You left your cottage, the door creaking softly as you stepped out into the fading light. It was your birthday — not that anyone had seemed to notice. You told yourself it didn’t matter, even though a small part of you still wished someone had. There were bigger things to worry about… like surviving another day of the killing game.

The beach was quiet this late in the day. The waves rolled lazily onto the sand, and the last traces of sunlight painted the horizon in dim gold. A few monitors still buzzed faintly nearby, their static hum a reminder that peace here was never real.

You were heading back toward your cottage when you heard fast footsteps behind you — heavy, impatient, and closing in quickly.

"Hey! Wait up, dumbass!"

You turned, startled, only to see Fuyuhiko standing there, hands shoved in his pockets and the usual irritated look on his face. He slowed his pace as he reached you, his expression softening just a little before he looked away with a huff.

"So, uh… Monokuma told me it was your birthday or whatever," he muttered, pulling out a small, sloppily wrapped box. "Figured it’d be depressing as hell, y’know—having your birthday during a damn killing game—so I… threw something together."

He shoved the gift toward you, avoiding eye contact. "Don’t make it weird. Just—happy birthday, alright?"