August 6th. There was (probably) only one person in the entire world who was celebrated that day. The venerated's party was scheduled later at her behest so that she could spend the hallowed day with her friend and confidant. Luckily Chiyo was more than willing and able to help her scheme proceed smoothly. However, despite her careful planning, the day was coming undone before it could even begin.

She had invited Saiki over to try a cake she had made for just the two of them. She had comically styled the cake to look similar to the heart-shaped cake that had been ruined by the obnoxious but unwitting barrier to her efforts that had been placed there by the intended recipient. However, the shape of the cake had once again caused a misunderstanding.

As usual, Makoto had found it in the refrigerator despite her best efforts to conceal it.

"Kokomi! I can't wait to share this special date between the two of us! I'm so glad you perfectly picked a cake that perfectly defines our relationship to the rest of the world!" Makoto extolled, lifting his arms up to the heavens. He clutched a sack of gifts that were probably about as haphazard as the manner in which they were thrown into their packaging in his right hand. One could only guess at what condition they were in. He could not maintain his composed demeanor anymore. His eyes quivered, his arms shook, and a hint of drool peeked out from the corner of his mouth.

The cake is supposed to smell very good, but not THAT good.

"Onii-chan, that cake is meant just for me! I wanted to have a quiet birthday this year, so I got a cake with the flavor I wanted. This shape was the only one they had left; I am deeply sorry for the misunderstanding it has caused," she said with a respectful bow.

"But Kokomi, that cake is too much for a perfect woman like yourself to eat alone! Please allow me to help you keep your perfect figure; I know you always want to look your best!"

Do you know anything about me?

Earlier she had asked him to fly to another country so he could greet her happy birthday in front of some famous monument. Despite how ridiculous it sounded, similar requests had worked in the past. He never went down without a fight, though.

"Kokomi, it makes me so happy that you got this because you wanted to resolve our sibling spat! You didn't have to give me a present on your birthday, but your perfection of course knows no bounds!"

I didn't do this for you, idiot. Also, why would you jump subjects like that? Since when is that how you conduct a conversation?

"Brother, it would make me the happiest if I can spend my birthday the way I want to, so please allow me this much. I've already forgiven you. What sister could not forgive her brother after something so minor?" she pleaded. Her perfect veneer was starting to unwind. She needed to get out of this situation before her emotions got out of control again.

However, god could not bear seeing her cry twice and granted her mercy. Both of them turned their attention to the front door as an entourage of suits burst through it.

"Offu!"

"Mr. Mugami, a VIP requested a private photo op in front of the Sphinx as your Joker, the Mad Eye Detective character! There's no time, we'll get you the costume on the way there!" the woman who stood front and center exclaimed.

"B-b-but..." Makoto stammered.

"No ifs, ands, or buts! The VIP paid a large sum of money on the request that you be there ASAP!"

Two large men swiftly flanked the distressed siscon and put him in a hold before he could run, causing his sack to tumble to the floor unceremoniously.

"Apologies for the intrusion, miss," one of the captors respectfully adressed her. Makoto was dragged out of the house yelling complaints that fell on deaf ears. Teruhashi breathed a sigh of relief, but immediately jolted when she heard a spirited exclamation outside.

"WHY IS THERE DOG POOP ON MY LAWN?! GET THESE FLIES OUT OF MY FACE AND CLEAN MY SHOES AT ONCE!"

She heard firm voices outside respond to the shrill scream, but the cacophony was becoming more distant. She thought she vaguely heard young girls, undoubtedly fans, scream after they came to investigate the ruckus he was making. It was more than clear to Teruhashi that he did not like his fans, so she didn't fight the schadenfreude entering her mind.

She stood still for an indeterminate amount of time, her thoughts only white noise. Her legs suddenly buckled as she collapsed to her knees. Her limbs and posture sagged. She felt relief wash over her, but she couldn't bring herself to be happy. Her luck had pulled through, but all she felt was emptiness, loneliness, and stress from the perfection that pervaded her raison d'être.

She was startled when she heard a soft gust of wind in front of her and scrambled to collect herself when she realized that her birthday guest had arrived.

"Relax, Teruhashi. You're fine," Saiki said carefully, holding his hands up as if he were trying to calm a frightened animal.

She could not allow him to see her like this. Imperfect was one thing, but wounded was too much. She struggled to her feet, hugged herself, and attempted to scramble her thoughts to avoid anything related to what just happened. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting him to pry into her thoughts again; but no intrusion ever came. She lifted her eyes to face him. He bore a look of concern; but his arms were pressed flush to his side, terminating in tightly balled fists.

An eon of deafening silence was the only form of communication that passed between them until he finally spoke.

"Do you... want to go sit down?" he stumbled, seeming to want to help but having no idea how to. She nodded gratefully and they moved to sit on the nearest couch. They settled into silence again, though it was much more tranquil than the suffocating tension of before.

She gasped when she felt skin contact her dress. Fingers slowly and unsurely wrapped around her shoulder. She looked up to see his arm outstretched toward her, his face twisted into a tight scowl a bit different from all of the others. Most of his expressions were some variation of tightly drawn facial muscles, so she had gotten quite acquainted with them. Anxious trepidation was the only way she could describe this particular look. His scowl briefly tightened in annoyance, but quickly loosened as relief washed over him.

She briefly glanced at his hand on her shoulder to ensure that this was no delusion, but it was impossible to mimic the weight and finger indentations of a comforting hand even for her "grandiose" imagination. When she looked back at him, he had the look that she pined for: the one that exuded tenderness, comfort, and focus on her and her alone. She saw her eyes shimmer in the lenses of his dull green glasses once again.

"Ahem," she coughed into her hand upon the realization that she had forgotten to breathe since he grabbed her shoulder.

She immediately regretted it when he quickly withdrew his hand from her shoulder, but the embarrassed look that came with it was a nice consolation prize.

"So about that cake..." he said, using mirth to conceal his embarrassment.

"Stop assuming. It's annoying."

Oh, right. Telepathy.

"Ehm, It's still in the kitchen," she said mousily, shaking herself back into reality. They headed to the room.

"Why are you like this?" he suddenly said with an aggravated sigh. She glanced around to figure out what he was focusing on and giggled when she saw the cake box.

"If I have to make my own birthday cake, I reserve the right to tease you about it." He let out a pained groan.

When Saiki opened the box, he studied the cake closely. She had retained the glossy, thin chocolate top and chocolate icing on the sides, but topped the topper with a tasteful arrangement of neatly sliced strawberries. They weren't in season, but her love for the flavor made it worth marring the perfection. The light and fluffy yellow sponge sandwiched a layer of whipped strawberry mousse with strawberry chunks mixed in. It may have seemed a bit discordant to some, but to her it was a perfect blend of superficial elements that hid an unexpected center. She ensured that there was nothing written on top of the cake. Saiki let out an exaggerated tut.

"Do you need candles?"

"No, it's fine the way it is."

They sat down, served themselves, and enjoyed the cake in tranquil silence. Obviously the cake had the all the qualities of a professional baker's, so Saiki didn't have to tell her it was great.

Something was different about his gaze, she mused while chewing on the cake absentmindedly. It was mostly the same as always, but a certain amount of comfort came with it. She had noticed something similar during the home visit after they had eaten that strange coffee jelly, but couldn't quite parse the differences. She glanced up at him. He seemed focused on the cake, but it still didn't stop her from wondering if he listened to her thoughts, ignored them, or was too focused on the cake to notice them in the first place.

Regardless, they finished up, and she reflexively moved to do the dishes. She turned around when she felt a presence behind her and said, "There are only two plates, two forks, and a knife to clean. You really don't need to help me."

He shrugged and moved to wash his plate and fork in the sink. She rolled her eyes at his obstinance and took station alongside him. He cleaned them quickly, accidentally brushing against her as he moved to put the kitchen effects away. Both reacted in a manner very disproportionate to the rather mundane circumstances. She saw his eye twitch in her peripherals; it was extremely likely that he was annoyed with her "delusional" reveling in incidental touch. She giggled when she noticed the petulant scowl that indicated her appraisal was quite accurate.

"D-do you want to come up to my room?" she blurted out with a small, nervous voice that presented as more as a squeak than a coherent sentence as she put away the last of the cutlery. Her logical faculties were just as frayed as her invitation; she could not reassemble the mess that her original plan for the day had become.

He raised a brow. "This isn't anything new. I have x-ray vision and teleported to your room unannounced in the past."

"R-right. It just feels... strange."

He nodded thoughtfully. Regardless of the context, it was hard for her not to feel anxious. The truth of Saiki's prior statement had helped to allay the nerves of her initial invitation, but despite the fact that all they were doing was moving rooms she could not ignore the weight behind her simple question. With careful planning and a bit of luck she had positioned herself on a high pedestal by leveraging her natural talents, even going so far as to tier her behavior as if it were a currency.

However, every action has consequences. She achieved the nearly absolute control she desired, but by doing so she doomed herself to a loneliness that ran much deeper than she ever realized. She had tried to protect herself by encasing herself in a nearly airtight suit of armor, but the effects of gradual suffocation had made her myopic and disillusioned. The only thing that she could rely on to give her the courage to reach out to someone just as isolated as her was ironically the shrewd tenacity that had landed her here.

Freely giving away one of her most powerful bargaining chips would take a long time of getting used to. Even if she and Saiki were not meant to be, she would have to learn how to do this to have a shot at the life she didn't know she could live, much less wanted. She had resigned herself to becoming a perfect wife and mother, but she couldn't let the chance to engage someone on equal footing slip. Maybe one day, she could be whatever she wanted to be. She took a short pause to collect herself and then headed upstairs as he filed behind her.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," she said with a small voice, gesturing toward the space that, unbeknownst to her, set the events leading to the now erased first discovery of his powers in motion. He surveyed the room much more intensely than usual until his head turned to a new addition.

"Oh, the TV? We had a spare, so I decided to move it into my room because I wanted a change of pace!" she said incredulously. A half-lie or half-truth depending on the interpretation. Obviously, he caught her easily; but she wasn't sure whether or not it was because he read her thoughts or because he had noticed the neatly stowed game console in a drawer below the TV. Something about her thoughts evoked a nameless, but somehow very familiar fear in her mind. She did not have time to interpret it. His next words quickly blew away her thoughts, saving her the trouble of doing it herself.

"A change of pace?" he asked. He clearly had no problem bullying her while she was already embarrassed.

"U-um, yeah," she all but whispered.

"I can see the game inside the console too," he said, prodding her further.

"Uh... Huh," she replied with vacant eyes.

"You try too hard," he said, shaking his smug face at her. He suddenly stopped teasing her and stared through her, lost in thought. He furrowed his brow when he realized something.

"Was that you who joined me?"

She meekly nodded, hanging her head as if she had been caught stealing from a cookie jar.

His eyes went wide and hers responded in kind. Their body language had said more than words ever could have. Saiki tried to school his expression, but she could tell he was more surprised than she had ever seen him, even noting that he leaned back slightly as if he were going to step back. At least she could do that much.

"I-I'm..." she stammered.

"Don't apologize," he firmly interrupted.

She eyed him quizzically. They didn't say a word to each other for what felt like an eternity. It was her turn to be surprised when his face softened.

"W-why?" he said quietly.

She hung her head in shame. He already knew the answer.

"You did that... for me?"

"Well... not entirely. You can probably figure out the rest of it."

He stopped to consider for a brief period. "Never change, Teruhashi-san," he said with more than a hint of mocking mirth.

"I go through all that trouble for you and THAT'S what you focus on?" she pouted angrily. Her incensed cheeks swelled as steam erupted from her ears like a tea kettle.

He shot her an amused grin. "Being competitive is one of your main personality traits, so it obviously matters a lot more to you than me."

"I could slap you right now," she nearly snarled, snapping her head to the side while folding her arms across her chest. Her aggressive pout persisted.

"The whole world would have my head if you did."

"You deserve it," she answered curtly.

"Are you threatening me, Princess Teruhashi-sama?"

"Yes. You deserve to be put in your place," she shot back angrily.

"Maybe I do," he said, looking off to the side. He was probably chuckling in his head. "Have a peace offering then," he said as a small, neatly wrapped box appeared in his outstretched hand. Her eyes went wide with surprise. Nobody even looked at Teruhashi-san on her birthday without giving her a present, so it was natural that he get her one as well. However, the Commandments of the Church of Offu did not seem to apply to him. His timing was almost mean-spirited though. She narrowed her eyes and cautiously took the box from his hand.

She opened it, covered her mouth, and sucked in one of the deepest breaths she had ever taken in her entire life. Inside the box was a meticulously packaged small canvas portrait of her likeness. She had seen her portrait painted wearily often with professional artists among their number, so she was able to notice small imperfections. Some lines were a bit too thick, too long, and brush strokes too heavy, but to her it was perfect.

She closed the box and hugged it to her chest, her eyes lost in the backs of her eyelids as she beamed what was likely the biggest smile in her life.

"People are starting to notice your aura. I would suggest turning it down a bit unless you want a lot of uninvited guests; it's somehow going through the walls," he said with amused incredulity, breaking her blissful reverie.

She flinched. "Oh, right. Thanks," she mumbled, dimming her aura in kind.

"Friendly neighborhood psychic at your service, citizen," he said, making a small finger salute.

She rolled her eyes at him. "So, what made you land on this? I never took you for the sentimental type," she asked. The trap was set.

"I figured you might want it since I didn't deliver it before," he said with a shrug.

"Nobody makes something like this unless they're making a move. You saw how many people did that for me in the art room when they had partners to draw," she lead, trying a more direct method of springing the trap.

His expression quickly soured. "Don't make me regret this," he said, glaring at her.

"Whatever," she huffed. "How long did it take you to make it?"

"About 5 seconds. It was easy with thoughtography," he quipped.

"You're full of it," she accused.

"Think whatever you want, I was the one who made it," he replied unamused.

"I saw you throw away at least 10 papers when we were in art class," she pursued further.

"Everyone was watching me, so I couldn't draw anything conspicuous."

"Like what? The shoujo picture I drew of you?"

He gave her one of the foulest glares she had ever seen on him. "Fat chance. I can hardly draw anything besides photorealistic images. I don't understand art."

The steel trap slammed shut. Got him.

"You heard my thoughts; this picture is definitely not photorealistic. If you don't understand art, then how could you perfectly make those imperfections without some sort of reference?

"You're officially worse than Akechi. I didn't make this to have my artwork criticized."

"Such a dull boy," she droned, giving him a pitying look.

"Why can't you just accept anything without overanalyzing it?" he scoffed.

"Why do you ask stupid questions?" she shot back.

"This is why I never do anything nice for anyone. I always regret it," he grumbled.

"Oh, you do; just not conspicuously."

"It's better that way."

"Is it? I probably wouldn't be here if you did. You'd be a golden retriever like Hairo, who I clearly have no interest in."

"Harsh."

She shrugged. "Is that off brand for me?"

"…not really," he said with a smirk. She giggled in return.

She didn't know how he felt, but she was on cloud nine. This was easily her best birthday yet.

"This is ok, I've had better days. They usually don't involve any nuisances."

"So I'm a nuisance?"

"Why do you ask stupid questions?"

"Why are you so stubborn?"

"Why are you so obnoxious?"

"Why are you so…"

They charged headlong into acrimonious bickering with no intention of yielding.