Title: spatula wishes
A/N: For BNHA Apocalypse zine! I couldn't resist doing some Big Three after an eco disaster. This was one of my favourite zines to be in, the mods were amazing with editing and helped polish this piece up so much.
Summary: Tamaki is cautious, it's hard not to be after the fall of civilization. He knows the best routes to cross the forest overrun city, the safest supplies to scavenge, and how to secure his home base from wild animals. Yet there is a price to pay for safety, and when it comes to Mirio and Nejire, he realizes that there are some risks he has to take.
…
…
…
…
Hesitantly, Tamaki stepped through the doorway. It was stupid, really, that he couldn't just walk right in. The house had been abandoned for years. In fact, he could hardly call it a house at this point. Vines creeped up the brick front, tendrils curling into the stone and through it to the house. Above him, the roof was a patchwork of holes and rotten wood. The plaster and insulation were long gone by now, leaving a skeleton of trusses. With the entire right wall collapsed, letting in light and wildlife, Tamaki wasn't certain of the structural stability of the building. It wouldn't be long now till it collapsed, like many of the houses in this neighbourhood.
Still, at some point it had been someone's home. People used to live, laugh, and cry in here. It had been a long time, but Tamaki still remembered what that meant. He might have been a child when the world ended, but his parents had raised him with manners. Even now, he wanted to ask Hello? Anyone home?
That was dangerous, though. A wild animal might hear him and while most were content to leave him alone, you could never be too careful. When the zoo had been forgotten, the animals in it found their chance to escape. Bears, lions, tigers—Japan now had a strange assortment of unnatural animals. Or, at least, Iida had claimed. The younger boy read any books he could get his hands on and his knowledge was second to none.
Forcing down his worries, Tamaki scanned the first room. There was an overturned couch, holes in it from animals trying to find a home. Glass crunched underfoot from a blown-in window. This was a living room, most likely. A stuffed doll lay nearby, button eyes falling out and covered in soot. He wondered if its owner had managed to get away. He wondered if they'd survived.
He tried not to think about it anymore. This room was clear of any food or tools and he moved on toward the kitchen. It was just as much of a mess as the first. Cupboards had been torn off their hinges and there was a gaping hole where their fridge must have been. This place had most likely been picked clean, scavenged entirely at the beginning of this disaster. Moss and dandelions sprouted on the water-logged wood and the floor was a carpet of grass. Half-heartedly, he pulled open a drawer. Inside, he saw several dusty spoons and a battered flat spoon.
Utterly useless. Tamaki closed it before yanking it open again. Staring at the flat spoon, he brushed it gently. This was familiar. His fingers curled around the wooden handle and he'd done that before. Vaguely, he remembered dragging a stool to the kitchen counter, standing on his tippy-toes as he watched his mother spread icing on a cake.
It's tasty, isn't it? She'd offered him the flat spoon, white icing covering the edges. Clean the spatula after.
A spatula. He smiled, holding it up. It was a spatula. There was no point to a spatula here, there weren't bakery shops or cakes anymore. Making a cake was a waste of resources and even if they could scrape one together, icing was next to impossible to make. It was a waste of space to take it.
Yet, despite himself, he took it. As he tucked it into his knapsack, he heard footsteps behind him. He whirled around, unsheathing his dagger from his belt for defense.
"Tamaki!" chirped a familiar voice. "You here?"
It was just Mirio. Relaxing, Tamaki sighed and sheathing his dagger. "Yeah."
"There you are!" Mirio beamed as he poked his head in the kitchen. "Find anything?"
"No." Tamaki shook his head sadly. More and more often, that was the case—entire scavenger missions went without gathering a single thing. It was a good thing they'd finally figured out farming, otherwise, he wasn't sure what they'd do. "You?"
"Nope." Mirio shrugged, still smiling brightly. "Buuutttt," he dragged out, a twinkle in his eye, "Nejire found something."
Tamaki stared at him. Rubbing his forehead, he muttered, "How does she do that?"
"I'm pretty sure she's part hound," Mirio whispered conspiratorially. "She also found some mushrooms. Could you check?"
Tamaki grimaced before nodding. Once, he hadn't inspected Nejire's finds and everyone had food poisoning for two days. Once, and never again.
-x-
"Mushrooms!" Nejire shouted energetically, waving her hands above her. Her voice echoed between the skyscrapers, drowning out the birds and other wildlife as they travelled through the city.
Tamaki shushed her, glancing around worriedly. While the journey back to their home base was safer than their trek away from it, that didn't make it absolutely safe. Wild animals could be around any corner, jaws and claws ready to tear them into two. A building might collapse, crushing them. Their path might be blocked, forcing them to take a longer route across rotting roof tiles that were one wrong step away from a bad fall.
Honestly, he didn't know how Mirio and Nejire did this on a daily basis. Tamaki only joined them once a week. He spent most of his time helping at the base. It would take him days to calm down from each mission. And yet here was Nejire, arms clasped behind her back, softly humming as they walked.
If there was one good thing about scavenging, he had to admit there was something pretty about the city. Pretty and sad. The looming towers around him were filled with broken windows, destroyed by the elements and animals. No matter where he looked, there was a plant. Trees poked their branches through buildings, their growth accelerated by the chemicals that triggered this whole apocalypse. Even though he couldn't see them, Tamaki could hear animals moving underbrush. While he could barely remember what a city used to look like, he was certain this was the exact opposite of it.
Still, even this sight wasn't tempting enough for him to do this everyday.
Mirio clapped his back, an easy smile on his face. They were always so easy for him. "It's fine. We cleared this path days ago, there's nothing waiting for us here."
Somehow, that didn't reassure Tamaki. He nodded anyways. Pushing his hair away from his face, he prayed silently to some distant deity for protection. Then again, if anyone out there listened, they wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place.
"Hey, hey." Nejire poked his shoulder, her voice muted. It still sounded far too loud, but it was something. "I found a lot today, right?" She started to tick them off with her fingers. "Mushrooms, bird eggs, that squirrel—"
"We'll feast tonight!" Mirio rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. "I wonder what Mrs. Midoriya will make with this."
Tamaki glanced to his left and right, to where Nejire was still itemizing every piece of food she'd gathered and Mirio was daydreaming about delicacies that no longer existed. He smiled. Sometimes, when it was just the three of them, it was hard not to think the future would get better. "Yeah, you did good today, Nejire."
She beamed at the praise. It was always easy to make her happy. Bouncing forward, she asked, "What about you? Find anything?"
"Uhh…" Tamaki pulled his hoodie up, his shoulders hunched as he shook his head. All those hours of searching and nothing to show for it. It was a waste of energy and supplies to send him out with them. "Nothing."
Nejire's expression softened and she bumped shoulders with him. "Next time, then! I guess I win today."
"It's not a game—" Her touch jostled his bag and from the corner of his eye, he noticed the spatula fall out.
Before he could pick it up, Mirio grabbed it. "You did find something."
Nejire peered down at it, cocking her head. "What is it?"
"It's not…" Nejire looked at him with curious eyes and Tamaki looked down, scuffing his shoe on the ground. Quietly, he mumbled, "It's a spatula."
They both had good ears. That, or they were used to him by now. Mirio held it up in the light, grinning brightly. "Ohh, I haven't seen these in ages."
Brow knitted, Nejire scratched her cheek. "Hey, hey, what do you do with it?"
"You've never seen one?" Mirio shot her a baffled look. "Seriously?"
When Nejire merely pouted in response, puffing her cheeks, Tamaki gingerly plucked the spatula out of Mirio's hands. Pointing at the wide flat side, he explained, "It's used to spread things. Like icing on a cake."
"Ohh, icing." Nejire snatched the spatula, running her fingers along the edge. Her eyes grew wide as she felt the plastic top. "Not sharp at all."
"It's not meant for cutting." Tamaki rubbed his neck when she turned to him.
"You really do know a lot about food," she praised, handing back the spatula. "That's amazing."
"Not really." He felt his ears burn from the compliment. It wasn't something he deserved. "I just helped my mom a lot when I was younger."
"Lucky." Nejire clasped her arms behind her back as she took the lead now. There was something wistful in her tone. "It must have been fun."
At times like this, Tamaki remembered just how little he knew of Nejire. Mirio had been his classmate before this happened. The second Tamaki had stepped into his kindergarten classroom, Mirio had grabbed his hands and declared instant friendship. They'd been together for so many years, they practically knew each other inside and out.
Nejire, on the other hand, suddenly appeared a few years ago and wiggled her way into their company. It was natural now, to eat, sleep, and spend time with her. Her profile as she sat in front of the fire, keeping watch, was something he was aware of intimately. Yet she'd never spoken of her past and he didn't know what the Nejire of 'before' was like, of what changes she'd gone through to reach the cheerful girl she was now. Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot.
Had she cooked with her parents? Or did she wish she had? Tamaki almost asked about her family aloud, and barely reined himself in, snapping his mouth shut.
It didn't really matter. They were all orphans now.
-x-
"Alright, made it!" Mirio cheered, running the last few steps to what had once been a high school gymnasium. At one point, the walls must have echoed with the sounds of dozens of balls, cheering students, and squeaking sneakers. Now, the place was in shambles like the rest of the world. Even worse, as it was an older school and the building had needed repairs even before all this happened.
Still, it was a large, covered area. Just perfect for the survivors in their area to meet. Some preferred to stay close, sleeping in the nearby school. Others had their own hideouts away from the crowd. All met here once a day, to gather supplies and divvy up meals.
Nejire ran in after Mirio, chirping eagerly, "Guess what I found today!"
Tamaki frowned before following them in. This was his least favourite part of the day; there were so many people in here. Unlike the relative solitude of the city, this gymnasium felt like what the world must have been like before: crowded and noisy. Maybe it was a good thing he never would have to deal with it.
As he stepped through the big, barely-on-their-hinges doors, Tamaki blinked and adjusted to the dim lighting inside. It was gloomy inside, barely lit by a half-dozen. Squinting, he could just make out Mirio and Nejire. Next to them was a plump woman. He didn't have to hear her voice to recognize Mrs. Midoriya. Her dark green hair had a strange shine to it in the poorly lit room.
"And you're sure you're okay?" she asked, wringing her hands she examined Nejire. She paid no attention to the bag of food at her feet. "Nothing too dangerous today?"
"Nope!" Nejire giggled as she twirled around, demonstrating her health. She wiggled her fingers and then her legs, and added, "I'm in one piece."
Mrs. Midoriya gave her a flat look before sighing. "I can't tell if you're making fun of me or not." She turned to Mirio. "And you?"
"In perfect health!" Mirio flashed her a thumbs up and grinned charmingly. As usual, it worked and she relaxed slightly. "It was easy."
"That's what you always say." Like clockwork, she turned her focus to Tamaki. As she fussed over him, she grumbled, "All of you don't take it seriously enough out there. It's dangerous! And Izuku wants to join you in searching."
"It's not that bad," Mirio consoled, picking up the food bag and carrying it over to the big cooking pots. It was easier if they cooked a big communal meal and it was easiest if it was a stew or soup of some sort. Tamaki could understand—nothing got wasted that way—but he was tired of the taste. "As long as you're careful."
Nejire watched him disappear before chiming in. "We're always careful."
"Always?" Mrs. Midoryia clicked her tongue disapprovingly, not buying a single word. Finally pulling away from Tamaki, she bit her lip. "I'm trying to keep him away from all of this but…" She gave them a helpless look. "I suppose I don't really have a choice in the matter."
"We'll keep him safe," Nejire promised, grabbing her hands and squeezing them tightly.
Tamaki nodded and smiled awkwardly. "He'll be fine as long as he learns the ropes."
"I trust you." Mrs. Midoriya smiled back sadly. "I…I know this is hard on you all. You're so young! You should be worried about tests. But…thank you, for everything." Trembling, she gripped Nejire's hand back tightly. "I'll make sure to cook you a tasty dinner, okay? It's all I can do, I know, but—"
"Hey, hey, I love your cooking!" Nejire exclaimed. "I want it every day."
"You have it every day," Mrs. Midoriya laughed weakly.
Nejire smiled. "Then I'm very lucky."
-x-
Home was a small lab, located two blocks from the school. Tamaki couldn't remember who'd found it, if Nejire had tumbled into it or Mirio had realized what it was or if Tamaki had just opened it accidentally. They'd lived here almost as long as they'd known Nejire and Tamaki couldn't breathe easily until they were inside once again.
It was a little bit of a hassle, walking to and from the school. Especially since so many of the classrooms had been converted to individual bedrooms for privacy. Tamaki could probably bear with it, but he liked it better here. It hadn't weathered all that well, with vines and flowers creeping out of vents and climbing the walls in a desperate attempt to get a little sunlight. There were large glass vats, broken and cracked, their contents long gone. Nejire and Mirio liked to guess what they'd held—giant sewer rats, dinosaurs, and a slime monster were the favourite choices.
There were several side rooms, filled with dusty computers, thin beds, and tables cluttered with moldy books. With no central heating, they'd pushed together several beds and dumped all the blankets in an effort to keep warm during the winter. Even as they ate now, sitting on the floor, Nejire nestled in between Tamaki and Mirio for heat. "This is cuddly," she declared happily, her bowl teetering precariously on her lap. She always managed to keep it upright but Tamaki worried it'd fall one day.
Mirio hummed his agreement, squeezing a little closer. "I'm in the middle next time."
"Nope," Nejire shut him down immediately, taking a spoonful from her stew. "Mmmm, this is great."
That, Tamaki had to agree. What they lacked in variety, they didn't lack in taste. And though he was used to his companions' cooking (judging by the slight kick in it, Momo must have helped), it wasn't bad to eat in the least.
"That reminds me." Mirio took a spoonful himself, blowing on it to cool his bite. "They found a girl today."
"They did?" Tamaki hadn't thought it was possible to find anyone new at this point.
"Yeah." Mirio grinned brightly. "Eri's six and really cute."
No mention of her parents. Tamaki knew better than to ask. "She's staying at the school?"
"Yeah, Mrs. Midoriya said she'd take care of her." Mirio stared thoughtfully at his bowl. "She's just six."
Before he could wonder why Mirio was stuck on that, Nejire asked, "Hey, hey, does that mean she doesn't know what it's like before?"
Oh. Suddenly, he understood. At six, this must have been the only world she'd ever known. This world of ruin would always be her 'before'. Tamaki wondered if it was better that way, to not have a point of comparison. It had to be easier to adapt, at the very least.
Sensing the shifting mood, Mirio reached over Nejire and poked Tamaki. "The weather's getting nice now. Which means it's your birthday soon!"
"Ehhhh?" Nejire stared at him, her mouth open. "Hey, hey, you didn't tell me that!"
"I…" Tamaki flushed and looked into his stew. "It isn't that important."
"It's always important, it's your birthday!" Nejire disagreed, crossing her arms.
"He was born in March, so it's got to be March soon." Mirio scratched his cheek, nose scrunching as he thought. "Maybe Iida knows? He's keeping a calendar, right?"
"When's yours?" Nejire asked, shooting Mirio a suspicious look.
"July," Mirio laughed, bumping shoulders with her. "Don't worry, it hasn't passed yet."
"That gives me just enough time to plan," Nejire murmured and Tamaki wondered if he should find out what that entailed. For safety's sake, at least.
-x-
Sometimes, when the others were out, Tamaki liked to climb onto one of the platforms in the main lab and think about nothing. There was something beautiful about the room, about the plants forcing their way out of every crevice. A bird flew by overhead, breaking in from one of dozens of gaps in the building. Broken machines and lab equipment surrounded him—scientific scanners and screens that were too cracked to even show his reflection. At one point, it must have been busy here. Probably.
Tamaki couldn't say he knew enough to even pretend to understand this room. No one he knew understood it, and he wondered if the knowledge was lost for good. He and Mirio had snuck into a museum once, looking at the displays of foreign animals and lost civilizations. This room wouldn't be out of place there. They wouldn't be out of place there. Maybe in the future, someone would call them a forgotten people.
A soft glow caught his eye and he looked up as a flock of butterflies soared to the roof, searching for a way out. Tamaki didn't know science or tech, but he knew nature. He knew the changes that happened to even the most innocuous of creatures. Those butterflies glowed as softly as moonlight, and he wondered if they would have glowed anyways or if the end of the world had changed them irreparably too. There were so many plants and animals that were just different from their usual counterparts. It was the new normal.
Maybe it was a good thing. He didn't know much of the world 'before', there was only so much you could know as a child, but from what Iida and Izuku learned, it was a world teetering on the brink of disaster. One way or another, they would have ended up here anyways. He only wished they could have been more prepared.
Opening his knapsack, he searched for the spatula. It was silly, but he wanted to hold it again. He could almost smell his mother's baking, even though he couldn't remember what it was. Digging through the bag, he frowned as he came up empty. Had he dropped it somewhere? It was probably for the best, but he couldn't stop the disappointment welling up inside.
"Tamaki!"
A hurried shout snapped Tamaki out of his thoughts and he slipped off his perch. Recognizing Mirio's voice, he jogged to the entrance. "What's the matter?"
A disheveled, wild-looking Mirio grabbed his hand. "Nejire! She's in trouble."
-x-
Tamaki stared at the behemoth grizzly bear. As they had raced to the city's center, he had expected something dangerous if only because of how hard Mirio's hand shook as he dragged him along. It wasn't a surprise that Nejire was in trouble—she got easily distracted, following one thought and then another without any concern for her surroundings. It was the reason she found things no one else could. It was also the reason that this wouldn't be the first nor last time Mirio had ran to him in a panic.
Still, out of all the reasons Nejire could be in danger, Tamaki had not expected this. Crouching behind a dumpster, Tamaki peeked around the corner at the giant bear as it sniffed around an old telephone pole. The beast looked twice as big as any he'd seen before, its claws glowing unnaturally in the sunlight. Whatever had infected the butterflies hadn't stopped there and Tamaki momentarily wondered if there was some unnoticed change in people too.
Not that it would help either way. The bear snuffled on the ground, yawning occasionally to reveal a jaw full of sharp fangs. Fortunately, Nejire could climb, and she had hoisted herself high above the bear. This bear was far too big to follow. It also didn't seem particularly concerned with her. That was good—this must have been an accidental run-in, Nejire crossing paths with a bear barely awake after hibernation. The only problem was that every time its big body bumped into the telephone pole, the thin tower trembled. It wouldn't be long before it cracked and broke, taking down Nejire with it.
"What do we do?" Tamaki whispered, leaning against the dumpster. Breathing shallowly, he tugged on his collar.
"It doesn't seem hungry, at least." Mirio crouched and peeked over the dump. "It might not realize Nejire's there. Maybe if I can lure it away, you can grab her and run."
"What?" Tamaki grabbed Mirio's arm, shaking his head furiously. "That's too dangerous! You don't know what it can do."
"It's okay." Mirio smiled reassuringly, resting his hand on top of Tamaki's. His grip was firm. "I'll run along the rooftops—it can't climb, so I'll be safe up there."
"But—"
"We can't leave her," Mirio pointed out, already moving away. He had always been a hero. Tamaki hoped it wouldn't kill him this time. "I'll meet you at the school."
Tamaki bit his cheek. Nejire could only hold onto that pole for so long. There weren't any other options. "The school?" he asked, reluctantly getting into position.
"She might be injured." Mirio called over his shoulder, already sprinting away before Tamaki could so much as tell him to be careful.
Tamaki watched him disappear into a nearby building before turning back to Nejire. His hands were clammy and he wiped the sweat on his pants. This was frightening. After this, they had to keep a leash on Nejire or something. There was no way he could fight a bear on a regular basis.
As promised, after a few minutes the bear looked up and lumbered away. Tamaki faintly heard Mirio yelling—was he just using noise or also food to lure the predator away? Either way, he didn't have time to think about it. He had to get Nejire. They had to go back. After the bear disappeared, he waited five long seconds before dashing up to the telephone pole.
"Nejire!" Tamaki glanced around nervously. The bear wasn't in sight anymore. "Come down!"
Nejire peeked down. "Tamaki?"
"You have to hurry!" he urged, scanning around him once more. It was too quiet now. He couldn't even hear birds chirp. Was there another bear lurking nearby? Or some other, more dangerous creature?
"Where's the bear?" Nejire looked around, confused. She started to slowly shuffle down when she realized the coast was clear.
"Mirio's distracting it." He wished they still had radios, but it was too hard to find working batteries.
Landing on the ground with a thud, Nejire stumbled forward a few steps before regaining her balance. She groaned lightly as she rubbed her arms. "Ouch."
"Did it hurt you?" Tamaki focused on her, scanning her body for wounds and blood. Aside from a few scrapes on her knees and hands from climbing the pole, she looked fine.
"Nothing broken," Nejire replied, still wincing as she rolled her shoulders. "Just really, really, really sore."
"Can you walk?" Tamaki asked. When she nodded, he grabbed her hand and started sprinting back to the school. Mirio would meet them there. He just had to.
-x-
"Mirio!" Tamaki leapt to his feet as Mirio stumbled into the school's hallway. Dashing to his friend, he checked for any injuries and sighed with relief when the only thing he found was a cut on his thigh. "You okay?"
"Almost perfect!" Mirio grinned weakly and winked. Even if he wasn't injured, he was clearly very tired, and Tamaki looped an arm around his waist as he guided him to a nearby chair. "That bear can run."
"It's a bear." Tamaki fretted when Mirio groaned. "Did you break anything?"
"No, no, I'm good. Just, you know, really sore." Mirio leaned back and closed his eyes. "How's Nejire?"
Tamaki glanced back at the Nurse's room, where Nejire was getting checked. They might not have a doctor, but they did have bandages and two people who had taken a first aid course. It had to be enough. "Sore. She seemed fine."
Mirio sighed. Relaxing, he opened his eyes. "Mission success! Thanks, Tamaki."
"I…I didn't really do anything." Tamaki shook his head, uncomfortable with the praise. "You both did the hard work."
"I could only do that cause I knew you were there." Mirio winced as he grabbed Tamaki's hand and squeezed it. "You were great."
It still wasn't something he deserved, but he knew from past experience that Mirio and Nejire refused to listen to that. It was better just to accept and end the conversation there. "You should get your leg checked."
"After." Mirio stared at the door. "Do you think—"
The door swung open, interrupting him. An exhausted Nejire trudged out, yawning slightly. Noticing them, she perked up and beamed brightly, though her energy was still nothing near her usual levels. "Mirio! You're back!"
"You're safe!" he replied cheerfully, rising to his feet.
Nejire wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. She nestled her head in his chest. "You okay?"
"Yeah." His voice softened as he hugged her back. "You too?"
"Mmm." She nodded. "I'm sorry."
Mirio shook his head. "It's fine. What happened?"
"I was looking for berries and I guess the bear was too." Nejire fell silent. "I thought it wouldn't go away."
That was a fear Tamaki had shared and suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the urge to touch, to confirm that they were both here. Stepping closer, he brushed his fingers against their arms, feeling sparks run up his hand at their heat. Without another word, Mirio pulled him into the hug and Nejire grabbed his shirt with a hand.
For once, he didn't mind. He could hear them breathing, feel their heart beating. They were still alive. They had made it through another day. They were still together and that was all that mattered.
-x-
In hindsight, Tamaki should have realized something was up the second Nejire insisted they stay at the school for dinner. They never did that. Then again, they also never had run-ins with bears and he was still calming down, so he hadn't thought too much of it. Mirio and Nejire could have asked him anything and he would have said yes, if only to stay closer to them.
For a while, it had been all three of them sitting in one of the teacher's lounges, huddled on a ratty couch. A mess of arms and legs, all tangled up as they waited for dinner. At some point, Nejire had pulled away, and Tamaki had slipped into an uneasy sleep.
"Tamaki," Mirio whispered, poking his shoulder.
Tamaki stirred, still fatigued. His back felt sore from sitting on the couch for so long. Yawning, he covered his mouth. "Is dinner ready?"
"Kinda." Mirio poked his shoulder again. "Look."
Opening his eyes, Tamaki slowly adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. While he'd fallen asleep, it had gotten darker. It must be almost night—they'd have to sleep here, it was far too dangerous to go home now. Around him were several candles, giving the room a warm, cozy feeling. And just ahead of him was Nejire, holding a cake. A lit candle sat on it.
Tamaki sat up immediately. "Is that…?" he trailed off, afraid to utter the word. Maybe he was still dreaming.
"A cake," Mirio finished, getting up and standing next to Nejire. "Well, kinda, we don't really have that much flour. It's more fruit than cake. A fruitcake," he joked, looking ridiculously proud.
Nejire knelt in front of him, holding out the chipped plate. Now that it was closer, Tamaki could make out a jam-like substance spread out all over the cake. "What's that?"
"Blackberry sauce." Nejire smiled softly. "Not icing, but your spatula worked just fine with it."
Oh. So that's where his spatula had gone. And the berries— "Is that why you were out?"
"Yeah." Nejire giggled. "Hey, hey, I hope the bear wasn't making a cake too."
Mirio knelt beside her and they sang together, "Happy birthday, Tamaki!"
Tamaki swallowed, fighting back tears. This was too much, especially on a day like this. He could barely handle the bear, and now this? Nejire laughed, reaching out to wipe his eye. "I'm glad you like it."
"Of course I do!" he replied, grabbing her and Mirio's hands. In all honesty, Tamaki didn't know what he'd do without them. He was weak with them and even weaker by himself. "Next time, don't do anything dangerous. Not for something like this."
"Something like this is very important," Nejire retorted, still smiling. "Even I know birthdays are special."
"And yours is very special to us," Mirio added, squeezing his hand. "Now blow out the candle."
Tamaki stared at them, then at the flame. He didn't know what to wish for, honestly. Everything he could think of was a practical matter—fixing the world, finding enough to eat, staying safe. If he had to wish for something, then…his eyes flickered to Nejire. They still didn't know too much about her. Hell, he didn't know her birthday. But he could change that. He would change that. They were in it for the long run and maybe it was time they started opening up to one another.
Leaning forward, he blew out the candle and silently prayed, I wish we could stay together.
