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“Happy birthday.”
Mina’s birthday wishes were short and sweet as they passed each other in the empty hallway.
“Thanks, Mina!” Kafka replied, a little stunned. He was sure she had forgotten after so many years of no contact.
Then he froze, “Argh! I did it again!”
Mina tilted her head with an amused huff, eyes closed and a small smile on her lips, “I’ll let it go just this once. Since it’s a special occasion.”
“Thanks M- Captain!” he snapped to attention and saluted her.
Humming in response, she mused, “Maybe I should have scheduled more officers on base today.”
“It’ll be fine! I didn’t tell anyone my birth date, today will be kaiju free,” he thumped his chest confidently. Forgoing any birthday celebrations was a small price to pay if it meant everyone would be safe.
“You didn’t?” It was Mina’s turn to look stunned. He could understand her confusion - he used to make a big deal about birthdays, even if his own was cursed.
“I’m too old for that kind of thing now,” he deflected, giving her a smile and hoping she would buy it. The words felt hollow coming out of his mouth.
The corner of Mina’s lips thinned almost imperceptibly. “Have faith in me and celebrate. We’re well equipped for whatever happens.”
She turned away from him, and he could see the tense, strong line of her back. Her broad shoulders were firmly set against the weight of all the lives in the Third Division. Another reminder of how they’d both grown up now, and how cool she had become.
Kafka swallowed around the lump in his throat, “I’ll keep that in mind, Mina.”
The heel of Mina’s boot clacked against the floor as she turned to face him again. “50 push-ups, for addressing a superior officer by name.”
“What?! I thought you said you’d let me off today?” His melancholy vanished, replaced by utter betrayal.
Mina’s smile returned, lifting her beauty marks, “I never said that.”
Kafka dropped to his knees with a miserable grunt.
She really hadn’t said that! She’d only given him a get out of jail free card that first time. But who paid attention to such semantics anyway? Mina, apparently.
Sharp clicks disappeared around the corner as he powered through his punishment push-ups. It took him far too long to finish all fifty. Hardly anyone passed by as he struggled on the floor, they were all in the mess hall, having their lunch. Something that he really really wanted to get to soon - his stomach had started growling after only the second push-up.
Struggling up from the last one and collapsing in a puddle of his own sweat, he lay on the floor to catch his breath. He sorely needed to kick his habit of calling Mina by her first name. He wasn’t sure he would survive otherwise.
Another loud rumble had him peeling himself up off the floor with a resigned sigh, and he staggered his way to the mess hall. Lunch was supposed to be curry rice, but with all the time he had wasted doing push-ups, he probably wouldn’t have the chance to enjoy it.
The mess hall was crowded when he pushed the door open and stepped inside, dodging an officer from another squad as she zipped past with a tray full of food. A waving arm caught his eye. Reno’s, his mouth moving as he tried to call out to him over the din and flapping a hand to catch his attention. Looking left and right for more speeding officers, he carefully made a beeline for the table.
“Senpai,” he could finally hear the kid over the chatter as he got closer to the table.
Everyone from their squad was gathered there around the long table, framing it on squeaky plastic seats.
Pulling out a chair, he gave the table another once over, “This is rare! What’s the occasion?” It was hard to find enough space to fit all of them during meal times. Getting a whole table for the squad must have taken some dedicated coordination.
Reno exchanged a look with Kikoru, and he nodded.
“I heard from Tokuda-san that it’s your birthday today,” Reno started. “We wanted to-”
“Stop!” Kafka lunged over the table and slapped a hand over the kid’s mouth. He surveyed the mess hall nervously, as if a kaiju was about to burst in through the roof. With his curse, it just might happen.
When nothing happened, he let his shoulders fall and heaved a sigh of relief. Letting go of Reno’s face, he tried for a smile, “No celebrations, I’m cursed.”
“Cursed, senpai?” Reno’s eyes were wide with curiosity.
“Every time someone celebrates my birthday, kaiju attack,” Kafka explained, leaning in close to his squad mates like it was some grand secret. “It’s a curse.”
“Woah, seriously?” Iharu was leaning forward too, fingers gripping the edge of the table.
“There’s no such thing as curses,” Aoi declared, expression grim. Then again, it was always grim. Kafka wanted to believe in that, except he had experience backing him up on this.
Straightening up, he crossed his arms over his chest, “It’s true! That’s why I stopped celebrating a long time ago.”
That, and he no longer had anyone to celebrate it with. But that was besides the point.
“Hibino Kafka, you believe in this kind of stuff?” a teasing smile was curling its way across Kikoru’s face.
“Hey, I’m being very serious, you know?” he could feel himself starting to pout but he couldn’t stop himself. All those years channel surfing alone in the dark on his birthday, slurping instant noodles in his dingy apartment like it was just another day - that couldn’t have been for nothing.
“We’re part of the Defence Force now, senpai. Whatever it is, we can face it,” Reno assured, and gestured to a small box on the table.
Minase took that as her cue to slide it over, the top printed with the logo of a nearby bakery. She popped the lid open, revealing a single slice inside. Kafka cast about for an escape route as she withdrew a candle from the little plastic packet on the side, stuck it into the cake, and lit it.
And then. The kaiju alarm rang.
“I told you!” Kafka wailed, as they jumped into action, sprinting to get into their suits and deploy.
The cake was left forgotten on the table.
By the time they returned, night had fallen. The cake had attracted an army of ants and was binned by the mess hall staff.
“It’s fine, really!” he told Reno when the kid tried to apologise.
Despite knowing that this was inevitable, the ache next to his heart was difficult to ignore. Not only was it a waste of perfectly good cake, it was the first time in a long while that someone had gone out of their way for him. Even if it was unlikely, he had wanted to savour that little slice they had gotten for him.
“We’ll have a proper one next year,” the kid promised.
Kafka couldn’t help the wry smile from forming, “Like I said, I’m cursed.”
“I don’t believe that, senpai!” Reno forged onward, eyes blazing with determination. “You deserve to have a proper celebration.”
The next year, Kafka found himself at Ariake base with the First Division.
“Here,” Narumi threw a controller into his chest the moment he stepped into the dimly lit room.
“What’s this?” he turned the controller over in his hands. One of those newer models, sleek and white and heavy in his hands. It stirred some nostalgia in him, for his own game console. Smashed up long ago in a kaiju attack. The ones that came after it were just not the same.
Narumi jabbed a finger at him, “This is your training today.” Then he scooted to the side to make room for Kafka, “Get over here.”
Hesitantly, Kafka walked further into the room, stepping past empty Yamazon boxes and piles of dirty laundry. The room was somehow even worse than his own bachelor pad.
It took some time to get settled in the empty space beside Narumi’s blanketed form but once he was there, they fell into an easy rhythm. For several moments only furious button taps and the game’s background music filled the silence.
Narumi was the first to break their comfortable silence, “Heard it was your birthday. Happy birthday.”
Kafka’s fingers paused over the controller, and his character idled on screen. He didn’t know how Narumi knew when his birthday was. “Uh, huh? Yeah?” he blurted intelligently.
“Ashiro told me,” Narumi jabbed at the buttons on his own controller with more force than necessary. “Said to pass on her regards, or whatever.”
Narumi set his own controller down and rummaged around in one of the many Yamazon boxes that littered the room. Then, he made a noise in the back of his throat and sat back on his haunches. Something hit Kafka in the chest again, this time it was big and angular. “Didn’t have time to get you a present. You can have that.”
Oh no.
The kaiju alarm went off.
At least this time when they returned, he got to keep the model kit Narumi had gifted him.
Kafka was back with the Third Division again, after the final battle with No.9. Casualties had been kept at a minimum, all his friends were still alive, and he was allowed to stay and keep fighting with the Defence Force. He couldn’t have been happier.
But another crisis was looming on the horizon. His birthday.
His former squad mates were planning something. It was hard not to notice the hushed talks and secretive looks thrown his way when they thought he wasn’t looking. With his birthday around the corner, he was almost completely certain they were putting together a celebration for him again. In the days leading up to it, it was all he could see. Haruichi excusing himself to take mysterious calls, Aoi barring him from opening one of the shared lockers, and Minase meeting with the mess hall staff. She had looked away quickly and covered her face with her hand when she noticed him watching. Laughed and waved her arms sheepishly when he cocked an eyebrow and didn’t turn away.
The days crept closer and his old squad got even more secretive and on edge. Until it arrived. D-day.
All eyes were on the clock that morning during training. Waiting and anticipating their release. The moment Hoshina called for a stop to break for lunch, the mounting tension ballooning to the ceiling washed out like a retreating wave.
They exchanged a few glances, and Kikoru approached him. She looked up at him with a flush on her cheeks, her usual stubborn gaze set on him.
“Hibino Kafka!” she started.
Then the kaiju alarm rang.
“What?! I haven’t said anything yet!” Kikoru yelled at the alarm screaming in the corner. As if reasoning with it would get it to stop.
“Don’t think you can run away from this!” she threatened as they dashed for their suits.
“I keep telling you guys,” he let out a sigh as they turned a corner. “I’m cursed!”
“Shut up!” Kikoru dismissed sharply, teeth grinding together. “We’re gonna do this even if it kills us!”
Her words were harsh but they warmed the part of him that shrivelled up every time his birthday passed without fanfare, without acknowledgement. He felt bad that they were going to such lengths for him, but at the same time, it made him happy. That they were going to such lengths for him . Of all people. Bringing his hand to his face, he subtly thumbed away the moisture that was starting to fill the corners of his eyes.
As they clambered into the transport vehicle, Okonogi gave them the details from the operations room. “A swarm of hornet kaiju have been spotted in the nearby shopping district after emerging from underground.”
The transport vehicle barely took a few turns before arriving on the scene. Streets torn up, and giant holes punched upward through the pavement like craters. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the usually bustling shopping street. Worst of all, mega-sized insects hung in the air like a cloud, their buzzing a deafening cacophony. Suddenly, the space felt far too small.
A hush fell over his fellow officers.
“Isn’t that…?” Haruichi started. “Ah, this is kind of bad.”
None of his old squad mates were looking at the huge mass of hornets. They were all focused on the smashed remains of one of the shops. The sign over the door had long since fallen, but judging by the billboards, it was a bakery of some kind.
Suddenly, Igarashi let out a loud yell. “Shit, the cake!”
“Hakua-chan!” Minase exclaimed, keeping her tone low and hushed. A few others turned to level the tall girl with warning looks too as she mussed her hair and laughed boisterously.
The headset in Kafka’s ear crackled to life and Hoshina’s cheery voice filtered through. “Alright let’s wrap this up quick an’ head back. Since the kaiju attack’s already happened, we can do the celebratin’ after. Right, Mr Cursed?”
Embarrassment was starting to creep up from beneath the collar of Kafka’s suit, and he nodded firmly, even if Hoshina couldn’t see him. “R-right!”
But that was easier said than done. For each kaiju they neutralised, two more seemed to emerge from the dozens of holes in the ground. It was unclear how many of them there were, but as the fight began to drag on they started to get tired. They started taking more hits. The constant stream of yoju weren’t difficult to kill, but their sheer numbers made them overwhelming.
Then, just as they were at their most exhausted, the honju appeared. Bursting out from the ground and sending Iharu crashing through a whole row of shops. His comms were silent for several terrifying moments, but no one had the time to check on him. Not with the queen bearing down on them. So large that it blotted out the sun, abdomen pulsating in hypnotic colours and mandibles clicking together. Its vibrating wings sent large gusts of wind tearing down the street, and they had to tread carefully or risk being blown away.
Mina was quick to blast the queen to smithereens, but in seconds more yoju were spilling out of its corpse like a squirming, buzzing tsunami. Larvae and juveniles and angry full grown adults. Endless waves seemed to emerge from the mountain of mush that was once the queen, and even more continued to spill out from the fissures in the ground. The hours dragged on, and the First Division was deployed too before they could be overrun. By that point everyone on the frontlines was running on fumes. It was worth the taunts and jabs from a smug Narumi, as long as they got the backup they needed.
Finally, as the sun began to set, the flow of yoju trickled to a stop. Kafka couldn’t sense any more either, it was all clear underground and above ground. Reporting that to Okonogi, he closed his eyes and listened to her barking an affirmative and passing on the information. Familiar, reassuring. He stood in the middle of the street and took a moment to just breathe.
The moment was shattered by a flurry of activity behind him.
“The cake! Is it still in one piece?”
“I dunno, I’m checking. It’s this one, right?”
“Who stepped on it?!”
“Oh no, it’s crushed!”
His former squad was crouched in the remains of the bakery from before, huddled around a dented white box that had been pulled from the rubble. A big, black boot print sat right on top of a caved-in section of the flimsy cardboard.
There was a moment of silence as they inspected the condition of the cake inside.
“It’s… acceptable,” Aoi was the first to speak.
A whistling laugh, as Iharu shut the box, “Man, I can’t believe it survived!”
Reno dusted off the crumpled white carrier and picked it up, bringing it over to the transport vehicle. It sat carefully balanced on the kid’s thighs the short trip back to base.
When they returned, Kafka found himself filing into the mess hall with the rest of his former squad. He tried to urge them to go to medical first, but was quickly overruled and dragged along to one of the empty tables. Narumi followed too, slinking alongside their ragtag group like an out-of-place ghost. Reno set the box down, and they gathered around the crumpled white thing.
With a flourish, Iharu whipped the lid off, revealing the cake inside. It was flattened on one side, and more frosting coated the inside of the box than the surface of the cake. The cream had melted from sitting outside for too long, and the little chocolate sign had snapped in half. “PPY HDAY,” it declared in cheery red letters. One of the candles had fallen out of the plastic packaging and gotten lodged among the deflated whipped cream.
Eyes warming and throat clogging, he slid trembling fingers under the foil covered cardboard base and gingerly lifted it out of the box. The cake was banged up and imperfect, and one step shy from inedible, but it was proof that he was loved. It was the greatest gift he could have asked for.
Before he could start crying in earnest, Kikoru dumped out the remaining candles and placed the only unbroken one on a part of the cake that was mostly unscathed. Mina appeared at his side and smoothly lit the candle as he sniffed and blinked away any tears. His cheeks ached, and it took him a moment to realise he was smiling. The happiness swelling in his chest needed to come out somehow, and even with his face splitting in half, he still felt like shouting his joy from the rooftops.
“Happy birthday, Kafka,” the orange of Mina’s eyes was warm in the flickering glow of the lighter’s flame.
The rest of his family chimed in too, a warm hand on his head, a reassuring grip on his arm, and an outpouring of birthday wishes. His spirits were soaring so high he was sure he would never come down.
“Wait!” Okonogi came running in, Akira hot on her heels. “You all need medical attention!”
“It can wait,” Hoshina waved away her concern.
“No it can’t!” Akira pushed against Kafka’s shoulder as he ducked his way to the center to retrieve Narumi.
“Please take this more seriously, you're all badly injured!” Okonogi pleaded, but no one was really listening. They just moved to absorb her into the fold too.
Tough, metallic armour dug into his side and a blue glow side-eyed him as Hoshina drew closer. The vice-captain’s gloved hand slid its way up his back, coming to rest between his shoulder blades. “Why don’t ya make a wish?”
The candle light danced in front of his eyes, an unfocused glow as he thought it over. What should he wish for? He had everything he could want. Working with Mina in the Defence Force, a family he could call his own, and…
The skin along his back became heated beneath his vice-captain’s touch.
“I wish-”
A palm slammed over his mouth. “You can’t say your wishes out loud, senpai.”
Kafka nodded, and Reno let go of his jaw.
The mess hall was silent as his family watched and waited. They were all exhausted and battered, but they were all there for him.
Taking a deep breath, he blew out the lone candle with a short puff.
His life was perfect, and he wished he could hold on to this forever.
Kafka grinned around at the smattering of claps, and Haruichi plucked the cake away to cut it with a knife smuggled out from the mess hall kitchen.
As he moved to help out, an arm snaked around his shoulders, a strong grip wrenching his face back around.
“Hold on, ya forgot somethin’.”
Chapped lips pressed themselves to his in a kiss that tasted like blood and home. Sharp canines scraped against his tongue as he kissed back. Rough fingers twined themselves into his hair and tugged, and distantly, he could hear his family hooting and hollering.
Now it was truly perfect. Cursed or not, this was the best birthday ever.