User blog:Seieireppa/God Eater: Reverie for a Holy Night


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 * 25 DECEMBER 2180

Christmas is, well...

...Let me start again. I was never religious—few people are in this day and age, what with any gods that might exist having long since abandoned the lot of us—and it's not like we gave each other presents now or anything. Not like we could. No recognizable structures still stood, and with all the Aragami around, it wasn't like we could take the leisure to celebrate and have any sort of a feast. Not with food as scarce as it was.

At the same time, I always felt a sense of togetherness when Christmas rolled around. When the snow falls, and the world is blanketed in purest white, all my friends and I have are each other. At that moment, there's nothing else but us and the Aragami. All the sound is muffled, and all we have to share are our stories and our warmth.

At times like this, my mind always flashes back to my mother and father. It's been so long that I don't remember what we did for Christmas when it was the three of us together—after all, I was young, very young, when my mother was killed. I can only imagine that it would at least have been more cheerful than this... with only a handful of us still alive, probably on this entire planet.

"Merry Christmas," I spoke to myself, with a half-cocked smile on my face. It was all I could do to keep my spirits up. Of course I had long since learned to live on my own—or at least without my father to watch over me—but every so often I found myself longing for that sense of familial closeness. "And a happy New Year..."

Of course, I was never alone for too long out here. The crunching of footsteps through the snow startled me out of my focus, only for Ron's hand to slap me hard on the back. A little too hard, perhaps. But it was only to be expected. Ron was always loud and boisterous in everything he did. With his every action, he etched his presence into the hearts of those around him, as if to say "I am Ronald Wright.  Gaze upon me and remember my name!" I think that, above all else, he wanted people to remember him, to keep his memory alive in their hearts. At least it wasn't the worst way he could have done it.

But of course, being the man himself, he wasted no time in making himself comfortable, slinging his arm over my shoulder and slumping down next to me. "Merry Christmas, you bastard," he laughed, baring his teeth in a hearty grin that betrayed an indomitable spirit and boundless positivity. "Got any plans for the holidays?"

"Fucker, for that kind of humor, I oughta wrap up a Gboro, slap a bow on it, and shove it down your throat!  Merry Christmas, asshole!" Ron's laughter was infectious, and I quickly found myself caught up in his rhythm. No matter what kind of banter was thrown between us, our rapport was never anything short of the best of friends. Hell, he was a huge part of what kept me sane out here. I just hoped it'd stay that way.

"Here's to another year survived, eh?" Ron grinned at me and helped me to my feet as I brushed myself off.

"To another year," I responded. "And may we have many, many more."

We both knew that the greatest present anyone could give in this day and age was the promise of being there to watch another's back. Strength in numbers was the greatest strength of all, after all.

"Anyway, Will..." Ron began, glancing over his shoulder as he turned to walk back towards camp. "You rememberin' your folks or somethin'?"

I fell silent for a brief moment. "I suppose you could say that.  I just wonder... how things would be different if my mom and dad were still here, you know?"

"I only barely remember your old man," came Ron's follow-up, "but I'm more than sure you're doin' a damn fine job of carryin' on his will... pardon the pun."

I wasted no time in lobbing a snowball directly at his face. The fucker.

"Let's head back and rejoin the others before I take my God Arc and stick it where the sun don't shine, you bastard!" I flashed a wide grin at Ron as the two of us walked off towards where everyone else was gathered, enjoying a rare calm moment on this cold Christmas morning.

Merry Christmas, mother.

And merry Christmas, Father.


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