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Ichiji thinks he should probably know what constitutes a birthday party at this point after over two decades worth of experience with the subject, and yet he finds himself at a loss for how to plan the festivities. It’s not that his birthday has never been celebrated before- god knows that the ceremonies for the princes’ birthdays in the past have been so large in scale that it was practically a kingdom-wide holiday- but without his father around to inflate the significance Ichiji finds himself reluctant to continue the tradition of an over the top celebration.
It feels awkward to throw himself a party, even if he could excuse it by saying that it’s his brothers’ birthday as well. At his core Ichiji just… really hates having people fawn over him. Maybe in the past he could’ve tolerated it and brushed off the excessive amounts of praise from soldiers and peasants, but now he just finds himself uncomfortable and even embarrassed to be the center of attention.
Was that normal? Did most people enjoy such large displays for their birthday and he was just being weirdly sensitive about it? He really doesn’t have a framework for what was the standard operating procedure for such an event and how he should react.
Eventually, after debating for far too long in the early hours of the morning, Ichiji forces himself out of bed and leaves his room to go knock on his sister’s door. He’s sure she’s awake, she’s the earliest riser of all of them, but there’s still an uncomfortable squirming feeling in his chest at the thought of asking her opinion. What if she thought his hesitation was ridiculous?
‘Actually,’ he thinks, ‘This was a bad idea.’
He turns to leave, already mentally berating himself for getting so worked up over something so insignificant in the first place, but of course that happens to be the exact moment when Reiju opens the door. She’s not as put together as she usually is, still in her dressing gown and her hair tousled from the night’s sleep, but at least it doesn’t appear that Ichiji’s woken her up. Ichiji’s not sure exactly what she sees when she looks like him, but his presence clearly unexpected enough that her lips purse with concern.
“Is everything alright?” Reiju asks. For a moment Ichiji just stands there like a statue, not sure what to say now that Reiju is actually in front of him. She begins to look more concerned at his prolonged silence, “Ichiji…?”
“It’s my birthday,” Ichiji blurts before he can think. He quickly amends, “Our birthday.”
Her eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline. “It is…” she draws out the words, still obviously baffled by her brother’s behavior. “Happy birthday?” The words pitch upward in a clear question.
All at once Ichiji feels like a stupid kid standing outside his parent’s room, but he forces himself to soldier on. “I don’t know what to do.”
“For your birthday?” Reiju asks.
Ichiji nods. “Is it wrong if I don’t want to celebrate?”
Even asking feels oddly selfish. After all, it’s not just his birthday. Niji and Yonji also have the right to enjoy the traditional festivities on their shared birthday, even if Ichiji’s not inclined to. If Ichiji just declared that there was no celebration this year it’d probably be some kind of abuse of power, wouldn’t it? Or national disappointment?
“You don’t want to celebrate?” Reiju says, clearly trying find a hold on the unexpected conversation, “Why not?”
“I just… I hate all the ceremony to it,” Ichiji admits. “It’s irritating, stuffy, and lasts all day. I just want today to be normal. But I don’t want to ruin anything if Niji and Yonji enjoy it.”
Reiju gives him a searching look. “Have you always disliked the celebrations on your birthday?”
“I think they’re excessive,” Ichiji says, “They’re a waste of funds, and there’s no need to makes such a big production of it.”
“Yes, I do imagine being paraded around the kingdom would get old,” Reiju says wryly. She’s speaking from experience considering her own birthday was as much of a grand production.
Perhaps when he was younger Ichiji enjoyed the festivities, getting dressed up with his brothers and driven around in the fancy coach while people tossed flower petals and confetti at them, but now thinking about doing as much made Ichiji want to lock himself in his room and not leave until the day had passed. Beyond embarrassing, it just sounded exhausting.
“Well, you don’t have to continue the normal festivities if you don’t want to,” Reiju says, “That’s one of the benefits of being king.”
Ichiji frowns. “But Niji and Yonji-“
“Have you asked them how they feel?” Reiju cuts him off. She takes Ichiji’s silence as an answer. “You should talk to them. Maybe they want the celebration, maybe they don’t. You’ll never know until you speak with them yourself.”
Not for the first time, his sister is frustratingly right. Ichiji’s going to have to bite the bullet if he wants any solid answers, though he feels ridiculous asking his brothers in the first place.
“Fine,” he says.
She smiles. “You’ll figure it out.”
Reiju shuts the door then, leaving Ichiji alone in the hall. He grits his teeth and drags his feet over to the door marked with a heavy black ‘4’. Ichiji internally tells himself not to be a coward before lifting his hand and knocking.
He hears someone inside shuffling (and possibly tripping over something) before the door opens seconds later. Yonji blinks blearily at him, hair still a wild bird’s nest and clothes messily wrinkled from sleep.
“What the hell, Ichiji?” Yonji groans, “It’s like ass o’ clock in the morning.”
“It’s barely half an hour before you usually wake up,” Ichiji says, referring to his internal clock for confirmation.
Yonji rolls his eyes. “Fine. What do you want?”
“It’s our birthday,” Ichiji begins.
“Huh? Oh yeah, I guess it is,” Yonji crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. “Honestly, I totally forgot. I guess we have stuff to do then?” He sounds distinctly unenthused by the thought, which bolsters Ichiji’s confidence in asking.
“Did you want to have the traditional birthday celebration?”
“What?” Yonji blinks.
“Did you want to do what we normally do?” Ichiji clarifies. “Because frankly I don’t wish to go through the process of organizing all of it.”
Yonji goggles at him. “Are we allowed to not do it?”
“Judge isn’t here anymore,” Ichiji says, surprising even himself with the bluntness of his words. “We can do whatever we want.”
For a second Yonji just seems to absorb Ichiji’s words, the cogs in his brain chugging to life before he breaks out in a wide grin. “Hey, you’re right! We don’t have to do all that stupid procession stuff anymore!” His eyes widen, “Wait, can we keep the luncheon though? I really want the food…”
Ichiji can’t help the smirk that crosses his face. “Of course that’s what you’d be concerned about.”
“I don’t care about the rest of that frilly shit,” Yonji says, waving a hand, “And I really don’t want to have to make a speech this year.”
Ichiji grimaces, having forcibly repressed thinking about the damn birthday speeches. “I can’t say I want to either. But I also haven’t asked Niji yet.”
Yonji laughs, loud and obnoxious. “You really think Niji of all people is gonna want to stand on ceremony?”
“Now that you say it…” Ichiji mutters.
Of the three of them Niji had always been the one most easily bored at formal events. It never took long before the other was either yawning, trying to annoy Ichiji and Yonji by jabbing them in the side, or winking at any nearby ladies. If any of them was going to say to throw ceremony out the window, it was probably Niji.
“Let’s go ask him right now,” Yonji says, before Ichiji can interject. Yonji takes a few long strides over to Niji’s door and bangs his fist on it. “Niji! Yo, Niji! Wake up, asshole!”
“Fuckin’ shut up!” Niji’s voice filters through the door. An instant later the door flies open to reveal a very disheveled, very angry Niji. Though he’s still in his pajamas, Ichiji’s pretty sure the other is seconds away from electrocuting Yonji for daring to wake him up. “What the fuck is your problem?!”
“It’s our birthday!” Yonji says, spreading his arms wide with the most shit-eating grin Ichiji has ever seen.
“That’s what you woke me up for?!” Niji bellows, “Are you fucking five?!”
“No, I’m four,” Yonji says, gesturing to the number printed on his shirt. “But that’s not the point! Happy birthday, big brother!”
Niji gags and recoils like Yonji is some kind of poisonous sea slug. “What the hell has gotten into you?!” He glances around, and his eyes quickly land on Ichiji. “Did you put him up to this, you bastard?”
“Yonji has taken the initiative to wish you a happy birthday,” Ichiji says, outwardly schooling his face into a gravely serious expression. “The polite thing to do is return the greeting.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Ichiji internally smirks. “You should wish me a happy birthday too.”
“What?!”
“It’s very easy,” Ichiji says, “Here, I’ll start for you. Happy-”
“Like hell! Get the fuck out of here!” Niji goes to slam the door, but Yonji shoves it open before he can. Niji scowls and still tries to slam the door anyway.
“You’re not making my birthday very happy, Niji,” Yonji says, pretending to be upset.
“We all have the same birthday, asshole, and if I want to be shitty on it, then I damn well will be!” Niji spits.
“Alright, this isn’t actually the reason we came to speak with you,” Ichiji says, letting the bit drop.
“Huh?” Niji says suspiciously, though at least he isn’t still trying to hit Yonji with the door, so that’s something.
“We wanted to ask if you still wanted the festivities for our birthday,” Ichiji says.
“What do you mean?” Niji asks.
“Do you want to get the carriage out and dress up and all that stuff,” Yonji says.
“Fuckin’ hell no!” Niji says, rolling his eyes, “I always hated doing that! The only good part of that day was the food!”
Yonji beams. “That’s what I said!”
“So then we’re aligned,” Ichiji says, inordinately relieved, “I’ll make sure the servants know to cancel all the usual ceremonies. Aside from the luncheon.” He adds the last part when he sees Yonji’s mouth opening.
“Cool!” Yonji gives them both a thumbs up, “I’m going back to bed now. Later, losers!” He darts back into his room and slams the door.
“You could’ve just asked us at breakfast,” Niji sighs.
“I thought it was important to have this settled before any preparations were wasted,” Ichiji says.
Niji squints at him, clearly cutting through Ichiji’s bullshit. “You’ve been thinking about this all night, haven’t you?”
“That’s not important,” Ichiji deflects.
Niji snorts. “Yeah, whatever. You must really hate your birthday.”
“I don’t hate it,” Ichiji denies, “I just don’t see the point in having such a big celebration for it.”
“We are princes, you know,” Niji says, “Most kingdoms celebrate their rulers’ birthdays. Granted we probably went more all out than most, but it’s not uncommon. Have you always hated the ceremonies?”
“I just think they’re unnecessary,” Ichiji maintains.
“Fine, keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll actually have a good time this year then,” Niji laughs.
“I’ve had a good time before,” Ichiji mutters.
“Yeah?” Niji actually sounds surprised, “When? We’ve been doing these stupid celebrations as long as I can remember.”
“There was that time… Never mind,” Ichiji shakes his head, “I have to go talk with the servants.” He turns to leave.
Niji groans behind him as Ichiji continues down the hall. “You’re like a damn rock, you know that, Ichiji? The only way anyone’s gonna figure out what’s going on inside you is if they hit you with a fucking hammer.” He hears Niji’s door close a second later.
He’s fine with that, Ichiji thinks. No one really needs to know what’s going on in his head. Even he can’t parse through it half the time. And besides, there are some memories that are best kept to himself.
“Happy birthday, sweethearts!” Sora says, beaming at her sons.
Today they’ve been allowed the rare opportunity to visit their mother without Judge’s supervision. Ichiji had later learned that it was one of the few demands that Sora had made that Judge had actually honored. At the moment though, Ichiji and his brothers have been dropped off in their mother’s room at the medical ward right after lunchtime.
They all scramble onto her bed, careful not to accidentally land on her as she does her best to wrap her arms around all of them. Sanji’s quick to snuggle close and Ichiji is the most reluctant, but that does nothing to deter her from squeezing them tight. Ichiji grunts at the contact and then flushes when he hears a familiar snapping noise, head shooting up to glare at Reiju who’s standing in the corner with a wicked grin on her face and a camera in her hands.
“Don’t take any pictures!” Ichiji says, and he’s not whining. Reiju sticks her tongue out at him before snapping another photo of his scrunched up face. “Stop it!”
He makes to get out of the bed and rip the camera out of his sister’s hands, but his mom just laughs and holds him tightly so that he can’t get away. Though Ichiji knows he could easily break her hold, he settles back sullenly at her side.
His mother is smiling as she lifts a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I asked Reiju to take some photos of your visit today, Ichiji. I just want to remember how big my boys are getting. Is that okay?”
Ichiji crosses his arms, and pretends to think about it, but eventually mutters, “Fine.”
“Thank you,” Sora says with no small amount of humor at Ichiji’s grudging acceptance. She looks over his brothers and says, “Goodness, you really are all getting big! Soon you won’t fit up here anymore!”
She laughs, but her words make Sanji look honestly distressed. “We won’t?”
“Now, now,” she rubs Sanji’s back, “You can still visit me anytime though. We’ll just have to pull up a chair for you!”
Sanji beams widely, and Ichiji wonders how he can do it so easily. In the privacy of his own room Ichiji’s tried to practice smiling a few times in his mirror, but he thinks they all come out looking wrong somehow. They’re nothing like Sanji’s, a thought that made him particularly irritated when it had crossed his mind. He’d quickly abandoned the idea as stupid and learned how to make his scowls more intimidating instead.
Now though he tries again, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
“What are you doing with your face?” Niji asks, poking the edges of Ichiji’s mouth.
Ichiji drops back into a frown. “Nothing.”
“You looked weird,” Yonji adds.
“Shut up!”
“Ichiji, don’t tell your brothers to shut up,” Sora sighs, “And Niji and Yonji, don’t say mean things about Ichiji’s appearance.” She gives Ichiji a sad look, almost like she knows what he’d been trying to do and also known it wasn’t possible. The look is gone before long though, and Sora breaks out into another grin. “We should all be celebrating today! I had Époni help me bake you a cake!”
Her attendant emerges then, a small round cake in her hands. It’s decorated with strawberries, blueberries, and banana slices and it has five pink candles stuck around the edges.
“Unfortunately we didn’t think it’d taste good with peas stuck in it,” their mother says, patting Yonji’s head consolingly, “But we did make the batter green, so the cake is green on the inside.
“It’s okay,” Yonji says, like he’s making a major concession.
“So gracious,” Sora’s eyes crinkle up in mirth.
His mother and her attendant are quick to sing for them, and before long the four boys are blowing out the candles together and having the cake handed out on paper plates with wooden forks.
Ichiji knows this cake is nowhere near the enormous one that he’s sure will be displayed at their birthday celebration later that evening (that one is usually four or five layers tall and covered in syrups, fruits, and all manner of decorations), but it’s still delicious and features his favorite food, so Ichiji’s not complaining. He’s also not complaining that the slice he gets has a small icing heart in bright red on it, though he’ll never admit that part out loud.
“Here.” Ichiji looks up to see Sanji has scooted next to him at some point. “You like strawberries, right?” He pushes the strawberries from his plate onto Ichiji’s.
Ichiji’s face screws up, ready to berate his younger brother for daring to do something their father would no doubt label ‘a pathetic display of weakness’. Sanji tenses, clearly sensing what’s about to happen, but Ichiji pauses, glancing at their mother’s face. She’s smiling at them, like them sharing is everything she’s ever wanted.
Ichiji bites his lip. “…Thanks.”
Sanji beams at him then, as if Ichiji’s just given him the world and not just accepted a few strawberries. Deep down they both know that the truce will only last until they’re no longer in their mother’s presence, but for the moment they both pretend that this is how it always is. Oddly, Ichiji can’t find it in himself to be too mad about it. Strawberries are his favorite after all.
“K-King Ichiji!” A servant stutters, as Ichiji approaches him. “What can we do for you? I-I’m afraid the ceremonies are still being-!”
“Cancel them,” Ichiji says.
“W-what?” The man boggles at Ichiji.
“Cancel the festivities,” Ichiji repeats. “Except for the luncheon. We won’t be holding the procession or recognition ceremony.”
“Your Majesty, are you…?” The man trails off, clearly not wanting to question the king but still dumbfounded.
“I’m certain,” Ichiji says. “Cancel them all.”
“R-right away, Your Majesty!” He bows and scurries off.
Ichiji turns on heel, satisfied. He’s about to head back to his room to finish getting ready for the day when a thought suddenly strikes him and he changes direction. His feet take him down the familiar path through the corridors and toward the doors to the outside. He wonders if his mother’s albums are still in her room. He wonders if his siblings might want to look at them as well.
“Make a wish!” Sora says, before clapping as they blow out the candles. “Great job! Let’s have some cake!”
“What’d you wish for?” Yonji asks Ichiji as the cake is being doled out. Ichiji shrugs in response.
“Don’t even ask, Yonji,” Niji laughs, “Ichiji probably doesn’t have anything he wants.” Ichiji frowns slightly, but doesn’t see the point in disagreeing.
“Did you really not wish for anything?” Sanji asks, looking concerned.
“I did,” Ichiji says, refusing to elaborate further.
There’s a few minutes where his brothers all try to guess what he wished for, but they quickly lose interest after their mother tells them that if they reveal their wishes they won’t come true. Ichiji’s glad for the distraction, if only because he’s not fond of being the center of attention.
“I do hope your wish comes true though,” Sora says, smiling.
Ichiji nods. “Me too.”
In all honesty, he hadn’t wished for anything. His head had gone blank looking at the flickering flames, and he’d just glanced around at his brothers and their pinched expressions with their eyes squeezed shut and mouths screwed up as they wished for… well, whatever they had wished for. When they’d blown out the candles, he hadn’t had anything in mind.
Ichiji was content to just keep sitting with his family for another year.