Work Text:
"Happy birthday!!!"
Ross stared at the abomination that was… that was supposed to be a cake. Supposed to be. If she looked in a certain way, then maybe she could see it as a cake- no, who was she lying to, that's just charcoal in its purest form.
Rin jumped to her, excitement clear in his face. "Happy birthday! You're fourteen now!"
"You're fourteen." She said back out of spite. Her brother only stuck out his tongue in retaliation. "Where's my gift?"
"Where's my gift? You give mine first then I'll think about giving yours."
"You didn't prepare one, did you."
"Of course I did!" Rin gasped in mocked offense, then pulled out something from his pocket. "Here, your gift!"
Ross stared at it, then inhaled deeply. "Rin," she started. "-my twin, my brother, my favorite person in the world, that is an empty can of soda."
"Reduce, reuse, recycle." Rin replied, smiling. "Gift?"
"How about I reduce reuse recycle you you son of a-"
Lilia, who had been witnessing the clown foolery, clapped her hands in an attempt to stop a potential civil war in her own home. Her ruby eyes stared down at them, cold enough to make them shivered in fear and clamped their mouths shut. She gave them a look, then sighed. "I took a day off not for you two to argue with each other. Rin, be a dear and get us some candles."
"Why me? It's also my birthday! I refuse to follow authority today!"
"We had an agreement, didn't we? This year you work, next year she works, so on and so forth. Now, stop being a lazy bum and get the candles."
Rin groaned, walking away while grumbling unhappily. Ross took joy upon her brother's suffering. He returned minutes later with some candles and a plastic knife.
"No offense, but do you really think we can cut through this…" she gazed back at the piece of charcoal. "...cake, with a plastic knife?"
"I hope you remember we're banned from using the good knife." Rin replied, as Lilia mumbled. "What's wrong with the cake..?"
"Oh, right. The incident." Ross hummed, stole the candles from Rin's hand ("Hey!") and stabbed it onto the cake.
The cake fell apart.
They all stared at the crumbling charcoal in an awkward silence.
"...ah." Lilia mumbled. "Perhaps baking a cake at 800°F in ten minutes wasn't a great idea."
In the end, they still managed to keep the candles stood straight in the middle of the crumbled cake. It's still funny, and at the same time awkward, but when they're about to blow out the candles, Ross found herself smiling fondly.
Rin turned to her after the party, sauce on his face from the take-out, asking. "How do you feel, turning fourteen?"
Ross stared at the mess of a dinner table in front of her, warm and bright, then gazed to Lilia, trying her best to peel some apples, and hummed. "Happier, i guess."
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She found herself slumped on cold walls on another June 1st.
It's so hard to see in this dark tunnel, decades later. Her arm bled, blood dripped on the ground, as she walked and walked, groaning in pain. She didn't mean to come back into her old town, but it seems that common sense could still lose to nostalgia.
It's just. It had been so long. Could one not return home, after a long time leaving?
She walked, and walked. Her head felt dizzy, even though her arm had healed over time. Why did it matter? It's not like it'd kill her. Nothing had, unfortunately.
She breathed, shuddering. She still couldn't see the exit. Had Lilia been here, she'd scolded her for even letting herself in this situation in the first place. Had Rin been here, he'd probably laughed at her for being so stupid as to leave the map behind, because they'd always laugh in the face of concern. And they'd hugged her, cheered her on, and be by her side until they managed to get out of this damn place.
Except they weren't here. Except that they had left her a long time ago, and she had continued on, and their bones had probably already long gone.
It hurted. Everything hurted. Her healed arm hurted, her head hurted, her heart ached, and damn it, she only wanted to visit their graves as some kind of fucked-up birthday gift for herself.
Ross breathed in, and breathed out. Her vision was getting more and more blurry, and she couldn't figure out if it was because of her headache or because of the stupid tears that suddenly appeared in her eye and wouldn't disappear. She felt her legs hit something, and belatedly realized that she had already dropped to the floor, and realized she couldn't care any less.
"Happy birthday!" She heard a cheery voice, and she could smell the smell of burnt cake, of take-out pizza, and she felt as if she's sitting at a warm and bright dinner table, with a red haired woman peeling fruits, and a brown haired boy, sauce on his face, smiling bright at her. "How do you feel, turning one hundred?"
Ross heard herself replied, dry and tired, before consciousness left her: "Terrible."
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She coughed, and coughed. Her body shook, and blood dripping from her mouth, and fuck, since when did the buds grow into full-on flowers?
Ross breathed, and every breath was agonizing. She breathed in the smell of iron and the faint smell of orchids, and coughed again.
Flowers were all around her. The room was stuffy, and hot, and the floors were covered with flower petals and blood, old and new blended together. She sat in the middle of the room in the old cabin, and wondered how it all came to this.
Fuck Hanahaki. Who the fuck decided to throw the damned disease onto someone whose love were for the dead? She couldn't even talk. The disease made sure of it.
Sweat rolled down to her cheek and dripped to the ground. She felt her clothes stuck to her body, soaked with sweat and probably blood. She groaned, and fell down to the wooden floor. The sun shined, bright and blinding. She closed her eyes despite all of it.
"Happy birthday!" A sweet, oddly familiar voice came from a blurry face. For some reason, she imagined there's sauce on their face. "How do you feel, turning eight hundred?"
She did not answer. Lilia taught them not to answer to strangers, after all.
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Ross stared at the cupcake in front of her, then up to the old man. It was a hot day, so she came to his store with some fruits. She tried to bargain as usual, and then he told her to stay, for some reason. She still did not know the reason even after he brought her the baked goods.
He gestured at the cupcake. She looked down at it, then looked back up to him. He nodded, probably thinking she was telepathically asking him if she could really eat the cake, which was not what she wanted to ask at all. Clearly telepathic communication was a myth through and through.
"What's the occasion?" She asked, deciding it was too late for mind games. She's hungry, and the sky was turning dark already.
The old man raised a questioning eyebrow. "It's your birthday, isn't it? That's a gift. Unless you're truly stupid as I thought you were and don't even know what a birthday is?"
She stared down, eyebrows furrowed. "Today was my birthday?" She mumbled, then looked at the store owner that she accidentally met a few years back. "How did you even know?"
"You're a very open drunk."
Ross stared, her mouth opened, then closed, unsure of what to say. "I…see." She said, glancing at the calendar behind the old man. June 1st, it said.
If the old man noticed, he said nothing. "Well, go on. Dig in. It's late already, I have to close the store soon."
"Aren't you supposed to give me some candles so I can wish and blow them out?" She pouted. "That's the whole point of the birthday!!"
"Asking for more again, I see." He grumbled, yet still gave her two candles and a lighter. "There. For you and your brother."
Ross took them and stabbed the candles into the cake, reminding herself not to drink out in public again. There's no bright "Happy birthday!" this time, yet she still felt warm.
The old man asked her after she had blown out the candles. "How do you feel, turning one year older?"
She looked at him and hummed. "Well…still the same as yesterday, i guess."
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"Happy birthday!" Three obnoxious voices yell at her, confetti everywhere. Deuce is wearing his usual polite smile, albeit a bit happier, while Ace and Grim are grinning ears to ears. "Birthday interview! Birthday interview!"
"I haven't even get to blow out the candles." She deadpans. "I did not save your asses along with this school just to be treated like this. I demand refund."
"Stop being a drama queen." Ace states, and Ross, for the first time in decades, feels offended. "Hello? Pot calling kettle black, i see."
"Ugh, can you two stop with your stupid wabblings? I want to eat tuna!" Grim complains, as Deuce laughs, bright and warm.
"Alright, well, since I got the interviewer role, i'll start the interview now."
Ross squawked. "But the cake-"
"Later." Charlie said, voice stern as he pops out from the floor. Ross huffed, groaning. "Ughhhh, finnnnee."
"Sometimes I wonder how you're like, two millennia old."
"Sometimes I wonder how you managed to make it into this school with your barely-present one brain cell."
"Excuse me?!"
"Guys." Deuce says, exasperated. "Do you want to eat the cake or not?"
They go quiet immediately, but not without complaining. Deuce only sighs, already accepted his role of occasionally being the mediator as he flips to the first question.
"Well," Deuce's eyes skimmed through the question. "How do you feel, turning two thousand and one?"
Ross hums. The yellow light that she and Grim fought blood and tears to install into the dorm shines, warm and bright. Ace and Grim sitting on a side, for once not fighting, excited. Deuce stares at her with a warm smile, waiting for an answer. If Ross tries hard enough, she can pretend to see two silhouettes in the background too, both smiling and waving at her.
"Happier, i guess."