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The pull of sleep is still strong when Miyadate wakes up to an empty bed, the covers perfectly smoothed out beside him. It’s not like he was expecting anyone to be there, but it hadn’t stopped him from hoping that his boyfriend had found a way to stay home today. Sighing he closes his eyes again, giving in to the warmth of his bed. If it’s just him then there’s no harm in sleeping late. He hadn’t made any other plans for his birthday; it was a miracle he had the day off in the first place.
Shifting to get comfortable again, he notices an unusual tightness tugging at his pinky. He pulls his arm out from under the warmth of his blankets and gazes at the red ribbon tied just below his second knuckle in a neat little bow. The string extends from his finger to disappear under the bed’s second pillow. Miyadate chuckles with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
All lingering desires to return to sleep are now lost as he curls the soft ribbon around his fingers, weaving it in and out and around. He stares at the ribbon absentmindedly, lost in thought as he muses over what Shota could be up to. It’s not often that Shota spoils him. Usually Miyadate is the one doing all of the spoiling. It’s not something he can help. It has always been that way.
With the ribbon now gracefully draping around his fingers, hand, and wrist twice, Miyadate turns over the pillow. Everything starts the make sense as he peers down at the Polaroid attached. There, looking back at him is the familiar sleepy smirk that makes his heart squeeze. He gazes down affectionately at the photo of a man hugging his pillow and staring with half-lidded eyes at the camera lens. It’s true what everyone says, he really does bear a striking resemblance to the Cinnamoroll character. But in Miyadate’s eyes, Shota is so much cuter.
Miyadate props himself up onto one arm, fiddling with the ribbon again as he smiles affectionately down at the picture. It takes another few moments before he notices the sticky note attached at its back and turns it over to read.
‘Happy Birthday. I’m sorry you couldn’t wake up beside me today, but I hope this makes up for it. I’m cute right :3 love you
-Your Shoppi-kyun (follow the string)’
Miyadate snorts softly. Never has he called Shota by such a disgustingly cringe-worthy name. Okay maybe he’s known for using the odd pet name, but “Shoppi-kyun”? Miyadate glances at the picture once more, shaking his head in amusement before following the note’s instructions. He continues wrapping the ribbon around his arm loosely and follows it from the bed, into the adjoined bathroom. It is already visible exiting the bathroom again but he pays it no mind. The instructions say to follow the string, so that’s what he does.
Halfway into the bathroom there’s another note suspended on the string. “You’re so cute when you’re sleepy.”
Miyadate chuckles upon reading it, but then catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair is sticking out in at least three different directions. Trying to fix it half-heartedly, he grumbles to himself while wondering whether Watanabe is trying to tease him, or if he’s being sincere. Bets are out on the former. It’s a losing battle with his hair, so begrudgingly Miyadate moves further into the bathroom to pull the next Polaroid from the mirror, the string falling along with it. In his hand is a picture of his Shota, a toothbrush in his mouth, looking back through the mirror, his hair about as chaotic as Miyadate’s own. He really is cute when he’s sleepy. The ribbon dips down from Miyadate’s hand, leading to his already prepared toothbrush sitting alongside the sink. Carefully, he sticks the picture back where it was on the mirror, watching it as he brushes his teeth, his lips curling into a small smile.
With minty fresh breath and a ribbon that now curls right up his arm, Miyadate continues on his quest around the apartment. The first stop is his closet; where he finds a brand new fluffy white bathrobe. It would look just like all of his others, if it wasn’t for the subtle black tiger stripes adorning only the bottom half of the sleeves. As expected there’s also a polaroid attached. This one of Shota giving a peace sign while posing next to Miyadate’s stuffed white tiger toy, High-heel. He shrugs on the robe while carefully winding the ribbon back up his arm and out of the sleeve. The sensation of the soft robe sliding over the silky ribbon sending a shiver over his body as he puts it on.
It’s a momentary distraction; soon Miyadate is following the ribbon out of their shared room and down the hall. Following it into the kitchen where it disappears inside the closed door of the refrigerator. Inside is a covered plate of pancakes. The pancakes are simple and plain, stacked three high, the edges a stark black where they’ve burned to a crisp. It’s cute; even though they’re burnt, Miyadate plans to eat all three of them. A message is written in chocolate sauce on the top of them.
“Happy Birthday Ryota”
The writing curls around beautifully. Shota’s handwriting really is incredibly cute when he’s trying extra hard. Alongside the pancakes, there’s a number of small pots containing toppings for the pancakes. Small fruits, cream, chocolate sauce, jams, and candies. All his favourites. The top most pot makes Miyadate chuckle.
All that’s inside is a photo of Shota offering a burnt piece of chocolate smothered pancake, his lips curled up into a pout, a smudge of chocolate sauce in the corner. Without a doubt, that particular pancake has already been consumed by those very lips. Miyadate wishes he could clean the chocolate from them himself, sighing as he runs his ribbon wrapped thumb over the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth in the photograph. Such a tease.
Miyadate knows it was his boyfriend’s intention for him to eat before continuing along the ribbon, but he instead dips a strawberry in chocolate sauce and saves the rest for later. He
couldn’t he possibly savour the taste of his breakfast with that ribbon still attached to his finger. There’s still more to come, and he knows it. He must find the end.
The next series of photos seem utterly pointless, the ribbon winding about the kitchen, genkan and into the hall again. Each is a photo of Shota pulling different silly faces. Cheeks puffed, tongue out, eyes crossed. Each as amusing as the last; making Miyadate start to wonder if this is going anywhere, or if Shota was just having too much fun taking selfies.
As he opens the linen closet, the string having disappeared inside, a good thirty red and blue helium balloons burst out, engulfing him before dispersing about the hall. Dazed, it takes a moment for him to notice the one balloon that didn’t spill out, floating eye-level in front of him. It’s not quite touching the ceiling, the string in Miyadate’s hands keeping it from floating higher. There’s also another weight, hanging from a short ribbon, at the bottom. Carefully, he unties the little black pouch from the balloon, excitement peaking as he peers inside. This must be what all the fuss was about, if the sheer mass of balloons is anything to go by.
Dipping his fingers inside the pouch, Miyadate can’t help but run his fingers over the cool smooth surface of the metal-like object, as if discerning it’s origin by feel. The outside is seamlessly smooth, but the inside has some sort of rough edging. He pulls out the simple gold band bracelet, admiring how delicate yet strong it looks. On the inside of the band he spots what had felt rough to his touch. His name is engraved in beautiful curling letters adorned with intricate rose patterns and vines. It’s breathtakingly beautiful and he wonders why anyone would put such a beautiful pattern on the inside rather than the outside.
The balloon bobs higher as Miyadate lets it loose, preferring to occupy his hands with putting the band over his wrist. He almost forgets entirely about the photos he has been collecting, when the latest one drops out of the pouch he’s holding haphazardly in his left hand. This one is different to the others. It’s not a polaroid. It’s a picture of the two of them staring blankly at a camera. The very picture they’d taken to send to Sakuma at the end of their first date. It was a silly idea really. Sakuma and Abe-chan had set up the whole thing with the intention of it being a “romantic” evening, when instead they had spent the entire time laughing at their ridiculously cheesy ideas of romance. Miyadate chuckles to himself at the memory; so much time has passed since then.
As it turns out, the red ribbon didn’t stop at the linen closet. Miyadate is surprised when he notices it winding its way back into the main sitting area. He hasn’t been that way yet. He heads into the living room, manoeuvring around the couch that they had moved to make room for the kotatsu at the beginning of winter; Another of Shota’s recent impulse buys. Miyadate is still not entirely sure what initiated that shopping adventure, but it had been a memorable experience trying to cart the table and quilting home on the train together.
Curiously, the red ribbon led him around to the other side of the kotatsu. It’s only as he rounds the bend that Miyadate can see the string tied, in a little bow, to the pinky finger of a hand sticking out from under the kotatsu blankets. For a moment he stands there confused. That hand isn’t supposed to be there. It’s supposed to be in Shibuya, posing for a mixed group photo shoot. But that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that Shota is home for his birthday.
Miyadate crouches down beside Shota’s hand, tapping on each of his fingers one-by-one. He’s not responding, so Miyadate pokes a little harder.
“Shota?” he whispers.
Still nothing.
“Shota,” he says a little louder.
There’s a disgruntled mumbling sound coming from under the blankets. Miyadate laughs and peeks under, curious as to just how long he’s been sleeping under there. Miyadate hadn’t even noticed him as he had passed earlier.
“Ryota, it’s bright. Close the curtain,” Shota grumbles, obviously not ready to leave the comfort of his makeshift cave.
Smiling, Miyadate takes the hint, crawling into the space beside him and pulling the quilt back down to stop the light leaking in.
It doesn’t take long for Shota’s arms to wrap around Miyadate’s waist and pull him in close, resting his cheek on Miyadate’s chest. Miyadate becoming Shota’s new human teddy bear. He fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist and smiles, leaning down to place a small kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. He can feel Shota’s lips forming into a lazy smile before he pulls away.
“Happy Birthday Ryota.”
A comfortable silence permeates the inside of the kotatsu blankets, only broken by the soft sounds of their lips against each other’s. Silent that is, until Miyadate tries to thread his fingers into Watanabe’s hair, but finds that his arm is caught up in a tangle of red ribbons instead. Grumbling in frustration as his attempts at freeing himself only make the tangle worse.
Shota laughs loudly, clutching at his stomach. The situation made ever funnier by the disgruntled pout forming on Miyadate’s face. Shota tugs at the ribbon.
“I guess I have a present to unwrap today, too.”