Standard disclaimers apply.


By Cassandra's Destiny


For someone who says he couldn't care less, he sure seemed to care a lot. And Yukito would not let him hear the end of it.

"It's not a big deal."

"Of course," with the corner of his lips threatening to curl into a smirk, Yukito picked up from where they left off. It was a tedious game of charades for him – Touya saying this when what he really meant was that.

"It doesn't matter if the rest of the world remembered this special day, and she didn't."

The sarcasm in his tone was emptily ignored. "Right."

"And heaven knows how much of your day you are not spending over what-if's."

"…or whatnots."

Yukito nodded in response to his friend's blank comment. It was a beautiful day, and for the first time since Touya and his father set up the bird bath in the garden, cardinals and blue jays actually decided to put it to good use.

"We're not sitting on our butts in front of the TV all day, are we?" It's not that he minded lazing in front of the television set the entire day; the sight of sharing a room with an empty TV screen, with not so much as a tiny dot or speck of dirt, though, was an idea that didn't sit well with him. What was he supposed to say when Sakura asked them what they did all day? Hey, your brother and I tried to watch soccer on TV while it was turned off.

"This can't be good," he heard him say.

His natural tendency was to reply with, "what is?", although in his mind, he can list down a lot of things that were not good at all. Take the television set, for example, and that his best friend probably had his brain cells dying by the dozen.

"I'm not doing this." Was this a follow up to that thing that can't be good?

"Doing what?"

No answer; it's like he didn't even hear him.

"Too much, too much," he muttered, and Yukito got more confused.

"I'm not letting her do this to me."

Thank you for finally making sense, he thought.

When Nakuru did not call him early that morning, he suggested for him to wait. A girl might not appreciate a guy ringing her at nine in the morning to ask if she had something she wanted to say.

"I think I'm acting like I'm four," a heavy sigh escaped Touya's lips as he broke the egg shell into the pan.

Change four to three years old, then Yukito could not agree with him more.

After breakfast, on his way to the couch, he saw Touya picking up the phone. Surely, it didn't ring. And Touya's fingers pressing hard on the digits confirmed he had no hearing problems. Apparently, he was about to make a call, not receive one.

"Hello, Nakuru… well, no. Hm, she might think too formal of it. Maybe if I, no." He put the handset down, spent a few seconds staring down at it, and turned on his heel to the stairway.

After lunch, Sakura came home with balloons for her older brother. There was a brief exchange between them, but Yukito did not bother eavesdropping. Maybe having her around would cheer him up a bit.

"Look at what I got for you, oni-san!"

"This is annoying," Touya started again, his eyes finally having some life in them. "If she doesn't remember, so what? Why do I care? I mean, why should I care?"

Obviously, Yukito had answers, but he'd rather not spoil his monologue.

"It's a good day, and there are no signs of rain today. I can't believe you wanted to sit or lie around in the house watching TV, Yukito. Heck, it's not even turned on!"

His face screwed up for a moment, not for anger, but for confusion. Sure, let's point fingers and blame the guy who wasn't a fan of the all-day, all-blank channel.

"Do you want to finish the bird feed outside?"

A nod; anything he says would be taken against him, even the things he doesn't say, like "let's bum around and watch TV without turning it on first". He watched as Touya stood from the sofa, mouthing the words I'll be back. As he disappeared into the kitchen, Yukito sighed. His best friend had serious problems, or problem – specifically a female with long brown hair whose smile is undoubtedly bigger and brighter than an average person's.

When ten, fifteen minutes have passed, Yukito followed him to the kitchen. Not even an elaborate sandwich could have taken him that long, right? Besides, the little birds by the window were obviously waiting for the bird feed.

Taking a few steps pass the kitchen door, he sensed an intrusion. Whether it was by him or by another, he wasn't quite sure yet, until he took six, seven more steps looking over the dining table.

"Touya, I am really sorry I got this to you so late in the day."

His friend was stiff as a board, face blank and eyes focused on her offer. His head tilted up a bit, just in time for him to notice how worried she was, biting her lower lip like rock candy.


When Touya did not reply still, he too grew worried. True, he deemed her effect on him too much. True, he told himself that he's not letting her do that to him. It's not an excuse, though, for him to leave her there looking like a dejected teenager, a sunflower the sun refused to shine on. He wanted to tell him to treat her nicely, by a note, a call or a telepathic message, if only he had ESP. If he wasn't in the mood to see her now, at least shove her off politely.

But really, who was he kidding? He even wanted to call her in the morning just to hear those words coming out of her lips.

"Touya," she began, bracing herself in spilling her soul to him. "I tried, I tried, I tried. I really did. You know I'm not too good with baking, let alone cakes, but I'm an expert with those instant maker things." Offering him a sincere smile, she opened the box, which revealed a heart-shaped waffle with a single candle on it. "Happy birthday…"

Just like magic, his straight face was no more. For a moment, Yukito grew concerned about his friend's sexuality. Was he secretly female going through PMS? But the moment he reached across the table to cover her hand with his, he shook the thought aside (though he probably would poke fun at him for it later on).

Too much fluff, he thought. But even his friend Touya, who couldn't care less about mushy things, is licensed to act all mawkish once every year, or every four years, especially (and only) with the one female who can make him hold out his hand long enough for her to grasp it, over waffles, no less.

Yukito digressed. No use hanging around the kitchen when there's probably a more action-packed non-romantic themed show in the television, so long as he turns it on first.