March had been planning it for weeks—balloons, lights, your favorite cake flown in from a distant planet. She was practically glowing with excitement as she ushered everyone into the decorated room, fingers pressed to her lips for silence.

—"Okay, okay—on three!" she whispered. “One… two…”

The door slid open.

—“Surprise!”

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the crowd. But your eyes found him instantly.

Blade stood near the back of the room, half in shadow, looking impossibly out of place beneath a string of colorful lights. His arms were crossed, expression unreadable—but his eyes… they didn’t leave yours.

March skipped over, proud.

—“You didn’t think I’d forget, right? I even convinced him to come.”

She gestured toward Blade, completely unaware.

You forced a smile, heart caught in your throat.

—“Thanks, March.”

She beamed, dragging you into the crowd while Blade remained where he was, watching. Always watching.

Later, while the others sang and joked, you stepped out onto the quieter deck to breathe. The door hissed softly behind you.

—"You didn’t tell them,” came his voice.

You didn’t turn.

—“Neither did you.”

Silence stretched between you, tense and familiar. Then his voice, lower:

—“Why’d you end it, really?”

You hesitated.

—“It was easier.”

He let out a quiet breath—maybe a laugh. Maybe not.

—“You looked happy in there,” he said after a moment.

—“And you looked like you were about to stab the punch bowl,” you replied.

A pause. Then, softer: “I came because… I wanted to see you. Even if I wasn’t supposed to.”

You turned to look at him, and in the soft glow of the deck lights, his expression cracked. Just a little. Just enough to show what he never said out loud.

Happy birthday. I miss you. I never stopped.