A boring Christmas

The living room lights were off except for the glow of the small, artificial tree in the corner. One of the bulbs was flickering, but neither of them got up to fix it.

Junpei sat on the couch, a blanket over his shoulders and a bag of shrimp chips in his lap. The TV was on, but neither of them were really watching.

His older sister, Miki, was on the floor, flipping through her phone. Her hair was still damp from the shower and she wore one of their dad's oversized sweaters like she did every winter.

"This is depressing," she said, not looking up. "Two losers eating chips on Christmas."

"You're the one who stayed home."

"Where was I supposed to go? My friends are all doing couple stuff or family stuff. Or both."

Junpei crunched a chip. "You could've lied and said you were going to a party."

"I did. To Mom. She was very impressed."

He grinned.

A pause.

"You could've gone out too, you know," she added. "Isn't there someone you like?"

Junpei leaned his head back against the couch. "No. Or maybe. I don't know. I didn't feel like doing anything."

Miki finally looked up from her phone. "You're sixteen. That's exactly the age when you should be doing dumb things and pretending they're meaningful."

"You say that, but you're twenty-one and doing the same thing."

She gave him a deadpan look. "I'm doing it ironically."

Junpei held out the bag of shrimp chips. She took a few.

Outside, they could hear the faint crack of fireworks somewhere in the distance. Probably from the park down the hill.

"I miss when Christmas felt exciting," Miki said after a while. "Like, when you're a kid, it feels like a real event. Now it's just a date with decorations."

Junpei nodded. "I guess we grew out of it."

She gave him a sideways look. "Or maybe we just got boring."

He smiled a little. "Probably that."

They sat in the flickering light of the fake tree. The TV droned on. A variety show was playing now — loud voices, laughter, some over-the-top reaction shots. Neither of them laughed. It was just something to fill the air.

"You know," Miki said, "this isn't a bad way to spend it. Even if it's a little boring."

Junpei nudged her with his foot. "Speak for yourself. I'm having a shrimp chip Christmas. Very high-tier."

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.