POV Midorima
On the first day of November, Takao comes into the bedroom and sits beside me while I work on my English homework.
"Will you pronounce this word for me?" I ask, pointing at the combination of English letters that resemble gibberish to me. English is his best subject and I know that his pronunciation is better than the teachers.
"Flower," he says quickly. "Flou-er."
"Fa –"
"No," he corrects. He makes a series of stuttering sounds, exaggerating the shape of his mouth and the placement of this tongue. "Flou-er."
"Never mind," I say, closing the primer and pulling out my mathematics textbook. Numbers are much easier to comprehend for someone with OCD. They make sense every time, they follow rules, they – he's looking at me with one eyebrow raised and I think he's disappointed, but then he shakes his head with a trademark smirk. He waits until I finish with the current question before he speaks.
"Shin-chan," he says and he's wearing a determined expression on his face that I predict will either get me in trouble or annoy me. "I know what I want for my birthday."
"If it includes intimate behavior in an inappropriate place, you can forget about it," I answer blandly, hoping he will pick up on the humor and lighten up a little. I have no easy way of telling him that his intensity bothers me, I have to hope that he understands my attempt at levity.
"No, this is serious Shin-chan, all jokes aside," he says. He understands that I am uncomfortable, but it seems like this is so important to him that he must continue. I put down my pencil and give him my full attention. I've already purchased a necklace for him that matches mine, so whatever he wants, if it is a physical item, I can to pass along to my parents or Kaori. If it is something less intrinsic, I will of course, do my best to –
"I want you to promise me," he says, cutting off my introspection, "that this year you'll do your best to make sure everyone ignores my birthday. I want this November 21st to pass completely un-remarked. I don't want cake, presents, cards or well wishes. I want that Friday to be like any other Friday – nothing special."
"But it's your –"
"I realize it's completely selfish, especially since you'll have to convince a lot of people – family, our team, our friends – that this is exactly what I want. Next year, do whatever you want, but this year I want to have a sort of…palate cleanser. Birthdays haven't always been happy for me and I just want some distance."
I look away from the pleading in his eyes toward the top drawer of the dresser. His necklace has been hiding there since the day after my birthday, when I purchased it. I am annoyed that he spent that much on my present and I will not be allowed to reciprocate. I can't help the sigh that forms in my chest and bubbles out of my lungs.
"Alright, I don't understand it at all and I already purchased your present, but I'll put it aside for next year. If this is what you really want, I'll get on it right away."
"Thank you Shin-chan," he says and leans forward to kiss me. I don't respond fast enough and his lips are gone before I have a chance to kiss him back. Then he's up and gone from the room. There will be many people upset with me, including the committee I put together to plan his party, but I am used to having people irritated with me.
I spend the next twenty minutes composing a message to go out to the team and our few friends. It takes me all that time to write it out by hand, edit it, re-edit it, and then vacillate between sending in out by mass text or emailing it. I type the carefully chosen words into a text, making sure auto-correct doesn't embarrass me.
[I regret to inform you that ALL plans regarding Takao's birthday are now cancelled. For his birthday, Takao wants absolutely nothing - no cards, no wishes, no presents, no cake. The party is now CANCELLED.]
I have to talk myself into sending it. It feels wrong on some many levels and if I intrinsically know it is a mistake, how can he not? But the memory of his eyes and the promise I made compels my finger to hit send.
I get six or seven responses in minutes. Most of them are asking me if this is some sort of "Ace-sama joke" and if it is, I am told, "it isn't funny." Instead of addressing them separately, I send yet another mass text.
[I apologize for any confusion and no, this isn't a joke. Per Takao's request, his birthday is cancelled.]
There are no responses for long enough that I think the matter is closed, but it isn't.
Kagami replies to all with a single question: [Why?]
Anger is not one of the emotions I am comfortable with, but when I read his text, I want to throw my phone across the room. I type [Die], my usual, rote response, but I backspace leaving the blank screen to mock me. I put the phone down and go after Takao. I don't know 'why' and he is the only one I can ask for help with these confusing emotions.
Takao is in the garden helping Dad replant the avocado trees into larger pots. They sit side by side, chatting in low, but animated tones. Takao brushes his hair back and leaves a trail of dirt across his brow. Dad wipes it away and Takao laughs; it's not that fake, mechanical sound that I hate. I will not ruin his happiness, even to make myself comfortable. I back out the way I came, without either noticing my presence, and go back to the waiting phone. I am calmer now, as if his smile is a cure for my anger.
Two more texts echo Kagami's. Akira and Kasamatsu both wonder if I will answer them, if I won't answer Kagami.
[Please respect his privacy and his reasons. If he changes his mind, I will let you all know. The subject is now closed. Thank you.]
Only one person does not take that answer and his text comes privately.
[Midoirmacchi! Is Takao ok?]
I feel fully justified in answering him back [Die].
Thank you to my Beta Reader Andarkness23.
Also, Sara - if you are reading this can you send me message at kazunarimidorima . I can't respond to guest reviews.