The morning after the snowstorm arrived without ceremony. The world was white and muffled, as if wrapped in cotton. Inside a small apartment on the outskirts of Hirayama, Sotsuki Tatsuo was sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the wall.
He'd been doing that for ten minutes.
He wasn't thinking about Santa. He wasn't thinking about anything. That's just what he did most mornings. Staring into space was his version of meditation—except instead of enlightenment, he just achieved higher levels of "whatever."
Then there was a knock at the door. Three heavy knocks. Confident. Rhythmic. Almost cheerful. Sotsuki didn't move. "No one I like knocks that enthusiastically."
The knocking came again. Then a voice. "HO HO—oh wait, wrong timing—HO! HO! HO!" Sotsuki slowly turned his head toward the door. "…You've got to be kidding me."
Santa Moves In
He opened the door. And there he was — Santa Claus himself, standing in the hallway like a red avalanche, holding a massive sack over one shoulder and grinning like a person who just discovered doorbells.
"Good morning, Sotsuki!" Santa beamed. "I've come to start our little challenge!" "What challenge?" Sotsuki asked flatly. "The one where I try not to make you quit the challenge you dared me to do!"
Santa laughed, stepping inside without being invited. "The challenge of changing your life, of course! I told you last night, remember?"
"I thought that was a hallucination caused by cheap vending machine Coke." "Ha! Your disbelief fuels me!" Santa said, slamming his sack onto the floor. It landed with a thud that shook the apartment.
From inside came the muffled sound of jingling bells… and maybe a goat. Sotsuki sighed. "You can't stay here." "Too late!" Santa said cheerfully, removing his boots. "I've already set my mental GPS to 'Sotsuki's apartment'!"
"That's not how addresses work."
Santa looked around, curious. The apartment was minimalistic — a bed, a desk, a bookshelf filled with unread books, and a kitchen counter with a kettle that had seen better centuries. "Cozy," Santa said, nodding approvingly. "Like an elf dormitory."
"Stop talking."
The Tea Incident
A few minutes later, Santa was standing in the kitchen, inspecting the kettle like an archaeologist discovering ancient ruins. "So," Santa said, "you said last night you don't find joy in anything. But joy starts small, my friend! Let's start with something simple — making tea!"
Sotsuki blinked slowly. "That's your grand miracle? Boiling water?"
"You underestimate the power of good tea," Santa said, puffing out his stomach. "In every cup of warmth, there lies a story." "There also lies disappointment," Sotsuki said. "Every time I try, it tastes like boiled socks."
Santa gasped. "Socks are for wearing on your feet, not drinking! Clearly, you need guidance." "I don't need—" "Too late! Operation: Teacup Redemption begins now ma... friend!"
Step One: The Leaf Sermon
Santa pulled from his sack what looked like a glowing glass jar filled with golden leaves. They shimmered faintly, each leaf pulsing like it contained starlight.
"What… is that?" Sotsuki asked, squinting.
"Celestial Ceylon," Santa said proudly. "Tea grown in the hidden gardens of the North Pole! Each leaf is blessed by three reindeer and one mildly irritated angel."
"That sounds unhygienic." Santa ignored him, pouring a few leaves into a porcelain pot. The aroma instantly filled the air — rich, floral, and slightly nostalgic. It smelled like childhood memories that never happened.
Sotsuki stared. "Okay, that's… not bad." "See?" Santa grinned. "Even neets can appreciate craftsmanship." "Don't get snorty. I said 'not bad,' not 'Christmas miracle.'"
Santa winked. "Miracles start small, my friend. Even a smile counts." Sotsuki froze. He wasn't smiling. Was he? He quickly looked away. "You're hallucinating again."
Step Two: The Catastrophe
Santa boiled the water. Or rather — tried to. The kettle screeched, the pot shook, and somehow the lights flickered. Steam filled the kitchen, forming temporary shapes — snowflakes, candy canes, a reindeer doing a handstand.
Sotsuki coughed. "Are you boiling water or summoning spirits?" "Patience!" Santa said, fanning the steam dramatically. "The perfect brew requires theatrics!"
"Or just temperature control."
Santa poured the steaming water into the pot. For a moment, it looked beautiful — golden liquid swirling, fragrant steam rising. Then, without warning, the pot exploded.
Tea flew everywhere — on the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and Santa's face. The explosion wasn't fiery; it was festive — shimmering sparkles of glitter falling like snow.
Sotsuki blinked, dripping tea from his hair. "This… is why I drink Coke." Santa looked sheepish. "Ah. I might've used too many miracle leaves." "No kidding." "On the bright side, your kitchen now smells like eternal happiness!" Sotsuki sniffed. "And burnt sugar."
Step Three: The Apology Tea
They cleaned up — well, Sotsuki did most of the cleaning while Santa "supervised." Eventually, Santa sat down at the table, looking surprisingly remorseful.
"I may have overdone it," he admitted. "I wanted to impress you."
Sotsuki poured himself a new cup — this time made with normal tea bags. The color was dull, the smell average, but it was at least drinkable. He took a slow sip. Then sighed. "See? Ordinary. Stable. No glitter involved."
Santa smiled softly. "You like it that way, don't you? Simple." Sotsuki nodded. "Life's easier when it's boring." Santa chuckled. "But it's also emptier." Sotsuki shrugged. "I can live with empty." Santa studied him for a moment. His usual bombastic aura faded, replaced by something quieter. "Do you know what loneliness tastes like?" "Probably like this tea." "Exactly," Santa said, smiling sadly. "Warm, but flavorless. It keeps you alive but doesn't make you feel alive." Sotsuki looked down at his cup. "You talk like a therapist with a candy cane degree."
"Centuries of observation," Santa said proudly. "You learn things when you've seen every kind of human sadness." Sotsuki gave a small, reluctant smirk. "Then you must love my life story." "Actually," Santa said, sipping his own cup, "I think it's just beginning."
The Secret of the List
Later that evening, Santa spread a massive scroll across Sotsuki's floor. It unrolled past the door, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. Sotsuki stared. "Please tell me that's not your grocery list." "Close," Santa said. "This… is The List."
Sotsuki blinked. "As in…?" "The Nice and Naughty List," Santa said solemnly. "It's ancient magic — a record of every soul's heart, their kindness, their regrets, their hidden desires."
Sotsuki snorted. "So it's basically the universe's social credit system." Santa ignored the jab. "Every year, I review it. But lately, something's changed. More and more names are… fading." Sotsuki frowned. "Fading?"
"Their hearts lose the spark that connects them to joy. It's like… the world's forgetting how to hope." He paused, his golden eyes glowing faintly. "Yours was one of the faintest."
Sotsuki stared at him, expression unreadable. "…So that's why you showed up?" Santa nodded. "To remind you — and maybe everyone — that there's still something worth believing in."
"That's cliché." "But true," Santa said softly. They sat in silence for a while. The snow outside began to fall again, slow and heavy. Finally, Sotsuki whispered, "What if I don't want to believe in anything?"
Santa smiled. "Then I'll believe enough for both of us." Sotsuki rolled his eyes. "You're infuriating." "Ho ho ho," Santa said, grinning again. "That's part of my charm!"
The Midnight Disturbance
Just as things began to settle, the lights flickered again. The window rattled. A deep, metallic clang echoed outside. Sotsuki looked up. "Tell me that's not another reindeer."
Santa's expression hardened. "No. Something worse."
They stepped outside. The snow was disturbed — tracks leading from the forest to the alleyway. At the end of the trail stood a dark, humanoid figure cloaked in frost and shadow. Its eyes burned like embers.
Santa's tone grew grim. "The Grinch's son." Sotsuki blinked. "You're kidding?" The creature growled. Its voice was distorted, like gravel grinding against metal. "Nicholas… You still cling to your foolish holiday."
Santa sighed. "Not now, Grouch. I'm teaching someone how to make tea." The demon tilted its head. "A pupil? How… adorable." Sotsuki stepped back. "Wait, wait, you're saying that thing is real too? And why is the Grinch's son a demon!"
Santa cracked his knuckles. "Everything is real if you stop pretending it isn't."
Grouch lunged — claws slashing, snow exploding around them. Santa raised his hand, summoning a glowing sigil shaped like a snowflake. The two clashed — light and darkness, holiday cheer versus unfiltered malice.
Sotsuki just stood there, holding his cup of tea. After a few minutes of chaotic, glitter-filled combat, Santa finally punched Grouch so hard he exploded into snowflakes and despair.
The silence that followed was awkwardly calm. Sotsuki sipped his tea. "…You done?" Santa nodded. "Yes. Sorry about the mess." Sotsuki looked around at the crater-sized snow hole in his yard. "You're paying for that."
"With what, cookies?" "With Christmas spirit!" "Useless currency."
The Lesson of the Day
Back inside, Santa flopped onto the couch, exhausted but grinning. "Well! That was refreshing. Evil vanquished, tea made, hearts slightly warmed — I'd call that progress."
Sotsuki sat beside him, arms crossed. "Progress would be if you left." Santa chuckled. "Oh, Sotsuki. You remind me of a penguin I once met — cold on the outside, but soft in the middle."
"That's a terrible metaphor." "Maybe," Santa said. "But it's true." They sat in silence for a while, watching the snowfall through the window. The world outside glowed faintly with Christmas lights — small, distant, but somehow comforting.
Then, quietly, Sotsuki said, "The tea wasn't bad. Even the glittery one." Santa smiled softly. "You're learning." "Don't get used to it." "Too late. I already have hope." Sotsuki sighed, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips — small, fragile, but real.
End Scene
That night, as Santa snored loudly on the couch (sounding suspiciously like thunder), Sotsuki sat by the window, watching the snow. He whispered to himself, "He's insane… but maybe a little interesting."
Outside, far in the distance, a faint jingling of bells echoed across the cold horizon — soft, steady, endless. The Saint had entered his life. And Sotsuki knew — whether he liked it or not — things were about to get even stranger.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Next Episode Preview:
[Sotsuki's peaceful routine is shattered again when Santa insists on enrolling him in "Reindeer Aerobics" to build holiday spirit. Meanwhile, mysterious agents from the Noel Hunters return with a new weapon — The Blaster Extractor 3000! Will Santa survive the suburban chaos? Find out in Episode 3: "Operation: Spirit Training!"]