The house is dark when I step in.
Not the normal kind of dark.
Not "someone forgot to turn on the lights."
This feels… arranged.
Like the darkness is waiting for me to notice it.
I pause at the door, hand still on the handle.
"…why is it dark?"
Behind me, Niran closes the door softly.
No answer.
That alone already tells me I should be worried.
I take one step in.
Then another.
"…hello?"
Silence.
Too clean.
Too intentional.
My chest tightens a little.
"…I swear, if this is another one of your weird setups—"
CLICK.
Light bursts through the room like a flood breaking through glass.
"—SURPRISE."
I don't just flinch.
I actually stumble back.
My heart slams against my ribs like it's trying to escape first.
"…WHAT—"
And then I see them.
Ara in front, wearing a crooked party hat like she fought it and lost.
Ji-Ah beside her, clapping softly, eyes already too bright.
Lalin floating slightly above the floor, grinning like she's been waiting for this moment for years.
And behind them—
the room itself has changed.
Balloons everywhere, uneven but stubbornly cheerful.
Streamers taped too high, too low, too crooked.
A banner stretched across the wall:
HAPPY BIRTHDA
The final "Y" is hanging on by one corner of tape, swaying slightly like it's tired of life but committed anyway.
And in the middle—
a cake.
Not perfect.
Not elegant.
But made.
Someone made this.
For me.
I stand there.
Not moving.
Not speaking.
Because my brain is trying to understand something it doesn't have language for.
"…you remembered," I say quietly.
Ara rolls her eyes immediately, like she's defending herself from something softer than she wants to admit.
"Of course we did."
Ji-Ah nods.
"We all did."
Lalin smiles.
"I like when people exist."
That makes something twist in my chest.
I don't know what to do with it.
I don't know where to put it.
"…you didn't have to do all this," I say.
Ara steps forward.
"Yeah. We did anyway."
Simple.
Like that explains everything.
Like it's obvious.
Like I should've known.
Something in my throat tightens.
I laugh once, but it comes out wrong.
"…you guys are insane."
"Correct," Ji-Ah says.
"Accurate," Lalin adds.
"Expected," Ara finishes.
They don't deny it.
That's the worst part.
Ara pushes a party hat onto my head.
It's too small.
It tilts immediately.
"Don't remove it," she warns.
"I hate this."
"It suits you."
"That's an insult."
"It's truth."
Ji-Ah lights the candles.
The room gets quieter.
Somehow softer.
"Make a wish," she says.
I stare at the flames.
Tiny.
Fragile.
Alive.
My mind goes blank.
Not because I have nothing to wish for.
Because I have too much.
Too many things I'm afraid to name out loud.
My voice comes out lower than I expect.
"…I don't know what to wish for."
Ara leans in, dead serious for once.
"Then don't overthink it."
Lalin nods.
"Wish for something you already want."
That lands harder than it should.
I close my eyes.
I don't say it.
I don't trust it enough to speak.
But I think it anyway.
Stay.
Not happiness.
Not perfection.
Just—
stay.
When I open my eyes again, they're all watching me.
Waiting like my answer matters.
"Blow," Ji-Ah says softly.
I do.
The candles die together.
And for a second—
everything feels suspended.
Like the world is holding its breath with me.
Then—
they cheer.
Too loud.
Too messy.
Too real.
And it breaks something open inside me that I didn't know I was holding shut.
Cake happens immediately after.
Violently.
Ara cuts a piece and shoves it toward me.
"Eat."
"I can do it myself."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because it's your birthday."
"This is an aggressive celebration."
"It's love."
"That doesn't feel like love."
"It is."
Ji-Ah appears from the side and feeds me anyway.
I choke slightly.
"Why are you all like this?!"
Lalin giggles.
"It tastes like happiness."
"It tastes like sugar and chaos," I correct.
Niran's voice comes from the back.
"Same thing."
I turn.
He's there.
Not in the center.
Not performing anything.
Just standing near the wall like he always does.
Watching.
Quiet.
Present in a way that doesn't demand attention but somehow takes it anyway.
And my chest does something annoying again.
"Gifts," Ara announces.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
Ji-Ah goes first, handing me something carefully folded.
"This is mine."
I take it slowly.
"…thank you."
"Open it."
I unfold it.
Pause.
"…why is this the size of a child's clothing?"
"It's symbolic."
"Of what?"
"Your personality."
"That's not a compliment."
"It wasn't meant to be."
I stare at her.
She smiles sweetly.
I exhale.
"…I hate you."
"You love me."
"I don't."
"You do."
I don't argue further.
Because I do.
And she knows it.
Ara drags forward her gift next.
A large wrapped frame.
Heavy.
Suspicious.
"…this looks expensive," I say.
"It is," she replies proudly.
I unwrap it.
And I stop.
Completely.
It's a painting.
Of me.
And Niran.
But not like a photo.
Not realistic in a normal way.
It feels like memory and emotion were turned into color.
On one side—
me.
Warm tones.
Gold, amber, soft light.
Alive.
On the other—
Niran.
Cool tones.
Blue, silver, quiet shadows.
Still.
Unmoving.
But watching.
Always watching.
Between us—
hands.
Reaching.
Not touching.
But close enough that the space between them feels loud.
Like it's saying something neither of us has said properly.
The colors between our hands blur.
Warm and cold mixing into something unstable.
Something alive.
Something almost painful.
I stare at it too long.
"…Ara."
"…yeah?"
"This is… a lot."
"I know."
"…why does it feel like it understands me better than I do?"
She doesn't answer that.
Just shrugs like she's afraid to.
Then the room changes again.
Everyone turns.
To Niran.
He exhales slowly.
"…mine isn't a thing."
I blink.
"…then what is it?"
He looks at Ara.
"Play it."
She hesitates.
"…are you sure?"
"Yes."
She presses play.
Music fills the room.
Soft piano.
Then something deeper underneath it.
And I recognize it immediately.
The song from the car.
My chest tightens before the words even start.
I turn to him.
"…you didn't—"
"Listen," he says quietly.
So I do.
And it's not just music.
It's us.
Every argument.
Every silence.
Every moment I didn't understand what he was doing by staying.
Every moment I didn't realize I was waiting for him too.
My throat tightens painfully.
"…you wrote this."
He doesn't deny it.
"…yeah."
That simple.
That honest.
Like it's nothing.
Like it isn't everything.
I move before I think.
I grab him.
Pull him into me.
Hard.
Like I'm trying to hold onto something I didn't realize I was afraid of losing.
"…I hate you," I mutter into his shoulder.
He laughs softly.
"Yeah?"
"You're impossible."
"I know."
"This is unfair."
"I know."
"…don't do this kind of thing."
"Why?"
"…because it makes it hard to pretend I don't care."
That makes him still.
Just for a second.
Then quieter—
"I don't want you pretending."
I don't let go right away.
Neither does he.
And when I finally do, I look at him properly.
Really look.
And something in me cracks open in a way that doesn't hurt.
Just… feels too real.
"…don't disappear," I say.
It comes out smaller than I mean.
More honest than I planned.
Niran looks at me like the room has gone silent around us.
"…okay," he says.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just steady.
And then they all come in at once.
A group hug.
Messy.
Too tight.
Ara nearly knocks me over.
Ji-Ah is laughing through something that sounds like crying.
Lalin is squeezing too hard for physics.
And Niran—
he's there too.
Not outside it.
Not watching.
Inside it.
With us.
And I realize something while my face gets crushed between people who somehow became home without me noticing.
It's not the party that makes me feel full.
It's not the cake.
It's not even the gift.
It's this.
Being here.
Not alone.
Not forgotten.
Not temporary.
Just—
held.
And for the first time in a long time…
I don't feel like I'm waiting for something to begin.
I feel like I'm already inside it.