In the bustling night time of Shibuya, there stood a boy, with somewhat light clothing, compared with the freezing environment, and a muffler around his head, shivering constantly.
A large crowd, symbolic of the Christmas festival to unveil, in a few days, was to be seen to fill the streets of Shibuya.
Preparations were underway, rapidly, for the upcoming events.
It was as if the whole city had come together to enjoy this little event of preparation, before the actual thing.
Trees decorated with lights and gift packets were being set up, and shopping malls were busy preparing for display of their exclusive collection of attires to wear at Christmas eve.
Everyone was busy.
Yet, a lone boy, walking down the crowdy street, with nothing.
Yup, that lone boy is me, and I am not begging for sympathy.
Not that it matters, as nobody cares.
And it's a fact.
Well, a fact applicable to me at least.
Everyone seems busy, really.
I sighed accepting my fate, and stopped in front of a cake shop, shut down the web novel app, and put my phone in my pocket.
It was one of the shops, I visited around this time, every year.
They had those Christmas exclusive cakes on their display section, with so many different colors, it almost made me blind.
I wonder why it was so shiny this time.
The decorations were also kind of flashy, comparable to those that of malls, which I didn't expect at all.
Whenever I visited before, this shop had a bit dull appearance to it, this time, so I unconsciously built a sense of attachment over some stupid familiarities, with myself.
Well, what did I even expect?
Of course they would decorate like this to attract customers.
It's wrong of me to expect them to stay the same forever, like me.
Change is the truth.
Everyone changes over time.
After criticizing myself and this cake shop for a few minutes, I finally entered, thinking I would just leave after taking what I need.
The bell above the door rang as I walked in.
A small sound, but it felt loud in my head.
It was warm inside. Much warmer than the street outside.
My cold hands slowly started to feel again as I pulled my muffler tighter.
And just like I thought—it was bright. Too bright.
The cake shop looked completely different now.
Lights were hanging everywhere, blinking in different colors.
The cakes were sitting neatly in the glass box, each one looking like a decoration rather than something to eat.
Chocolate, cream, red and green—colors were all over.
It didn't look like the place I remembered.
Before, it used to be simple. A little dark maybe, but I liked that.
The menu used to be handwritten, with a few smudges here and there.
Now it had a glowing screen showing prices and cake names.
Everything looked new.
Better, I guess. But not for me.
I stood there for a second, feeling like a stranger. The place had changed.
But I hadn't.
"Good evening!" someone said.
I turned. It was a girl in a red apron and a Santa hat.
She looked around my age.
Her voice was bright and cheerful.
"Are you here to buy something for Christmas?" she asked with a big smile.
"No," I said quietly.
She didn't mind. Just started talking about offers and cake designs like she was reading from a script.
New flavors, discounts, holiday decorations—none of it mattered to me.
When she finished, I pointed at a simple chocolate cake behind her.
"That one. Medium. No toppings."
She blinked once. "Oh, okay! That's one of our basic ones. Still really good! Want to look at some designs for the frosting?"
I gave a small nod.
She pulled out a small book and opened it.
Page after page of fancy designs, most of them too pretty and too expensive.
I picked the plainest one—just white cream with a border.
"This one," I said.
She paused, maybe surprised. "Alright," she replied. "Please have a seat. It'll take a few minutes to prepare."
I walked over and sat down in the corner. The seat was soft now. I remembered when it used to be a hard wooden chair.
All around me, people were laughing and talking. Kids were choosing cupcakes.
Couples were holding hands. Families were taking pictures.
I looked away.
A few minutes passed. Then she came out again, holding a small notepad.
"Do you want to write anything on the cake?" she asked. Her voice was still kind, but there was a small pause.
I looked down at the floor, then back at her.
"Just write... Happy 20th Birthday."
That's all.
Her smile faded just a little. I noticed. She didn't ask any questions, but she looked at me for a second longer than needed.
Then she nodded and walked back inside.
I sat alone, looking out the window.
People passed by outside, holding shopping bags, laughing, rushing.
Christmas lights flashed on the street.
Snowflakes made of paper stuck to the glass.
Everyone looked busy.
Happy.
Today is my birthday.
And I'm the only one who remembers.
No calls. No texts. Not even a message from an old friend.
It's not like I like to be secretive and didn't tell anyone, when my birthday was.
But, I guess, people forget about such things.
Especially for someone like me.
My parents are, well, always busy this time of the year, so I can't complain much about them.
Anyway, I stared at the screen, displaying a wide varieties of cakes, and whatnots, I can't even spell them.
Then, I looked at their prices, and averted my gaze instinctively, as I realized they were definitely not for me.
Well, thanks to that, I was reminded of my own financial position again.
From inside the kitchen, another girl came out. She was dressed just like the first one—with a red apron and that silly Santa hat.
Probably the uniform. She looked about the same age too.
But… she felt familiar. I couldn't tell how.
She walked to the counter and started packing the cake I ordered. The box had cute little Christmas drawings on it.
A reindeer, snowman, and too many hearts.
I stepped up to the counter.
"How much is it?" I asked, reaching for my wallet.
She glanced at me, then told me the price.
I pulled out the exact cash, handed it over, but… she just stared at me.
Not in a weird way.
Just... looking.
Gently.
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