Birth

For the next seven days, life continued as usual. But on the eighth day, something felt different.

That morning, Akira woke up on the balcony as always—but for the first time, his father didn’t shout at him. Akira woke up in peace. He walked into his room, looked at himself in the mirror, rested his hand on his forehead, and pushed his messy hair back. When he closed his eyes, he saw his mother in his imagination.

He pictured himself as a little boy again—short hair, a big smile, and his mother standing beside him. The image made him feel warm inside.

But then the alarm rang, snapping him back to reality. He opened his eyes, and the mirror showed only the present-day version of himself.

 “Why can’t I even smile like I used to in my childhood days?” Akira thought.

“There’s no way to return to those old days.”

He sighed, then headed to the restroom, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and changed into his school uniform. After eating the breakfast his father had quietly left on the table, he stood before his mother’s photo.

> “Another day without you,” he said with a soft smile. “See you later, Mom.”

He opened the door and stepped out.

Downstairs, Haruto was waiting for him.

 “Good morning,” Akira said.

Haruto smiled, leaned in, and whispered,

 “Happy birthday, Akira.”

Akira blinked in surprise.

 “Huh? My... my birthday? Oh right, I forgot.”

Haruto laughed.

 “Wait—are you serious? You forgot your own birthday?”

“Yeah… I don’t celebrate it, so I don’t bother remembering.”

Akira started walking ahead, but Haruto followed and asked,

“Then why don’t we celebrate it today?”

Akira looked away.

 “There’s no point.”

They reached the school. As Akira opened the classroom door, Hoshizuki ran up to him.

 “Happy birthday, Akira!” she said with a smile.

She held out her hand, and they shared a quiet handshake.

“When we start the birthday celebration, will you invite us?” she asked.

Akira gave an awkward smile.

“I don’t really celebrate my birthday...”

 “What? You should!” she insisted.

 “But I usually don’t—”

“We’re doing it at your house!” she announced.

Even Yasu and Riku, two classmates who were sitting nearby, turned around in excitement.

 “Wait, what? We can join too?” Riku asked.

Haruto laughed.

> “Sure, why not?”

 “Hai! No way you're saying no,” said Yasu.

Everyone started cheering, and Akira finally gave in.

That evening, Akira’s friends brought a cake and headed to his apartment. When they entered the house, his father was sitting on the couch, staring at them silently.

Akira turned to his friends and said,

 “Don’t mind him. He’s always like that.”

He led them to the kitchen table, opened the fridge, and found... nothing. No juice. No snacks.

 “That idiot,” Akira muttered under his breath.

“I’ll go buy something. Wait here—I’ll be back fast.”

His friends agreed, and Akira ran out of the house.

Ten minutes later, Akira returned with juice and snacks. But when he entered the building, he saw the elevator open—and his friends stepping out.

“Where are you going?” he asked, confused.

Riku answered, avoiding eye contact.

 “I realized I have some urgent work…”

 “Me too,” said Yasu. “Sorry, Akira. We can celebrate another day.”

Akira turned to Hoshizuki. She was holding the cake but said nothing. She handed it to him and walked away in silence.

Akira stood frozen in the hallway.

 What just happened…?

Down the street, Haruto caught up with him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Akira… your dad told them everything.”

 Flashback: (What Akira's Father Told His Friends)

“Are you friends with my son? He’s a waste of space. Soon he’ll be watching adult videos all day like the trash he is.

I don’t care who you are, but if you spend time with him, you’re wasting your life.”

> (To Hoshizuki): “Hey girl, do you even have any sense? You're better off without someone like him.”

The words hit Akira like a knife to the chest.

 “Sorry, Akira,” Haruto said quietly. “We all left because of that. I'm so sorry.”

Akira ran home, slammed the door, and shouted:

“Where are you?!”

He found his father in the living room, sipping juice meant for the guests.

 “What do you think you're doing?! That was for them!”

“This is my house. I’ll eat what I want,” his father snapped.

 “You’re a jerk. No—you're the king of all jerks! I hate you!”

“Watch your mouth, kid. I’m your father.”

“What are you, really? You’re just a sad, selfish man wasting my whole life!”

Akira stormed out of the room, throwing the juice bottle on the floor. It cracked and spilled everywhere.

A few minutes later, guilt started to eat at him.

Maybe I went too far...

He slowly walked to his father’s room. The door was slightly open, and through the gap, he could see only his father’s leg.

 “Dad... I’m sorry. I messed up…”

No reply.

Akira pushed the door open.

There, lying motionless, was his father.

His breath stopped.

No sound. No movement. Only his own heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Dad...? Fa... father? Are you alright?!”

Akira screamed into the silence.

 “Father"