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It isn’t anything big. Reigen special-orders a cake from the café upstairs, piped with whipped cream and dotted with strawberries. Serizawa hangs up a few streamers across the apartment windows, and Teru is in charge of the invite list.
On the day of the party, Shigeo is the first to arrive. He talks to Serizawa about school while Teru joins Reigen on the balcony. At least the weather is nice; the April sunlight is warm on his face.
“I told you, they’re not coming,” Teru says, crossing his arms on the balcony railing and turning to Reigen. “I don’t even know why you told me to invite them.”
Reigen is scanning the street like they’re his own parents. “They’re coming,” he insists. Teru just rolls his eyes and turns to find Shigeo.
Tome, Ritsu, Shou, and a few of Teru’s friends from school file in a few minutes after the start of the party. Teru greets everyone and adds any gifts to a pile in their corner. Someone hooks their phone up to Teru’s Bluetooth speaker. Reigen winces at whatever shoddy rap is playing and Teru can’t help but laugh.
He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his blazer and makes his rounds. Now this is easy, talking to everyone, making sure that everyone is having a good time, even at his own party. He introduces two of his GSA friends to Tome and soon the girl is flipping open her DS, chattering about games and walkthroughs and cheats. Teru leaves them to do their thing and joins Ritsu and Shou, who have predictably sequestered themselves to a corner to silently judge everyone.
He only knows his parents have arrived when Ritsu asks, “Are those your parents?”
“Are the tall-ass blonds with blue eyes his parents? Good question, genius. Noooo, they’re actually—”
“Yeah,” Teru says, interrupting Shou’s sarcastic monologue. He hasn’t seen his parents in a while. His mother is digging for something in her purse, while his father is looking around the apartment as if he’s never seen it before. Dude probably doesn’t even remember what it looks like.
“Are you gonna say hi to them?” asks Shou.
Teru turns back to his friends. “No,” he says. “I don’t even know why Reigen wanted them here.”
“Because he’s stupid,” Ritsu says, and Shou shoves him with his elbow. Teru smirks. He can kind of agree with that one.
“Ah! They’re here,” Reigen says, walking up to their little group and clapping his hands. Ritsu rolls his eyes. “Are you ready to cut the cake?”
“Sure,” Teru says.
After he blows out candles and cake is doled out, Reigen comes up to him with a fistful of napkins in his hands and says, “How is it?”
“It’s good,” Teru says, and Reigen beams. “Thanks.”
“It’s no problem,” Reigen says. Tome walks up to him and Reigen hands her the napkins without looking at her. She walks off to join his friends. “Serizawa and I—”
“Don’t you think this is a little too much?” Teru’s mother asks.
It’s like a bomb goes off. Everything just. Stops.
Reigen’s hands freeze in mid-air. “I’m sorry, what?”
Teru shuts his eyes at the sound of Reigen’s voice—loud, clear, and confused. Out of all the things Reigen’s witnessed over the years, he’s not okay with this being one of them.
“I said, this is kind of too much, isn’t it?”
The gods aren’t listening to Teru’s pleas—his mother just repeats herself. Teru’s eyes pop open. He watches as Reigen’s brow furrows. The man glances at the streamers, the cake on the table, Teru, and then his parents.
“Like, the decorations? Or the cake? It’s not very big, I guess we could’ve gone bigger, but there’s not a lot of bakeries, and wait, you just said the cake was too big—”
Teru hears the vague sound of the younger Kageyama brother slapping a palm to his forehead.
“What’s the reason for all the celebration? We never did this for any of Teruki’s birthdays.”
Reigen pulls up that familiar buy-three-exorcisms-get-one-free kind of smile. “Well, that’s okay. You only turn sixteen once, right?"
His mother is quick to reply: “I'm just not sure why this should be celebrated.”
There’s a silence. Then Reigen laughs, a soft little exhalation of air. “Wait…you’re joking, right? Like, are you serious?” He looks around the room for confirmation that he’s not going crazy, but upon just finding the wide-eyed gazes of anxious kids, turns back to the elder Hanazawas. “It’s just a little party. I guess you can plan his next party—”
“Why would we do that?”
Even though Teru is familiar enough with their attitude to not feel any sting of disappointment, his cheeks still run hot. Other kids get embarrassed because their parents might talk or act or dress weird. But Teru’s parents just don’t give a fuck about him. And that’s normal in the privacy of their family, but in comparison to the Kageyamas, it’s shameful, and he never wants to be the target of anyone’s pity.
Teru hears Shou whisper to Ritsu, “And I thought my dad was bad.”
Ritsu snickers, and Teru’s glad somebody’s getting something out of this.
But when he turns to Shigeo, his friend is wide-eyed, pale—he looks almost sick. It’s that look he’d given Teru on that day they’d fought, the first time, that look of pity, of terror, of kindness and love.
Serizawa is standing beside him and flexing his hands. The streamers draped over the windows stop fluttering.
With the exception of Shou’s father, they have probably never encountered parents like Teru’s. And even Suzuki is somewhat removed, locked up where he belongs. The Hanazawas are a constant. They will always be in the back of Teru’s mind. Always in his life.
“I’m sorry,” Reigen says, and he truly does sound it. “But as long as Teru is okay with them, there will be birthday parties, graduation parties—when there’s the chance to celebrate, we’ll celebrate. Your son is a strong kid and a great person. A little cake and some streamers never hurt anyone.”
Teru’s parents look at each other before staring at Reigen blankly.
“You’re welcome to have some cake,” Reigen says, gesturing to the table. Serizawa steps closer to it, holding his knife over the cake, at the ready.
“I don’t think we will.”
And Teru’s seen Reigen go up against Claw, but still, it astounds him when Reigen just shrugs and turns his back to his parents. “Suit yourself. Can you cut me a piece, Serizawa-san?”
Serizawa’s wide eyes settle on Teru’s parents. Finally, he cuts the cake with sure, steady slices before nudging a piece onto Reigen’s plate.
“Thank you,” Reigen murmurs, and Teru wishes he didn’t see the pink flush on the other man’s face because yeah, that’s kinda gross.
“Kurata-chan?” someone asks, “can you show me that game you were talking about?”
And just like that, the room erupts back into conversation. Someone turns on some J-pop; the DS chimes as Tome talks over the game’s soundtrack.
“Uh, Hanazawa-kun?”
Shou’s whisper yanks Teru out of his thoughts. He blinks, finally seeing that his parents are standing in front of him, his mother’s hands curled around the handle of her purse and his father’s arms crossed over his chest.
When Teru looks at them, he always sees a reflection of himself. But as time grows on, they feel more and more like strangers.
“Happy birthday, Teruki,” his mother says. There’s more wrinkles around her eyes than Teru remembers her having.
Teru doesn’t feel angry, he doesn’t feel sad. It’s just—shit. Shit for him and for his parents, that they had a kid they can’t even make themselves pretend to want.
“Thanks,” he says. He has a feeling that he won’t be seeing them around for a while.
He’s fine with that.
His parents nod and take their leave. Teru closes his eyes and breathes in. He allows himself one moment—to mourn what never was, to anticipate what will be—and then he opens his eyes, exhales, and rejoins his party.
“Did you have fun?”
Teru is shoving wrapping paper into a garbage bag. “Yeah—”
“I’m sorry,” Reigen says.
Teru blinks and straightens. He must’ve not heard him correctly.
“What?”
“I said I’m sorry. You were right. I just”—Reigen looks down at the floor—”didn’t want you to be right, I guess. I should’ve listened.”
Teru’s mouth opens and closes. He can’t find the words, but finally: “It’s okay.” He shrugs and says, “I realized that the way they act isn’t normal. I used to think it was, but it’s not. So…I don’t blame you for not seeing it.”
Serizawa is clearing plates from the table, his head lowered, giving them an illusion of space. Reigen is toeing at the floor with his shoe. “I didn’t think people could actually be like that.”
“I know. It’s kinda messed up.”
Reigen nods, finally meeting his eyes again, jaw set in a determined line. “It’ll be better next time.”
And the fact that Reigen still wants to throw him another birthday party after what just happened? That might be the craziest part of all.
“Oh!” Reigen claps his hands together. “Serizawa and I got you a gift.”
He disappears into the kitchen and returns with a box. Teru drops the bag and takes it in his arms. The gift is wrapped in purple paper with a gold damask pattern. Teru runs his finger over the edges of the box.
“Open it,” Reigen says, and there’s no disguising the excitement in his voice.
Teru sets the gift on the floor and carefully tears off the paper.
The metal isn’t shiny anymore; there’s dings and scratches and it’s definitely seen a few homes. Still, it’s a gift, it’s his gift. A whole sewing machine, chosen just for him, selected with thought.
“It’s used,” Reigen says, as if it isn’t obvious. “But, uh…it’s from one of the expensive brands. It’s a few years old but it still works. And—”
“It’s perfect, Reigen. Thank you.”
Reigen nods. Teru feels the wetness from his eyes gather and fall onto his cheeks. He wipes it away, but it doesn’t stop, and Reigen rummages into one of his jacket pockets, handing him a handkerchief. Teru takes it, wiping over his eyes and face before he stuffs the handkerchief into his pocket.
Reigen pats him on the shoulder. His hand falls away.
They stare at the machine, which is more than that.
“It’s okay, kid,” Reigen says. Once again, he’s right. It’s okay.
Teru can’t help but crack a smile when he realizes this is the best birthday he’s had in years. Maybe this was too much for his parents, but he hopes it’s just the beginning for himself.