#bakutae

not because baku woke up early, not because it's going to be scorching in the afternoon, not because he keeps thinking about the upcoming new school year. this day, august eighth, is going to be draining because it's baku's birthday.

he'd loved to sleep a few hours longer—he always took joy in waking up at 10 am on the weekends when he was younger. being a child, who's carefree (or chooses to be carefree) was humin's favourite memory from childhood. back then, what mattered the most was sleeping as long as possible before his father would scream at him to 'finally move his ass'.

but then, growing up happened. the clueless child he once was had disappeared, left no trade, and baku had no other choice than to become a responsible, mature, grown-up man at the age of ten. or eleven. or, perhaps, eight.

a birthday. what an odd occasion.

when people are just children, birthdays are said to be the most important day in their lives. everyone talks about throwing surprise parties, getting tons and tons of beautiful gifts ans wishes, and spending a lovely time with friends and family. and these poor children dream of experiencing this type of birthday someday because it sounds so cool, so nice, and so happy.

they wait impatiently. they count down the days until their birthday, praying for it to be magical. and some celebrate birthday like this every year, some once in their life, and some—never.

baku waited, too. until one day, he just stopped caring.

he has never had a birthday like that—no parties with friends and family, no expensive gifts that he remembers for a lifetime, no wonderful memories. humin, every year, spends august eighth wishing it never existed at all. it wasn't the idea of getting older that scared him, no. it was a matter of not feeling loved enough, even on that one day, which was supposed to be the happiest in his whole life.

instead of warm wishes, there was screaming and nagging from his father. instead of lovely gifts, there was a lot of work at the restaurant.

but today... today...

today is different.

humin got as fast as he could to the basketball court. gotak has sent him a message that some thugs from a different school appeared and started a fight. well, baku couldn't allow that—no one's going to mess with eunjang!

when he finally arrived at the basketball court, catching his breath from all that running, he saw no one around. it was empty—no trade of gotak, sieun or juntae, or even the guys who wanted to start a mess. humin stood there dumb-founded, all alone. and when he was about to take out his phone and call his friend to explain himself, baku heard something, he hadn't heard in a while.

"happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear huminie, happy birthday to you."

oh. how baku's heart ached in that moment.

his friends have prepared the most beautiful gift for him. and no, it wasn't about the deliciously looking chocolate cake in gotak's hands. it wasn't about the sloppily wrapped birthday gift sieun was holding. it wasn't about the colourful balloons juntae struggled to hold.

their smiley faces. joy in their voices as they sang. excitement in their eyes because their little surprise worked.

"happy birthday, baku!" gotak says cheerfully. "we're so happy you took the bait about the fight!"

"we didn't know what else we could say to make you leave your house..." juntae laughs nervously.

humin tries his best not to tear up. he can't really hear what his friends are saying because there's just too much happening inside baku's weak heart. his heartbeat fastened, his chest felt tight and heavy, his eyes got watery, and he couldn't find the right words.

because a simple 'thank you' wasn't enough.

"here," sieun hands him the wrapped gift, "from us. hope you'll like it."

"sorry, it's nothing expensive," gotak admits, remorseful.

baku unwrapped the paper. his hands are suddenly so shaky, and it takes him a bit longer to rip the paper. still, not a word left his mouth, as he's too touched to speak. never ever—not even in his dreams—he expected to experience such lovely thing.

what they got him was an album.

with, mostly, photos of the four of them, but also some of him with gotak, him with juntae, him with sieun. there were also some solo photos of each of them—gotak playing basketball, sieun studying while listening to music, juntae reading manga.

watching the photos, humin let out a shaky breath. suddenly, he remembered each of the captured moments, and even though most of these situations had taken place some time ago, baku had the impression all of them happened just yesterday.

before he realised, his eyes got teary, and he let these tears fall down his cheeks.

"hey... are the photos that awful?" hyuntak asks carefully. baku's reaction took him by surprise. "ah! i knew it was an embarrassing idea!"

all three of his friends are clearly a bit upset their gift turned out to be a total catastrophe. a photo album—what exactly were they thinking? this isn't something teenage boys would like to get on their birthdays. maybe they should have asked baku what he'd like to get, but then, there'd be no surprise, no excitement. but a mere photo album? that works for nostalgic kids!

"no," baku sniffles, his voice weak and shaky. "it's perfect."

he wraps his hands around the album tightly, afraid it may fall down and get destroyed. it'd be such a shame if something happened to his precious gift—after all, he got it from his friends—his family?—and baku should treasure it.

children believe birthdays are the most important day in their lives. they dream of throwing parties, inviting their best friends, getting tons and tons of beautiful gifts and wishes. these poor children dream of experiencing this type of birthday someday because it sounds so cool, so nice, and so happy.

they wait impatiently for their birthday, counting down the days, and praying for it to be magical. and some celebrate birthday like this every year, some once in their life, and some—after long years of waiting.