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“TODAY’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME, YOUR BEST FRIEND?!”
Aizawa grimaces at the loud volume, covering his ears and glaring at the only person who could reach that level with their voice. He uncovers his ears when Yamada throws him an apologetic smile and stops talking.
“Who said you were my best friend? We’ve only been friends for two months and you didn’t even know it’s my birthday today,” Aizawa fires back, walking to the right to avoid colliding with a group of people walking in his way.
Yamada follows suit, grabbing a hold of Aizawa’s school jacket before slinging an arm around the stoic teen’s shoulders with a bright grin on his face. “Ah, but you said ‘friends’ meaning you consider me as such, and that means I’m that step closer to becoming your best friend!”
Aizawa side-eye him, pinching the blond’s hand on his shoulder, smirking when Yamada flinches and moves his arm away to nurse the redness on his hand.
They continue to walk towards the train station, the same route they’ve always traveled together since they became friends, or more so, when Aizawa considered Yamada as a friend. Yamada had always hung around Aizawa since the start of their second year of high school, but it isn’t until recently that Aizawa saw the blond as a friend rather than a classmate who’s stalking him (Yamada threatens to stop tutoring him anytime he refers to him as such).
“How old are you?” Yamada asks, shoving his hands in his pockets when a chill breeze flows by.
“Isn’t math your best subject? You figure it out.” Aizawa answers, letting out a low chuckle when Yamada tries to playfully grab at his scarf to pull it off. Aizawa steps back out of reach and tucks the loose ends of his scarf in his jacket as Yamada sticks his tongue out. So childish, Aizawa thinks.
“It’s easier if you would just tell me, considering you didn’t even tell me it was your birthday today!”
“Why do you care so much?” Aizawa inquires, squinting over at Yamada as if he was trying to answer his own question. Aizawa was a lot more intuitive compared to his other classmates, and he could use his skills to his advantage, but with Yamada, he was at lost with what the other could be thinking or feeling.
Aizawa watches as Yamada gives a shrug of his shoulders, burrowing his chin further in his scarf. Insecure and quiet were not words he would describe his friend when they first met, but as he gotten to know Yamada over time, he’s been more exposed to this side of him a lot more.
It isn’t until they’re at the platform waiting for the train standing next to other passengers when Yamada answers in a low whisper for only Aizawa to hear, “I consider you as a friend and friends should know this kinda shit.”
The way Yamada told him, melancholy and doubtful in their friendship, had Aizawa feeling guilty for the reason why he didn’t tell Yamada it was his birthday was because he forgot about his birthday.
He didn’t forget his birthday because he didn’t like them; in fact, he enjoys his birthdays since he didn’t have to worry about surprise parties (he didn’t have a lot of friends and they know he hates surprise parties), and he could feel the sense of pride in himself gaining and growing his hero skills from last year at the age of fourteen and now at fifteen.
Despite enjoying his birthdays, Aizawa sees it as any other day nonetheless, and forgets about it until his dad or Sousaki mentions it, asking what he wants as a gift. With his forgetfulness, he didn’t tell Yamada about it until his friend asked him now about his plans for tonight. Another reason why Aizawa enjoys his birthdays: his dad takes him out on his birthday night to his favorite restaurant.
With Yamada’s initial surprised reaction, yelling at Aizawa, and now his dejected mood, Aizawa could tell that his friend held an importance in knowing this sort of information. Aizawa didn’t understand it; Sousaki didn’t make a big deal out of it when Aizawa didn’t tell her the day he was born (she found out from his dad), so why is Yamada?
“I forgot it was my birthday,” Aizawa explains, and when Yamada gives him a look of disbelieve, he explains further, “For me, it’s any other day. My dad and I aren’t too big on celebrations, he only takes me out to eat, and I rarely ask for gifts or money so I don’t see today as a big thing.”
When the train pulls in and opens its doors for the passengers, Yamada is the one to lead their way. They end up standing, hands clamped around the metal pole as passengers squeeze in and try to fill the space up. Aizawa feels his space constricting and he’s soon pushed up near Yamada, a welcoming warmth for Aizawa as he gets cold easily. Up close, Aizawa studies the faint freckles on Yamada’s cheeks, his lips chapped from the cold, and the stupid design on his glasses frames.
He apologizes in the air between them causing Yamada to grin.
“Don’t be sorry that you want to be close to me! I am pretty irresistible!”
Aizawa can’t help roll his eyes at the loud mouth’s cheeky response, “For not telling you about my birthday.”
“Make it up to me then!” Yamada responds, gleeful and more vibrant than earlier, the same energy Aizawa is so used to seeing.
Aizawa raises an eyebrow at him, “How? I’m not buying you pastries again. I think that’s the reason why you’re the slowest runner in the class.” Aizawa smirks up at him when Yamada glowers down at him.
“Shut up! I’m the slowest because running is the worst and who needs to run? Never mind, don’t answer that. You can make it up to me by letting me get you something!”
Aizawa frowns at the suggestion, not one to enjoy having gifts bought for, but before he could answer Yamada is speaking again, “I won’t get you anything expensive and anything you don’t like! Just, please, let me be your best friend and buy you something for your birthday?”
With over dramatic puppy eyes begging for Aizawa to say yes, he gives in only because the look is annoying and he doesn’t want to hear Yamada whining about how he didn’t get Aizawa a gift for his birthday. “Just one gift, under one-thousand Yen. And, again, we’re not best friends.”
He watches Yamada’s face lit up with excitement, and if they weren’t on a crowded train, he would be jumping in celebration.
“My puppy-dog eyes always work! Okay, so what’s your favorite candy?”
“I like dark chocolate. I don’t like any of the filled chocolates. And I don’t like anything chewy that will get stuck in my teeth.”
Yamada nods as he takes in Aizawa’s input, “Alright, alright, I can work with that! This is so exciting! You’re going to get the best late gift ever from your best friend!”
“Again, we’re not best friends.”
It’s no surprise to Aizawa to see Yamada at the school’s gate in the morning, swaying forward and back on his feet with so much pep that he could replace the school’s cheerleader team; his smile wide as he waits with a bag behind his back. His smile is dangerously contagious because Aizawa was soon biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from forming a small smile, feeling the excitement Yamada was giving off.
When he approaches the bubbly teen, he hears, loud and clear, “HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY, AIZAWA-CHAN!”
The brunet scowls sharply at Yamada, now standing in front of him, with his arms crossed. “Don’t call me that.”
Yamada shook with mirth, clearly enjoying Aizawa’s reaction. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I knew you were going to get all pouty over it and I couldn’t resist!”
“I don’t pout.”
“You pout all the time,” Yamada tells him, but he continues to speak before Aizawa could argue back. “Happy late, fifteenth birthday, Aizawa Shouta!” And he presents the mystery bag from behind his back to Aizawa’s eyesight.
It was a shimmery-foiled bag, tied off with a red ribbon, its ends curled up and bouncy. Aizawa grabs hold of it from Yamada’s palm and studies the contents inside. Without opening it, he could see little cat faces, in various colors and expressions, drawn on little … balls?
“What are these?” Aizawa questions, pulling at the ribbon and soon his nostrils were filled with the sweet scent of chocolate.
“They’re dark chocolate truffles! I didn’t think you would like something like chocolate covered strawberries, or a cake, so I baked you dark chocolate truffles! I drew different breeds of cats on each one,” Yamada explains, his hands fishing out a chocolate sphere with an orange and white calico smiling cat face on it. “Here, try it. Let me know what you think.”
Aizawa takes the happy calico face chocolate from Yamada and studies it. The lines were well drawn on, and they looked like chocolates you would buy at the candy store rather than something homemade.
Yamada watches intently and patiently as Aizawa places the sweet in his mouth, “So?”
Letting it melt on his tongue, Aizawa couldn’t deny how delicious they were. The bitterness of the chocolate flooded his taste buds; silky on his tongue as the outer shell melts away to the soft center, more bitter than the outer shell, but just as good. Aizawa was not a sweets or dessert person, but this is making him turn into one.
“They’re good. Are you sure you baked them?”
“Of course I did! It took me two trials and several hours to find the right balance between bitter and sweet to give you the best gift ever!”
As Aizawa grabbed another chocolate, he was impressed and flattered that Yamada went through the hard work just for him, to ensure that this was going to be Aizawa’s best gift ever, and he isn’t going to deny that it was. A feeling of joy washed over Aizawa as he looked over to Yamada, who is rambling on about the chemistry behind the truffle; this guy is his friend, who wanted to bake for him for his birthday because Yamada was genuinely a kind-hearted guy, with a warm laugh that geeks out over math, and Aizawa didn’t want it any other way.
He offers a piece to Yamada (a blonde cat with stars in its eyes), who smiles and takes it, complimenting on his own skills when he bites into it.
“Thank you, Yamada. This is the best gift.” From his best friend (but Aizawa wasn’t going to say that out loud).