-----> 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.