him, wish him a merry Christmas as well. If not after dinner, maybe tomorrow? He glances at Akihiko; he’ll ask him if he wants to come with him – he’ll surely say yes, he doesn't doubt it - but not now: it’ll ruin the mood, and he doesn’t want that, not when he’s enjoying himself so much.

How long has it been since they’ve last eaten all together, or have simply talked about anything that wasn’t Tartarus related? For now, the most popular topic is guessing what kind of gift has been bought for them, which is a nice change – Ken can’t help but to wonder as well, though he supposes he’ll get to know soon enough.

And to think that, if he hadn’t made that comment that time, maybe none of this would’ve happened, maybe nobody would’ve thought to make a big party to celebrate Christmas together, but here they are now, having the time of their lives despite – or in spite? - of everything.

Is this how it feels, to have a true celebration with family? Ken doesn’t know, but he’s sure of one thing: if this isn't how it feels, then it’s definitely close, and for him, that’s more than enough.

#ken amada #shiomi kotone #akihiko sanada #aigis #koromaru #fuuka yamagishi #junpei iori #yukari takeba #mitsuri kirijo #persona #p3 #persona 3 #my fics #mine

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zecretsanta · 9 months

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Twelve Days of Carlosmas

To: @gorokiichi

From: @junpei-rights-activist

For the prompt: Snapshots of Carlos and Junpei spending the holidays together while Akane is away. Maybe Carlos turns on the radio to Christmas songs and Junpei is cranky about it because it’s too early in the morning, or Carlos fumbles when making a gingerbread house because his hands are too big. Up to you! I just really like slice of life with them.

I hope you enjoy and are okay with the amount of shippiness I included because it didn’t occur to me until I had already written it that I might have misinterpreted that part.

Junpei wasn’t above the simple pleasure of watching a strong man do hard work. Well, that was assuming stringing a house in Christmas lights was hard work— and it certainly appeared to be. Hell, Junpei was pretty sure he could catch a gleam of sweat on his forehead, even in the early December chill. He wore it well. Junpei didn’t comment.

“Did you want me to…I dunno…do something?” He figured it was fair enough to offer, even though he had no idea about any of this. He wasn’t exactly in the habit of climbing up ladders to put up lights just to climb up ladders and take them down again later. Still, it seemed important to Carlos, so he was happy enough to indulge.

“Just stand there and look pretty.” Junpei crossed his arms and scowled when Carlos looked over his shoulder from his perch, but he felt just a little warmer.

“What’s this?” Junpei observed the mug Carlos had placed in front of him on the table. It looked like the sort of monstrosity you could only find this time of year, though usually from some overpriced coffee shop. It was piled high with the kind of whipped cream that definitely came from a can and some crushed mix of chocolate and candy cane.

“Cocoa. Drink it.” Carlos crossed to take his own seat, another mug prepared for himself. Junpei was tempted to ask how, exactly, he was supposed to go about that. He opted to take a mouthful of the candy and cream instead. Not a bad combination, even if he hadn’t touched the chocolate yet.

“Thanks?” Even as this sort of consideration had become commonplace with Carlos in his life, Junpei wasn’t entirely accustomed to it. There was still a part of him that searched for some underlying motive. Carlos wasn’t that complicated, though. Junpei appreciated that, when he took the time to think about it.

“You’ve been down since Akane left.” Astute observation, if not a statement of the most absolute obvious.

“She’s coming back.” Junpei sounded more defensive than he meant to, but Carlos seemed to take it in stride. Whatever uncertainties he might have had were well enough founded after how long he’d been searching…

“Yeah. She’s visiting her brother right? No point sulking around until she comes home.” Junpei startled as Carlos reached across the table and swiped his thumb across his nose. He held it up to display a little dollop of whipped cream, then licked it clean. Junpei averted his eyes and took a too-big gulp of his cocoa. The heat prickled down his throat and overwhelmed his face but he gave a half-hearted shrug.

“Maybe.”

Carlos couldn’t carry a tune in a paper bag, not that his enthusiasm with early-morning festive cheer was any indication. Junpei tried covering his head with the blankets, then with the pillow, then gave up on hoping for that ten more minutes of sleep. If bedhead were a person, it was Junpei stumbling out of his bedroom to hone in on the source of the disturbance. He found Carlos singing along with the kitchen speaker while hanging something or another above the room’s entryway.

“Isn’t it a little early for that?” Junpei’s voice remained thick with sleep. Carlos looked amused.

“It’s Christmas. Have a little holiday spirit.” He let his arms fall and looked up at his mistletoe-y handiwork. Junpei looked up too, making a careful distance between himself and the sprig. It was definitely too early for that.

“It’s been December for maybe two days.”

“Fine. Almost Christmas.” Carlos tilted his head slightly, hands on his hips. He was glancing at Junpei but Junpei didn’t look back.

“Almost Christmas means it isn’t Christmas.” Carlos only put on a faux pout in response to this clarification.

“Now c’mon. Get decorating or go mope somewhere else.” Carlos gave him a soft punch to the shoulder then turned to hand him what had to be the world’s oldest, rattiest cardboard box. Junpei was inclined to hand it right back to him and take the moping option, but he decided better of it. It was almost Christmas, after all.

Junpei wasn’t sure how he felt about Carlos’s boundless holiday spirit. Depending on the time of day, the position of the stars, and how much Junpei had to drink, it would range between charming and mind-numbing. He had expected the movie marathon to be on the latter end. And he hadn’t been entirely wrong, either. They were all the same basic plot, the same basic story. Small-town girls and businessmen and miracles.

But it was nice when Carlos leaned into him on the couch. When their hands brushed against one another’s. When they shared a look or a laugh. It was nice enough that maybe it didn’t matter if the movies were all garbage and Carlos was hell-bent on driving him crazy for the next two and a half weeks. There was the fleeting possibility that this wasn’t all that bad.

“You’ve really never done this before, huh?” Carlos was squatting down, packing snow together in an oversized ball, rolling it around to reveal grass beneath and grow the icy orb. Junpei was right there next to him, observing with some skepticism.

“Never really had enough snow. Or yard.” Junpei shrugged it off. Carlos had enough of a lawn to sustain an entire family of snowmen by Junpei’s estimation, though he didn’t have the experience to back those claims. Carlos flashed him a smile and started rolling the growing ball in earnest, waddling down the lawn then back up in neat little lines.

“Maria and I used to do this every year. The first snow is always best for it.” However the memory made Carlos feel, he didn’t seem keen to show it. Instead, he rolled the ball back toward Junpei, then nudged it so Junpei could take over the rolling.

“How big do we make it?” The thing seemed to be rapidly expanding in mass and Junpei wasn’t really clear on the scale they were after here. Carlos was already hard at work constructing the next part of the snowman’s stacked body.

“As big as you want. I’ll pop the head on when you’re ready.” He gave a cheesy bicep flex then kept rolling. Junpei responded by rolling both the snowball and his eyes. And then a new thought occurred to him. He waited until Carlos was on a trip down the lawn, his back turned. Then he gathered up the snow in a rush, packed it into a ball, and aimed straight for his back.

Or, it would have been his back, had Carlos not turned around just in time to be nailed in the face. A comedy of errors in which Carlos was wiping his face while Junpei, in his haste to rush over and apologize, was slipping cartoonishly in the snow. Carlos accepted these apologies with a fair amount of laughter and a huge handful of snow down Junpei’s hood.

It was a fair bit more fun than Carlos had made it sound when he’d suggested the whole thing.

The apron Carlos was wearing hadn’t done much to keep him from making an absolute mess of himself. It seemed like their was flour streaked everywhere— across his cheek here, over his knuckles there, a smudge next to his eyebrow… Junpei felt an almost irresistible urge to walk over and wipe him clean.

Instead, he followed his nose to the oven and dropped to his knees to look in, the scent of the cookies erasing all else from his mind. They still had a good few minutes based on what he saw through the little glass window, but Junpei was drooling. He looked at Carlos again, with his apron and his flour and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Yeah, he was still drooling.

“How much longer?” He whined instead of taking any action, however tempting the alternative might have been.

The tree was too big.

Surely, Carlos had realized the tree was too big.

It took over the bulk of the living room, branches hanging dangerously close to the couch. Junpei thought it was a disaster waiting to happen, but that didn’t stop him from hanging another bauble on a branch. Yeah, it was way too big, but it made Carlos happy and that in turn made Junpei happy, even if he wasn’t always keen to admit it.

“So you like it?” Carlos hadn’t actually asked for an opinion since he went through the trouble of setting the thing up in its stand and smoothing out the skirt and hauling out what seemed like an endless number of ornament boxes. Hell, he’d probably started it all by chopping the thing down himself, knowing Carlos. Junpei was pretty sure he knew his way around an ax, as he could recall.

Junpei considered a sarcastic response, but he didn’t quite have the heart for it with the way Carlos’s eyes gleamed.

“Yeah. I like it.”

Junpei watched as Carlos slotted together the two large, square cookies at the corners. He was as delicate as he could manage while he pinched them together and reached for the cement-like frosting. Unfortunately, as it happened, that was not delicate enough. Junpei winced to see the gingerbread crumble beneath his fingers.

“Just let me help.” Junpei’s own attempt at cookie architecture hadn’t turned out half-bad, he had to admit. It wasn’t the fanciest thing, but if he were made out of gingerbread he wouldn’t be too ashamed to have some friends over for dinner. Carlos’s house looked like it probably sat on the other side of the tracks.

It wasn’t his fault, or at least Junpei couldn’t really blame him. He had such big hands for such delicate work. And while Junpei could imagine a thousand and one scenarios where strength and calluses could be major boons, building gingerbread houses didn’t seem to be one of them. Carlos swore under his breath as the whole wall came down before he could seal it up.

“Maybe you should leave the construction to me and worry about the decorating.” The way Carlos’s eyes lit up at the suggestion only confirmed Junpei’s suspicion that that was the part he was looking forward to in the first place.

“You don’t mind?” There was an eager puppy quality about him that made Junpei’s insides squirm.

“Knock yourself out.” He pretended to be just as focused on repairing Carlos’s disastrous attempts as he could be, but Junpei was absolutely watching that childlike glee from the corner of his eye.

“Carlos…did you embroider these yourself?” Junpei stared at the stockings on the wall. They hung beneath the TV, for lack of a proper mantel, and each was emblazoned with one of their names. Junpei had the distinct impression that Carlos wasn’t able to pick these up at the superstore.

“I didn’t want you guys to feel left out.” Akane couldn’t have felt left out, not having been there at all, but that hadn’t stopped Carlos. It was sweet, the sort of sweet little thing that always took Junpei by surprise, even if it shouldn’t have by this point. Maria and Carlos had their own, much older, versions in that line. It was a heartfelt gesture. Junpei didn’t always know what to do with those.

“Well…they look good. I mean, uh, thanks.” He rubbed the back of his head and flashed a smile. “Kinda like a real family.” Carlos smiled back at him.

“Yeah. Kinda like that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to put liquor in this?” Junpei swirled his small glass of egg nog disdainfully, his nose scrunched up. Some people might have braced themselves for the impact of spiced rum. Junpei should have braced himself for the absence of it. He wasn’t a fan of festive drinks that didn’t inherently make him feel more festive. And no amount of nutmeg was gonna do it in this case.

“You can,” Carlos admitted over a sip of his own glass, “but then you end up on the naughty list.”

“Maybe I want to be naughty.” Junpei huffed.

“I bet you do.”

Junpei stared at the television screen with the sort of awe this particular programming had never before inspired.

“Carlos. Why are you watching a log?” As confounding as the guy could be, this was taking it to new extremes.

“It’s a yule log.” As if that explained it.

“What the hell is a yule log?” Junpei looked at Carlos then back on the screen. He was currently enjoying the HD surround sound version of a log crackling in the fire. This one was well beyond him.

“I mean it’s…a log. For Yule…” Carlos’s voice trailed off. God help them both, he didn’t really know either, did he? “I don’t know, it’s festive. You put it on and you feel cozy. Isn’t that enough?” Junpei covered his face with one hand.

“I guess it’s better than the romcoms.”

“Junpei, could you come here a sec?” Carlos’s voice rang from the edge of the kitchen, drawing Junpei away from some holiday-themed comedy. It was, as with the yule log, better than some of the alternatives. Still, he was happy enough to abandon his post and attend to whatever need Carlos had.

“What’s up?” Junpei stopped in the doorway to the kitchen where Carlos met him, spoon in hand with his hand carefully cradling beneath to catch any spills.

“Try this.” Carlos didn’t wait for Junpei’s acceptance to lift the spoon to his lips. Junpei didn’t reject it though and sipped down whatever it was Carlos was making. Soup, nice and hot, and damn good. Junpei shot him a look that said as much.

“The fact that you can cook on top of everything else is just unfair. Leave something for the rest of us.” Junpei’s pouting was in jest, of course, and Carlos’s eyes only flashed with a hint of…something… while he stepped closer to Junpei.

“Hey.” He leaned in, over, close. Really close. Body heat on Junpei’s skin close. “Notice where you’re standing?”

And Junpei hadn’t noticed, until that moment. He hadn’t necessarily been avoiding the mistletoe, but he also hadn’t been making himself an easy target. Not that Carlos would have pressed if Junpei had given any indication of real discomfort. Still, it was a bit embarrassing, even if it was only the two of them. The way he could smell Carlos’s cologne and feel his warmth, practically taste him through the broth.

“Is that why you called me over?” Junpei’s accusation was met with a smirk. Carlos grasped Junpei’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted his face upward.

“Maybe. Is that why you’re still standing here?” So close.

So close.

“Maybe.”

#submission #ztd #carlos/junpei #gorokiichi #junpei-rights-activist #zecret santa 2023

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