Every year, on his birthday, John disappears for the day.

I don't know where he went, or what he did, but I can guess why he would vanish. After all, each year is the anniversary of his birth - and the anniversary of, well, The Game. Sburb. The bane of universes.

And I'm a patient guy. Oh, fine, fuckass, I'm not really that patient. Shut the fuck up, maybe I've mellowed over time. I haven't seen you, you observing morons, in eighteen years. And way back then, when we were all in trouble, when we needed help, what did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO? THAT'S RIGHT. YOU DID NOTHING. YOU LEFT US THERE TO OUR FATE. WE WERE JUST A BUNCH OF STUPID WRIGGLERS AND YOU SAT THERE ON YOUR ASS AND -

NO. Wait. This isn't about me, or you. This is about John. I can do anything for John. Even put my loathing on pause.

So John vanishes on the morning of his birthday, every year. Nobody sees him until midnight. We've tries to hold parties for him, but he refuses to show up. We've all tried to follow him, but he manages to evade us. I don't know how he does it, alright? He's acts like such a derp all the time, but he's much smarter than he lets on. He did get us all out of the game alive…well, mostly alive, but that's beside the point. I was a crappy leader, and he was, well, John. He was the 'friendleader,' whatever that's supposed to mean, and he lead. The kid was just… He was just John. Gog, what am I even saying anymore?

So he disappears and leaves us all alone on his birthday. It's strange, trying to sleep in bed without him. The sheets are cold. Normally he goes to bed early and I crawl in after him, so it's already warm.

Oh. That creaking noise - that's the front door. He's home.

Do you hear that? He's putting his keys in that stupid cup by the door that he's always trying to get me to use ("But then you'll stop losing them! You're always complaining about it. I'm just trying to help, jeez."). That's the third stair; it squeaks ("What do you mean, replace it? It's not a home without a creaky floorboard or two!"). There's a quiet rustle of clothing as he changes, and then he's slipping into his side of the bed as quietly as possible.

You see, I've always let him believe I went to sleep without him, on these nights, but I'm sick of the facade, so I roll over to face him. "John."

"Oh! Ha ha! I didn't mean to wake you up! Go back to sleep." His hair's a mess and he sounds tired, but relieved. I can't help but wonder where he's been all day - what (who? NO, SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP) he's been doing - that would wear him out like this.

"John. Stop being an idiot for about five seconds, will you?" I bite back a sigh; now is not the time. "Why in the world would I be asleep?"

"Huh?" His eyes widen.

OR maybe now is the time for exasperated sighs. "Honestly, Egderp. Do you remember how long it took for you to get me to sleep on a stupid earth mattress and not in my -"

"Coon of slime?" He makes a face. "Yeah, why?"

"And what makes you think that I would ever sleep on one of these things if you weren't in it?"

"I dunno. You've done it before -"

"Have I?"

"Well, yeah…"

"When?"

"Well…"

"Maybe on your birthday? When you weren't here?"

"Urgh! Karkat!" He frowns and narrows his eyes. "I've already said that I'm not avoiding you guys. Sometimes a man just needs his space, y'know?"

"Once a year? Every year? For almost twenty-four hours?"

"Well, maybe, yeah!"

I breathe in, out, count to ten. I will not yell about this. I will not. "Did you ever think that maybe you doing this offends me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"It is kind of our anniversary." I shift so that I'm lying on my back, staring at the ceiling. "We didn't really meet until to- er, yesterday."

"Oh."

Silence. All I can hear is our breathing and the insects chirping outside. It took me a long time to get used to them; they sounded so strange, at first. Than again, everything about this world was strange in the beginning.

"But I thought - I thought that trolls didn't have…anniversaries."

"We don't."

"…Then?"

"Trolls don't. Humans do. I thought," I took a deep breath. I will not get angry. I will not change the subject, because this is John and I want to know where he goes on these days, and I need to put him off guard somehow, because, well…

I want to go with him.

"I thought that, being the hopeless romantic derpface that you are, you would cling to the tradition. I guess…I was wrong." This is stupid. I am stupid for doing this. I should just go to sleep. "It's just that you disappear on these days and I wo-." Now I'm really being stupid. Present Karkat, you are the most stupid - "Nevermind." I roll over again, this time facing away from John. I must be more tired than I thought, to nearly stay something so dumb.

John shifts his weight. The next thing I know, he's slung his arm around my waist and his face is pressed in between my shoulder blades. "Sorry," his voice is quiet and muffled and generally hard to hear, but I can feel his lips moving on my back as he speaks, which is good enough for me. "I didn't think…"

"You never think, moron. That's my job."

He laughs halfheartedly. "Maybe… next year, if you want… you could, um, come with me?"

Yes. Yes, I am smiling, you dipshits. Why are you still here, anyway? Just fuck off, already!

I reach for where his hand curls against my 'belly,' as you stupid humans call it, and slip my fingers between his. " Yeah, maybe. That would…be nice."