Work Text:
-1
The day Ramuda was released from the basement of Chuuohku, it was Valentine’s Day; a day of supposed love and sweets. As he walked around the Shibuya main street, he could see couples showing off their relationships. Winter was still fresh in the air, but the sickeningly sweet smell of love around him made the weather stiflingly warm. Pulling the pink scarf around him tighter, Ramuda walked down the street eyeing the sweets stores and the people lining up to buy some in the spirit of the holiday.
They looked so happy, buying their diabetes-filled entertainment without actually needing them while there he was, sucking on his life-support. The candy in his mouth cracked under the pressure of sharp teeth but he reigned himself in, it’s not the time to be envious of humans of all things. Who cares?
So, steeling his mask into a wide smile, returning to the façade of a happy-go-lucky young man, he wandered deeper into Shibuya.
+1: Samatoki Aohitsugi
Samatoki has never been an emotionally driven person, everyone all the way from Yokohama to Nagoya can attest to that. But the thing about Samatoki is that when he cares, he cares. In his own emotionally stunted way, of course. Back in his TDD days, Ramuda saw the usually gruff-looking Samatoki helping an old woman with her groceries while grumbling all the way, saying things like ‘why are you carrying heavy things?!’ and ‘go get some help next time!’ and later rewarded with sweet pats on his cheeks from said old woman. Though he did snarl when he spotted Ramuda watching—laughing at—him from a safe distance; the chase that followed was almost entirely expected.
Once TDD falls apart, he didn’t really keep in touch with Samatoki apart from the usual bumping into each other on the streets and 5 minutes of small talk. There wasn’t anything hostile in their interaction aside from the usual Samatoki-ness. That’s why when a box of chocolate and candies of his favorite kind arrived in his office with a card, “Be grateful,” he couldn’t hold the urge to laugh. After all, there’s only one person so rude as to send him gifts under the false pretense of a burden. If later his text to the Katen-gumi’s wakagashira thanking him for the gifts was left on read, well, he took no offense at all. After all, said wakagashira is a busy man.
+2: Ichiro Yamada
Despite how violent the fall apart of TDD was, Ramuda still liked to think that he and Ichiro remained friends. A bond standing on its last leg, holding onto a piece of a worn pedestal, maybe? But he’s not the one with silver tongue here. Even after their group disbanded, Ichiro and he still keep in contact regularly, mostly when the designer needed some help from Ichiro’s Yorozuya Yamada be it intelligence or just an extra pair of hands on one or the other fashion show he’s hosting at the moment.
“Hello, Ichiro☆!” Ramuda greeted when his phone showed Ichiro’s caller ID. Ichiro’s voice then greeted him from the other line, cheerful, “Happy birthday, Ramuda!” it’s easy to imagine Ichiro Yamada’s trademark grin, all wide row of teeth and crinkling eyes. “thank you soooooo much, Ichiro-kun~ ♡♡ Waaaa I’m so happy you remembered! ☆” Ichiro sounded rather shy when he replied, “Well yeah, I mean, it’s hard not to when yours coincide with the damn Valentine’s day,” and then he laughed.
“Lucky me then!♡ Anyways, are you calling just to tell me that?”
“Well, not entirely. I thought we should celebrate. I got 2 coupons for ramen in Ogikubo, you know the fish broth one?”
Ramuda thought for a second, he does know that place. It’s still incredibly famous even now, with people lining up to eat there or reserving a seat a week beforehand.
“I only got two coupons and taking one of my brothers is just out of the question, so I thought hey let’s treat the birthday boy!” Ramuda pouted at the notion of him being a boy, “I’m not a boy, Ichiro-kun! I’m a fully grown man!!” Ichiro laughed again from the other line and asked, “Well? What do you think?” He won’t refuse of course, not when it sounds so fun! “Well, ramen doesn’t really fit my image but I haven’t been there in a while so let’s go let’s go!☆☆”
The leader of the Ikebukuro division laughed happily before nodding, “Okay then I’ll see you there in say, 2 hours or so?” Ramuda agreed and decided to tidy himself up a bit before going.
The lunch with Ichiro wasn’t a long affair. They met, they talked while they eat, occasionally people will take a photo of them and once they’re done, he thanked Ichiro for the invitation and they hugged before parting ways. Even with their bond on its last leg, it’s still sturdy whenever they tugged on it.
3 + 4: Gentaro Yumeno and Dice Arisugawa
For someone who supposedly thrives under showers of attention, Ramuda never actually made a fuss about his birthday. Ever since his birthday was made public in his TDD days, he’s never received anything short of a gift, from elaborate packages sent to his office to videos from fans on the internet. It’s always made him happy, of course, after all his beloved onee-sans cared enough about him that they’d taken some time out of their schedule to spoil him with gifts and a litany of congratulations.
But he never really went out there and yelled “Onee-sans! It’s my birthday you know!!!♡” he didn’t really care and usually he wouldn’t, if not for the two people sitting on his dining table, forcing him to sit and blow the candles on the birthday cake they (and by they, it means Gentaro) had bought.
“You guys~!” Ramuda had whined but not without a wide smile on his face. “I’m not some kid!” he protested when Dice strapped a birthday hat unto his head and laughed, “you sure ‘bout that? You look happy though!” Gentaro chuckled softly, lighting the candles on his cake, “Look at how fast he has grown, Dice, darling. Our child!” he dramatically swooned and fake-cried, drawing only a grumbly pout from the pink-haired rapper and a loud laugh from the blue-haired gambler. “I’m nobody’s child!” he managed to insist but then ceased once his friends started to clap and sing that ridiculous “happy birthday” song they should only sing to children below 8.
Ramuda hesitated for a second before giving up and blew on the candles. Once they all die out Dice insisted he makes a wish and with a quiet grumble Ramuda made his wish. His teammates must have deemed it enough as they cut into the cake; a monstrosity of pink and yellow and hearts with the filling of chocolate marzipan and caramel making the thing a lethal weapon for people with diabetes.
Once the cake was divided between the three of them, Gentaro pulled his book out, “Shall I write you a short story of the love-filled protagonist during his birthday for you, dear leader? Trust me it’s of no trouble for a talented author such as I,” he gave Ramuda that amused smile that he gave everyone once he’s sated from teasing. Though before Ramuda himself can accept or refuse the offer, Dice settled his lucky dice on the table and grinned, “And you can roll from my lucky dice! If you get double sixes, this year’s going to be a lucky year for you!!” he exclaimed boldly as he always does when it comes to his games.
“Later, you guys~ I want cake!☆ Cake!☆ Cake!☆” the birthday boy, unsuitable as it is, squirmed in his seat, fists banging on the glass table. The other two decided to join their leader eating the cake even though both members of the fling posse had to grimace at the sugary attack on their tongues. Their humble little party continued on well to the evening, and while his teammates were busy bickering over one or the other matter, Ramuda silently rolled Dice’s aptly named ‘Lucky Dice’ and smiled softly at the double sixes staring back at him.
+5: Jinguji Jakurai
The morning of the 15th, Ramuda strolled languidly into his office building as he always does, lollipop dangling between his lips. “Good morning~!” he greeted the receptionists cheerfully as the two women smiled back at him. “Good morning, Ramuda-kun,” they replied in unison. Before the pink-haired designer could disappear into his office one of the two women called out to him, “Oh wait! Someone dropped by this morning and left this for you.”
She reached out from under her table and pulled out a medium-sized bouquet of pink camellias. It even came with a card that he knew without even reading the hand-writing in the card where—or rather who—it’s from. Careful hands reached out to cradle the bouquet close to his chest, smelling the sweet smell of freshly-cut flowers. The look the two women gave him surely meant for him to ask ‘who is it from?’ but he didn’t. He didn’t need their confirmation. When Ramuda did open the card, only one sentence was written there, a standard:
“Happy birthday, Ramuda Amemura.”
There can only be one person that could show such a sweet yet stiff gesture. Plucking the card from the bouquet, Ramuda gave the bouquet back to the receptionist, “Throw it in the trash for me, would you, please~ I don’t like camellias~” and then left, practically skipping his steps towards his office.
Every year a bouquet of pink camellias would come to his office, hand-delivered.
Every year Ramuda refused to ask who it’s from.
Every year he threw it to the trash can where it can’t look at him.
Every year he put the birthday card in his drawer to remind himself that he’s not yet forgotten; and that in itself is worth enjoying his birthdays a little bit more.