Mizuki unlocked his door and stumbled inside, his body shivering with cold. His modest student apartment had central heating, but as it turned out, it took a while to thaw after spending hours outside in the frost. Moreover, he wasn’t used to this kind of below-zero blistering cold, or the Arctic air that swept through town. It wasn’t like winters weren’t cold at home, but not like this. It wasn’t even snowing properly.

Much to his chagrin, his uni friends had assured him that it would get worse.

At least he lived fairly close to campus, and didn’t have to rely on trains or other public transport that somehow always seemed to have trouble in this kind of weather.

You’d think they’d gotten used to winters by now, he thought, stamping his feet to rid himself of the slush on his shoes. He then carefully stepped out of them, dodging a puddle on the floor.

Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to deal with the flight chaos that came with the season. Having no real connection to Christmas meant he wasn’t obliged to return home during the break. Many of his course mates were fretting over the sky-rocketing airfare, and how the weather could sabotage their flights altogether. Worst case scenario, they’d have to spend Christmas at the airport.

Mizuki removed his thick winter coat, and stepped out of the small hallway and into his apartment. It was more like a room really. Tiny and monastic, but at least he had it to himself. The on-campus accommodation usually included roommates, something he was glad to be free of. He enjoyed his own company, and not having to deal with others invading his privacy.

He preferred to choose how and when to be social.

                                                         ❋❋❋❋

The plant he had received from the old man in the Santa suit caught his eye. It was still sitting on the shoe shelf, where he’d placed it while removing his coat. Pearls of moisture trickled down the cellophane wrapping.

Why did I bring this home with me.

Honestly, what was he supposed to do with a plant? He should’ve just left it on the table for the man to collect. But the guy had disappeared so fast, perplexing him… On the other hand, he’d been raised to be polite; chances were he wouldn’t have had the guts to give it back. He was already feeling bad about how gruff he’d been towards the old man.

With a sigh, he picked up the package and placed it on the small coffee table at the center of the room. It was a plain piece of IKEA furniture, without an ounce of aesthetic or personality. He missed his family’s kotatsu.

Even without the plastic, the plant looked out of place between the books strewn out on every available surface, the bowls in need of washing and not to mention the lack of decorations. And not only Christmas decorations either. His apartment was almost clinical; no posters or ornaments of any kind. No knick-knacks. The walls were a dull, naked yellow, save for a plain wall calendar above his desk.

And now he had a plant in the middle of the room; a bright red flower with deep greens leaves, sitting in a ceramic pot adorned with a green silk ribbon. And glitter.

The plant itself also seemed to be drenched in glitter.

“Bah,” Mizuki grumbled.

He cleared some of the books out of the way to make the table at least appear less crowded.

What had that old man called the plant again?

Point-something? And “Christmas star”. The flower appeared to be star shaped, even he could see that much.

Mizuki opened up his laptop and googled; 'Christmas star. Flower.'

From the hits he gathered that it wasn’t really a flower or a plant really, but rather a kind of small tree-like shrub. The name Poinsettia was a reference to the Star of Bethlehem. Apparently it was also toxic.

Well, wasn’t that something.

“I guess you capture the bittersweet feeling of Christmas pretty well then.” He said, immediately feeling like a dolt for talking to a plant.

It was only when Mizuki went to bed that night that he realized:

…How had the man in the Santa costume known his name?