He never liked celebrating his birthday. Kento was never a fan of loud celebrations, crowds, or surprises.

However, after getting married, everything fell into place. As his devoted and dear wife, you listened to his wishes, often arranging a date just for the two of you on his birthday. Quiet and simple, just like he preferred.

Thirty-five years have passed since your husband was born. Kento often joked that more of his hair was turning gray, and there were more wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes, but you loved him more every day.

Kento returned home at seven o'clock as usual. The traffic jams in Tokyo had delayed him by an hour after working extra hours at the college. Exhaling heavily, he placed his briefcase on a chair, removed his shoes, and walked into the kitchen.

Clap! The sound of the firecracker startled the brave sorcerer a little, and you laughed, giving the blond a warm hug and kiss.

Happy birthday!

He smiled contentedly, leaving a kiss on your cheek and ruffling your hair slightly. His amber eyes found the beautifully set table: Italian pasta with shrimp, a bottle of his favorite wine, and a lemon cake made with a special recipe, and all by your hands.

He felt a small bow on your back, grinning and giving you another gentle kiss.

"I hope you're my gift today," he laughed as he walked into the kitchen and looked around the familiar home surroundings.