December 25, GE 246

  Snow fell softly over Amber City, covering the cobblestones in white and making the lamps glow like warm stars in the early morning dark. Ciel pressed his face against the cold window glass, watching fat snowflakes drift past while his breath fogged the pane.

  "It's really coming down," he said quietly.

  Behind him, footsteps padded across the wooden floor. Small hands grabbed his shirt.

  "IS IT CHRISTMAS YET?" Eren's voice was way too loud for five in the morning. "Can we open presents? Did Santa come? Did he bring the toy I asked for?"

  "Eren." Ciel turned around to find his twelve-year-old brother vibrating with barely contained energy, still in his pajamas with his hair sticking up at weird angles. "Mom and Dad are still sleeping."

  "But it's Christmas!" Eren bounced on his toes. "We're supposed to wake up early on Christmas! That's the rule!"

  "The rule is we wait until a reasonable time—"

  "Six AM is reasonable!"

  "It's five."

  Eren's face fell. "Oh." Then he brightened immediately. "Well, we could just wait here by the window! And watch the snow! And maybe talk really loud until Mom and Dad wake up!"

  Ciel sighed, but he was smiling. "Fine. But you have to be quiet."

  "I can be quiet!" Eren whispered at a volume that was still basically his normal talking voice. He pressed his face against the window next to Ciel. "Look at all that snow! There's like... a million snowflakes! No, a billion! We're definitely building the biggest snowman ever!"

  "If it sticks. This looks pretty powdery."

  "It'll stick! Snow always sticks!" Eren's breath was fogging up the whole window now. "We can make a huge one with a carrot nose and—oh! We could use those dark stones from the garden for eyes, and give him a scarf, and maybe a hat—"

  "Where are we getting a hat big enough for a snowman?"

  "We'll make one! Out of... out of snow! A snow-hat for a snow-man!"

  "That's just more snowman."

  "Exactly! It's genius!" Eren grinned at him. "You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."

  "I'm devastated."

  "You should be!" Eren pressed his forehead against the glass, watching the snow pile up on the windowsill. "Hey, Ciel?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Do you think Mom and Dad got me the dragon toy? The one with the wings that actually move?"

  "Maybe. I don't know what they got you."

  "What if they forgot? What if Santa thought I was bad this year?" Eren's voice had gone small and worried.

  "I wasn't that bad. Right?"

  "You broke Mom's favorite mug."

  "By accident."

  "And you got mud all over Dad's good boots."

  "Also by accident."

  "And when you drew on the wall in the kitchen—"

  "Okay, that one was on purpose."

  "But I said sorry!" Eren turned to look at him, eyes wide. "You think Santa counts apologies?"

  Ciel ruffled his brother's messy hair. "I think you're fine. Besides, Mom and Dad don't care about Santa—they get you stuff because they love you, not because you were perfect."

  "Really?"

  "Really. Even when you're annoying."

  "I'm not annoying!"

  "You woke me up at five in the morning."

  "That's not annoying, that's enthusiasm!"

  Ciel laughed softly. "Sure, buddy. That's what we'll call it."

  They went back to watching the snow in comfortable silence. Well, Eren's version of silence, which involved humming and occasionally pointing out particularly interesting snowflakes and asking questions like "Do you think snow tastes different in different cities?" and "If you ate only snow for a whole day, would you turn into a snowman?"

  The sky was starting to lighten—not quite dawn yet, but getting there. The Dawn Guild's towers looked like ice sculptures in the early light, and someone had strung lights along the main street that glowed soft and warm under their coating of snow.

  "It's really pretty," Eren said quietly, which was the most serious Ciel had heard him all morning.

  "Yeah. It is."

  "I like Christmas," Eren continued, still staring out at the snowy city. "Everything feels... I don't know. Nice. Like nothing bad can happen today."

  "Nothing bad is going to happen."

  "You promise?"

  "I promise."

  Eren grinned suddenly. "Even if I accidentally break something else?"

  "Don't push it."

  A light flickered on downstairs. Then another. The soft sound of their mother moving around in the kitchen drifted up through the floorboards, followed by the deeper rumble of their father's voice.

  Eren's eyes went huge. "They're awake! Can we go down now? Please? Please please please—"

  "Yes, you menace. We can go down."

  "YES!" Eren was off like a shot, thundering down the stairs while yelling "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" at a volume that probably woke half the neighborhood. Ciel heard their mother's surprised laugh and their father's amused voice saying something about "small hurricanes."

  Ciel followed at a normal pace, shaking his head and smiling. Some things never changed.

  The kitchen was already warm when Ciel made it downstairs. Eve stood at the stove, still in her robe, stirring something that smelled like cinnamon and sugar. Arthur sat at the table, looking far too awake for someone who'd just been woken up by a small hurricane.

  Eren had already claimed his spot at the table and was drumming his fingers on the wood, making a rhythm that was probably supposed to be a Christmas song but sounded more like random tapping.

  "Merry Christmas," Eve said, turning to smile at Ciel. "Did someone forget to teach Eren about sleeping in on holidays?"

  "I tried," Ciel said, sliding into his chair. "He had opinions."

  "Six AM is totally reasonable!" Eren protested. "Some people get up even earlier! Like farmers! And... and bakers! And guards on the walls!"

  "You're not a farmer, baker, or guard," Arthur pointed out, but his voice was warm with amusement.

  "Well, maybe I will be! You don't know!" Eren grabbed a piece of bread from the basket in the center of the table. "Maybe I'll awaken as Infinite Farmer and grow the best crops in the whole world!"

  "Infinite Farmer isn't a real class," Ciel said.

  "It could be! You don't know what classes exist!"

  Eve set a plate of sweet rolls on the table—the special ones she only made for holidays, with icing and dried fruit. "How about we eat first, and then we can do presents?"

  "Eat first," Eren repeated, nodding seriously. "I can do that. I'm very good at eating." He immediately grabbed a sweet roll and took the biggest bite Ciel had ever seen, getting icing on his nose in the process.

  "Very graceful," Ciel said.

  "Fank oo," Eren replied with his mouth full.

  "Don't talk with your mouth full," Eve said automatically, but she was smiling as she sat down with her own tea.

  Arthur reached over and wiped the icing off Eren's nose with his napkin. "Try to get the food in your mouth, not on your face."

  "I was saving it for later!"

  "That's what plates are for."

  "But faces are more convenient!"

  They ate breakfast together, and it was nice. The kind of nice that didn't need anything special—just family and warm food and the sound of Eren chattering about everything and nothing. He went from talking about snow to wondering if dragons liked Christmas to asking if awakened healers could heal plants to declaring that he was definitely going to learn how to make sweet rolls when he got older because these were the best things ever.

  "Can I have another one?" Eren asked, eyeing the basket.

  "You've had two already," Eve said.

  "But they're so good! Please? It's Christmas!"

  "One more. And then you're done, or you'll make yourself sick."

  "I won't get sick! My stomach is super strong!" But Eren grabbed the third roll carefully, like it was precious. "Thank you, Mom. You're the best cook in the whole world."

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  Eve's expression softened. "You're welcome, baby."

  "I'm not a baby! I'm twelve!"

  "You'll always be my baby," Eve said, which made Eren groan but also smile.

  When breakfast finally ended—after Eren had eaten his third sweet roll very slowly to make it last—they all moved to the living room. Someone (probably their mother) had decorated the small tree in the corner with paper ornaments and tiny lights that twinkled like stars. A handful of wrapped packages sat underneath, nothing fancy but carefully wrapped, and Eren made a sound like a strangled squeak.

  "Presents!" He started to lunge forward, then stopped and looked at their parents. "Can I—am I allowed to—"

  "Yes, you can hand them out," Eve said, settling onto the couch next to Arthur. "But slowly. We're going to actually enjoy this instead of tearing through everything like wild animals."

  "I'm not a wild animal," Eren muttered, but he carefully picked up the first package and squinted at the tag. "This one says... um... 'To: Eren, From: Mom and Dad.'"

  He sat down cross-legged on the floor and started unwrapping it with exaggerated care, like he was defusing a bomb. Inside was a sketchbook—the expensive kind with thick paper—and a set of colored pencils that made Eren's eyes go huge.

  "These are the good ones," he breathed, holding up the tin like it was treasure. "The ones that don't break when you press too hard!" He looked up at their parents, eyes shining. "Really? I can really have these?"

  "We noticed your old ones were getting pretty worn out," Eve said softly. "Thought you might like new ones."

  "Like them? I LOVE them!" Eren launched himself at their mother for a hug that nearly knocked her off the couch. "Thank you thank you thank you! I'm going to draw SO many pictures! The best pictures ever! I'll draw one of all of us, and one of the house, and one of Dad fighting monsters, and one of Mom healing people, and—"

  "Breathe, Eren," Arthur said, but he was smiling as he ruffled his son's hair. "We're looking forward to seeing them all."

  Eren pulled back, clutching his new art supplies like they might disappear. "Can I draw something right now?"

  "After we finish with presents," Eve said. "There are more to open."

  "Oh! Right!" Eren scrambled back to the tree. "Um... this one's for Ciel! From Mom and Dad!"

  He handed it over carefully, and Ciel unwrapped the paper to find a leather journal inside. The leather was soft and well-made, bound with good stitching, and filled with blank pages.

  "For writing stuff down," Arthur explained. "You're always thinking about things, figuring out how stuff works. Thought you might want a proper place to keep track of it all."

  "We could have gotten you something more fun," Eve added quickly. "But we thought—"

  "It's perfect," Ciel interrupted, running his fingers over the smooth leather cover. He'd been using scraps of paper for his notes, stuffing them in his pockets and losing half of them. But this was his. A real journal, just for him. "Thank you. Really."

  Eve smiled, looking relieved. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

  "My turn!" Eren grabbed two more packages. "These are from me! To Mom and Dad!"

  Arthur opened his first—a drawing of their family done in pencil, everyone standing in front of their house. The lines were a bit wobbly and Eren had made everyone's heads slightly too big, but it was clearly them. Arthur stared at it for a long moment, then cleared his throat. "Eren. This is really good."

  "You think so?" Eren perked up. "I worked super hard on it! I had to erase Dad's face like five times because I kept making his nose weird!"

  "My nose isn't weird."

  "It's a little weird. But in a good way! A strong way!" Eren turned to watch their mother open her present, which was another drawing—this one just of her, but done with a lot of care. "Do you like it, Mom?"

  Eve pressed the drawing to her chest, eyes bright. "I love it, baby. It's beautiful. We're going to frame both of these and put them up."

  "Really?" Eren looked like he might explode with happiness. "On the wall? Where people can see?"

  "Absolutely," Arthur said firmly. "These are going right in the hallway."

  "YES!" Eren pumped his fist in the air.

  The gift exchange continued. Eren got Ciel a set of bookmarks he'd made himself—they were a bit crooked and one had a suspicious stain on it, but they were clearly made with effort. Ciel had saved up to buy Eren a set of miniature adventurer figures he'd been staring at in the market window for months.

  The shriek Eren let out probably violated several noise laws.

  "THESE ARE THE DELUXE ONES!" He clutched the box like it contained diamonds. "With the moving arms and the little weapons and—Ciel! These cost so much money! You didn't have to—"

  "I wanted to," Ciel said simply.

  "But—but this is like—this must have been all your savings!"

  "It's fine."

  "You're the best brother ever!" Eren threw his arms around Ciel in a hug that nearly knocked them both over. "The best! I'm going to take such good care of these! I'll never lose a single piece! I promise!"

  "I know you will."

  Arthur got Eve a new healer's kit, and she got him a whetstone set for his weapons. They both looked at their gifts like they'd received something precious, which Ciel guessed they had—not because the items were expensive, but because they were exactly right.

  When all the presents were opened, they sat in the living room surrounded by wrapping paper and ribbon, and Eren was making his new adventurer figures have an elaborate battle on the floor while providing all the sound effects himself.

  "Clash! Bang! 'Take that, evil monster!' 'Noooo, you have defeated me!' Swoosh!"

  "You're doing all the voices," Ciel observed.

  "Because I'm good at it! Listen—" Eren made his voice go deep and gravelly. "'I am the Dark Lord of the Mountain and I will destroy you all!' See? Scary!"

  "Terrifying."

  "I know, right?" Eren grinned and went back to his battle, which now involved at least three different storylines happening simultaneously.

  Arthur caught Ciel's eye and smiled, and Ciel smiled back. This was good. Really good. Not because anything amazing had happened, but because it was just... them. Together. Happy.

  After a while, Eren looked up from his toys, hair even messier than before. "Can we go build a snowman now?"

  Eve glanced at the window, where snow was still falling steadily. "It's really coming down out there."

  "Please? We can bundle up really warm! I'll wear two coats!"

  "You don't have two coats," Ciel pointed out.

  "I'll wear one coat and one blanket!"

  "That's not how clothes work."

  "It's how snow clothes work!"

  Arthur stood up, stretching. "Alright, alright. We'll go out and see if the snow is good for building. But everyone bundles up properly first."

  "YES!" Eren jumped to his feet. "I'm going to build the biggest snowman in the whole city! No—the whole world! It'll be so big they'll see it from the Dawn Guild towers!"

  "You're going to build a snowman taller than the towers?" Ciel asked.

  "Maybe! I'll try really hard!"

  Twenty minutes later, they were all outside, properly bundled in coats and scarves and gloves. The snow was still falling, fat flakes that stuck in their hair and melted on their cheeks. Eren immediately tried to make a snowball, but it crumbled apart in his hands.

  "Why isn't it sticking?" He looked at the powder falling through his fingers like it had personally betrayed him.

  "Too dry," Arthur said, crouching down to check. "This kind is good for playing in, but not for building. You need wetter snow for that."

  Eren's face fell. "But I wanted to build a snowman!"

  "We could just play in it instead?" Eve suggested.

  "But—"

  A snowball hit Eren in the back.

  Everyone turned to look at Ciel, who was already packing another one with a completely innocent expression. "What? You wanted to play in the snow."

  Eren's face transformed from disappointment to pure joy in about half a second. "SNOWBALL WAR!"

  And then it was chaos.

  Eren started throwing snow everywhere, laughing like a maniac even though most of his throws didn't come close to hitting anyone. "Take that! And that! You can't escape my snow powers!"

  "Your snow powers need work!" Ciel called back, ducking behind the garden wall.

  "No hiding! That's cheating!"

  "It's not cheating, it's called being smart!"

  "That's the same thing!"

  A perfectly-aimed snowball from their father's direction caught Ciel in the face, spraying snow everywhere. "Walls don't help if someone flanks you, son!"

  "I wasn't ready!"

  "That's why it worked!" Arthur was already packing another one.

  Eve, who had somehow gotten behind the well without anyone noticing, threw one that hit Arthur square in the back of the head. "Distracted, dear?"

  "You sneak!" Arthur whirled around, laughing.

  "Healer doesn't mean I can't aim!"

  Eren had started just throwing armfuls of loose snow instead of making actual snowballs. "SNOW ATTACK! EVERYONE GETS SNOW!"

  "That's not how snowball fights work!" Ciel yelled.

  "It's how my snowball fights work!"

  They played until they were all soaked and freezing, cheeks red from cold and laughing too hard. Eren had somehow gotten snow down his coat and was complaining loudly about it while still trying to throw more at everyone else. Arthur and Eve were both covered in white, and Ciel's gloves were so wet they were basically useless.

  The sun had fully risen by then, painting the snow in shades of pink and gold. Amber City looked like a painting, all white roofs and glowing windows and smoke rising from chimneys.

  "Okay, everyone inside," Eve announced, brushing snow off her coat. "Before we all freeze solid."

  "I'm not cold!" Eren protested, then immediately shivered. "Okay, maybe a little cold."

  "A little?" Arthur ruffled his hair, sending a small shower of snow everywhere. "You're turning blue, buddy."

  "I am not!" But Eren didn't argue when their father steered him back toward the house.

  Inside, the warmth hit them like a wave. Eve handed out towels and started heating milk while Arthur got the fireplace going. Within minutes, the living room was cozy and bright, and everyone had a mug of hot chocolate that was probably more marshmallow than actual drink.

  Eren claimed the spot right in front of the fireplace, holding his mug with both hands. "This is the best hot chocolate ever."

  "You say that every time I make it," Eve said.

  "Because it's true every time!"

  Ciel settled on the floor next to his brother, feeling the warmth from the fire seep into his cold fingers. His clothes were damp and his hair was a mess and he was pretty sure he had snow melting down his back, but somehow he didn't care.

  "That was fun," he said.

  "So fun!" Eren agreed. "Did you see when I threw snow at Dad and it went everywhere except on him?"

  "I saw."

  "I almost got him though! Like, really close!"

  "Sure, buddy."

  "I did! Next time I'll get him for real!" Eren took a huge gulp of hot chocolate, giving himself a marshmallow mustache. "Hey, brother?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Thanks. For the toys. And for playing with me. And for not getting mad when I woke you up early."

  Ciel bumped his shoulder against Eren's. "That's what brothers are for."

  "Even when I'm annoying?"

  "Especially when you're annoying."

  Eren grinned and leaned against his side, still clutching his hot chocolate. They sat like that for a while, watching the fire and listening to the wind outside and the sound of their parents talking softly behind them.

  Arthur was telling Eve about some funny thing that had happened during his last guard shift, and she was laughing, and Eren was humming some made-up song under his breath while he drew patterns in the steam from his mug.

  This was nice, Ciel thought. Really nice. Not exciting or special in any big way—just normal family stuff. But sometimes normal was exactly right.

  "Hey, Ciel?" Eren said again, quieter this time.

  "Mm?"

  "I'm glad we're brothers."

  Something warm settled in Ciel's chest, having nothing to do with the fire or the hot chocolate. "Yeah. Me too."

  "Even though I'm annoying?"

  "You're not that annoying."

  "Really?"

  "Really. Most of the time."

  "What about the rest of the time?"

  "The rest of the time you're extremely annoying."

  Eren laughed, the sound bright and happy, and Ciel smiled into his mug.

  The afternoon drifted by in comfortable laziness. Eren eventually got his new sketchbook and started drawing an elaborate scene of their snowball fight, complete with action lines and everyone making exaggerated faces. Arthur read his book by the fire. Eve mended some clothes that had been sitting in the basket for weeks.

  Ciel opened his new journal to the first page, stared at it for a minute, then carefully wrote:

  December 25, GE 246

  Christmas was good. We got presents and had a snowball fight. Eren woke me up at five in the morning but it was okay. Everything was nice.

  He stared at what he'd written, then added:

  I like days like this. Where nothing special happens but it's still really good. I hope we have more days like this.

  He closed the journal carefully and set it aside. Tomorrow would come with all its normal stuff—chores and training and regular life. But today was Christmas, and it was perfect exactly as it was.

  "Brother!" Eren called from his spot by the fire. "Come look at this drawing! I made your snowball huge, like the size of a house!"

  "That's not what happened."

  "Artistic interpretation! Come see!"

  Ciel got up and went to look, and Eren was right—the snowball in the drawing was absolutely enormous, and Ciel's face was drawn with this super serious expression like he was throwing something that weighed a thousand pounds.

  "This is ridiculous," Ciel said.

  "It's art!" Eren protested. "You can't criticize art!"

  "I'm pretty sure you can."

  "Well, I don't accept criticism! Only compliments!"

  "Fine. It's very... creative."

  "Thank you!" Eren beamed like he'd just received the best compliment ever. "See? You do know how to be nice!"

  "Don't push it."

  But Ciel was smiling as he settled back down, and Eren was grinning as he went back to his drawing, and outside the snow kept falling soft and quiet over Amber City.

  Later, much later, when Eren had fallen asleep by the fire and their parents had carried him up to bed, Ciel stood at his window again. The snow had finally stopped, and the city glittered under the moonlight like someone had covered everything in diamonds.

  His new journal sat on his desk, and he picked it up again, opening to the page he'd written on earlier. He read his words, then added one more line:

  This was a really good Christmas. Maybe the best one yet.

  He set the journal down and climbed into bed, tired in the good way that came from a day spent well. Outside his window, Amber City slept under its blanket of snow. Inside, his family slept too, warm and safe.

  And as Ciel drifted off, he thought about how sometimes the best days weren't the ones where big things happened. Sometimes they were just days like this—normal and quiet and full of the people you loved.

  Tomorrow would bring whatever it brought. But today had been perfect.

  And that was more than enough.

  End of Christmas Special