Eiri gazed into the mirror then let out a soft growl. It was just another day, dammit! It was not anything worth getting worked up over, and he did not see why the idiot was making such a fuss. Sure, Eiri had been born on this day, but he had gotten over celebrating his birthday years ago. He no longer saw the point. It was just another reminder that he was getting older. Granted, he did not care about that, either, but no one liked to be reminded of his or her age. Women certainly were offended if he asked about age.
As he stared at his reflection and took in his appearance, Eiri's thoughts started to wander. There had been a time when no one had wanted much to do with him, even on his birthday. His blond hair and light-coloured eyes had ostracized him as a child, and his appearance had had a small hand in shaping him into he was now. If things had not been so bad for Eiri when he had been younger . . .
The novelist ruthlessly shoved such thoughts to the side then left the bathroom, flipping the light off on his way out. He did not give a damn about would have beens, could have beens, and should have beens. Dwelling on things he could not change did nothing. It was a futile exercise. Thanks to the teasing from his peers, though, he had become a success. Yes, women still fawned over him and his appearance. It was flattering, but only to an extent. He had proven, if only to himself, that he was not just another pretty face.
Fortunately for him, Shuichi thought so, too.