The smell of smoke assaulted her nostrils upon returning home from work that evening.

Waving the foul scent away, she saw Aldous holding the oven door open, waving a potholder side to side to air it out.

"Al, what happened?" she asked, disoriented.

"Oh, you're back so soon?" he asked, whipping his head in her direction.

"Uh, yeah, it's past 8 already," she explained, pointing at the clock. He followed her finger and realized how easily he had lost track of time.

"Oh geez, you're right. Well, anyway, stand back. I don't want to end up whacking you in the face here."

He turned his attention back to the oven, waving the last of the smoke away.

"Well, that was a close one. For a moment there, I thought I might have lit the thing on fire," he commented, placing his hands on his hips.

"You did what now?" she asked, glancing at him twice over.

"Oh, nothing. I just burned some sugar cookies, that's all."

Sliding on a pair of oven mitts, he reached into the oven and pulled out the tray, revealing its contents-charred black as coal, with burned residue covering the pan surrounding each cookie.

She leaned forward to take a good look at the disaster before looking up at him.

"How did that happen? It's not like you to burn things like this," she commented, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I got a little distracted with other things, you know?" he explained, pressing his foot on the trash bin switch and disposing of the ruined desserts.

"Do you need any help making a new batch?" she offered, holding her hands together in front of her chest.

"Well, I admire the offer, but I used up the last of the sugar in this round, and the shops won't be open till the day after tomorrow," he answered, setting the tray in the sink to wash later.

"I guess it's no big deal. They're just cookies after all. I'm sure we can go one year without them."

"What do you mean 'one year without them?'" she asked, leaning forward slightly. "What's the occasion for?"

"For Winters Fest, of course. It's tomorrow," he elaborated, closing the oven door.

"It is?"

"Yeah, didn't I put that on the calendar?" he asked, pointing.

"I don't think so." She glanced over at the calendar hanging next to the closet door in the hall.

"Oh, well, it is. And I was planning to make some sugar cookies for the occasion," he repeated, taking a seat at the dining room table. "But I seem to have botched it this time. Oh well, not the end of the world."

"By the way, have you ever celebrated Winters Fest before?" he asked, shifting in his seat.

Hearing the question, she found herself frozen in place, taking a seat in the second finished chair while reliving a flashback of the last Winters Fest she celebrated.

"I did once..." she said after a moment, avoiding eye contact. "But it wasn't a pleasant memory..."

"Oh... Care to talk about it?" he asked, sounding compassionate.

Reflecting on her history, she recalled the events regarding the last person to take her in, remembering the abuse she endured back then.

"Let's just say there was a lot of drinking... and a lot of violence," she uttered, her voice just above a whisper, with a few squeaks tossed into the mix.

"Oh, I see. You got stuck with the remembrance subcategory, huh?" he inquired, noticing the distraught look on her face.

Distracted by the question, Krystal looked up with a slightly confused expression.

"What do you mean subcategory?" she asked, turning towards him with wide, glassy eyes.

"Well, you see, most holidays originate from Tanasia, and there are a LOT of them," he began. "But for those of us living in the federation, those holidays are bunched up into one-day seasonal fests, one for each season: winter, spring, summer, and fall. The idea is to create a more effective and less chaotic work year."

His description provided a perfect distraction from her painful memory as she found herself drawn into the lesson.

"Of course, no one could agree on exactly which holidays would become the norm for these fests, so people just celebrated however they felt fit based on individual heritage. The various traditions celebrated at this time are called subcategories."

Krystal nodded to herself and placed a finger on her chin, absorbing every word like a sponge.

"So then, what exactly are the different subcategories?" she asked, leaning forward in her seat a little more.

"Well, using your experience as an example, some will resort to drinking in remembrance of some historical events or person. So that would fall under the remembrance category. Other customs can include staying up all night until sunrise in recognition of a new year dawning, like the year's dawn category. And some take it as a moment of religious reflection and a time to give praise, as we call it, the Hunari category. The list is pretty extensive, though, and the exact number really all depends on individual recognition."

"Wow, so it's like everyone has their own way of doing it," she said to clarify.

"Yeah, I guess you can say that."

"Well then, how do you celebrate Winters Fest?" she asked, looking his way.

This particular question threw him off a little, feeling like he had been put on the spot all of a sudden.

"Well... my family was always into the Crislyn-Harran grouping." He explained, reflecting on childhood memories as he spoke.

"We celebrate by getting together for the day, exchanging gifts, playing games... and normally, making and enjoying baked treats," he said while glancing back at the trash can for a minute.

"Wow, that sure sounds like fun," she added, feeling both happy and jealous that he had such fond memories of the season.

"Ya know, now that I think about it, there is one thing you can help with." He said with a snap of his fingers.

"What's that?"

"I hadn't finished wrapping all the presents yet. Care to lend a hand?" he asked, rising from his seat to extend an inviting hand.

With a big grin, she grabbed his hand and rose from her seat.

"I'd be happy to," she replied with yet another squeak of her voice.

"Great, let's nail this sucker out!" he declared, leading her to his room.

Looking around the room, she saw several items already boxed up, needing only wrapping paper.

"So, are you going to be taking these to your family tomorrow then?" she asked while kneeling down to begin wrapping a box on the floor.

"Well, that's the plan anyway," he answered, hovering over his head to grab a second box. "I was planning on heading out around noon."

"C-can I come with you?" she asked, a pleading look on her face, feeling a little embarrassed to ask.

He looked down at her, surprised that she felt the need to even ask.

"Of course I'm taking you with me," he replied with a warm grin, turning to face her again. "I can't leave you here by yourself today. What kind of person would I be?"

"You mean it?" she asked, maintaining eye contact. Seeing him reply with a simple nod, she felt a wave of joy and excitement wash over her.

"Oh, thank you, Al!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug. "I can't wait to meet your family. I hope they're just as nice as you are."

"And I'm sure they would love to meet you too," he replied with a gentle rub of her back as they held one another.

You would think that after this time, he would have gotten used to her affectionate embraces. She seemed to find a reason to give him one no more than once a day so far. Yet she managed to catch him by surprise (almost) every time.

Holding on for a couple of minutes, Krystal savored the feeling before finally letting go, looking up at him with a wide, childlike smile.

"Well, now that we got that settled, let's finish this job together, shall we?" She knelt back down on the floor to continue her work.

The two spent the rest of the night wrapping presents for his family before calling it a day.

After another interaction with Krystal, Aldous waited in his bed for Beta to come out, expecting the usual lecture.

But to his surprise, he never came. Beta never said nor attempted to say anything on the matter. It was as if he had given up or something.

"Hm. It's about time he clammed up. Looks like my persistence finally got to him," he thought while rolling over in his bed.

Aldous fell into a deep sleep that night, a sense of peace washing over him, knowing that Beta wouldn't be an obstacle for his plan to give Krystal a happy holiday.

The next day, right as the minute hand was about to strike twelve, Aldous was in the living room with Krystal, going through a brief checklist before they headed out.

"Alright, let's see here. Family presents?"

"Check," Krystal said, patting the stack of colorfully wrapped gifts on the table.

"You got your winter gear on?"

"On and ready," she replied with a salute.

"And let's not forget the most important thing of all: that adorable smile of yours?" he said with a teasing smirk. She turned away with a rosy grin.

"Stop it, you're making me blush already," she said with a light chuckle.

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing ya. Let's get a move on!" he exclaimed, taking on a cartoonish voice.

Taking as many presents as they could carry, Aldous led the way to the exit door.

However, upon gripping the knob, he quickly realized that the door was stuck in place. He pushed harder, to little avail.

"What's wrong?" Krystal asked, peeking her head past the stack of presents blocking most of her vision.

"I think the door is jammed again," he replied, trying to force it open. "Hold on just a sec."

To get a better grip on the handle, he set his gifts down near the corner, grunting while pushing the door open, one shove at a time, cracking it further open with each heave.

To his surprise, the door itself wasn't jammed, but rather a heavy blanket of snow had blocked the path.

"Oh shoot!" he exclaimed, reality hitting him hard in the chest. "We're snowed in."

She looked at him with a surprised expression, still holding her stack of gifts before setting them down.

"Snowed in? You mean we can't get out?"

Before answering her question, he squeezed his head through the gap in the door to see the parking lot. To his shock, the plow crew hadn't come by at all last night, trapping every vehicle in the parking lot.

He closed the door and looked down at the corner of the room in thought. This was the first year he had to miss out on a family gathering. He didn't know what to make of this or how to feel.

On top of that, Krystal seemed so excited to experience a real Winters Fest. He couldn't deny the reality of the situation, but it also pinched his heart to have to shatter her anticipation like this.

"Um... yeah, we're snowed in good alright... I don't think we'll be going anywhere," he mumbled while avoiding eye contact.

He didn't even have to look at her to know she was disappointed.

"Can't we call someone to plow the lot?" she asked, naive enough to find a way.

"No one will come. All businesses are shut down for the day," he said.

"What about shoveling? Can we dig it out ourselves?"

"Not a chance. Even if we did clear a path out of here, the roads would be covered too. We would have to shovel for miles just to get there, and that would take days to do." He explained, taking on a collected attitude so as not to bring her down. "I admire your optimism, but there's just no way we can get there this time... I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Aldous," she replied, sounding equally defeated. "It isn't your fault..."

She took a seat on the stairway behind them and allowed her emotions to take root, feeling cheated out of a second attempt at a happy Winters Fest.

While sharing each other's disappointment, a proverb popped into Aldous's mind: "You can't undo what's done, but you can still act in the here and now."

At that moment, he realized he could still make this a special day, maybe not for himself, but perhaps for her at the very least.

"Ya know what? Forget about it," he blurted out. "We don't need to leave the house to have a happy holiday. We can have our own celebration right here, just the two of us."

"We can?" she asked, her eyes widening with hope.

"You bet we can. This day is all about spending time with friends. And it looks to me like you've got one right here," he explained, pointing at himself.

His gentle, yet inspiring words brought forth a wave of relief, catching her in its powerful snare-not just for the sake of the holiday, but on a deeper, personal level. Especially the part about having a friend to celebrate with.

"Now come on, let's get these things back inside. We can mail them off tomorrow or something when the roads are clear. We have a holiday to make... good again?" he said, breaking eye contact and stumbling over his word choices.

Giggling over his poor grammar, she nodded and picked up her stack, following him back to the room.

Swinging the door open, Aldous stepped inside first, setting his stack on the table before placing a hand on his chin in thought.

"Alright, let's see. What to do first?" he asked himself.

"How about decorating?" Krystal proposed, flicking her wrist.

"Decorating, eh? Ya know, that's not a bad place to start," he said, stroking his chin. "If only I had decorations. I don't normally keep Winters Fest decorations on hand because I never really celebrated on my own before."

"Well, what if we made our own?" she asked, looking around the room for any materials.

"Oh hey, I know what will work," he said suddenly, pointing his finger up. "When I was little, we would make paper chains to hang on the walls. I might have some construction paper laying around somewhere. And if not, I can always just print out some colored sheets to substitute."

"Really? You think that will work?" she inquired, standing still in the middle of the room now.

"Totally. I'll be back in a minute; you grab the stapler and some scissors from the junk drawer," he requested, making for the hallway in a light jog.

She walked up to the junk drawer next to the oven and made a quick scan of the interior, spotting the stapler and two pairs of scissors on opposite ends of the compartment.

Just as she set the items down on the table, Aldous came back with a small stack of paper.

"We're in luck; we have just enough construction paper to get us through," he said, laying out over a dozen sheets of various colors on the table. "I take it you've never made a Crislyn-Harran chain before?"

"No, this would be a first," she replied with a light squeak.

"It's quite easy, really. You just slice the paper into strips, and then staple them together into loops, linking one end to the other."

Krystal began cutting her sheet and managed to get two strips done in the time it took Aldous to shred an entire sheet, now working on a second.

She looked over and watched in awe as he zipped through the sheet with a single snip, sliding the blades across the paper with grace.

"How do you do that?" she asked, with a look of fascination and curiosity.

"Do what?"

"That thing with the scissors. How do you do that?" she repeated, pointing at his scissors.

"Magic," he replied with a goofy smirk.

"Oh ha ha, very funny," she replied to his joke with an eye roll.

"No, but seriously, it's mainly practice," he answered, looking back at the craft. "The blades are sharp enough to cut the paper on their own. It's just a matter of getting the right angle, pressure, and...," he snipped another strip in half a second, "See? It's that easy."

She watched with wide eyes as he demonstrated his speed and skill, like a kid being shown a magic trick for the first time.

"Here, you try. Just hold the paper and scissors like so, make the blades bite the sheet, and just, zip!" he said, guiding her through a slower demonstration.

She copied his lead to the letter, examining her form before making the slice herself, clean and proper on her first try.

"See? You're a natural," he complimented with a single clap of his hands.

After an hour or so, the entire stash was transformed into two long paper chains. Using some masking tape, the two took one chain each, started at the corners of the room, and strung their creations along the edges of the ceiling before meeting in the middle.

Taking a step back, they admired their labor. From Krystal's perspective, the colors brought the place to life-an upgrade from the dingy yellow color of the walls.

While Aldous saw it more as a blast from the past rather than art to be admired, seeing how happy she looked made it all worthwhile.

"I think this looks nice. Don't you?" she asked, turning to face Aldous.

"Well... it works for the holiday anyway," he replied, returning the gaze.

"So... what do we do now?" she asked, admiring their work.

"Good question," he answered with a stroke of his chin before snapping his fingers. "You know what's missing?"

"No, what?"

"Music. Nothing gets people into the holiday spirit better than adequate music. Let me see if I still have that playlist..."

"What's a playlist?" she asked, watching him with curiosity.

"It's a collection of songs strung together that play automatically."

Taking the TV remote in hand, he turned the screen on and began sifting through the files.

Krystal took a seat on the couch and watched as Aldous navigated the big screen TV, waiting with her hands on her lap and her eyes glued to the screen.

"Aha! Here we go," he uttered to himself when he found the music file. "Ya know, I forgot I still had this playlist, truth be told. We used to listen to it all the time when I was little."

As the first song began to play, they both stood still, as if falling into a trance. Aldous felt nostalgia wash over him. As for Krystal, she found herself captivated by the song-the meaning of the lyrics and the gentle, peppy melody transforming her mood after the rhythm of the song.

"I like this song," she uttered under her breath. "Who wrote this?"

"Uh, that would be the Iron Maven," Aldous answered, pointing at the artist logo on the bottom of the screen. "That guy is a personal favorite of mine, actually. His music covers a wide variety of genres and styles."

"I kinda figured by the posters you had in your room," she added. "I can see why you like him. That voice... I could listen to it all day," she said with a gentle sway.

As they played all throughout the day, Aldous did his best to provide games and other activities to give as authentic a Crislyn-Harran experience as possible.

His attempt at charades was a bit of a mess as he struggled to represent things she already knew (which was more than he expected yet restricting nonetheless), but she enjoyed the game regardless, so he counted that as a win.

He introduced a couple of board games and scraped together enough supplies to make some small treats. Not in as large a quantity as he hoped, and definitely not as tasty, but Krystal seemed to enjoy making them with him more than she did consuming them anyway.

When the fun and games had run their course, the two settled down for a themed movie-an original film regarding the origins of Crislyn-Harran.

Aldous had seen this film almost every year, but Krystal was invested in the story, allowing herself to be taken in by the emotional twists and turns of the film.

She cheered a little in moments of triumph, complained when the bad guys gained an advantage, and even cried a little when tragedy struck the protagonists.

By the time the film ended, the sun had set, allowing the light of the house to illuminate the snowflakes that were beginning to fall once again.

Krystal admired the frost with wide eyes, feeling as majestic and dazzled as she had during the first snowfall.

Aldous sat by her side, watching with her, one arm wrapped around her shoulder. Although slightly annoyed at the added snow to the thick blanket outside, he couldn't argue that it was a lovely sight, and perfect timing nonetheless.

Aldous looked down to see the look on Krystal's face as the day came to a close. With a smile of contentment on her face, he could tell he had succeeded in giving her a Winters Fest to remember.

But he wasn't done yet; there was still one more thing to do before the day was over.

"I'll be right back," he said, prying himself from the sofa with a light grunt.

She broke her gaze away from the window and looked at him with pleading eyes, as if asking him to stay with her.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her pitch higher than before.

"Just to the other room. I got something for you," he said with a wink before quickly moving behind the corner. Although a little confused, she stayed put, waiting for his return.

When he came back a minute later, he presented her with a gift of her own-a shoebox-sized package wrapped in green paper with a red bow decorating the lid.

"Happy Crislyn-Harran, Krystal." He spoke softly, extending his arms out.

Krystal looked at the box and pressed her hands against her chest, feeling her emotions surge all of a sudden. No one had given her a gift like this-any gift for that matter (barring Aldous providing a new wardrobe, but that was different).

Stunned by the gesture, she held herself together, doing a lousy job of hiding her emotions before she reached out to take the box with both hands.

"Thank you," she uttered, her voice just above a whisper.

Removing the lid, she peeked inside to see a sizable book with a hard wood cover. Although appreciative, she was a bit confused by the lack of a cover title and the blank pages inside.

"Hey, Al, what kind of book is this exactly?" she asked, trying not to sound picky.

"It's a log journal," he answered, taking his seat back. "I knew you liked to read, so I thought you might like writing too. Now you can jot down whatever idea pops into that smart little head of yours." He said with a playful poke of her forehead.

Her cheeks turned pink from the compliment and the touch, locking her gaze to herself and the book, feeling even more appreciative that he would put such thought into his gift.

"I love it... Thank you," she said in a clear tone this time. Her eyes reflected the light of the room, making them appear marble-like when she looked up at him.

Closing in for yet another embrace, she nuzzled her head into his chest, feeling the full effect of the holiday spirit blending with her newfound solace in his sanctuary.

As he held her in his arms, he felt a sudden sense of duty and protectiveness towards her, seeing her like a stray cat who had found its home under his watch. Granted, he had felt this way before when they first met, but this time it seemed even more powerful-a feeling he could get used to.

"I don't know what I would do without you..." she whispered, closing her eyes as she tightened her grip on him. "You're a good friend, Al..."

At that moment, a cold snap ran down Aldous's spine. It felt good knowing he made her day and that she saw him as a friend, but he remembered the bet he made with Beta.

"By Winters Fest," he recalled, "she will grow a deep passion for you."

He could feel Beta watching them at that moment, feeling victorious that he had won the bet.

Aldous didn't know what was scarier: the fact that Beta used his own weakness to his advantage, or that he now had greater leverage over Aldous, dangling a promised favor over his head to cash in at any given time.