Six.

Fubuki Shirou, proudly six years old, smiled over his birthday cake, while friends(mostly those from his soccer team at school) and family sang the birthday song. Fubuki Atsuya, his younger brother, was only four as of yet-not that that stopped his voice from being the loudest by far.

Seven.

Shirou grinned as his brother beat everyone at game after game-Atsuya was truly one for party games. Especially since most of them involved soccer in some way. The seven-year-old giggled: he knew why Atsuya was excited, of course(not that it took him being excited to be this competitive): they had their first official match together in two days. The first match with Shirou as captain, and Atsuya as a full-fledged member of the Hakuren youth football team. Needless tto say, neither brother thought about anything else the entire day.

Eight.

Fubuki Shirou smiled wanely, the painful grin illuminated by eight candles. December 22 was another grey day for Fubuki Shirou. It wasn't special anymore. Not to him anyway. Not while he wore the scarf his brother was supposed to wear. Not while he bore a weight no eight year old should have to bear. But he knew Ponko had bought a cake. He knew Seiya had handmade him a special sweater for a present. He knew -- had bought his fabourite hot chocolate to school in his father's thermos. He knew that they wanted to make him happy.

He just couldn't bring himself to care.

So he smiled.

Nine.

Rumours flew around Hakuren-Fubuki Shirou hadn't come to school at all today. And today was no ordinary day either. It was two days before his life had been destroyed in a cascading wall of snow. But today, Shirou didn't bother himself with what the others-or the councilor-would think. Atsuya said it didn't matter-so it didn't.

And anyway, isn't your birthday a day to spend with family?

Ten.

Shirou eagerly lit the single candle on a chocolate cupcake with blue icing. He took a deep breath to blow it out-

Hey, wait!

Huh? What would Atsuya want now?

You didn't nake a wish, dummy!

What?

You're supppsed to make a wish first!

Thats...a bit babyish, isn't it?

But you wish for anything on your birthday! Good luck, no homework, winning our next match-

Alright, alright. Shirou would wish for...a sunny day! He blew the candle out, and promptly took a bite out of the cupcake, feeling Atsuya roll his eyes.

A sunny day? But that's so lame!

A sunny day when I'll be able to play soccer with you, silly!

There was an awed silence from his little brother. Shirou stifled a chuckle, before Atsuya excitedly chirped a response:

You're the best, Aniki! Can I have some cake?

Eleven.

Why did you give him a sweet too?

Atsuya, for the fourth time-he's still our friend!

But he pushed you into the snow last week!

Because YOU hurt him when you charged right past while practicing that day-

He should have gotten out of my way!

Atsuya, be reasonable for once-!

Shirou felt his limbs grow numb, and his mind slip-as if he was watching a movie instead of being in control of his own body-because Atsuya was in control of it.

This was a stupid idea!

The bag of sweets Shirou had bought for his classmates fell to the floor.

I'm going to the football field.

The ten-year-old huddled inside his own mind, closed his eyes and let go completely.

Okay.

Twelve.

Shirou stumbled over pebbles in the darkness of streets he knew he should remember. But there's a reason why they call it 'blind' panic. The twelve year old heard the gang behind him curse, as they struggled past the same obstacles.

He had to get away from them...he couldn't hold Atsuya back and run at the same time for much longer. Why did he think taking a walk at the dead of night was a good idea? Why-?

He tripped-immediately hearing footsteps coming omniously closer. Shirou's breath grew more and more uneven, as he struggled to to a sitting-up position and held his brother back, clutching his scarf fearfully. He had to concentrate. He had to-these people were probably drunk or something, they had no idea what they were up against-

The boy felt a bolt of pain strike his shoulder...and his control shattered completely.

Twenty minutes later, the Hokkaido ambulance department received a strange call, from a strange, shaky voice. Three men. Broken ribs. Please get here quick.

And then the line went dead.

Shirou shook violently all the way back home, despite the lack of wind, and his warm clothes.

Thirteen.

He didn't celebrate his birthday anymore. It was just another day on his calendar now, filled in with the usual: School. Homework. Test. Practice. And that was all.

Fourteen.

Fubuki Shirou's eyes passed over a special band of fluffy fabric hanging in his closet while dressing up for the day. He didn't wear the scarf anymore, but he did keep it in his closet. He smiled at the wind passing in through the window, making it flutter-for a natural-born, snow-loving Hokkaido native, Lincott Island had been one big way of the universe laughing at him to his face. He'd grown used to it, but would prefer the cold any day.

Since it was a weekend, he'd slept in and ignored the alarm-it was almost lunch time now! Shaking his head, the boy made his way to the kitchen-before hearing a gentle knock on the door.

Was he expecting someone? No, he didn't think so...

But the knocking continued.

Who could it be...? Criminals? Kidnappers? Girl scouts? Shirou slowly made his way to the door, quietly sliding the lock free, and bracing himself before opening the do-

"Happy Birthday, Fubuki!!", a chorus of voices rang in the cold air before Shirou was even done fully opening his door.

And before he could comprehend what was going on, how all of Inazuma Japan knew about his birthday, much less where he lived, Endou Mamrou shoved a cake two inches away from his face-the handwriting...only Endou's handwriting could simultaniously be that horrendous and heartwarming to look at.

"You...you all...?", Shirou tried to begin, before a throughly-excited Endou broke in.

"We found your data from the FFI's logs, and since its your birthday today, we all decided to come over and throw you a party!", he chirped, grinning widely.

"A party...for me...?"

"Yeah! We bought presents and confetti and everythi-Fubuki!", Endou's voice became concerned, "Is everything OK? Why are you crying?!"

Shirou laughed, wiping his eyes at the same time-how could he begin to explain? How could he make anyone like Endou fathom the idea of having forgotten the simple joy of having his family with him on his birthday?

For the first time in almost eight years, Fubuki Shirou was like every other boy his age: glad that it was his birthday.