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part one; cow cakes
Shizuo really wished his birthday fell upon pay day more often. What also didn’t help was that his birthday was at the end of the month. His rent was sneaking up on him, and the old landlady with mascara gunk stuck in her eyelid was already glowering at him whenever he climbed the stairs to his apartment. Just once, Shizuo would have liked to treat himself on birthday.
He didn’t exactly have a crowd in his life to celebrate with. That was fine with him, all he ever wanted from the birthday tradition was a cake. That’s all he ever really needed. Just a cake.
Most of the time his cake was from the supermarket, one of the small, cheap ones without much decoration. Today, though, he happened to wander by an elegant bakery. Captivated by the exquisite decorative details and the elaborate flavors of the cakes on display in the outside window, Shizuo found himself stepping through entrance before he could stop himself.
Ringaling!
“Welcome!” chimed one of the bakers behind the counter, returning to her work when Shizuo failed to return a greeting.
Uh…
No one paid him any particular mind, but Shizuo couldn’t help but feel out of place. There wasn’t too much of a crowd, which was nice. There was just a young couple having gourmet hot chocolates by the window, a mother and son picking out packaged treats, and an elderly woman being helped at the counter.
You cannot afford anything in here, Shizuo scolded himself.
But surely it wouldn’t hurt to just look.
Shizuo cautiously approached the display case, which was like a wonderland of desserts. Not only were there whole cakes, but intricately sculpted cupcakes, chocolates and pastries. All of them had professionally iced designs around their edges. The cakes were large and thick with the promise of delicious filling. He began reading their labels, chocolate mousse… peanut butter… strawberry… peppermint… red velvet… custard… Catching his reflection in the glass, Shizuo quickly wiped some of the drool from his mouth.
“If you like chocolate, you should try the Cow Cake.”
Startled, Shizuo thwacked his forehead on the glass. He hadn’t realized how close he’d been staring. Rubbing the fresh bruise, he glanced up to find one of the employees peering down at him. She was standing on her tippy toes just to lean hear forearms on top of the counter.
“S-sorry?”
The girl grinned at him. She did not appear too much younger than him, perhaps a college student. “I saw you were mostly looking at the chocolate flavors, but you totally glossed over the Cow Cake!” Reaching over the counter, she tapped the glass in front of a white frosted cake with chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate shavings on top.
“Cow… cake…?” Shizuo had never heard of such a thing.
“That’s white-chocolate frosting on the outside,” the girl explained, “but inside is chocolate cake and a layer of milk chocolate mousse about this thick!” She held her index and her thumb apart from each other to show a length that was about half of her face. “Plus, there’s strawberries on top! Kinda all the best flavors, don’t you think?”
That did sound really ideal to Shizuo, especially the name.
But Shizuo was kidding himself. Coming into this place had been a mistake, because now he had to overcome temptation.
“I really…” Shizuo grumbled, annoyed at himself and at Life, “just came into look…”
“Into a bakery just to browse? That’s torturous!” She was beaming playfully. “You’ll love it, I swear. Baker’s honor! Granny makes the best chocolate mousse in this hemisphere, I swear. Here -! ” She disappeared for a moment.
Shizuo froze, unsure what to do. Am I supposed to move? Fortunately, the girl returned quickly with a little paper cup of something brown and whipped. Must be chocolate mousse.
“Free sample!” she said, “Go ahead!” Pushing the cup to Shizuo, she nodded encouragingly.
Well, if it’s free… Shizuo accepted the cup with a muttered “Thank you” before throwing the mousse back like a shot of Kahlua.
Immediately, he wished he had a thousand more free samples in front of him. That was… fuckin’ delicious. But he was speechless, it was so good. If he opened his mouth, he might let some of the flavor that still lingered on his tongue escape. He wanted more. He wanted a ramen bowl full of just that chocolate mousse, nothing else. That’s all he wanted in the whole world.
The girl giggled. “Told ya it was good. So whatta ya say? Yes to a Cow Cake?”
“W-wait…” Shizuo took half a step back. This was a problem. How could he break it to her that he couldn’t afford the cake? He mentally counted the money he had on his person. If he did buy this cake, it only meant that he’d have to skimp on groceries the next couple weeks. And be late for rent. Again.
“Do you want any writing?” Pulling out a small order sheet and a pen, she began scribbling something.
“Uh, no,” Shizuo was trying to say, “I can’t - It’s not…”
“What’s the occasion, anyway?” she asked sweetly.
“Um, birthday…” What are you doing?! You should not buy this cake! Go to the supermarket like you usually do! They’re cheap there, even if the cake is soggy and the frosting has no richness!
Too bad she was already pulling a Cow Cake from the display case.
Curse this chick’s excellent gung-ho salesmanship! It kinda pissed him off, but she had all the cake. He could never harm the cake. When it came to cake, or rent, he would always choose cake.
“So whose birthday is it? I can write a name.”
Before Shizuo could stop himself, his mouth was muttering “M… mine…”
For some reason, this make the girl stop and tilt her head. Her pondering gaze made Shizuo uncomfortable. He almost stormed off under it, but she straightened, bounced, and smiled.
“Right!” She nodded, “Wait right here and your cake will be right out!” Picking up the cake with expert grace, she disappeared into the back again.
Obediently, Shizuo did as he was told, only because there was cake in it for him.
Soon enough, the girl returned with a white parcel that certainly contained the Cow Cake. When Shizuo withdrew his wallet, the girl shook her head and waved her hand from side to side. Confused, Shizuo rose an eyebrow at her.
“It’s on the house,” she explained with an easy smile. “Nobody should buy their own cake on their birthday!”
“R-really?” Shizuo gaped. “No, but I can… You don’t have to--”
But it was too late. “Enjoy your birthday!” was all she said before she was already helping another customer down the counter. This was obviously not up for debate.
Swallowing, Shizuo put his wallet back in his pocket, took the parcel in both hands, and exited the store. Despite how cold it was outside, Shizuo’s face was unnaturally warm. Was he blushing? Probably. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done something like that for him…
Glancing behind him, Shizuo memorized the name of the bakery from its sign. Though, he wasn’t sure if he would go back there again. If he did, it would be to thank the kind girl who had just given him a fantastic birthday present, even though she didn’t know him at all. Now that he realized, he hadn’t thanked her in the store. Stupid… he cursed himself as he lifted the lid of the parcel to peek inside.
On top of the cake, between the chocolate covered strawberries, the girl had written Happy Birthday Stranger! in blue icing. Shizuo almost punched a wall he was so happy.
part two; superheroes
This year, Shizuo got to sleep in on his birthday. Unlike other bosses of Shizuo’s past, Tom let him have the whole day off. What a guy!
So he did just that, he slept in until 11am. That was late enough; Shizuo didn’t want to waste his birthday away, after all.
With his free time, he wanted to indulge in his favorite things with the excuse that it was his birthday and he could do whatever he wanted. Staying in his pajamas, Shizuo switched on the television as he poured himself a bowl of his favorite, sweetest cereal. He plopped himself down on the couch and munched through bowl after bowl. It was a weekday, and most of the programs were news and daytime talk shows. So Shizuo turned on his old Nintendo console instead and played some of the vintage video games he still had from his childhood.
Throughout the rest of the morning, up until the middle of the afternoon, Shizuo received various "Happy birthday!" text messages from family and friends. From Tom, from Kasuka, from Vorona, from Shinra… Well, he never got too many, anyways.
Around 3pm, he started getting bored.
Not bothering to change out of his pajamas, he only put on his slippers and a jacket. He was only going for a short walk to the park down the block and back. It was his birthday, so he could look like a hobo if he wanted. Not that that did much against the cold in January.
Why’s my birthday gotta be in the winter, anyways? Shizuo would have preferred a nice, warm, Summer birthday. A date on which he could go to the beach. What could he do on the twenty-eighth of January? Go skiing? No thank you!
It’d be nice, at least, if he could piggyback off of someone’s Spring or Summer birthday. Then he could be taken to the beach, by them. All of the Spring and Summer birthdays he knew of belonged to less savory people, unfortunately.
He only stayed at the park for two cigarette lengths. Not many people were there, since most were either at school or work. A pet dog let Shizuo pet it, which could have turned out to be the best thing to happen to Shizuo all day.
Fortunately, at precisely 6:12pm, Celty Sturluson showed up at his door with take-out, a movie, and a readily typed [Happy Birthday!] on her phone.
She came inside, and Shizuo opened the take-out with gracious thanks. He often felt guilty eating in front of Celty, but he was hungry. Not to mention, she had gotten some of his favorites: chicken wings, beef teriyaki, fried rice and noodles. Making himself a bowl of everything mixed together how he liked it, they then sat on the couch to play the film.
[Sorry Shinra couldn’t make it.] she typed, [He got called to somebody apartment, but he says to wish you happy birthday, too!]
Shizuo waved a hand, mouthful of noodles. “S’no problem.”
He’d rather it just be Celty, anyways.
The movie was one of Hollywood’s action blockbusters. Action movies were the only type Shizuo really liked anyways. He had seen this one before, but Celty must have remembered he had liked it. They had watched some of the series previous installments together.
Shizuo always sort of resonated with the scientist. Not the rich one, but the angry one. Shizuo did not have a doctorate or a genius knowledge of radiation and chemistry. What Shizuo did have in common with the character was an uncontrollable rage that often turned him into what many would call a monster. Even without the giant body or the green skin, people saw Shizuo that way. They both had the strength to level a city block, if provoked.
This guy, though, was a superhero. He used his rage and his strength to save mankind from an evil alien race. Shizuo had never done anything like that with his… condition.
It was probably impossible. That’s why this was a movie, and his life was reality.
All of a sudden, during one of the scenes just before the climax, when the spy was comforting the archer, Shizuo felt a tap on his shoulder.
[Do you have a favorite?] Shizuo read on Celty’s phone when he looked up.
“Black Widow,” answered Shizuo instantly, and it wasn’t a lie. He might have related mostly to the Hulk, but that didn’t make the monster his favorite character.
[Really?]
“She gets the most done,” and Shizuo had a firm appreciation for her resiliency. It was familiar from someone he knew. “I think she works the hardest and cares the most.”
Crossing her arms across her chest, Celty sat there like she was pondering something.
“What about you?”
After holding up her knuckles to an invisible chin, she typed [Thor.]
Shizuo snorted. “Really?”
[Even if the mythology is all wrong. He reminds me of somebody.]
Fair enough.
They didn’t need to ask each other who their least favorite was. That much was obvious: the no good, power hungry, mischievous villain with a god complex and stringy black hair.
As the film reached its climax, a thought struck Shizuo. “Hey, Celty,” he asked suddenly, “you know when your birthday is?”
She hesitated to type something. [I don’t exactly remember…]
“You should have one in the Summer,” Shizuo said decisively. “In July, when it’s warmest. We can go to the beach.”
[I don’t think it works like that!]
“C’mon, we gotta celebrate your life somehow!”
[But…!]
“How about July 28th? That’s six months after mine. We’d be on each other’s half birthdays.” That made enough sense to Shizuo. “And it suits you, because you’re a warm person.”
The black cloud above Celty’s network poofed repeatedly as it did whenever she got flustered. Her shoulders hunched as she typed something on to her display, deleted it, wrote something else, deleted that, and then finally settled for [Ok.]
Smiling, Shizuo sat back into the couch. He would like having an official birthday buddy.
part three; polaroids
Click-CHHH!
Shizuo awoke to a weight on his stomach and a flash behind his eyelids. Grunting at the sudden disturbance, he opened one eye to the blurry image of his boyfriend sitting on top of him, rapidly waving something between his fingers.
“Can’t wait to see how that one turns out,” said Izaya with too much pep than the morning should allow a person.
Stretching from his toes to his fingertips reached over his head, Shizuo rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes. “What time is it...?” he asked groggily.
“Late enough,” was all Izaya said before planting a quick peck on the corner of Shizuo’s mouth. With that, he hastily climbed off Shizuo - not without accidentally kneeing Shizuo in the ribs - and scurried to the kitchen. His wool socks slid silently against the floor, and Shizuo heard him making noise in the kitchen.
Groaning with another lazy stretch, Shizuo rubbed his belly languidly as his looked over at the clock. 10:34am. Shizuo supposed ‘late enough’ was the only way to describe that time of morning. He probably could have kept sleeping until the afternoon, exhausted by the rather intense and… recreational birthday present that Izaya had initiated at exactly midnight last night, the first moments of January 28th.
There was the trace of a sweet aroma in the air. Cake? No. Pancakes with chocolate chips? With a reluctant sigh, Shizuo crawled out from the beneath the blankets, swinging his legs around the edge of the bed. His feet found and slipped into his slippers with rehearsed ease. Shuffling through the hallway, his jaw was wide open and one hand was trailing a line from the thin hair over his sweatpants to the middle of his abdomen while the other hand was rubbing the back of his neck. When Shizuo rounded the corner to the kitchen like this, he was greeted with another harsh flash.
Click-CHHH!
He winced. “Why.”
After shaking the new picture thoroughly, Izaya stuck a magnet over it on the fridge. The one he took of Shizuo sleeping was already up there, fully developed. “We need to document Shizu-chan’s special day. That’s what people do.”
“People use digital cameras,” Shizuo said, “because it is 2015.” He wandered over to the stove. There were indeed chocolate chip pancakes sitting there waiting for him.
Without a care for decency, he simply picked up the nearest pair of chopsticks and began eating them out of the pan, which picked up from its handle so he could turn and face Izaya.
“Why a polaroid? It isn’t 1989, you know.”
“They’re so easy, though.” Izaya shook the latest print quickly before magneting it besides the others on the refrigerator. “You don’t have to overpay a film developer, or upload to the computer are anything. It’s just point and…”
Without warning, he reached for the hem of Shizuo’s sweatpants, pulled them forward, aimed the camera downwards, and -
Click-CHHH!
“Oi!” Shizuo hopped away. “You’re not putting that up with the others!”
“Oh yes I am.”
“If anyone comes over, we’re taking it down!”
“No way. If somebody comes over, it can be the only one we leave up there.”
Sighing, Shizuo observed the three photos of him already on their refrigerator. One of his sleeping face, one of his yawning face and happy trail, and one of his morning wood. Poor Celty, if she showed up for a “surprise” birthday visit, which she often did, she would be mentally scarred.
“Isn’t the film for those cameras super expensive or somethin’?” Shizuo asked, stuffing his mouth with more pancake.
“Not too bad,” said Izaya. He sat at the table, tinkering with the antique camera and sipping from a mug of black coffee. “I already went through an entire roll while you were still asleep.”
Shizuo rose an eyebrow. “For what?”
With an impish glint in his eyes, Izaya leered at Shizuo from over his coffee mug. He wordlessly nodded behind Shizuo, who turned to see a small gift bag he hadn’t noticed before.
Curiously, Shizuo sauntered over to its place on the counter and peeked inside. There was a store bought card but also a stack of polaroids. Ignoring the card, Shizuo pried the stack from the superfluous tissue paper that plagued the bag. They were all of Izaya…
They were all of Izaya… with less clothes on than he had shame, honestly.
Well, Shizuo could confidently say they were better than any porn magazine he’d ever picked up.
All the blood in Shizuo’s body had congregated from the neck up, and he felt like steam was coming out of his ears. His brain had been reduced to nothing but a worthless pit of lava. After staring at a few in particular for a prolonged amount of time, he stacked them back together, replaced them in the bag, and bent over the counter with his hands gripping the edges with an alarming amount of desperation.
“I wonder what kind of cake Celty will try and bake you this year…” Izaya wondered aloud casually. Perhaps he didn’t realize the severity of the situation.
Replacing the pan on the stove, Shizuo briskly walked over to Izaya and forcefully pulled out his chair from the table.
“Whoa!” Izaya nearly spilt the coffee, “Watch what you’re - !!” He had just enough time to put down the mug and grab his camera before Shizuo flung him over his shoulder and marched directly into the bedroom. Shizuo didn't mind the camera's presence; he had a feeling they would find more use for it.
Some birthdays were nice for company and nights out at restaurants. Others, more often nowadays, were much better spent never getting out of bed at all. Those were the days worth photographing.