A light snow was falling, and beneath the cloudy skies the world was silent. Winter nights have a magic about them, the gently falling snowflakes lending a sense of peace to the chaos of the city. This of all nights of the air had a feeling of serenity about it. There was an air of quiet anticipation, as children of all ages huddled in bed, willing themselves awake, waiting for a miracle. As will always be the case, there were those that would look upon this foolishness and glower. They bear the collective label 'Scrooge', and have existed from time immemorial to remind people that Christmas is just one more day in the never-ending march toward death and eventual decomposition. There is nothing special about it. Why bother? But as the story goes, every now and then on an otherwise ordinary Christmas eve, one of these people is shown the true meaning of Christmas, whatever that is. This is one of those stories--well, possibly. Never mind.

It was nearly midnight, but the light of the streetlamps reflecting off the undisturbed snow outside gave the room an almost eerie glow. Noriko, fast asleep, paid this no attention. A peculiar dream (involving pudding, no less) had the whole of her attention, and even the worrisome sound of her window being pushed open and the gust of frozen air that swept inside was not enough to wake her.

This was a good thing, for some.

"I think she's sleeping," whispered a voice from the dark.

"Brilliant observation, Sherlock," hissed the other. "Your uncanny ability to state the obvious never ceases to amaze."

The first voice failed to pick up on the subtle use of sarcasm. "Why, thank you!" it chimed.

Noriko frowned in her sleep, and opened a groggy eye in the direction of the noise. Sillhouetted against the window were two small faeries, no larger than the palm of her hand. They appeared to be bickering. Now wide awake, she lunged for the light switch. Even after the light had chased away the remaining shadows, the unexpected visitors were still there.

"Eee!" shrieked one, shielding her eyes from the light. "She's awake!" Her light blue curls fluttered about her face as she tried in vain to get her small purple eyes to function properly. Giving up, the little faerie produced a wand seemingly out of nowhere and gave it a brief wave. A pair of sunglasses materialized before her and she put them on.

"I noticed that, actually," grumbled the other as she snatched the sunglasses away. "Look, some warning beforehand would be nice." Although the first of the two frowned at the unjustice of her situation, she did nothing to stop the other faerie from slipping the sunglasses on. She was used to it.

Noriko had long before perfected the art of the blank stare, and she put it into full force. Her social skills were unsuitable in even the most mundane of situations, but what does one say to two strangely-coloured faeries that have broken into your apartment? She had questions to ask, of course, but she was not sure where to begin. She swallowed hard. "Is there, ah, something I can do for you?" she began, cursing herself for being so polite.

The two faeries exchanged befuddled glances. After a brief pause, the smaller one flitted down to where Noriko sat. Landing with the utmost delicacy on the bedside table, she looked at Noriko with eyes brimming with sympathy and compassion. This, thought Noriko, was most likely not a good sign. "Y-you don't know?" murmered the faerie, the smaller of the two, as her lip began to quiver.

"I can't say that I do," snapped Noriko, the shock beginning to wear off. She fancied herself up-to-date on most matters of importance, and it then stood to reason that these two interlopers were merely up to no good. Lacking better ideas, she stuck with what she knew. "I will have you know that breaking and entering is a serious offence, but I can't um, guarantee that you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law, as I am reasonably certain standard-issue handcuffs would not fit you, but... the fact of the matter is--"

The little faerie, fighting off tears, looked to her companion for instruction. "I-I've never had to tell anyone before. They usually-" she sniffled, "-know."

The older one fluttered up beside her, petting the small faerie consolingly on the back.

Noriko was annoyed. Small and supposedly non-existent beings though they were, they had no excuse for being in her apartment. The least they could do was tell her that much. But questions still nagged at her. Did she want to know? Of course not, but when was the last time that had stopped her asking? "Know what?" she growled.

The older faerie ran her fingers through her frizzy orange hair to the best of her ability. This was unusual, to say the least, but she surmised that this specimen had been too stubborn to recognize the signs. The dark look on the face of their subject suggested honesty was the best policy. She would be blunt. "Well," she began, hestitantly. "That you're, well, dead. You have our sincerest condolences."

The younger one, sensing the mood had become grim, forced a half-hearted smile and started to giggle. As mood-improving tactics go, it was a bit depressing in and of itself.

Noriko ruminated. She didn't feel dead, but not knowing what being dead felt like rendered that rather moot. Well, there had been that great lunar massacre but it hadn't really counted, when you thought about it. At any rate, it hadn't felt anything like this. What had it felt like? She couldn't remember.

Dead? Just like that? She'd always secretly hoped she'd go out doing something, well, useful. Like saving orphans or something. She hardly considered dying in her sleep like an old woman a worthwhile passing for a warrior of her calibre. But that didn't matter anymore, she guessed. For the first time in a long time Noriko felt relief, but she was quick to chastise herself for being so willing to rid herself of her obligations. Perhaps some good might still come out of this. "Might I ask... if you know, I mean... how did I die?"

One of the faeries scanned what was presumably a list of names that had been tucked into her belt. "Ninkuno... ah, here we are! Noriko Ninkuno (19), tragically flattened by stampeding wildebeest on a foray to--well, you get the idea."

Having determined that she had not been flattened and had had not been engaged in forays anywhere other than the grocery store over the past few days, Noriko considered her options. "I'm fine. I've never seen a wildebeest before in my life. Well, maybe at the zoo but it certainly never trampled me. Might you have me mixed up with someone else?" More relief, but it was soon replaced with irritation. Any fantasies she might have had about the faeries leaving, having been proved wrong, did not survive long.

The little faerie stared at her in awe, and it was apparent from her expression that she had never met anyone that had been flattened by a herd of anything, and had never seen a wildebeest either. In an effort to fill in the vast holes in her overall knowledge of the universe, she made things up as she went along. "Were they foaming at the mouth? Like doggies? What about fangs? I bet they had stripes too. Stripes are pretty, you know, all orange and black with the big paws and all that. Like in 'The Lion King', right?"

"'Lion King'?" mouthed Noriko. Wasn't that some animated American movie? About lions? "There was no wildebeest, and the animal you are describing is a tiger."

The older faerie nodded thoughtfully. "She does have you there, you know. Wildebeest are the ones that have keep swimming or they die, like sharks."

"No," Noriko growled. "Those ARE sharks!"

"Come on," said the faerie, unimpressed. "How many people in this city would have as stup-erm, original a name as Noriko?"

This was beyond tedious. "You don't get out often, do you?" said Noriko.

"And your pyjamas are ugly!" chimed the other, not wishing to be left out.

Noriko shot her an unpleasant look. She was left with the impression these two did not usually encounter much resistance.

The older one sighed. "Look, this is how it works. You are dead, whether you like it or not, and it is our job to collect you, plain and simple. File a complaint with the Complaints Department when you check in, and they'll straighten it out. Now, for the next couple of minutes we're going to be flying and chanting. It's all part of the procedure. Please don't interrupt."

Flying and chanting? Brilliant.

The ritual proceeded with little fanfare.

"Pain!" cried the small one.

"Suffering!" cried the other.

"The faeries of death are here to collect you~!" they chorused, circling toward Noriko with their arms extended. This probably would have continued if it had not been for Noriko's hand whacking Suffering out of the air and into a nearby wall. Pain attempted to retaliate, but she too found herself gaining a newfound appreciation for Noriko's flower-print wallpaper. Noriko was unamused.

"If you think," she scolded, "that I am going to let you two cart me off without proving that I am, to my satisfaction, dead, you are sorely mistaken."

The two faeries recovered quickly and were soon back on their feet, straightening their costumes and adjusting their hair. "You know what I say?" said Suffering, bitterly. "We leave her here for a few decades until she learns some manners. Too stubborn for her own good."

Young Pain nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

The two faeries disappeared.

Noriko was reeling. That was it? She probably could have been more polite, but it would have been wrong to reward that level of incompetence. She was not about to trust them with the proper identification of barnyard animals, much less her soul. Was she even dead? If she was, she was left with the uncomfortable prospect of a lot of free time.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and made her way to the window, sliding it closed. Why they had bothered to open it in the first place when the could have materialized inside was beyond her. That was faerie logic. Only creating one set of sunglasses, for example. It wasn't reasonable. She was better off without them. But she remained depressed all the same. Would anyone notice that she had gone? Aside from the stink, of course.

Her train of thought was derailed by a frustrated tapping at the window. Pain was breathing against the glass and drawing faces with angel wings. Suffering was trying in vain to push the window open again, but Noriko's elbow was in the way. She let it to open, but her sour expression indicated her excitement at seeing them again.

The two faeries looked sheepish. "It appears," said Suffering, squinting at her, "that we have misjudged you. You must be a kind, happy person to have been blessed with an honour such as this. Death would ruin anyone's mood, I guess."

The words "kind" and "happy" set off alarm bells in Noriko's brain. Something was wrong, very wrong. The last thing she wanted was a duty that would require her to be perky from now until the end of time. At least, she thought, the situation could not be any worse. Who was she kidding? Of course it could. "Exactly what 'honour' might that be?" she asked cautiously.

Pain waved her hand in the air as if hoping to be called upon. When she wasn't, she continued anyway. "You have been chosen," she said, as though repeating from a script, "to educate those less loving and Christmasy than yourself in the wonders of Christmas!"

Christmasy? Was that even a word? Best that she could tell, Christmas was an excuse for people that didn't really care one way or the other about religious implications to give gifts, eat big dinners and have romantic evenings with loved ones. It was a commercial enterprise. It wasn't something that needed to be preached by faeries. "Mind ah, elabourating on that?"

Pain was more than happy to oblige, but Suffering interjected. "Dress up as a ghost, visit some heartless old basta--person, and make them love Christmas by showing them their past, present, or future. We're not talking about rocket science, here. We can't afford more than one ghost so you will have to do all three, but you'll have three costumes to wear so hopefully he won't notice." She glanced up at the clock. It was nearly midnight. "You start in five minutes."

Noriko winced. "Let me get this straight. In five minutes time, I have to pretend to be the ghost of Past, Present, AND Future for some person that I have never met before and know nothing about? Tell me you're joking."

The faeries shook their heads.

"You're not joking," murmered Noriko.

The faeries nodded.

Pain giggled, waving her wand around until a sheet with holes in it fell to the ground at Noriko's feet. It could be generously described and a poncho, although the edges were tattered and worn and there were distinctive coffee stains in places. "The big hole is where your head goes," she explained informatively.

Noriko glowered, but this was ignored.

Pain waved her wand two more times, producing two more costumes. The first of these was the most promising, a moth-eaten red robe and a dusty wreath of holly intended for Christmas Present. It would seem that Christmas Future was stuck with a variation on the first ensemble, although this poncho had a hood and draped a bit more.

Noriko rolled her eyes. Just her luck to be stuck with the cheapest goodwill faeries on the planet. She could have done better using her bedsheets, but she neglected to mention it on the off-hand chance they would take her on her word. But she had no choice. She slipped on her first costume and glanced in the mirror. What she saw did not raise her spirits.

Suffering continued with the orientation, steamrollering over any objections with characteristic single-mindedness. "Your vic-I mean, subject is one Rinkano Kentauros. We'll worry about the transportation, so you just act spooky and you'll be fine--so long as he doesn't practice witchcraft, or trap souls in jars to add to his grisly collection or, well the list goes on and I'd be here all night if I tried to list all the dangers involved. Other than all those, and serious dust allergies, you'll be fine."

Noriko became aware of the fact she was glowing and that she was no longer in her room. She was in a room, but she had never seen it before. The faeries had disappeared as well. Oh dear.

She looked around, and although the room was dark she was able to make out the shape of some poor soul asleep on the bed. He looked familiar and, come to think of it, that name sounded familiar as well... Of course! That blasted mailman her grandmother liked so much. But he didn't seem the type to require the whole Christmas Ghost business. She'd seen the sweets he had brought her grandmother, and there had even been a card in there for her somewhere if her word was to be trusted. She hadn't read it, but all the same...

Noriko became aware that she was being stared at. At a loss, she waved.

"Um, hello," he began, fumbling for words as he pulled up the covers in an effort to hide what seemed to be pyjamas with sheep on them. "Miss Noriko, what are you doing, um, here?"

She could tell from his expression that the words 'dressed like that?' probably would have followed if he'd not thought better of it. He had better self-control than she did. "Good question. Some, eh, faeries seem to think that I am your Ghost of Christmas Past for this evening. It says here," she said, consulting a letter of explanation she had been given, "that this is where you gawk for a few minutes and follow me to see examples of Christmases in the past. Or something. I find it's best not to ask."

"Oh," he said, feeling a bit awkward. "But, you're not, um, really dead, are you?"

"Haven't a clue at this point," she sighed. It was good to see a familiar face again, even if it was a bit annoying sometimes. "Now it says here you have to get out of bed or, um, I'll haunt you until the end of time..?"

"Look," said Rinkano, becoming increasingly suspicious. "How do I know this isn't a trick? How do I know you're not just a Noriko-shaped demon uh, thingy?"

"I'm not, alright? Now let's get this over with." Noriko floated out of the room, gesturing for him to follow. Sheepishly, he got out of bed and although uncomfortably aware of his pyjamas followed after her out the door.

The bright light of their mystical transport was soon replaced by the pale glow of dusk. Although outside and surrounded by snow, Noriko nor Rinkano felt particularly cold. This must have been a long time ago, she thought. Standing in a clearing surrounded by trees, this did not feel like the world they had left behind. No, this was something else.

"Where are we?" asked Rinkano, as lost as she was. "There must be some mistake. I have never seen a place like this before in my life. It is oddly beautiful, though..."

"Maybe you don't remember? Stranger things have happened. There's a house a ways off in that direction, don't ask me how I know. We should at least check it out."

"Um, Miss Noriko," started Rinkano.

"Yes?" she said, as the two made their way towards the cottage.

"If you are my guide, why do you not know what is going on?" He blurted it out as though he feared it would be somehow offensive. From his experience, she did not take criticism well.

Noriko shrugged. "I was given this task about ten minutes ago, if that"

Rinkano looked crestfallen. "What happened to the last Ghost of Christmas Past?"

Noriko blinked. "To be honest, I quite forgot to ask. It probably involved jars, though."

"But I like Christmas!" he muttered. "I baked a cake and everything..."

Noriko pointedly ignored him and floated over to one of the cottage's frosted windows. It was impossible to see anything and the warmth of her phantom breath did little to thaw a suitable viewing patch. Instead, she grabbed her unhappy companion by the wrist and pulled him through the wall.

What they saw surprised them.

Noriko had recognized that this would be a Christmas past, but that it would be this far past hadn't occured to her. In truth, she was reasonably confident Christmas did not even exist at this point. Around the table three young children squabbled among themselves. The eldest of these, eyes obscured by a mass of dark green hair, rather resembled a young Rinkano. Her suspicions were confirmed upon he realization the young boy had hooves. Where was this?

The little boy turned and looked at them. He frowned, but did not appear frightened. "We are not alone here," he nudged at his siblings.

A young girl-erm, foal turned to look. "Stop lying," she cried. "You're always lying!"

"I'm NOT LYING!" he growled, trotting to where they stood. "Blue. Just here. And green. Don't you see it? There are ghosts here, I swear it."

Rinkano stared. He knew that he was different, but this? "I swear," he began. "I have never seen these... people before. I only found out a few--I mean, uh, I've never seen a centaur before in my life. The whole resemblance thing is a horrible coincidence." He finished desperately, grateful that he had remembered the first rule of maintaining a secret identity was not telling anyone.

The little boy let a sparkling green light fill his hands. "I will get rid of them. Don't be frightened."

"Perhaps it's time we left," said Noriko, sensing little Rinkano might well have a better grip on the situation than she did.

Rinkano stared a moment more, his face a picture of obvious distress, and followed after her.

He was back in his own room. Thank Gods. A nightmare. He rolled onto his side and settled back to sleep. It was about that point that he realized the clock was chiming twelve. It worried him. He had heard that sound before that evening, and unless he had slept a good twenty-four hours this was not a good sign.

He sat up in bed in time to see Noriko the Spirit materialize before him. She was wearing a tattered red robe and a withered holly wreath. She looked displeased, and managed to prick herself while dusting it off. Panicking, he dropped back into bed and tried to pretend he was asleep.

Lot of good that did.

"Get up, you coward. Let's get this over with."

Noriko frowned at the window. The scene was a bit more promising than the previous one, in that all the major players appeared at least human. The room was decorated in a festive manner, although the family gathered there seemed vaguely familiar. The father was holding a large bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken, fighting off the young girl and woman she might have otherwise assumed was his wife with one hand. He hit the woman with a gingerbread man and she hexed him. Not the sort of thing that might get one in the festive spirit, but it was better than being attacked by miniature centaurs.

Where had she seen those three before?

Rinkano tried to play along. "Who are these people?"

"No idea," said Noriko. But that wasn't right, was it? Of course she knew those people. "Oh, them," she seethed. "I should have known they'd be up to something."

Rinkano looked puzzled. "What did they do?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing," she laughed dramatically, remembering she had company. "Just uh, watch them and like Christmas. It's all a bit pointless, when you think about it."

"But Miss Noriko, I like Christmas. Very much. Laughing children, snow, candy canes... I mean, it's a lot more work for me but I like seeing people happy. What I mean is, can I go home now?" He knew better than to hope, but it was worth a try.

Noriko glowered at him.

The celestial forces were growing bored, and apparently decided to skip her costume change. This was a shame, as she rather liked the hood the Ghost of Christmas Future outfit provided, but at least Noriko's new surroundings calmed her some. This was a palace, but not one she'd seen before. She could detect a definite Grecco-Roman influence in the architecture. Strangely familiar figures wandered by. Was that Queen Serenity? This was supposed to be the future, not the past...

"NO!" screamed a voice in Noriko's ear. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"Yeah!" added another, obviously worried. "You'll ruin everything!"

"Ruin what?" asked Noriko, who knew full well who those voices were. "Whatever great cosmic joke you lunatics in the Fate Department have cooked up for is?" Oh how she hated faeries.

Pain looked hurt. "Who told?"

Suffering shot Rinkano, staggering about in awe as he was known to do in these situations, a dirty look. "Who's that?"

Noriko rolled her eyes. "Kentauros. The mailman. You know, you left me in his bedroom..?"

The bickering continued for some time. The words 'Shut up' were used repeatedly by all sides. To everyone's relief, a brush with an incredibly old Sailorpluto sent the two faeries and their hapless subjects scampering back to the present.

The clock chimed twelve. Again. Thankfully, Rinkano had other things to worry about. Miss Noriko was looking a lot more alive than she had been, and the faeries were floating embarassed in the middle of the room, withering under her gaze. He was just happy that dark expression was not directed at him.

Suffering floated forward, clearing her throat. "A mix-up," she muttered, "has occured."

"Really," said Noriko dryly. "Do tell."

"It's all Pain's fault!" the faerie continued in exasperation. "The Scrooge listings got mixed in with the Death listings and, well, that one--" she said, pointing to Rinkano, "--really ought to have been the one giving YOU the tour but, well, it's all turned out all right, hasn't it..?" There was a hopeful twinge in her voice, but it didn't last.

"Right. We'll be seeing you next Christmas, then. Um, we'd best be off. Visions of sugar plums and all that. Have some complimentary t-shirts." Pain and Suffering gave embarassed bows and, the aformentioned t-shirts (size too-small-to-fit-any-known-adult-human) having appeared on the floor, disappeared into the dark. Getting Noriko home was not, apparently, on their new list of priorities.

Rinkano coughed, doing his best to hide his pyjamas. "So," he ventured, with all the blind optimism of someone who had attempted a conversation with Noriko before but was sure it would all work out this time, "does this sort of thing happen to you often?"

"Humbug," she grumbled.