Warnings: None

NOTE: Please re-read chapter 18 of this story ("Happy Birthday to Me") as a refresher before reading this. Thanks.

Children of Misfortune

A non-canonical omake set shortly after the reveal of Not Quite Keiko's origin

"Happy Birthday to You"

Social visits in Yusuke's circle tended to occur in specific ways.

Keiko's place was the main hangout spot, on account of her making the best snacks and just generally not giving a shit about Yusuke spilling crap on her carpet. The second-most-visited home belonged to Kuwabara, especially when they needed to discuss supernatural junk. Everyone in Kuwabara's household knew about spirit stuff, after all, and Botan stayed in their spare room more days than less. And when they all needed to gather without Kuwabara's dad around, Yusuke's apartment was nice and private since Atsuko spent 90% of her waking hours piss-face drunk. Meanwhile, Kurama wouldn't let anyone but Keiko anywhere near his house. Secretive fox weirdness, Yusuke supposed. And Hiei didn't have a house, or if he did, he hadn't let anyone know about it, so he never, ever hosted social gatherings.

Kurama also didn't come over to visit all that often. Neither did Hiei. The pair of them mostly stopped by Keiko's place, since both of them had decided (for some fucking reason) that she was their bestie or whatever. Hiei used her for food and a place to take the occasional shower (that rank little piss-kid probably only bathed when it rained before Keiko came along), and Kurama? He didn't usually stop by Yusuke's place solo, instead requesting meetings through Keiko most of the time. Apparently he had a habit of showing up at Keiko's unannounced on occasion, but he reserved that privilege for Keiko… not that Yusuke knew why.

Truth be told, Yusuke had no fucking clue why Kurama was always hovering at Keiko's elbow, but it was clear they were close. Probably because they both had past lives and were more like adults inside than Yusuke was, and all that shit, but whatever. Yusuke had enough to think about without adding Kurama to the mix.

It still hadn't really sunk in, that Keiko—or Tex, as Yusuke often called her nowadays—had been someone else, probably from another dimension or whatever? Hardly made any fuckin' sense to Yusuke, but ever since Keiko's big secret had come out at the Dark Tournament, some of her weirder behaviors had finally begun to make sense… as much as they could, anyway, when she was so damn reluctant to talk about her past life. Annoying as fuck, but he'd just tried his best not to think too hard about any of it. No sense giving himself a headache attempting to figure her out…

His temples twinged anyway when, one day after school in early autumn, someone knocked on his door and interrupted a very intense Dragon Quest session (on the Famicon Yusuke had nicked from Keiko recently, but whatever). Yusuke paused the game at the sound and shot Kuwabara a look, one brow raised. Kuwabara just stared toward the front door with a frown, big hands frozen atop his math homework. They'd been hanging out like they usually did, Kuwabara making futile attempts to get Yusuke to study, but they hadn't invited anyone else to join.

"You expecting somebody?" Kuwabara grunted.

"Nah," said Yusuke. "Was Botan coming by tonight?"

Kuwabara's face screwed up. "What's today, the 13th?"

"Fuck if I know."

"Well, if it's the 13th, then she and Shizuru had plans. I saw a note on the calendar this morning."

Yusuke sighed. Keiko usually called before coming over, and if it wasn't Botan, then it was probably one of his mom's drunk friends, or maybe even Atsuko herself, stumbling home from the bar. She hadn't been home in a few days and was due for a reappearance. Setting his controller aside, Yusuke rolled to his feet and opened his apartment's front door, a wisecrack ready on his smart mouth.

The comment died when Yusuke saw the person standing there. A grin stole across his mouth as he leaned against the door, fingers tapping bicep when he crossed his arms.

"Yo, Kurama. This is rare," Yusuke said. "What brings you here?"

Kurama stood with hands in his pockets, feet spread, head raised with the same easy grace he'd worn since the day he and Yusuke met. The lines etched between his thin brows weren't as aesthetic, however, and neither was the frown thinning his mouth.

"Hello, Yusuke." Green eyes flickered over Yusuke's shoulder. "Kuwabara. Do either of you know where Kei is?"

Yusuke frowned while Kuwabara tensed, the way Kuwabara always did whenever people mentioned Keiko in front of him after leaving the Dark Tournament. His enormous hands clenched, and he stared at his homework on the coffee table to mumble, "Wasn't she at school?"

"I'm afraid not," Kurama said. "I called her home, as well, but she did not answer."

"It's September, right?" Yusuke asked.

Kuwabara and Kurama both looked at him in confusion, but Yusuke's gaze didn't falter. He wasn't the best at keeping up with dates (heck, he didn't know what day it was half the time) but what day had Kuwabara said it was? The 13th? Yusuke hadn't thought much about it at the time, but he wasn't stupid, and the second he heard Keiko hadn't been at school, puzzle pieces snapped together. If today was the day he suspected it was…

But Kuwabara just scoffed. "Do you seriously not know what month it is?"

Yusuke leapt across the room to cuff Kuwabara on the head. "I was just making sure, asshole!"

"Yes, Yusuke. It is September," Kurama said before a fight could break out. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I know exactly where she is. Kind of, at least." Yusuke let out a sharp laugh. "You don't need to worry about her today. Tex always gets weird on September 13."

"Weird, how?" said Kuwabara.

"Just secretive." Like always, Yusuke thought, but he didn't say that aloud. "She always goes shopping by herself and won't let me come along or anything." He raised his hands to make air-quotes. "'Treats herself' with a new book and maybe some cheese."

"Cheese?" Kurama asked, brow lifting.

"Yeah. Apparently she actually likes it—the stinky French kind."

"Can't imagine why since she's lactose intolerant," Kuwabara grumbled.

"Right?" Another of Keiko's many weird-ass habits, but whatever. Yusuke shook his head. "Anyway. The 13th is her special day for whatever reason. Calls it her 'annual mental health day.'" An exaggerated roll of his eyes followed that statement. "Every damn year she saves up her allowance all August so she can get cheese and whatever, and then she skips school to goof off, and then she always buys herself a present or two, and—oh, shit."

Despite his lack of time-sense or willingness to do his homework, it bears repeating that Yusuke was not stupid. He'd always accepted Keiko's annual September 13 plans as a natural part of her character, not giving them a second thought beyond 'gee, Keiko sure is a big old weirdo, huh?' But now that he knew more about her background, yet more puzzle pieces had suddenly clicked into place, a picture forming in Yusuke's head where previously there had been none.

Keiko didn't just do things for no reason, after all. And that meant this standing 'mental health day' of hers was probably…

Kuwabara (who had skittered away from Yusuke's vengeful fists a moment before) gingerly stepped in-range again. "What?" he said, looking at Yusuke's face through worried eyes. "What's wrong?"

"She always buys a cake today. And I always have to share it with her." Yusuke swore and tried not to punch something. "Sometimes her room smells like a fire or a candle or something before I come over to eat, but I never…"

Kurama, smart as he was, picked up on what Yusuke was laying down immediately, a subtle widening of his green eyes showing the thread of understanding pull taut. In a low voice he asked, "You don't think—?"

"I do think, actually," said Yusuke.

"What?" Kuwabara said, looking between them in frustration. "You think what?"

Yusuke took a deep breath. Swallowed. Pushed his hands through his hair and sighed.

"I think today might be Tex's birthday," he said. "Her real one."

A scant two hours later and at the request of his associates (he refused to call them 'friends'), Hiei located Meigo in a nearby park.

She sat under a willow tree near a small pond. Beneath her lay a pale pink blanket; at her side sat a basket, containers of food scattered around like fallen meteors. A shopping bag rested against the tree beside her with a crown of tissue paper spilling from the top. A book balanced across her knees while she nibbled on a cracker, eyes sharply focused on the page, mouth moving slightly as she read the words. She looked… content, perhaps. Her shoulders were as relaxed as Hiei had seen them in some time. Meigo had been tense since their return from the Dark Tournament. She hadn't been sleeping well, nightmares making her mumble and toss beneath her quilt. Hiei had spent a few nights on her floor and had seen this firsthand. She claimed nothing was wrong, however, so he didn't press, or even spare it a second thought.

If she wanted his help, she'd ask. He wouldn't waste his time worrying.

Knowing how she hated being interrupted while reading, he waited for her to close the book and reach for a container of strawberries before appearing before her, his preternatural speed carrying him to stand at the edge of her blanket in a black flash. She flinched after he appeared, reaction comically delayed by Hiei's swift standards, and pulled back her book over her shoulder like she intended to throw it at him.

"Christ almighty, what the fu—oh." The book lowered. "Hi, Hiei."

He didn't bother returning her greeting, instead barking a brusque, "Come with me."

But Meigo only rolled her eyes. "Sorry. I'm too busy to make you dinner today."

"Busy doing what?"

"Eating delicious cheese and reading a delicious book." She indicated the shopping bag at her side. "Later I'll take a bath with these special bath bombs and fall asleep in a state of blissful relaxation." Tension around her mouth belied her breezy tone, however, as she opened her book again, "I'd like to enjoy these things along, so you'll have to find me again tomorrow."

"No. You will come with me, and you will come with me now."

Meigo huffed. "Fat chance."

"The others sent me to fetch you." Ire rose; he took a quick step toward her, muddy boots staining the pink blanket. "If I fail, I'll never hear the end of it."

"So you're asking me to go for your sake?" Meigo simpered. "Awww. That's cute, Hiei."

He ground his teeth. "You're infuriating."

"And you're adorable," she said—but when he just glared, she sighed and began to gather her things, sensing he was not to be trifled with (or so Hiei could only assume; he was certain she must find him intimidating, as was his due right).

"Fine. I'll come with you." Her eyes flickered toward his face before darting away again. "What do the others want, anyway?"

Hiei shrugged.

"Vague. All right." She stood and shooed him off the picnic blanket. "Let's go."

Hiei stood a moment longer than was necessary. Just so she wouldn't think he'd listened to her. He had a reputation to maintain, especially since today, he was playing errand boy.

Although today, it was a role he was… not happy to play. Never happy. But it was a role he found acceptable, given the circumstances, and he'd play it if he had to. For her.

'For her.' He cursed himself at the thought. Since when had he gone soft?

He snuck a glance over his shoulder as they walked through the late afternoon. She moved with head bowed, eyes hooded, like she carried a great weight on her shoulders.

It was just the food she cooked for him talking, he decided. That was all.

Before going upstairs to play lookout, Kuwabara shushed everyone and told them to find their hiding spots. Yusuke just rolled his eyes, however, before trailing after Botan, who was headed toward her already chosen hiding place behind the couch in the middle of Kuwabara's living room.

"Who died and made you the party king?" Yusuke grumbled as he passed Kuwabara, a statement to which Kuwabara returned a glare. That just made Yusuke grin, though, one hand passing through his pomade-slathered hair. "Heh. And here I thought you hated Keiko these days…"

Kuwabara's eyes dropped to the floor. "I don't hate her…"

As he trudged up the stairs of his home, Kuwabara told himself that he could never hate Keiko. He hadn't even hated her right after her secret came out, nor of all the ways she'd lied and tricked him over the years since they first met as kids. He'd just been sad, and disappointed, and hurt, and those weren't the same things as hate at all. He wouldn't have thrown together this last-minute party if he'd hated her. He wouldn't have run to a bakery for a cake, or given Botan money to buy streamers, or made Yusuke go buy gifts with Kuwabara's allowance, if he actually hated Keiko. Sure, Botan and Yusuke and Kurama had all been happy to lend a hand to plan this shindig, but Kuwabara was confident he'd been the ringleader, and you didn't elect yourself the head of the party planning committee for a person you hated.

Clearly Yusuke was full of shit. The amount of effort Kuwabara put into the party, too, showed he didn't hate her, and Yusuke was a moron if he couldn't see that. Kuwabara knew exactly what kind of cake (yellow cake with chocolate frosting) to get Keiko. He knew what she'd want for presents (albums and books), and he knew what color the decorations (sunset shades) should be. (Kurama had known her favorite flower and had gotten a few bouquets of them, but that was beside the point.) When Keiko saw everything Kuwabara had planned, he had no doubt she'd be happy as hell with her birthday party.

And he wanted to make her happy, even if things between them weren't… weren't great, to put it mildly. He'd reacted badly when she dropped the reincarnation bomb. To be fair to him, the lying and stuff was pretty bad, and her secrets were huge… and she seemed to understand why he was upset, which proved (to Kuwabara, anyway) that his emotions were valid. Hell, just about everyone understood where he was coming from. But how was a guy supposed to even start trying to patch stuff up with Keiko when he'd spent so much time distancing himself from her in the first place?

He'd needed that distance. He stood by maintaining it during the past month or two. But coming back from it, crossing that gulf of negative space, wasn't easy. And if he ever did figure out how to smooth things over, would they ever go back to being friends the way they had been? Kuwabara wasn't sure. He didn't have the answers. All he knew was that it was her birthday, and that's one day no one should be mad. He could put aside his emotions for one day if it was for her.

Plus, Kurama had said something earlier, after they told Hiei to go find Keiko and bring her to Kuwabara's place. Kuwabara hadn't been able to get it out of his head since.

"I imagine she's never celebrated her birthday with anyone in this lifetime," Kurama had mused whole they hung streamers. He'd spoke offhandedly, barely above a murmur, green eyes distant and dark. "One imagines it might have been rather lonely."

Much though Kuwabara hated to admit it, Kurama seemed to understand Keiko pretty well, so Kuwabara had a sinking suspicion Kurama was right about that.

Kuwabara waited at the window in the upstairs bathroom to watch the end of the block, where he knew Hiei and Keiko would be coming around the corner any minute now. Sure, he'd told Hiei to flare his energy a few times when he got close, but Kuwabara was too nervous to twiddle his damn thumbs and just wait to sense it downstairs. It felt better to lean against the wall and watch the road, drum his fingers on his arm and try not to pace. Much better to keep lookout and not fuss with the decorations or the cake, let alone wonder if Keiko would like any of this.

Would she like it, now that he thought to wonder about it?

Oh god, what if she hated—?

Kuwabara was saved from an anxiety spiral when he saw movement at the end of the block. For a second he thought no way, that couldn't be Hiei, he should've sensed Hiei coming—but, oh yeah. Kuwabara's energy had been weird ever since they got back from the Dark Tournament. He hadn't been able to sense crap in recent days, but in the party-planning excitement, that must've slipped his mind. Cursing, he bolted from the bathroom and took the stairs two at a time until he reached the bottom, skidding into the living room on frantic feet.

"Shh, shh, she's coming, she's coming!" he yodeled as he gave the pile of presents and party décor one last, desperate look—and then he noticed Yusuke lounging on the couch, having come out from his hiding place like a punk. Scrambling for the light switch, Kuwabara commanded, "Hide, hide, hide!"

Botan's arm shot up over the back of the couch to latch onto Yusuke's collar. "You don't have to drag me!" Yusuke yelled, but she had already pulled him down on the other side and out of sight.

Kuwabara dove behind a chair while Kurama secreted himself behind the curtains at the window. In the kitchen, Kuwabara's dad and Shizuru exchanged words in low voices, only silencing when Kuwabara shushed them both. Kuwabara's heart beat so hard he could feel it in the roof of his mouth, and it felt like forever until the front door creaked open. The second he saw two shapes enter the gloomy living room, he bolted on unsteady legs to the light switch, smacking it back on so he could bellow, "SURPRISE! Happy birthday, Keiko!"

The others yelled the same thing, of course, bursting from their hiding places with a shower of confetti and the pops of party crackers wielded by Botan and Yusuke. Keiko looked utterly befuddled as bits of brightly colored paper dusted her hair and shoulders like rainbow snow; Hiei just rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, offended by the candy-hued mess. But Keiko remained frozen, unmoving, eyes wide as she took in the sunflowers on the coffee table and the pile of presents beside them, the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner on the wall, the streamers in sunset shades—and honestly, Kuwabara might've laughed had he not been so freakin' nervous. It was almost funny, the way her face morphed from shock to surprise to shock again, confusion to horror and back to confusion, expression at last landing on wide-eyed realization as the pieces fell into place.

Kuwabara knew exactly what she was thinking: They knew it was her birthday. Her real one. And they were celebrating it?

When her eyes met Kuwabara's, surprise returned. Of all the people there to celebrate, he was probably the person she expected the least to see—and that realization put a hollow pit in the bottom of his stomach.

"What the…how did you…?" Her mouth chewed on empty air before she managed to squeak a strangled, "H-how did you know?"

Kurama stepped toward her with a smile, drawing her attention away. "Simple deduction."

"You always buy a cake today. It wasn't hard to figure out why," Yusuke drawled. "Not after we figured out…"

"Your old self had to have a birthday too, right?" Kuwabara said.

"We couldn't just let you celebrate alone!" Botan chimed in.

"Indeed." Kurama dusted a bit of confetti from her shoulder; Kuwabara wasn't sure he liked the look of that casual touch, but he said nothing. "So happy birthday, Kei."

"Yeah, kid," Shizuru called from the kitchen. "Happy birthday. How old are you now, like 40 or something?"

"41," Keiko hollowly replied.

Yusuke cackled. "Tex really is a grandma!"

Keiko ignored him, instead looking over the party decorations again. "You guys, it's…" She floundered for a second, and when she spoke again, earnest sincerity radiated from every word. "This is amazing."

Botan beamed and gestured toward the kitchen. "We have cake! And I bought you cheese! But I wasn't sure which kind you liked best, so I bought six. I hope that's enough."

"And don't forget the presents!" Kuwabara said.

Botan put a hand to her forehead. "Heavens, don't forget those!"

"You don't already have the latest Megallica B-side, right?" Kuwabara said.

"And I found this lovely cream rinse that smells divine," said Botan.

"I noticed the window box by your bedroom is empty." Kurama produced a flowering potted plant from… somewhere… and handed it to Keiko. "Hopefully these are to your liking."

"And I got you—hey." Yusuke scowled at her. "Are you OK?"

In the midst of chaos, Keiko had started to cry.

Kuwabara had seen Keiko cry before. He knew the way her nose reddened, the way her brown eyes turned a shade lighter as tears magnified their color. He knew the familiar bob of her throat as she swallowed, the way her hands fisted tightly at her sides, the way her lip trembled as she tried, in vain, to hold back. Gosh, Keiko was pretty—but she was prettier when she was happy, not crying, and for a horrible moment Kuwabara wondered if the party had been a terrible idea after all.

She didn't look anyone in the eye, though, as she backpedaled toward the door, scrubbing her cheeks with her hand and forcing a hiccupping laugh. "I'm fine, I'm fine—it's just…." A wobbly smile curled her mouth, but it didn't touch her eyes. "This is a really hard day, and—I need a minute." She backed up, one hand flailing behind her for the front door, the other held up with two fingers on display. "This is great and I love all of you and it's perfect, just two seconds. Two."

And then she was gone, leaving Kuwabara and the others standing in silence in a puddle of confetti. Kurama followed after a second later, but when Kuwabara started to go with him, Kurama stopped.

Meeting Kuwabara's eye, he shook his head.

Kuwabara's steps faltered.

Much though Kuwabara hated to admit it, Kurama seemed to understand Keiko pretty well. So Kuwabara let him follow her, hanging back as the door shut in their wake.

All he could do now was hope—hope that he hadn't ruined everything, and that this gesture of friendship hadn't been for nothing after all.

Kei had taken refuge at a bus stop at the end of the block, hunched on the bench with hair fallen over her downcast eyes. She didn't look up when Kurama approached. He sat on the opposite end of the bench, just out of reach, and watched as she dug her toe against the pavement. A soft wind blew by, carrying with it the scents of water and car exhaust, gardens and sky. Kurama caught a zephyr of Kei's scent beneath it all: clean linen and sweat and apricots, simple and dry and sweet.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

Kei sighed. "No."

A long pause.

Then she said: "Yes?"

Kurama knew Kei well enough to have expected that turn. She needed time to process, so come to grips with her own emotions before moving past them so as not to act rashly or react sans due forethought. Unless she expressed herself to some degree, she would not be able to return to the party—and he had seem the flickers of hope an awe in her gaze. He knew she would want to return, in her own time, but only once her demons had been exorcised.

And Kurama was content to play the part of exorcist for her. Very few had ever showed him with that level of vulnerability before. The thought of becoming someone's confidante had… not scared him, but something close to it. It had unsettled him, perhaps, upending lifetimes' of habit and cutting through centuries' emotional armor. Demons did not make themselves vulnerable needlessly. Kei, however, had done so with him almost without question once he had learned the truth of her. She showed him a humbling amount of trust, a fact he did not take for granted.

He was the first she'd trusted in with her secrets.

He had never forgotten that.

Kurama knew to be patient. He waited in silence as her eyes—now a silvery grey, so different than the brown she'd worn when they first met—scanned the pavement in broad, restless sweeps. Her hand passed over the nape of her bronze neck, fingers toying with strands that needed trimming. She hadn't worn her star earrings today, he noticed. Hence the grey in her gaze…

"I've never had anyone to celebrate with before," she confessed after a time. "Not for my past life birthday, anyway. So this is just a little…" Kei paused, fighting for words. "It's overwhelming, that's all." A wry chuckle escaped her lips. "I'm used to being alone today."

"You never have to celebrate alone again," he said, meaning it. "Not if you don't wish it."

"Thanks. I know." She sniffed, turning her face away. "Just… this birthday is a little different than the others. I don't want to drag you down when I'm feeling sorry for myself."

She was trying to spare him the burden of her problems, he knew. She did this when she deemed a topic too heavy to share with others. But if it was too heavy for her to bear alone, he'd help shoulder the burden. Nothing she could say would upset him. The baggage of a past life was infinitely familiar to him, but she never balked from the ghosts of his past. He would not balk from the specters of hers.

Thus, Kurama pressed. "In what manner is this birthday different?" he asked, voice as gentle as the evening wind.

Kei hesitated. Eventually, though, she took a deep breath, fingers tangling in her hair a touch harder than before.

"I was born on September 13th," she said in slow, halting tones, "in the year 1990." At last she faced him, lips barely moving as she spoke. "Somewhere, in this world or another, I'm being born. Today." She glanced at her watch and huffed, head shaking. "Right now once you account for the time difference, in fact." Kei sighed and leaned back against the bus stop overhang while mopping her face. "Talk about an existential crisis."

Kurama felt inclined to agree. The occurrence of Kei's original birthday posed a series of interesting questions, to put it mildly. And for someone as reflective and anxiety-prone as Kei, it was no wonder she found herself preoccupied today—especially when faced with a party, which represented such a glaring reminder of her former birthday. There could be no running from the implications of today's birthday in particular when confronted with a party like the one that awaited her at Kuwabara's home. Kurama had to wonder if he'd feel the same way in her shoes. He didn't know his demonic birthday, however, nor had his reincarnation played with time the way Kei's seemingly had. There was something almost poetic in her crisis, though he'd never tell her so. She needed sympathy today. They could save the dissection of reality for another time.

"I see," was all he said, opting for a soothing smile when he caught her eyes. "You've come full circle, in a sense."

Kei huffed, eyes closing. "Full Jeremy Bearimy, more like it."

"What?"

Her eyes cracked, grey glimmering amid long lashes. "Nothing."

Kurama suppressed a smile. Always with the odd references to things he had no ability to understand. Since the day they'd met, Kei had posed a mystery, one that had not clarified even after the revolution of her secrets. No matter, though. She was a mystery he intended to unravel no matter how long it took. Luckily for him, Kei wasn't the reticent sort, willing to indulge his curiosity despite all she kept hidden.

"Just… I don't know what this means, or if it means anything at all." She turned to him at last, face desperate, eyes pleading. "Do I exist somewhere else right now? Does it matter?"

Much though he wanted to ease the tension in her eyes, this mystery was not one Kurama could solve on Kei's behalf. To him is certainly didn't matter. She was here, in front of him. That was the only material matter from his point of view. But Kei was nothing if not an overthinker, and no assurances from him would prevent her from worry over this. What could he say, then, to ameliorate her pain?

He could think of but one thing.

"Whatever the answer, perhaps it's best you aren't alone today," he said. "If there's one thing you've taught me, it's that friends will gladly help shoulder the burdens of those they love." He offered a smile, cool and calm, energy he hoped she'd absorb and internalize. "You need not face this existential crisis alone."

Kei looked at him for a long time.

Then, slowly… she smiled.

"Yeah. I guess you're right," she murmured. "Thank you."

"Of course."

Kurama did not know what Kei was thinking. But when she extended her hand, he took it without question.

For a time they sat in silence, hand in hand.

When it at last came time to go back indoors, he made sure she was the first to let go.

For my birthday, Hiei got me a kitchen knife. I'm relatively certain he stole it from somewhere, but he refused to say for certain. He just stabbed it into the coffee table and pointed at it with one of his more feral grins while everyone stared at him like he'd sprouted a second head.

"To make me food with," he told me, "and to slay your enemies."

Yusuke scoffed. "Edgelord."

Kuwabara, meanwhile, panicked. "Really, Hiei? You stabbed that into the coffee table?! My dad's gonna kill me!"

I couldn't help but laugh. The laughter continued when Yusuke presented his gift (the Famicon he's originally stolen from me, repackaged in one of Atsuko's discarded beer cartons). Less humorously but no less appreciated, Kurama had gotten me a potted plant, Botan and Shizuru both contributed bath products, and Kuwabara had found a Megallica B-side I was missing.

I paused over that last gift. Kuwabara had been on edge ever since my secret came out, but this proved he still remembered my record collection. He was still thoughtful, still considerate. But he avoided my eyes when I tried to thank him, instead stammering a 'happy birthday to you' and getting up to prepare a party game.

Still: This was a small step toward possible forgiveness (something I was still unconvinced I deserved), and for that I felt infinitely grateful.

That gratitude wasn't reserved just for Kuwabara. The entire party touched me on a level I wasn't sure I could properly express. It had been shocking to see what they'd prepared. I had wanted to run when I first walked through the door, 15 years of secrecy telling me this was a secret they weren't allowed to know. But my secrets were out, now, and there was little I could do to keep them locked away any longer, try though I might to keep some of them suppressed.

Did I even want to keep them locked up, I had to wonder? Was this OK? Was it OK to accept these gifts, the cake of my favorite flavor, the decor in my favorite colors and the presence of these people I loved so much? After so many years lying to them, it felt almost wrong to let them love me like this. It felt almost wrong to bask in the warmth, the kindness, the sheer act of care this party represented. I could hardly believe it as we talked and laughed the night away together. I could hardly believe that this—this sense of community, of belonging, of glowing and iridescent love—was meant for me after all I had to atone for. How could I possibly be worthy of all this?

It was so difficult to find the words to express how I felt. In the party's quiet moments, I tried to find the right things to say, the precise language of my heart to give to them—and when the party began to wind down, the only event left the cutting of the cake, at last I decided upon that language. Taking a glass of punch in hand, I rose to my feet in the confetti-strewn living room and cleared my throat.

"Could I get everyone's attention?" I asked in a voice much smaller than intended.

Everyone looked up at me, surprise and confusion writ across their faces. The back of my neck prickled, but I did not allow myself to falter.

"Thank you. Thank all of you for this," I said before my nerves could flag. "I know—I know the truth was hard for all of us to swallow. The whole reincarnation thing… anyway." I looked at the floor, unable to meet their eyes. "But, ah… you're my family." A small shrug; a quiet smile. "I'm grateful for all of you. And this is quite honestly the best birthday of my life—both of them. So thank you." I bowed from the waist, long and low, as my throat burned and turned thick. "Thank you so much."

For a moment, silence reigned. What must they think of that display? Did they feel the same way? Was this too much, too schmaltzy? Too bare, not ornate enough? Did I seem pathetic in their eyes? Did I—

A low snicker cut the quiet. I looked up. A sly grin lightened Yusuke's bright eyes, incredulous amusement curling the corner of his mouth.

Yusuke chortled and said, "Aw, man. Talk about mushy, Tex."

My cheeks flared. "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to, jackass."

"Hell yeah, you will!" he said. He swiped a handful of confetti off the floor and threw it at me in a technicolor cloud. "Now let's go eat that cake!"

And that's exactly what we did, then. We talked and laughed all night, until the clock hit midnight and it was my birthday no longer. Much to my surprise, when the party was through, I realized that after my garbled expression of thanks, I didn't think again about the nature of that day. I didn't think twice about how, somewhere out there in the world, I was born all over again—and it was all because I was too busy soaking up the love of my friends to give it a second thought.

NOTES

Happy birthday to me today!

So technically this scene could never happen in Lucky Child. They learn her secret in 1991, many months after her 1990 I-am-being-born-somewhere birthday. But I loved the themes of this idea, so I had to write it anyway. Can't really be canon, but I still hope you all enjoyed it.

Even though it's not canon, however, I did enjoy getting a window into Kuwabara's emotional state here. Gives some insight into how he might be developing in post-secret-reveal LC canon.

Another pandemic birthday today. Weird to think it's my second birthday during COVID times. Remember when we thought this would only last a few months? Tough to celebrate in quarantine, so thanks for celebrating with me today.

As a birthday gift to me, GO GET FUCKING VACCINATED IF YOU HAVEN'T YET. Don't even bother leaving a review; just get a vaccine. That's all I want from you. Don't let me have a third birthday in quarantine.

Hope you enjoyed and see you soon in Lucky Child (working on the next chapter now).