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Hoshi doesn’t celebrate birthdays. He hasn’t had a use for them ever since before his imprisonment, and he plans on keeping it that way. He has no use for an entire day dedicated to himself. He doesn’t deserve even a single minute. Nothing personal to anyone else, of course, but having so much attention on himself… well, for his sake, he hopes it doesn’t happen. He doesn’t know how he’d react.
So of course Saihara and the others pull out a cake that morning in the dining hall.
“Happy birthday, Hoshi-kun!!!”
Everyone shouts in (almost) unison. Iruma’s cackle starts before the end of the phrase, and Ouma draws out his -chan a bit long, but otherwise it occurred almost perfectly.
Wow. Wow. How long has it been since anyone’s done this for him?
“You like cake?” Gonta grins. “Gonta thinks Ryoma no like chocolate… I do hope Gonta correct!”
Hoshi can’t help a smile spreading on his face. “Hey, of course,” he laughs. “This is…”
“I have prepared a delicious two tier birthday cake,” Tojo begins, cupping her hands over the top of one another. “It is sure to stimulate every sense possible for the optimal birthday experience. That is,” and here she smiles softly, “if you are willing to enjoy it.”
His smile grows a bit wider. “Yeah, this is…”
“Don’t forget me!” Iruma shrieks. “Without my big ass fuckin’ Cake Mixer 9000 shit, none of y’all would’ve had anything to make it with!”
Kiibo frowns at that. “Iruma-san!” He tugs at her arm with the persistence of a little brother. “It was a group effort!”
“Aw, ignore her, Keeboy-chan,” Ouma scratches his neck. “That nasty little whore doesn’t know a good birthday even if it bit her in her huge—“
“Hoshi-kun,” Akamatsu interrupts with an apologetic smile, “we all worked together to make you the best cake we can afford!” She nudges her companion, who, conveniently, happens to be Saihara. “Isn’t that right, Saihara-kun?”
Saihara looks up, surprised. “Ah… yeah, that’s right,” he confirms. He’s got a bashful smile on his face, almost as though he put more work into this than he wants to admit. Well. Heh. That’s cute, isn’t it? Kids indulging in the things they love? Hoshi will let him have it.
The others express their well intentions, from Korekiyo’s chuckles to Himiko’s insistence that she made it using her maaaaagic (when pressed, she admits she simply added the eggs to the batter) to Angie’s congratulations on Hoshi surviving another year thanks to God (though he could go without that one) and beyond. And it’s all… so…
It’s a lot. Emotionally. All this attention on him, all the well wishes… he’s on the verge of overstimulation, if he’s being honest. But damn it, if it doesn’t feel nice to be appreciated.
Tojo indicates that she would like to speak with a raised finger, and waits for things to settle down. “Though we could not find candles suitable enough for the cake, we did find… something as a substitute. I hope it is to your satisfaction.” She uncovers the top of the cake with a flourish.
Said something is a wick for the end of a bomb. Hoshi smiles nervously.
“No sweat, man!” Momota claps Hoshi’s back. “If there’s a bomb, we can just have Kiibo eat it!”
Kiibo splutters his response. “Th- That is preposterous! I do not have an iron stomach with which to contain explosive materials!” He swats away an excited Ouma, whom is presently poking the robot’s side in search of the impenetrable stomach. “That is simply… robophobic…!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Maki deadpans. Even she showed up? That’s pretty cool, if Hoshi had to say anything on it. So many people… wait, everyone showed up. Wait. The most people he’s ever had at a birthday party (if this counted as one) was his girlfriend and his sister. His parents, obviously, don’t count. So this… is a pleasant surprise. Near 15 people, all celebrating something he forgot even existed. He…
“Have a wish, already?” Amami smiles softly. He’s behind Hoshi at his back, a hand resting on his chair. Ah, he sat down, didn’t he?
Hoshi thinks on it… for just a moment. Then he nods.
“Don’t say it!” Iruma shakes her head vigorously. “It’s bad fuckin’ luck, you know!”
Hoshi smiles. “I don’t plan to,” he says.
On the count of three.
One…
Two…
Three!
He blows out the bomb wick with all of his might. It… goes out on the second try. Good effort, though! Everyone claps, with the louder ones whooping and hollering.
His first big birthday party. His… his first. And he’s a teen.
“… ah, Hoshi-kun,” Saihara leans over the table from his spot on the other side of it. “You’re…”
Hoshi sniffs, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “Yeah. I’m alright,” he says, smile on his face. “Just glad I’m here.”
As his newfound friends go about dedicating slices of cake to themselves, his smile reaches the biggest it’s ever been. His eyes are even crinkling at the edges. This… this is pretty cool. All things considered. First time he’s ever cried tears of joy, too. Safe to say that he’s having a normal one, emotionally.
Aw, hell. What’s the rush? He can enjoy this as long as he wants to.
With the patient gusto of a man with joy in his heart, Hoshi bites into his cake.
It’s good.
Happy birthday, Ryoma.