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It wasn’t the fact that Makoto had gotten less attention after the twins were born; he had quickly understood that two babies were a lot of work, and he dove into the role of helpful big brother with glee, much to the delight and relief of his parents. It wasn’t even that he had to sacrifice his big room and settle for what used to be the guest room so that the twins, now three years old and more demanding by the day, could have a room with space enough for two beds as they grew; he actually appreciated having less space to keep clean and tidy.
It was the bond he had watched grow between his younger siblings, the one which tied them together closer than he had ever been with anyone, which made Makoto sick with envy. He had been so happy when he had been told he would have a little brother or sister, longing for that close sibling bond, to feel like part of a unique unit of sorts, and even more so when he was told there would be two. But as Ren and Ran grew, it became clear that between the three of them, he was the odd one out, the third wheel, and it was a sadness he couldn’t shake, despite how much he adored his little brother and sister.
But at least he had Haru. Haru, who was always close by. Haru, who could make Makoto smile and feel better whatever had made him feel down, just by being there. Even if Haru probably meant more to Makoto, than Makoto meant to Haru.
The crayon slipped out of Makoto’s hand. On any other day, the thought would have come and gone without further ado. But today… Haru turned ten today. It was Haru’s birthday, and he hadn’t been invited. He had waited for the invitation to Haru’s birthday party all week, but there had been nothing. Haru hadn’t said a word, and so Makoto didn’t want to bring it up. But today was Haru’s birthday and Makoto was not invited. He had closed the windows and drawn the curtains so he wouldn’t see or hear any sign of the party he was left out of. He looked down at the paper in front of him where a dolphin and an orca made out a circle chasing each other’s tails. He had asked his dad to make a copy of it from a colouring book so that Makoto could colour it in and give the finished picture to Haru as a birthday card, along with the blue pencil case with the dolphin on the side which Makoto had begged his mum to get Haru as a present. Crisply wrapped in purple and blue wave patterned paper, the latter stood beside his box of crayons on his desk.
The picture was already done. He had taken such great care to stay within the lines, and he had merely been adding some decorative bubbles around it. Some wet splotches had joined the bubbles, and he wiped his eyes to stop more from following suit. He hadn’t even eaten yet, but he just wanted to go to bed and sleep. The water made the paper of the picture warp a little, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, he pushed his chair away from the desk and padded over to the bed. Lifting the covers, he crawled in. He wondered what Haru was doing. Was he eating cake? Opening presents? Makoto’s eyes darted over to his desk, and he could feel tears sting in his eyes again. He had always been the needy one of the two. Haru had an independence about him, and it only made Makoto admire him more. But now it seemed Haru had finally tired of his friend’s clinginess, finally run out of patience. And once again Makoto would be on the outside looking in. He buried his sobs in his pillow.
A phone rang downstairs. He could hear his mother’s muffled voice but not make out the words. He heard the sound of the phone being hung up, and then his mother’s voice again, however this time her tone was annoyed, angry even. His stomach fell as his father’s voice mingled with hers. Could it have been from school? He had been increasingly despondent in class as the week had proceeded. He buried himself deeper into the covers and eventually fell asleep.
He woke up to a knocking and yawned.
“Makoto? There’s someone here to see you.” His mother’s voice was muffled through the door. He swung his feet out of bed as the door slowly opened. Blue eyes peered at him from beneath black locks of hair and Makoto sprung out of bed. Why was Haru in his house? Had he left his own birthday party? Makoto eyes met Haru’s where a question was waiting for him in the deep of those blue irises.
Can I come in?
Makoto nodded, and Haru stepped in, his eyes darting down to the floor. He wasn’t dressed like he was celebrating his birthday, Makoto observed, and his mother told them she would be right back and went downstair, leaving the two of them on their own. Makoto had never felt awkward around Haru before. It was a new feeling, and he hated it. He didn’t know what to say, so he said the only thing he could think of.
“Happy birthday.” Haru’s head shot up, his eyes wide.
“You remembered,” he whispered, and Makoto was reeling with confusion.
“Of course I remembered. I got you a gift and I made a card and everything, but… but then you never invited me to your birthday party…” Makoto felt his lower lip quiver, so he bit it. Haru mumbled something incomprehensible.
“Huh?”
“I didn’t get one. A birthday party. I didn’t get one this year,” Haru repeated and looked away to the side, and something tightened in Makoto’s chest.
“Why not?”
“My mum has been working night shifts all week and suddenly had to take the ones for the weekend as well. I guess she must have forgotten. She called your mum to ask if I could stay here since she won’t be back until Monday morning.” The pieces fell into place and the tight feeling in Makoto’s chest grew tighter.
Makoto’s head didn’t know what to do, so his feet decided to walk over to the desk and his hands picked up the card and the present. He looked down at them and then at Haru, and climbed into his bed, settling in cross-legged, patting the space beside him.
“Come here.” Haru looked up at him and walked over, joining Makoto on the bed, mirroring his crossed legs.
“Happy birthday, Haru,” Makoto said and put the drawing and the present in Haru’s lap. A drop fell off Haru’s chin, joining the still damp spots on the drawing, and Makoto looked up to find Haru’s eyes welled over with salt water, his shoulders shaking. That was more than Makoto could take, and he leaned over, hugging his best friend tightly, and Haru hugged him back.
“I would never forget your birthday, Haru. Never. You’re my best friend.” Haru sobbed quietly into his shoulder. They sat like that for a few moments, both crying, before their tears dried out, and they let go to wipe eyes and noses. Haru, having regained his composure, unwrapped the present and gave Makoto that smile he only ever gave his best friend.
There was a knock on the door, and Makoto’s mother entered, carrying a tray of green mochi, each with a little candle on, and Makoto counted ten of them.
“We didn’t have a proper cake, so I hope these will do,” Mrs. Tachibana explained and came over to the two of them with the tray, Haru watching with wide eyes. Placing the tray on the bed beside the two boys, she smiled at the blue-eyed boy and stroked his hair.
“I’m so sorry you don’t get to celebrate your birthday with your family, Haruka,” Haru looked up at her and gave her a small smile.
“Makoto is family,” he simply said, as if it was a known fact, taking his friend’s hand, squeezing it. Makoto squeezed back. Haru looked at him. And then they shared a smile, the way Ren and Ran did sometimes, and Makoto’s heart burst like firework on Obon.