eighteen.

[dawn_is_coming]

[Sora has successfully dragged Riku back from his studying---and only with one punch, too. They'd trudged back to the cabin in the snow, linking arms in order not to lose each other in the worsening blizzard. By the time they get back to the cabin, Sora's hair is thick with snow and ice, eyelashes crusted with snowflakes.

The Christmas tree shines from the corner of the front room, red-wrapped gifts sprawled around the base]

Presents?

Hey, guys! Presents!

[not bitterly; he's kind of amused:]

But are they Christmas presents, or end of the world presents?