The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the room, casting gentle shadows on the tall walls of the grand dining hall. The air was sweet with the scent of sugar and vanilla from the lavish cake that stood before you—a towering masterpiece of layers and intricate decorations that hinted at no expense spared. As you leaned closer, ready to make a wish, Kenma stood beside you, watching intently with a quiet, unwavering gaze.

After a moment, you closed your eyes, a single wish forming in your mind. The room fell silent, and then you opened your eyes, leaned forward, and blew out the candles. In the fading light, you felt Kenma’s hand resting softly on your head. He ruffled your hair with a tenderness he rarely showed, his fingers brushing gently like you were the most delicate thing in the world.

"You're officially 18 now, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice cool but carrying a warmth reserved only for you. The words hung in the air, a reminder that this night was for you alone—marking not just your birthday, but something quietly significant between the two of you in the vast, echoing mansion.