Dr Takuto Maruki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
takutomaruki) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
personavelvetroomdr2025-05-23 11:14 pm
takutomaruki) wrote in personavelvetroomdr2025-05-23 11:14 pm
Entry tags:
habbby bdayy (closed to hamuko, ichinose and morning)
-----> 23rd may, in maruki's apartment
It was the 23rd of May.
Maruki had been keeping an eye on the dates for weeks now. A small, red circle marked the number neatly on the calendar that sat atop his study desk, drawn in with the same meticulous care he applied to nearly everything else in his life. He’d told himself—promised himself—that he’d come up with something thoughtful for Ichinose’s birthday. Something more than the usual gestures. Something that said he’d been paying attention.
There had been a few complications, of course.
Ichinose said she had arrived in summer, and there was always the chance she’d already celebrated her birthday before meeting them—quietly, or not at all. He had tried watching her closely on the 6th, just in case. But her expression hadn’t shifted. No sign of expectation. No sulking. No joy. Nothing that screamed "this is a day for me."
Maybe he should’ve wished her a happy birthday then and there. But back then, he had been swamped—tangled in his research, consumed by the ever-growing list of patients, papers, the mess of his project. And of course, Morning.
Morning had taken priority.
It hurt him to keep the boy in the dark for so long—the Akira from another universe who was his son inadvertedly, one he never expected to meet. Every instinct told him to protect, to nurture, to give. So that’s what he’d done. The kid had already missed too much. Maruki couldn’t let him miss anything else.
So yes. Life had been full. Bursting, even.
But today was for them.
-----
He had taken Morning along with him to the lab under the pretense of needing help with a light calibration test—some throwaway excuse he knew Morning wouldn’t question too deeply. Ichinose was already there when they arrived, nose-deep in her work, and Maruki only smiled faintly before excusing himself.
“Sorry, I’ve got to run a quick errand. Won’t be long,” he said, grabbing his coat. “Just don’t let Morning fall asleep in my chair again, yeah?”
Then he slipped out, coat flaring slightly behind him, and headed straight to the place where the real work was already underway.
-----
Back at his apartment, the lights were dimmed low to hide the still-in-progress decorations. Modest balloons, two cakes waiting in the fridge. There was even a small hand-made banner hung clumsily above the kitchen archway that read: Happy Birthday!!—with the letters slightly crooked in their tape. Not his best visual work, but it had heart.
Maruki stood near the window now and occasionally peeked through the peephole of the entrance door at every small sound from the hallway, every shuffle of feet. He spotted them just a block away. Not yet. Still a little time.
He turned back into the room, brushing off his hands and checking that the candles were still tucked safely in their packaging.
"Hamu—uh, Hamuko-san?" he called out softly toward the kitchen. "They’re on their way here. Just got the text." He had messaged them that he's out to get groceries.
He moved to adjust one of the streamers that had started drooping again—tape failing, or humidity, he couldn’t tell which.
“I think this might actually work,” he murmured, almost to himself. A faint, nervous smile tugged at his lips as he looked over everything one last time. The table was set. The gifts- to an extent, the food, the soft jazz in the background.
Now all that was left was for the door to open.
And the moment of surprise to land.
It was the 23rd of May.
Maruki had been keeping an eye on the dates for weeks now. A small, red circle marked the number neatly on the calendar that sat atop his study desk, drawn in with the same meticulous care he applied to nearly everything else in his life. He’d told himself—promised himself—that he’d come up with something thoughtful for Ichinose’s birthday. Something more than the usual gestures. Something that said he’d been paying attention.
There had been a few complications, of course.
Ichinose said she had arrived in summer, and there was always the chance she’d already celebrated her birthday before meeting them—quietly, or not at all. He had tried watching her closely on the 6th, just in case. But her expression hadn’t shifted. No sign of expectation. No sulking. No joy. Nothing that screamed "this is a day for me."
Maybe he should’ve wished her a happy birthday then and there. But back then, he had been swamped—tangled in his research, consumed by the ever-growing list of patients, papers, the mess of his project. And of course, Morning.
Morning had taken priority.
It hurt him to keep the boy in the dark for so long—the Akira from another universe who was his son inadvertedly, one he never expected to meet. Every instinct told him to protect, to nurture, to give. So that’s what he’d done. The kid had already missed too much. Maruki couldn’t let him miss anything else.
So yes. Life had been full. Bursting, even.
But today was for them.
He had taken Morning along with him to the lab under the pretense of needing help with a light calibration test—some throwaway excuse he knew Morning wouldn’t question too deeply. Ichinose was already there when they arrived, nose-deep in her work, and Maruki only smiled faintly before excusing himself.
“Sorry, I’ve got to run a quick errand. Won’t be long,” he said, grabbing his coat. “Just don’t let Morning fall asleep in my chair again, yeah?”
Then he slipped out, coat flaring slightly behind him, and headed straight to the place where the real work was already underway.
Back at his apartment, the lights were dimmed low to hide the still-in-progress decorations. Modest balloons, two cakes waiting in the fridge. There was even a small hand-made banner hung clumsily above the kitchen archway that read: Happy Birthday!!—with the letters slightly crooked in their tape. Not his best visual work, but it had heart.
Maruki stood near the window now and occasionally peeked through the peephole of the entrance door at every small sound from the hallway, every shuffle of feet. He spotted them just a block away. Not yet. Still a little time.
He turned back into the room, brushing off his hands and checking that the candles were still tucked safely in their packaging.
"Hamu—uh, Hamuko-san?" he called out softly toward the kitchen. "They’re on their way here. Just got the text." He had messaged them that he's out to get groceries.
He moved to adjust one of the streamers that had started drooping again—tape failing, or humidity, he couldn’t tell which.
“I think this might actually work,” he murmured, almost to himself. A faint, nervous smile tugged at his lips as he looked over everything one last time. The table was set. The gifts- to an extent, the food, the soft jazz in the background.
Now all that was left was for the door to open.
And the moment of surprise to land.
no subject
The mention of the new location made him sweat a little, quietly. He tried to cover his silence with a little chuckle though it was more drawn out. And dry with the process. Cameras and alarms ringing, intruders rushing in- what if something happens to Morning and Ichinose? What if he freezes up? What if he can't pull the trigger-? What if something goes wrong and he ends up-
"I will think about it," he answers evenly- trying to reign control of the situation.
no subject
"Plus, I don't think most of the other residents are living near Odaiba, so that already sounds like the perfect place to shop around."
no subject
"Here, we can keep the plant aside for now," he reached forward to take the pot from her hands for a moment and set it down. "We will test MUSHI tomorrow morning."
no subject
"So what's the plan for tonight, then? I still need a break from the kids' energy."
no subject
"As for your other question...hmm.." He grasps his chin deep in thought. "Well it doesn't need to be anything tense. I usually just spend my hours off in research, reading books, weaving through old recipes or even fishing. Not like...we can fish here, haha but I am down to do whatever you want."
no subject
But hmm... research, reading, recipes, fishing... Kuon mulled it over for a bit. What were her usual recreationals? ...Research and reading, yes. ...Puzzle games.
"Hmm...! You know, this little patio would be a good spot for a small table and a jigsaw puzzle, don't you think? Those are always more fun to work on with someone else."
no subject
"I might have a small table somewhere here actually- back in college days me and my friends used to drink a lot here because I might have owned the place but they lived in it frankly," he shook his head. "Not like I minded that-! Anyways- I would just have to find it. That and puzzles...hm."
no subject
"A deck of cards can work, too, I just like problem solving a little more than games of chance."
no subject
Things really were different before he proposed to Rumi, weren't they?
"Card games are always best enjoyed with a large group and as much as I would like to involve the kids in a game of UNO- I think they are busy enough as is with each other. I will just look around if I have anything else- in the meantime, just wait here."
The low creak that echoed off when he closed his door wasn't lost on him. He's been living here since ages, stuck in the same apartment with people who came and left yet...somehow never stayed for long.
And now he was here, looking at the option of moving to a different location. A house possibly. Seperate. Independent.
Anyone would be able to break in.The place would be crawling with CCTV cameras...That wouldn't change a thing though, would it?But things are different! Now he has Azathoth, his persona who's all powerful and knows what it means to fight for a dream. Needless burglars don't have a chance against him.
A puzzle set...a puzzle set- is that one still here, he wonders?
Well only one way to find out, right?