Chapter 7: The Gift of Warmth

It was almost Christmas.

At St. Valerian’s, it was tradition for each class to hold a gift exchange on the last day before winter break. This year, Corvina and Akane’s class was doing Secret Santa. Participation was voluntary, but most students took part.

What seemed like an innocent bonding activity for the children was, in truth, a strategic and carefully masked exchange of goodwill between their parents. A single gift could serve to increase favourability, strengthen social ties, or discreetly leverage favours depending on which family you drew.

Corvina had placed her name in the lottery box with quiet reluctance. It never mattered who her partner was. There were always far too many luxurious gifts involved with barely any sentiment behind them.

It wasn’t much different at home.

Her brothers, back from university for the holidays, always gave her things you’d expect for any little girl: plush toys, stationery, accessories. Always in pink, the colour they thought she liked. Never in blue, the colour she actually liked.

Her mother’s gifts were always something to wear. Dresses, coats, shoes, scarves… Always the latest designer brands, chosen based on how they’d make her look in public rather than her personal preferences. She’d be a walking exhibition of luxury and perfection.

Her father… he was the only one who tried. He didn’t always get it right, like the Rolls-Royce she didn’t have much use for or the properties she couldn’t claim until she was eighteen. But it was never about those things. It was about the stargazing trips they took in those luxury cars. The memories they made on vacation in those scenic properties. The conversations they had in those Michelin star restaurants he booked just for her. Those were the things Corvina cherished.

But… just once, she wished someone would give her a gift meant for a regular nine-year-old. Just for her.

Akane, on the other hand, was a lot more open about her disdain for the tradition. She made it a point to never take part in gift exchanges at school and would throw a tantrum if any teacher ever forced her into it.

Christmas barely existed at home.

Gifts were rare, if they came at all. Her mom tried sometimes, but it would’ve been better if she hadn’t. Once, she’d gotten Akane a knockoff toy from the dollar store that broke in a few days. Another time, it was clothes that didn’t fit. Last year, she just handed over a khaki envelope with a few bills and said to get whatever she liked. Bills that she later cut from Akane’s allowance.

Her dad… She couldn’t remember the last time he gave her anything. Having her basic needs met was treated like a favour, not a responsibility. And wanting anything more meant he’d guilt-trip her for being selfish. ‘I work hard to keep a roof over your head’ he snapped, as though that was enough. As though he didn’t blow most of what he earned drinking, gambling, and paying off personal debt.

So what was the point? Why give gifts to people she didn’t even like? She didn’t want to waste time or money on them.

Unfortunately for her, that made her an easy target to pick on.

“Who’d want a gift from her anyway?”

“It’d be too embarrassing drawing her.”

“I bet she can’t even afford one.”

“That must be why she didn’t take part. What a cheapskate.”

“What do you expect from a charity case?”

Akane had been about to retaliate, venomous words hanging from the tip of her tongue. But Corvina’s hand on her arm stopped her. “It’s not worth it,” she’d said. The students would continue to believe what they wanted to believe, and the teachers would never side with Akane.

So, while the other students laughed and exchanged ostentatious gifts, Akane spent the remainder of the period glowering at her desk. Corvina, who'd already exchanged gifts, sat beside her in silence.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she eventually said.

Akane just shrugged with a scowl. “They can say whatever they want.”

Corvina’s gaze lingered on her face. She scooted a little closer.

“You don’t have to act tough around me,” she said gently.

Akane didn’t answer. Not right away.

“Christmas is stupid. Giving gifts is stupid. Nobody ever means it. Nobody even cares about the things you like. Or don’t like. They just do it because they have to, or because they want to feel like they’re nice.

Corvina watched her from the corner of her eye.

It was strange how similar they were at times despite being so different. Sometimes Akane said things Corvina buried deep down, or didn’t know she felt until they were put into words.

Like now.

It felt… kind of satisfying. Like she’d been seen. Heard.

And it also felt a little painful. Because if Akane felt the same way, it meant it wasn't just Corvina imagining things or being an odd one out.

The fakeness was all real.

“...Yeah. You're right,” she eventually murmured.

Her tummy twisted with uneasiness at that point. It was the kind of feeling she'd get when she realised she made a mistake.

She just really hoped she was wrong.

About the gift.

—

The rest of the day passed without incident. Students could barely sit still through the rest of their classes, throwing glances at the clock and fidgeting in their seats. When the final bell rang, they burst forth from their classes, cheering and laughing. Winter break had begun.

Corvina found Akane waiting by the school gate. Snow fell in delicate flakes, dusting her coat and hair like ash. Her nose was a little red from the cold and her bare hands were shoved deep in her pockets. She stood alone, like always.

The other students had already left, but the two girls were in no hurry to go home. Corvina’s driver knew to wait. Akane had nowhere to be in a hurry.

They walked around the gardens behind the school, silent save for the crunching of the snow under their boots. Rows of neatly trimmed hedges were topped with fresh snow like white icing.

Eventually Corvina slowed, then stopped. Akane halted a few steps ahead before turning around to look at her with a raised eyebrow. She was fidgeting, staring down at her feet with her brows drawn together, opening and closing her mouth as if to try and say something.

“I… got you something,” Corvina eventually said in a soft voice. She opened her bag and took out something small wrapped in Christmas flannel print wrapping paper, tied with a red ribbon. Then, she held it out towards Akane.

“It’s not... for Secret Santa or anything. I’m not expecting you to give me something in return, either. It’s just… just because.”

There was a flicker of something unreadable in Akane’s eyes. She didn’t move, and simply stared at the gift. Her lips parted to say something, then pressed shut again. She tried a second time.

“...Why?”

Corvina looked down at her shoes again, digging her heels further into the snow. Her free hand clutched the strap of her backpack tightly. “Because… you’re always outside, and your hands get red from the cold. And… because I wanted to.”

Akane hesitated like it was a trap. Like kindness was something to be wary of. Something she’d be foolish to accept.

But… This was Corvina.

Her friend.

Several seconds ticked by before Akane moved closer. Slowly. Cautiously. She took the gift from Corvina’s outstretched hand. Then, after a long pause, unwrapped it.

What she found was a pair of soft black gloves that were clearly hand-stitched. On the inner wrist of each glove was a tiny white wolf embroidered with fine thread.

“You… made these?” Akane asked, awestruck.

“I learned how,” Corvina answered, wringing her hands.

Akane didn’t say anything right away. She just stared down at the gloves, jaw clenched, throat tight, and eyes stinging from something that made her heart ache. A part of her wanted to refuse the gift. Not because she didn’t like them, but because she did.

She wanted to accept them. But wanting things always came with a cost.

“I… I don’t want your pity,” she grumbled, bristling. It was easier to pretend she didn’t want the gift than admit how much it meant.

But Corvina wasn’t deterred. Not when she could see the hesitance in Akane’s eyes. Hear the waver in her voice.

She knew her well enough by now.

“It’s not pity,” Corvina replied. Then, she smiled softly. “It’s a gift. For you.”

Akane swallowed, before putting the gloves on. She flexed her fingers to test them.

They were a perfect fit.

“They're warm…” she murmured quietly.

“I hope so,” Corvina said with a giggle, relieved. Then, in a gentle voice she added, “That's how I feel when I'm with you.”

Akane didn't trust her voice not to waver, so she didn't respond. But she didn't need to.

The rare smile on her face said it all.

That winter, Akane wore the gloves every single day. She said it was just because of the cold.

But years later, even when they’ve faded and tucked away in some hidden drawer, she still remembers how warm her hands were the first time Corvina reached for them.