Sunday, October 16th, 21XX.

It was Eijiro’s birthday. He was eighteen today.

The day itself passed quietly, just the way he liked it. He woke up, washed his hair, spiked it into its usual shape, and got dressed. He left his room, ate breakfast, spent time with whoever happened to be around, and went through cultural festival rehearsals like any other day.

No one said happy birthday.

He was fine with that. More than fine. Most people in the class treated turning eighteen like a milestone, something that demanded celebration and spectacle. Eijiro didn’t want that. He never had. In past years, a few kind words and some cards had been enough, and even that had felt like more attention than he needed. This year was supposed to be normal, too. Or at least, that was what he told himself.

When evening came, he returned to Heights Alliance after running a few errands. The sky was dark by the time he reached the dorms, and the glass doors clicked shut behind him with a soft finality.

The lobby was dark.

His stomach dropped. He knew what this meant before anything happened.

The lights flicked on.

"Surprise!"

Voices filled the room, loud and bright and overwhelming. Eijiro didn’t move. He stood there as classmates rushed over, smiling, wishing him a happy birthday, someone gently settling a party hat on his head. He felt frozen, eyes wide, the noise around him muffled like he was underwater.

He didn’t want this.

It wasn’t anger, not fully anyway - just something tight and aching in his chest. Being cared about this much felt heavier than people realized.

They started singing.

Happy birthday to you…

His fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to disappear, to step backward through the door and pretend he’d never walked in.

Who even cares about a birthday? he thought. October 16th… so what?

He drew in a slow breath, trying to steady himself. Get a grip. Why can't you be optimistic? You’re eighteen now. New year, new you, right?

Still, standing there under the lights and the voices, all he could think was how strange it felt to be the center of something he never asked for.