This is a story I'm writing for Kuukai's birthday; even though its in 12 days. I wrote this yesterday, so please keep that in mind as well.

Everyday this will be updated (or the chapter will be added the next day), until the day of Kuukai's birthday (August 17). And the chapters are quite short so try not to mind xD;;

So I hope you all enjoy it! If you do, review~

I do not own any part of Shugo Chara! Or its characters and I am not making any profit by loving Kuukai.

Dedicated to the absolutely amazing Kuukai Souma for being the most popular name written in my history notes for more than a year now.
Ai shiteru Kuukai-san~

x-Chapter 1-x
Writing Cards


Happy birthday dear Kuukai…
You turn 15 this year
And all I want to say…

I can't think of anything that rhymes with year.

Arisa fisted the sheet of lined paper she had laid out in front her several hours ago. The sheet had been scribbled, doodled and written on to the extent that anything previously written on the page was far from legible.

She sighed loudly, writing a birthday card shouldn't be this difficult.

Her arm stretched out in front of her and switched the table lamp off. For the first time in a few hours, she realized how dark it had suddenly gotten.

Sure, his birthday was exactly 13 days from the current day, but she didn't care. She was even trying to think of something to give him something a month before.

Several ideas she had come across was a painting, a new pair of soccer cleats (she broke a hole into his old ones), a new throw pillow (she ripped his old one) or…one of Shinyu's ideas which she flushed so ferociously at, she nearly passed out.

So that had left her final idea (and also Tsukiga's suggestion); a card.

Sure, that sounds like the simplest form of a present you could ever give anyone, and it usually isn't very special unless you put some money in it, but she was determined to make her card the best.

That's what got her into this mess.

She groaned again and lifted the paper slightly. Her eyes were tired, which caused her vision to blur.

For the past hour she had written down message after message, and doodled countless little chibis on the paper.

Though all her ideas had ended identically; she'd get fed up with it and crumble the paper up, ripping it in a few places as well.

Now, it ended up as a heavily inked piece of paper, slightly ripped and crumpled up in a ball, sitting ideally in the trash bin she shared with him.

She glanced at his sleeping body on his bed, then pulled off her socks and flopped gracefully into the mass of blankets, falling asleep.