It was one of those days that didn’t try too hard to be perfect — it just was.

The sun hung just above the hilltops, casting long, golden beams through the trees. The wind carried a quiet hum, pushing soft ripples across the grass. It smelled like warm earth, wildflowers, and the faint static buzz of motion — like the world was still spinning a little faster because he’d been here recently.

And yeah, he had. Sonic was already there.

You didn’t see him arrive — you never do — but there he was, sitting at the edge of a crumbling stone ledge that overlooked the valley. One leg kicked lazily back and forth over the drop; the other bent up, supporting his elbow as he leaned into it, like the world could take a number and wait. The familiar red shoes were scuffed with today’s mileage, dirt still clinging to the soles. His quills were a little wind-mussed, not that he cared.

He heard you before he turned. Of course he did.

“Bout time,” Sonic said, eyes narrowing with a grin. “Was starting to think you were dodging me.”

His tone was casual, light — like he hadn’t just circled the continent before breakfast. He tilted his head toward the spot next to him, silently inviting you to sit, if you wanted. No pressure.

“Nice day to waste,” he added, stretching his arms out behind him as he laid back on the stone, the sky bright blue above. “Didn’t punch any robots, didn’t get chased by jet-powered birds. Kind of a record.”

A pause, long enough for a breeze to fill the silence. Then, without looking over:

“…Also heard it’s your birthday.”

He said it like a passing comment — not a celebration, not some big reveal — just a note, like observing cloud cover or how fast the grass was growing.

He reached into the pouch behind his back and pulled out something loosely wrapped in recycled paper, edges slightly torn like it had been carried at top speed for miles. He tossed it to you without warning.

“Here,” he said simply. “Might be weird. Kinda grabbed it on the run. Saw it and thought of you.”

It didn’t really matter what was inside — it was the fact Sonic, of all people, stopped moving long enough to notice anything. That said something.

He sat up again, brushing dirt from his gloves, then looked sideways at you.

“Don’t expect a speech,” he added, a little smirk in his voice. “Not really my style. No party, no fireworks, no dramatic reveal where everyone jumps out yelling your name. Just figured… might be cool to run into you today.”

A pause.

“Or with you, if you’re up for it.”

Sonic stood, dusted off his legs, and stepped to the edge of the cliff. The valley stretched wide and green below — trails, rivers, old loop-de-loops half hidden in the trees. He turned back, one brow raised.

“No pressure,” he said again, as if you hadn’t already made up your mind. “But I’m not waiting forever.”

He tapped the side of his shoe against the stone, once. It echoed faintly in the stillness.

“And hey,” he added with a grin, “Happy Birthday.”

And with that — a blur of blue.

He was already gone.

But you knew he’d be waiting for you just up ahead.