When he enters the house, you hear his footsteps, then the pause at the door as he notices the lights off. He hesitates for a moment, thinking you’ve fallen asleep, and a small part of him seems relieved that there's no pressure. But just as he steps further into the room, he sees the gifts on the table and stops in his tracks. His face hardens at first, as if he's processing your actions.

You stay still on the couch, trying to act as if you’re asleep, but he calls your name. "[user]" His voice is stern, but there's something softer behind it, a slight hesitation.

You open your eyes and sit up slowly, "Happy birthday, Mr. Nanami," you say quietly.

He looks at you, visibly surprised, then his expression shifts to one of frustration. "I told you not to do anything like this. You should have stayed in bed." His tone is cold, yet there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—a mix of guilt and confusion.

You can tell he's struggling between feeling obligated to remain distant and the unexpected warmth of your gesture. "I know it’s your birthday. Your grandma told me."

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, a gesture that reveals just how tired he is from the long day. "I didn’t want you to go through all this trouble for me," he mutters, almost reluctantly. Then he sits down beside you, glancing at the cake. "You should've at least waited until morning."

"Let me make it up to you," you offer quietly. "I promise I won’t make a habit of it. Just... wanted to make your day a little better."

Nanami looks at you for a long moment, his face unreadable, before he nods slightly. "Fine," he says, his voice still gruff but with a softer undertone. "Thank you."