The Un-birthday Party

Plac. Plac.

    A shower of confetti falls over our heads, lazy like multicoloured snowflakes.

    I barely get choked by swallowing one. The dangers of sitting between Poltergeist and Edward, the latter laughing heartily.

“It makes the same sound as breaking bones.”

    His tone being the same as the one fangirls would use to speak about their favourite idol, I disregard his comment.

“There, there, don’t die during your party, that would be a shame.” Evren pulls a cup of tea before me as he sits down, at the other side of a table filled with pastel pastries and firework sticks.

    To my surprise, I don’t even burn my tongue after taking a sip from the harlequin-painted cup. The tea is at the perfect temperature.

    I glance at Evren, an apron tightly tied around his waist. Despite the baffling choice of a white one, there’s only a single pastel blue spot, right over his heart.

“You baked all these cakes?”

“I did.” Evren replies with a sly smile, resting his cheek against his palm. Slurs are all that come to my mind. “So make sure to enjoy them.”

    Friendly slurs.

    Averting my eyes with a frown, I gaze at the other troop’s members. Fujiko wears a conical hat crowded with colourful dots, prolly without her consent. She manages to sleep in an eerie position I won’t question, for my own sanity. Remnants of.

    The director, at the corner of the table, sips a cup of tea. I tried to put aside the words he said last night but… something feels off. Maybe this time, maybe when the party ends, I’ll be able to have a real discussion with him.

    As he notices my lingering gaze, I quickly avert my eyes to glance at Longwei. Sat between the twins, he serves them pieces of a rainbowish cake. Tatsuma has a peaceful, sheepish smile as he thanks Longwei.

    I glance at his neck, but there’s almost no trace left of his wound. Despite that… his behaviour disturbs me. Where’s his natural enthusiasm?

“The person you become depends on the memories you have.” Poltergeist’s words echo in my mind.

    When Longwei takes a firework stick, trying to attract Tatsuya’s attention, the boy doesn’t react at once, his mouth half-opened as he stares into the void. But then, Longwei uses his magic to make the stick float, multiple ones beginning to dance before Tatsuya’s azure eyes. It’s enough to awaken sparkles in them.

“Is that what happens when you lose too many memories? Do you end up losing yourself?”

    I mid-close my eyes.

“Are you worried about them?” Evren asks.

“What if I am?” I passive-aggressively reply before softening a tad. Just a tad. “They seemed closer to Longwei before.”

“They were. They are, even if they don’t know it any more.” Evren glances at them, his chin now resting over his fingertips, before adding. “Bonds are something we have to endlessly recreate.”

“Is this that easy…”

“It isn’t. Once you forget what ties you to one person, you may lose your reason for staying by the side of a stranger. You’re only aware you spent time with, after all. That’s how many friendships are ruined, whether you’re a magic holder or not. But we, we’re aware it’s important.” He pauses before adding with a smile, adjusting against his nose the golden frame of his tinted glasses. “We won’t let it go that easily.”

“Slut. Shut the fuck up.” Poltergeist intrudes on the discussion with the elegance of a drunk gorilla, brandishing his empty confetti gun.

    Meanwhile, Rubeus peacefully sips an orange soda.

“I beg your pardon?” Evren’s smile widens in a not-friendly way.

“Beg it, you won’t get it.”

“Perhaps you should switch languages and speak in French. In default of decency, your voice would at least gain an exoticism making it somewhat bearable.”

“Paysan turc. Incline-toi face à ton maître.”

    Already not listening to their childish talk, I serve myself a slice of chocolate-and-walnut cake. Despite the strangeness of the situation itself, I can’t deny it for long…

    The sound of their voices filling every silence. The rude words devoid of deceit.

    I used to think that while spending time with people, the best I could do was choosing the lies I wanted to believe in. Everything sounded false, feigned courtesy they expected to be addressed back at them.

“What about roasted rabbit tonight?” Evren utters with an unchanged smile.

“I won’t rate your attempt at threatening. That would be too mean, even for me.” Poltergeist doesn’t miss a beat.

    But, by their side, food has no paper-like taste. Tea is warming, cakes are smooth, and their chocolatey flavour lingers enough to leave no choice but to take another bite.

    No one tells it, no one needs to, but they’re all glad to spend time together.

    And, even if this memory is to vanish from their minds, I will remember it for them. The smiles, the laughs, the friendly threats.

“It’s funny when you think about it,” Rubeus begins, “we’re all gathered around a table, sharing tea and banalities.”

“You’re not even drinking tea, my boy.” I interrupt with a glance at him.

“It’s a luxury for people like us, gathered to fight head-eating monsters.”

    One day I’ll interrupt him saying something that would leave him too startled to continue. Just you wait.

“How did the Clockwork Dolls Circus get created in the first place?” I ask.

“The director. Before returning to Yokohama, he travelled through the world for some time. He gathered the magic holders he met. People who had no more place to go, or who were determined to keep using magic despite the risks.”

    I guess it’s the director who taught them Japanese. With his local accent, he sure has to be from here. And they all speak it more than decently. He must have spent a lot of time teaching them.

“Why did he do all of this? He basically hid you from the police, as far as I get it. Surely he isn’t just some sort of saint. Unless… Let me guess. Tragic backstory?”

    Having finished his orange soda, Rubeus plays with the striped straw, rolling it between his index finger and his thumb. With no particular expression on his face, as usual, I’m not even able to tell if my words bothered him or if he’s debating the stake in using the hellish amount of energy needed to serve himself another glass.

“Each member of the circus has a mechanical key in their back. You included. It is a condition to join the circus. Do you remember? I told you it was to protect you.”

    Each is a lie, but I disregard.

“To protect me?”

    I didn’t even question him before. Surprisingly, being suddenly key-stabbed and made part of a dubious group playing heroes was enough of a preoccupation.

“The-”

“Look, look! I can make them sparkle again!” Tatsuya’s sudden outburst doesn’t leave Rubeus the time to elaborate.

    As we turn our heads at the twins, we take sight of Tatsuya climbing on the table. He outstretches his hands with a large smile.

“Look, Longwei!”

    A cup falls in the process, shattering on the ground. Nobody minds it, though, all eyes turned at him. Even Fujiko awakes the moment blue sparkles gather in Tatsuya’s palms.

“Please, stop! I’ll light new ones.” Longwei protests, reaching out his hand. “Tatsuya, don’t waste your mana.”

    But that’s all he gets the time to say. The bluish sparks fall from his palms to the top of the firework sticks. Soon, all of the extinguished ones twinkle again, bathing our faces in a bluish glow.

    Tatsuya’s laughs echo through the tent, but despite how beautiful his little show is, the only one to seem fascinated is Tatsuma.

    The others all fall silent, an expression of horror over their faces.

    None say anything, none add a single word as the sparks of bluish energy falling from the orange-haired boy fade away.

“Ahahahah, hahah, that’s amazing, right, Tatsu-”

    Until not a single one remains…

“Tatsu…?”

    His voice becomes a whisper, hesitant. As if trying to utter a foreign word. A word which holds no longer any meaning.

    In a blink of an eye, Tatsuya loses his footing. His body arches back, about to fall. But the moment he does, gloved hands catch him, maintaining him securely in his arms.

    The director straightens up, standing on the table. For a while, there’s no sound. He looks down at Tatsuya, not uttering a word.

    Longwei clenches his teeth, letting his arm fall back to clutch the tablecloth.

    Hoping down from the table, the director gives no explanation as he walks away.

    The firework sticks are now extinguished, all that remains is a burnt smell, grey wisps floating over the table. And a tear rolling down Tatsuma’s confused face.