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tsumugu kinagase, house 1477.

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mail, the 25th

[paramountcy]

[Christmas morning is exceptionally still. People are finding ways to spend the day with their families - real, found, or otherwise. Troubled by the events of the past week, Satsuki's put off her wrapping for too long. Everything she's wrapped has been handled with the intensity of a desperate but meticulous parent, fervent but somehow perfectly creased. Sitting in the back corner of the pile of doorstep-presents reserved for Tsumugu (everyone can tell it's his pile, objectively, probably because underpants are involved somewhere)...

Is absolutely nothing. A hollow wind whistles in the empty space a present could occupy. The cold winter snows blow by and accumulate and blow away again, never quite filling up the space, never quite covering up the absence.

ENORMOUS SNUB.]