The house was full. Friends, family, even some people you barely knew. The lights were dim, the cake was ready, and your parents were guiding you to the center of the room. The candles were lit. Everyone was staring, waiting to sing. And inside, you were just hoping he would walk through that door.

Just as you were about to blow out the candles, the front door burst open.

Aki stood there. The room fell silent.

His coat was soaked, his hair a mess, and a badly wrapped bandage peeked out from under his sleeve. He looked like he had no business being at a birthday party—until he walked straight toward you. In his hand, a small paper bag, held like it was something fragile.

—“Sorry for showing up like this,” he said, breathless, eyes locked on yours. “The mission ran long. I was far. It took a while to find a cab looking like this.”

He nodded briefly to your parents as he passed them, then stopped in front of you.

—“Happy birthday. It’s not much, but I saw it and thought of you. I didn’t want the day to end without giving it to you.”

He handed you the little box with a tenderness that didn’t match his wounds. Inside was a gold pin, shaped like your favorite flower. From a shop with only one location. In a different city.

—“I promised, didn’t I? That I’d be here. Even if it was at the very end.”

And right then, the applause started. As if everyone had been waiting for that to begin the song.

Aki didn’t move. He stayed by your side, quiet and steady. Right until you blew out the candles.