untitled fanfic

*A/N: I am, to tell the truth, not very clear about Sho's personality, but it's by instinct that I decided to write about him. In fact I don’t think I am exactly very accurate in portraying any JE idol in fanfics, because I have never known them personally. ...Apologies for the cheesiness!!

"Sakurai-san, over here!" "Sakurai-san, here's your schedule!" "Sho-kun, you are required to wear this..."

"IS THAT SAKURAI SHO?!"

I froze for a moment but very quickly continued to walk as per normal, trying to ignore the comments. It was a hard day at work, more so over Christmas because we had extra programmes to go on, and a truckload of additional Christmas projects. It's been Sakurai-san this, Sakurai-san that... And the last thing I wanted was fans stalking me, even though I appreciated them. I wanted to scream right in the middle of that busy street but I couldn't.

If I slowed down, everyone whizzed past quicker. If I picked up speed it made me so weary I could fall.

At last my feet took a turn away from the main crowd, and I eventually found myself at the train station. Do it, I told myself. Do it! I stared at the train map, neither here nor there. I have always been mentally pushing myself on, and pushing others on, but even the strongest man made of steel will collapse.

December. I looked up at the snow. I had already gotten on the train. I like trains. I can sit on them and think quietly. Times like these have been rare. It was very late already, but there wasn't any activity the next day, so I thought it was alright. It wasn't going to be a long trip.

I watched the snowflakes fall gently and cling on to the window pane, and they in turn guided the lids of my eyes, until I fell into slumber land.

I saw behind my lids, an image of a Christmas a few years ago, where my best buddy and I were at the airport on Christmas morning. He was moving, and we could not see each other as often anymore. It was he who had taught me the spirit of Christmas. We shared, and we celebrated the joy of joy. He made me understand what Christmas was about. When we arrived at the airport, we did not say anything, but punched our fists together (cap 3) and smiled. But as he turned his back, I could almost see through him and I knew a tear had just trickled down his cheek. Could I still find the meaning of Christmas back without him?

A sudden jerk from the train woke me up as I stumbled forward and hit the railing. But before I could even complain of the pain, I looked out the window and realised I had come further than I intended to, and I had landed up in some rural area of the country. I was worried, for it was already past midnight, but at the same time, a part of me felt excited, almost rebellious.

I alighted at the next stop, checking out of the station. It would sound like a queer fairy tale to say this, but I had landed up in a rural area, one which looked like a traditional Japanese town from the olden days, one I never knew existed, and curiosity took me further into the heart of this town, so beautiful yet mysterious such that I felt as if I had entered a different world. The streets were quiet, untainted with the commercialized Christmas decorations of today, and in fact, not a single trace of Christmas, save the mild snow.

In the dim streets lit by the weak light of street lamps, I trudged along, and, as though in a dream, a house caught my eye, no different from the others, but yet captivating all the same. A female figure was sitting on the steps of the house, resting her head against a wooden pole on the doorstep of her home. She was clad in a white kimono, bare-footed in the snow, her toes curling inwards. I pretty soon realised everyone around here wore kimono, but still, I kept my eyes on her. I don't know how long I stared, but she suddenly stirred, as though roused by my gaze. She slowly lifted her eyelids, and looked in my direction, and we stared at each other for some time.

Then I jumped suddenly, remembering my manners, and bowed. As I did so, a heap of snow fell from my hair and coat. Did I stand here this long? When I lifted my head again, I found her making her way to me, her bare feet on the snow. The moment she got off the steps of her house, her white kimono seemed to have melted right into the snow, and she appeared as though to be a goddess of snow. She was not very beautiful, but she had clear features which made her beautiful in the snow.

She stopped right in front of me, but did not say anything, merely looking at me and my dressing. I could not decipher what was running through her mind. In a fit of nervousness and tension, I blurted out the first thing which came to my mind:

"...Merry Christmas!"

I felt the heat rush up to my cheeks.

"...Christmas?" she asked. The staring continued.

Then it dawned on me that she did not know about Christmas. I started to look around, wondering if I, indeed, had fallen into another world just like Alice in Wonderland. I suddenly sneezed, and apologized, and she smiled, offering to take me into her house.

I had tea, and all the while she looked at me, her eyes conveying the message that she was immensely intrigued by my presence. For what reason, I do not know. But finally, I asked, "...is there something wrong with me?"
And she gave me a reply I did not expect.

"I don't know, because I don't know you yet."

"What is your name?"

"Mizuno Sachiko. May I know yours, sir?"

Sir? "Sakurai Sho. Nice to meet you."

"What's Christmas?" she suddenly asked, and her face lit up with curiosity, like a child who was about to receive a present for Christmas.

"Well... Christmas is a day where-" And then I paused. I realised that I did not know the answer to that simple question. What IS Christmas? I had been working so hard at keeping the media off my tail that I had never stopped to consider that question. Now that I realize that I could not answer it, it dawned on me that I had lost the spirit of Christmas, even though I was not a Christian. She waited intently for my answer. Then I made another attempt, retrieving the photo I had in my wallet of the Tokyo streets decked with artificial Christmas trees (cap 2), "Christmas is a time when people put up decorated trees and stockings for Santa Claus to leave gifts. It's like a child's tale." I stopped for a moment and knew it was not the answer.

"...I see." She seemed to think it was not entirely a satisfying answer, and shrunk back into a slouching position on the ground. But in the next moment, the light in her eyes was lit again and she asked eagerly, "Shall we celebrate it together then? Tonight?" It seems like she was eager to discover the heart of Christmas for herself.

I nodded, and we both got up. I followed her to the front of her house, and she asked me what we should do. I thought for a while, my hands in the pockets of my jacket, and then replied, "We should find a tree, but I don't think it's very nice to chop-"

"I have a tree in the backyard!" she cut in excitedly, then took my hand and ran all the way back in, right to the backyard. I almost tripped in the process. I smiled at her eagerness. I had not seen such excitement over Christmas in a good many years. "Will this do?" she asked, pointing at the tree in the middle of the backyard. It was only twice our height, but it looked lovely for a Christmas tree, though it was not the kind you saw on the streets. The whole time, she did not let go of my hand.

I nodded and smiled, and I don't know if I was wrong, but her cheeks grew rosier in that split second. 'We need to find colourful things to decorate the tree with." I said, then she ran into the house and dragged a box out. Inside it were ornaments of all sorts -- little figurines, clay teddies, woolen mini teddies, traditional toys, colourful balls (with varying sizes) and some cloth material. It was altogether not Christmassy, but I felt like it was going to be fun. I caught sight of some crepe paper in the box and took it out. I rummaged the contents some more and found a pair of scissors. I cut the crepe paper into horizontal strips, the handed some to her. We hung and twirled the crepe papers round the tree, and as I got to the other end, I caught sight of her struggling with the paper as it had got caught in her hairpins. I laughed, and she pouted, a sharp contrast to the woman I had seen sitting on the steps of her home. As I helped to untangle the mess, I stopped for a moment, looking at her. I had a lot of questions about her, but something about Sachiko made me feel like I was going to stay here forever. Here, with her, I felt like I was a different person with different responsibilities, even though I had only been here for about an hour or so.

I quickly finished off the untangling, feeling embarrassed for having stared at a girl like that, and continued with the job. Sachiko pretty quickly got the hang of decorating a Christmas tree, and started hanging teddies and colourful metal, plastic and rubber balls on the tree. After an hour, we were almost done, except, we did not have a star on the top of the tree. I told her so.

"A star?" she asked, "I don't collect star ornaments.." She frowned.

Sub-consciously, I replied, "Ah, but you can sit on top of the tree. Your eyes shine as though they cleverly caught the light of stars in them. They are much more beautiful than the plastic stars we hang on top of fir trees."

Silence. Then I froze suddenly, colder and stiffer than the cold of my surroundings, and realised what I had said. Baka! I scolded myself. I was indeed thoroughly embarrassed! How cheesy! But yet how true as well.

Very quietly and shyly, she replied, "Thank you." The Sachiko sitting on the doorstep returned again.

"Ja, let's not hang a star on the treetop! Let the stars in the sky light it up then." I said happily, to ease the tension.

"Unn!" she agreed happily.

We sat by the door to the backyard, looking at the tree, with its back dotted with beautiful tiny stars which flashed now and then. "Actually..." I began, "Christmas is not all about decorating trees and receiving presents. Christmas is the birth of Jesus Christ, and at its heart, it is about the joy of sharing, of appreciating the people around you, and of gratitude towards who we are today. Christmas is about love." She said nothing, but I saw a smile form on her face. Ah, it was finally a satisfying answer. And it was what the answer should be, too.

It was really late by now, well past midnight, but I had to leave. I said goodbye to her, and thanked her at the doorstep. But before I turned, she asked, "You said people exchanged gifts during Christmas?" I nodded. She tiptoed a little, and her lips gently pressed against my cheek. It was my turn to blush. "Happy Christmas!" she said cheerfully. And so, as an exchange gift, I bent down, and kissed her, but not on her cheek -- but on her lips. I felt a little silly, but some sort of instinct told me she would not object to it. And she didn't.

I took a last glance at her when I was a little distance away from her house, and I saw her looking up still at the sky dotted with beautiful stars (cap 1), her eyes still catching their lights into the depths of those dark pupils. I never saw her again, but perhaps, one day, I will.

I do not know if it was only a dream on the train, but that year, I re-found the meaning of Christmas.