"Welcome back," Mitsuru greeted Yūki from the couch as the blue-haired boy stepped through the front door of the dormitory.

"Hey," he said back in his usual low energy manner. He was typically the last one back to the dorm if no one had club activities, so his late return wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that he had a shopping bag in his hand. Typically, the S.E.E.S. field leader would order things directly to the dorm, not bring them home himself. Even more unusual, instead of shuffling straight off to his room, he walked over to where Mitsuru was sitting and reached into the bag.

"Here," he said, handing her a small package wrapped in white paper with a deep red bow attached. It very much matched the student council president's white blouse and striking red locks. The second the package was out of his hands, he veered back towards his usual course towards the stairs.

"What is this?"

"It's your birthday, right?" the boy shrugged, as if his reasoning should be obvious.

"Well, yes, but... Why?"

The boy finally stopped in his tracks by the stairs, just as Takeba was descending to the ground floor. He turned to face her with a brand new expression on his typically tired, disinterested face: confusion. "Why would I get you a birthday present on your birthday? Hmm, I wonder."

Mitsuru wasn't sure if she was more annoyed by his sarcasm or his lack of answer to her question. "I mean, why did you get me a present for my birthday?"

"Should I have gotten one for Sanada-san instead?"

"Wh- No!"

"Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not!"

"You are."

"Would you just-!" She stopped and took a deep breath to collect herself. "What I mean to say is, why do you care enough about my birthday to get me a gift?"

"That's just something friends do, right?" Again, he shrugged as if this should be obvious.

To Mitsuru, however, this was not so obvious. She understood that friends did, indeed, buy each other gifts, especially on specific marked occasions, but she had never considered Makoto Yūki to be one of hers. In truth, Akihiko was the only other member of S.E.E.S. she had ever viewed as her friend, and that was only because they had been working together since middle school. But Yūki, Iori and Takeba? As far as she'd been concerned, they were closer to business associates, fellow club members and comrades-in-arms.

But friends? She had never looked at their group's dynamic that way. And for Yūki to be the first to openly refer to Mitsuru as such... Here was a young man who had suffered a tragedy she could barely fathom: witnessing the deaths of both of his parents in the same night at a very young age, moving from foster home to foster home before finally being accepted at Gekkoukan and being able to move back to his hometown after a full decade...

Akihiko had once described to her his own experiences growing up an orphan, how it often left like he had no place where he belonged, only grounded by his sister and best friend, and it had been difficult to listen to. For a boy without such close bonds, Yūki's childhood must have been a lonely, almost soul-crushing experience. As much was evident from his quiet, closed off demeanour and tactless, blunt straightforwardness. And yet, he had still opened himself up to her enough to consider her a friend when she had yet to do the same for him. As his upperclassman, as the head of the student council, and as the strategist of this team, Mitsuru felt ashamed of her closed-off nature.

"You can open it, you know." Yūki's almost cocky comment pierced Mitsuru's thoughts like a thrust from her own rapier. Her cheeks felt hot as she realised she had been staring the entire time she had been lost in thought.

She shook her head, her crimson locks flying with a wildness atypical of the usually cool, composed Kirijo heiress. She unwrapped the gift with unusually shaky hands and opened the box. Inside was a small teacup, white with a red rim, and her name written in red cursive lettering along the right-handed side.

"Daaaamn, dude," Iori chimed in as he joined Takeba on the stairs, likely attracted by Mitsuru's earlier shouting. "That one a' those cups from mmm-mmph?" Before he could reveal where Yūki might have acquired this gift, Yūki covered the newcomer's mouth with his hand. Takeba stared at the duo quizzically. Did Yūki not want them to know where he got it? Was it related to the price?

Mitsuru looked down at the cup in her hands, running her thumbs over her name, which was smooth to the touch, meaning it was not simply painted on in five minutes at the store. Had this actually cost him quite a lot? Was that why he was so secretive about its origin? That only made Mitsuru feel more curious about the transfer student's intentions.

Finally prying the hand off his mouth, Iori's soured expression quickly brightened again. "Aww, isn't that sweet?" he teased, wrapping one arm around Yūki's shoulder. "You'd better get me something for my birthday as well to make it fair!"

"Sure."

"Wait... For real?"

Yūki gave a nod and a shrug.

"I was just kidding."

"So?"

"I... Huh. You're a pretty cool guy, y'know that?"

"I guess."

"Oh, and don't forget Yuka-tan. Her birthday's October 19th."

"Wha- Hey!" the girl in question turned a shade of pink that perfectly matched her usual sweater. "Who gave you permission to just give out my personal information like that?"

"Huh? What's the big deal? Not like I gave him your three sizes or nothin'."

Takeba gaped in disbelief.

"No, I don't know them, Yuka-tan," Junpei sighed.

"Yūki!" Mitsuru said as she stood, a little louder than she'd intended, but successfully taking control of the conversation. "Thank you. This is a lovely gift. It is very thoughtful."

"And expensive," Irori added in the mocking tone one might use when teasing a friend over their significant other. In return, Yūki slapped him on the back of his head.

"Rest assured," Mitsuru continued, "I will return the favour on your own birthday." Although she didn't say as much, her frustration at the realisation that she didn't actually know when his birthday was seemed to be plastered across her face, as Yūki answered her unasked question.

"March 31st," he told her, a slight smile threatening to pierce his typically sullen expression.

"March 31st," she repeated, making sure to commit it to memory. "Very well. Look forward to that day, Makoto Yūki. I will give you a birthday gift you won't soon forget."

It's Mitsuru's birthday. She's 30 now. She's older than most of the P5 adult women and Atlus are too cowardly to show us what she looks like now. Pathetic.