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Today was Souma’s sixth birthday.
Takumi held a little messenger bag in his hands and proceeded to carefully put the rectangular plastic container he got from under one of the cupboards inside, careful not to shake the contents too much. The blonde smiles to himself, as he sneaks his way out of his bedroom window and begins the familiar streak of climbing down the mango tree that was nearer Isami’s window, but whatever; he grabs onto the nearest branch and carefully climbs down, mindful of the bag that was slung over his little frame.
He reaches the earth, and in no time, makes his way towards the backyard of the Yukihira family. It was dark, but the moon always shone the brightest during Souma’s birthday, so Takumi wasn’t surprised when he instantly catches the familiar shade of red that he has been accustomed to seeing every single day.
Souma was sitting under the street lamp, the faint light occasionally flickering in the moonlight. The Yukihira household wasn’t all that large, a little smaller compared to the Aldini’s, but that’s because it was only Souma and Uncle Jouichirou who lives there, while in comparison, there were a lot of Takumi’s extended family who resides with them.
Takumi stage-whispers to his best friend, and Souma instantly lights up once he sees the blonde. Takumi makes his way towards the younger boy and greets him enthusiastically, sitting down beside him on the cool pavement.
“What did you make me this year, Takumi?” Souma asks, fidgeting in excitement where he was seated, and Takumi grins at that. “Here, take a look at it yourself, birthday boy.” Takumi says, handing the little container to the redhead, who accepts it with the same grace of a newly born fawn.
Souma opens the container, and inside, there were freshly baked cookies that had hazelnuts in them. Souma takes one, and he notes that they were still fairly warm. He takes a bite into the treat, and his eyes glisten in awe and wonder. He looks at Takumi and the blonde raises an eyebrow in question, “Is it good?” He asks.
Souma nods, mouth full of the treat, and offers some to Takumi. Takumi accepts, and together, they eat the treats until late into the night. They look at the stars and they talk about the other children in the neighborhood, Takumi sings Souma the birthday song everyone knows, and Souma hugs him in gratitude.
When all’s been said and done, Takumi watches as Souma makes his way into his home, waving goodbye.
Takumi waves back, takes his messenger bag with him, and makes his own way back.
*
Today was Souma’s tenth birthday.
Takumi arrived a little bit earlier this time around. He had been working on his gift to the redhead for the past three hours and once he finished he just couldn’t wait anymore, and he dashed out of the house and made his way towards the street lamp, that was now dysfunctional and does not serve its purpose at all, to wait for Souma.
He sits on the cool pavement, balancing the cake pan on his lap and methodically adjusting the foil when he hears Souma emerge from his yard. “Takumi!” He screeches, and Takumi winces at the loud voice that almost seemed to echo in the quiet of the evening.
It would’ve mattered two years ago, but somewhere down the line their families had found out that they were sneaking out around these hours of the night during Souma’s birthday, and had not batted an eyelash at the arrangement. Everyone and their neighbors know that the two were inseparable, Takumi always tagging along the younger boy wherever Souma goes, and Souma doesn’t mind, had always treated Takumi dearly throughout the years.
“Pipe down, Souma. You’ll wake everyone up.” Takumi hisses chidingly, and Souma scratches the nape of his neck while lopsidedly grinning, making his way towards the broken street lamp and sitting beside the blonde. “What did you make this year?” He asks.
“Open it.” Takumi instructs, placing the pan on Souma’s lap while he procures two forks from his messenger bag. Souma does as instructed, and he smiles widely. “It’s a cake!” He cheers, and proceeds to chuckle at the messy message Takumi tried to incorporate with some of the leftover icing he made.
“It was supposed to say ‘Happy Birthday’ but I ran out of icing.” Takumi explains, handing Souma one of the forks. The redhead accepts the offered utensil, eyeing the ‘Happy Bir’ that was on the cake and proceeds to eat it.
Takumi lets him take the first bite, had always let Souma do so and tell him how did the blonde fare, and to Takumi’s delight, Souma gives him a smile and sticks his hand out in the universal sign of ‘Good job’, and Takumi smiles back.
And so they stay like that, just like every year, eating happily and contentedly, talking about everything and nothing at all, humming unfamiliar tones and counting the stars. There was one point where Souma had some icing at the side of his lip, and Takumi laughs at that, gains immense pleasure looking at his sloppy best friend, admiring how his hair looks soft to the touch and how his eyes glistens in the moonlight, the golden hues that had some greens and blues swirling in them mesmerizing the blonde and taking his breath away.
Then just like that, Takumi’s laughter fades away, and his heart was pounding hard against his chest, and he feels his face heat up the longer he stares at the icing stuck on Souma’s lip. His silence catches Souma’s attention, and the redhead cocks his head at Takumi, causing his hair to sweep to the right, falling just short over his dandelion eyes, and Takumi swears he feels his chest clench at the sight.
“O – Oh, you’ve got something here,” Takumi says, putting a finger against his own lip to indicate where Souma had to wipe. Souma does just that, give his thanks to Takumi, and the blonde shook his head and blinked his eyes hurriedly, trying to push away any thought concerning his newly-discovered feelings for his best friend out of his mind. He succeeded for the most part, until they had finished most of the cake and he had told Souma to take it and just return the pan anytime, says goodbye and waits till Souma was inside his home before Takumi makes his way towards the backdoor of his.
Once he was back inside his room, he lets his mind wander, and the reality of his feelings for his best friend comes crashing down on him; he had expected it to hurt, to be a pressure, an unbearable weight he can’t carry, but in all honesty it just felt… right.
*
Today was Souma’s seventeenth birthday.
This year, Takumi had invited some of their friends over to Souma’s backyard to celebrate. He had set up a table and brought out some paper plates and disposable cups, and everything. There weren’t a lot that would be attending, though; just a few of their neighborhood buddies that had some extra time in their hands.
Takumi sees Souma approach him, and Takumi has to pause and get himself together for a minute. Puberty had been very nice to Souma, and the redhead had grown up to be a tall man (taller than Takumi, to which Souma would constantly remind him every chance he gets), with wild hair and a muscular frame that comes and had been honed through all the street volleyball he plays.
“Hi, birthday boy.” Takumi greets, settling a couple bottle of beers down on the table which Souma eyes warily. “You know, Takumi, you’re the only one who’s going to be able to drink those legally.” Souma states, taking one bottle and shaking it lightly for emphasis. Takumi laughs, getting a bottle opener from his back pocket and opening up the bottle Souma was holding and another one for him.
Souma smirks, and Takumi feels his heart skip a beat, offering a grin of his own as they clink their bottles together before taking a sip. Takumi gulps the liquid twice, while Souma sputters and chokes on his first.
“This doesn’t taste good, Takumi.” He states, and Takumi just laughs as he smacks the redhead’s back to help with the coughs. “You better make up for this.” Souma threatens when the hacking has finally subsided; straightening up to set the beer bottle down on the table again as he greets their friends who had already started to arrive.
They celebrate for a few hours, drinking and gossiping about the elementary moms who always seemed to find their way in front of Takumi and Souma’s homes and gawks at Uncle Jouichirou. They eat the food that Souma’s father made for them, and someone also brought some chips to snack on so they ate that. One of their childhood friends stuck a candle on a pile of dirt and initiated a round of singing Happy Birthday to a laughing Souma, and Takumi takes it all in.
The blonde would never get tired of his best friend’s laughter. He dreams of it in his sleep, and thinks of it when he’s bored. It’s something that he’s been doing for quite some time now, and he had long given up on the idea of Souma doing the same to him during the redhead’s spare time. Takumi knows Souma like the back of his hand, and he smiles sadly every time his mind wanders to his unrequited love for him.
Well, he’s already got the bestest friend in the world, he can’t have everything he wants.
That night, when the party was done and everyone had already gone home after helping them clean up, Takumi shows up in Souma’s bedroom with his signature messenger bag.
“I come beating gifts!” He says, and Souma chuckles as he sits on the floor with Takumi. “What did you bring?” He asks, and Takumi’s eyes has a teasing glint to them as he presents a container of fried chicken wings. “Ta – da!”
Souma raises an eyebrow, amused, as he takes a piece and slowly brings it to his mouth while observing Takumi’s reactions. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.” The redhead murmurs, and Takumi cackles at the statement. “Whatever are you talking about, dear friend?” He says.
Souma takes a bite, chews for a few seconds, before he was up on his feet and heading for the dining room to get some milk like he was on fire. “Takumi! You know I don’t do well with spicy food!” Souma screeches, and Takumi lets out a howl of laughter, following Souma downstairs. Good thing Uncle Jouichirou was at his place tonight, or he would be pissed at all the noise and racket they were making.
He was still laughing when he sees Souma gulping down a glass of milk, a bit of it dripping from the side of his mouth amidst the rush, and Takumi almost trips.
Souma eyes him from behind the glass and Takumi feels his control slipping, feels like his heart was going to burst if he doesn’t say it now, feels like it would be so easy to just say –
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he tells Souma ‘Happy birthday’, and that the spicy chicken wings were revenge for Souma’s awful peanut butter and jelly-induced oysters that he gave Takumi last week.
They watch a football game of some foreign team they weren’t familiar of and ate some of the other chicken wings that Takumi made, not spicy this time, although it took Souma one too many minutes to be convinced that they weren’t spicy, going as far as feeding it to the neighborhood cat to see if the chubby animal would find it offensive. When the cat had purred and asked for more, Souma took Takumi’s word that the chicken wings were, in fact, not spicy. Takumi falls asleep in the guest bedroom, and Souma sleeps in his.
By the time he wakes up, he sees Souma lying down next to him, their bodies so close yet so far. Takumi thinks nothing of it, shrugging it off to Souma having a nightmare or something like that, and he closes his eyes again, inching just a little bit closer to the redhead lying beside him, close enough for their knees to touch.
Takumi takes this memory to heart, keeps it locked away amongst other numerous things concerning Yukihira Souma, and thanks the heavens for it. He hopes for more, but knows that it was very unlikely.
But still, he hopes.
*
Today was Souma’s twenty-second birthday.
Takumi had not seen the redhead in three years since Souma had gone to the city for college. He was accepted into an internationally known university on a volleyball scholarship, and Takumi remembers how his best friend had cried the day he had to leave, begging Takumi to come with him.
Takumi had hugged Souma tightly, flustered at the emotional teen, and feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment as he pats the redhead’s back in what he assumed was a comforting gesture. Souma had promised him to keep up their ritual during his birthdays, but their schedules never matched up.
They frequently messaged each other, and had called at least thrice a day, talking about anything and everything at the same time, and Takumi can’t help but feel relieved at that. Truth be told, he had been a bit worried that the distance would affect their friendship, but of course, Souma’s determination has not ceased to amaze him.
The redhead makes it his duty to always call Takumi before a match, right after, or even during breaks. Had always told Takumi to come to one of his games but because of the blonde’s work he just couldn’t. Souma had always told him it was okay, that he understands Takumi wouldn’t always be there during games like he had when they were still in high school, had always ended the call with a ‘There’s still a next time!’ or a ‘We’ll see what happens.’, and Takumi feels the feelings that were still stuck inside him for so long bubble up.
Today was Souma’s birthday, and just like every year, even though the birthday boy wasn’t there, he would make something and bring it to the street lamp at the back of the Yukihira household.
He was there tonight, as always, with a small pan of cake on his lap that was still fresh out of the oven. He would call Souma to tell him happy birthday and catch up in what had happened in their lives since the last time they talked, which was, what? Three hours ago? And Souma would tell him thank you and they would talk till Souma falls asleep with his phone.
Takumi was planning on doing the same thing this year, holding his phone as he starts to eat the cake with a fork on his other hand, but to his confusion the call goes right to voice mail. That rarely ever happened before, usually, Souma would be all over his phone by now and waiting for Takumi to call. Maybe he was in the bathroom? He consoles himself, knowing full well that the redhead brought his phone everywhere he went, but maybe he forgot just this once.
He tries again; worry starting to bubble up inside him, listening to the ringing of the phone.
“Hello?” Takumi hears Souma from the other side. “Takumi?”
“Yeah, I – it’s the one and only.” Takumi sighs, sagging in relief as he closes his eyes and continues to listen to the voice of his best friend from his phone. He misses Souma’s voice, the unadulterated version that wasn’t quirked by the technology they use today, but he can take what he gets, he’s learned it the hard way that you have to appreciate the stuff you have now.
“Sorry, I’m a little busy. Can we talk later?” Souma says.
Takumi feels his stomach drop.
“O – Oh. Okay.” Takumi replies, hesitant. He was going to say goodbye but the line was already dead.
He feels the worry come over him full force, this time. He had always envisioned how they would fall apart, drift away from each other, and lose their friendship. Takumi had always thought about it late at night, or when it was three in the morning and he just can’t fall asleep for some reason, but this time it’s really happening. Takumi feels his breathing quicken, and a prickling sensation from behind his eyes, he tries to calm himself down but he can’t. He focuses on the cake on his lap, on the perfectly neat ‘Happy Birthday’ he had made, because he had made sure to make enough icing this time, and he stares at it.
Memories of Souma flood his mind, and he feels the wetness on his cheeks. He sits there, below the now-fully-functional street lamp because some of the citizens had been protesting about it to the mayor for quite some time now, and it was finally fixed around last year. He feels a sob wrack through his body, and he clenches the fork in his hand, angrily stabbing the cake and continuing to eat it.
“Hey, that’s not very nice.” A painfully familiar voice says. Takumi’s head whips around to face Souma who was walking towards him, breathing heavily as if he’s been running, and he drops down in front of Takumi to take the fork and pan of cake, taking a taste of his own. “You never eat before me, Takumi. I have to taste it first.” Souma says, and Takumi frantically wipes away his tears although the redhead had already seen it.
“Souma! H – how? Why?” He manages to get out, and Souma mumbles around the food in his mouth, “Took the last train here. Wanted to see my best friend.”
Takumi feels his heart constrict at that, it was so unfair, how Souma could get away with saying stuff like that and act like it was nothing. Probably because that’s just how it was; nothing. “This tastes very good, Takumi. Better than the previous one.” Souma compliments him with a smile, and just like that Takumi’s annoyance fades away like it had never been there before.
Takumi huffs, feeling his cheeks heat up, he was going to say something back when suddenly there were lips on his that were kissing him firmly, and he feels Souma’s tongue lap the side of his mouth before pulling away.
“Sorry, you had something at the side of your lip, icing, I think.” Souma says, and Takumi looks at him wide eyed.
“How long?” Takumi asks, barely above a whisper, as he feels fresh tears well up in his eyes. Souma look at him, and Takumi revels in the way those eyes look at him the way Takumi’s cerulean ones had always looked at Souma. “Too long.” Souma replies, and Takumi’s kissing him again.
Takumi’s heart was beating wildly against his ribs, and his hand finds its way to Souma’s chest, feeling the erratic heartbeat there. Souma whines into the kiss, and Takumi feels himself smile as tears start to run down his face. Souma pulls away, and somehow the blonde had ended up on the redhead’s lap with Souma’s arms around his waist. “Damn it, stop crying!” Souma pleads, laughing, and Takumi punches him playfully on the shoulder.
“Shut up, asshole.”
“You weren’t planning on telling me?” Souma whispers against his lips, and Takumi’s eyes widen before shaking his head. “Who told you?” Takumi had to ask. Souma nuzzles his cheek, trying to remove the tracks that his tears had left behind. “Dad.”
“I knew I can’t trust him.” Takumi whispers back, tangling his fingers into the soft strands of Souma’s hair. The redhead angles his head properly so that he was pressing up against the hand and, he looks at Takumi, cerulean ocean eyes meeting golden sunshine, and Takumi smiles.
“Happy Birthday.” Takumi says, and Souma leans in for another kiss, but Takumi was startled by the light bulb of the street lamp suddenly exploding, sending little sparks of electricity raining down, and Takumi screeches.
“Holy crap!” Souma screams and Takumi laughs at them.
“Stop laughing!” Souma adds, still screaming even though they were literally sitting together. “It’s not funny!” Souma pleads. But his screams fall on deaf ears as Takumi continues to chuckle, “I can’t help it,” He breathes out. Souma raises an eyebrow in question as he clutches on tighter to the trembling blonde.
“I’m just really happy right now.” Takumi finishes, and Souma smiles fondly at him.
Takumi takes a moment to appreciate how Souma’s skin feel beneath his own, how close they were that their almost sharing the same breath, and how when he kisses him he tastes faintly of the vanilla Takumi added into the birthday cake.
He appreciates the way Souma looks at him, and at how his eyes catches in the moonlight.
The moon had always shone the brightest during Souma’s birthdays.