What do people do to celebrate birthdays...?
The question’s been rattlin’ around in Sakura's head all mornin’, louder than the screech of train brakes and more persistent than the buzz of a fly against a windowpane. Nirei mentioned it yesterday, offhanded, and Sakura, who’d been tryin’ to feign disinterest in their conversation... had been snagged by the word.
The word itself is foreign to him. A concept he knows of rather than one he understands. Birthdays aren’t somethin’ he’s ever had reason to pay much mind to. His own passed in silence, another day on the calendar. Nirei made it sound important. So important, in fact, that when Suo walked in not a minute later, Sakura had to fight off the urge to punch him.' You... ! ' he’d growled, no context. Then glared at the wall, a knot of somethin’ tight and uncomfortable gobblin’ up his guts. Because Suo didn’t tell him. Because Suo didn’t say nothin’. Because if not for Nirei, Sakura would’ve known jack shit.
The wind nips at the back of Sakura’s neck as he stands outside a brightly lit convenience store. The automatic doors open and shut to his pacin', a constant hot and cold hittin' him. He shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his uniform, scowlin’ at the rack of colorful drinks . He’s been here for twenty minutes, his eyes pickin' fights with the refrigerated area. He doesn’t even know what the hell he’s doin’. A birthday gift. That’s what this is supposed to be. He’s got some money in his pocket, crumpled bills from odd jobs he’s taken. He’s never had to buy someone a... gift before, much less a birthday gift. Does Suo even want somethin’ from him in the first place?
If he'd wanted somethin, he would have said somethin'. That’s how this works. So why the hell am I still standin’ out here? The thought of doin’ nothin’ is pissin' him off. It feels like losin’, and he can’t stand it. ❝ This is so damn stupid, ❞ he grumbles to himself, turnin’ away from the store and kickin’ at a pebble in his path. He feels stupid and lame, and irritated at himself. He should go home. Forget the whole thing. It’s not like he's supposed to know it's Suo's birthday. Since the bastard didn’t bother tellin’ him himself. But as he starts to walk away, his eyes catch on somethin’ in the window of a small shop.
There’s honestly not much to look at. A little place sellin’ odds and ends in a back alleyway, second - hand books and some dusty trinkets. But sittin’ on a small velvet cushion, there is a single, antique - lookin’ silver ring. It’s not fancy, no big jewels or anythin’ like that. Just a simple band, worn with age, with a single, swirl pattern etched into the metal — somethin’ that almost looks like a dragon’s scale. For some stupid, unidentifiable reason... it feels right.
Suo's into this...type of crap.
He shoves the small, velvet - lined box into his pocket. Slapping money on the counter and not waiting for the change, he dodges the shopkeeper’s cheerful, ❝ Thank you, come again! ❞ and is back out on the street before the bell finishes its cheery chime.