Solitary Celebration

Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of her apartment as she opened the door. She flipped the light switch absentmindedly as she set her schoolbag on the floor. She traded school shoes for slippers, and walked into the kitchen, humming a tune to herself. She had had trouble all day concentrating on the lessons. Her mind was focused on her latest creation that she would bake after school. The teacher had reprimanded her for such absentmindedness, and though it embarrassed her slightly, she didn't mind too much.

School was finished and at last she could relax. In no time, she had set up the ingredients upon the table, along with the rest of her supplies. The oven was busy being preheated. On the counter nearby rested a large cookbook, dog eared to page 28. Her step was light as she danced around the kitchen, feeling more excited as she mentally ticked each completed step off the recipe. Into a round pan went the mix, and she lightly banged the pan on the table to make sure everything was even.

The sweet smell of vanilla filled her kitchen as she prepared the icing for the finishing touches and cut large, ripe strawberries.  Every so often, she'd twirl and smile to herself. Her heart felt light and free, and the smell was becoming intoxicating. The minutes seemed to crawl by slowly as she waited for the ding of the timer. It wasn't long before she pulled a light yellow cake from the oven. She tested it with a toothpick, and when it emerged clean, she once again set the timer, allowing the cake to cool.

Her hands stayed busy by cleaning up her mess and washing dirty dishes. She flicked her fingers to rid them of excess water after she placed the last bowl in the drainer. At least she wouldn't have much to clean up later. Glancing out the window, the soft sunset caught her attention. She smiled at the mixing of the hues. The ding of the timer brought her out of her reverie. She checked to make sure her supplies were ready, and remembered to pull a container of whipped cream from the refrigerator. She carefully removed the cake from the pan, placing it on top of a flower patterned white plate.

Skilled fingers set to work, first adding a layer of white over the entire cake. Small tear drop dollops of whipped cream encircled the edges, to which she added slices of fresh strawberries. Colorful red bands wrapped around the middle, looping up and down. Finally, she added the words to the very top of the cake. Only then did she step back to view her creation as a whole. It was a gorgeous cake, and she was certain it would taste as good as it looked.

With the cake finished, all that remained was the small details. She set a kettle to boil for tea. Then she turned around, looking for plates and forks. These were placed upon the small table I the living room, leaving a large area in the middle for the cake and tea. The whistle of the kettle called her back to the kitchen, and she prepared the tea tray. Both tray and cake plate were carried into the living room, one at a time, and placed upon the table.

Certain that everything was ready, she sat down. Her eyes roamed the cake, and once again the tune vibrated against her lips. She lit the candles she had bought- 5 red candles to match the writing of the cake. She sang softly to herself before blowing out the candles. As she did, her eyes settled beyond the cake, where she realized that she had set an extra place at the table. Immediately, her eyes dropped to her lap, her heart falling into her stomach. The joy that had filled her afternoon was suddenly gone, replaced by the empty loneliness of the apartment.

There should have been someone in that seat. There would have been this year. There never was the previous year, and she vividly recalled a similar scene. She had gotten as far as eating a bite of cake before she had lost her grip, and broken down sobbing. The cake had remained untouched after that, and ultimately trashed. A year had passed, a year in which some things had changed. Yet, she was still sitting here, alone.

It's my fault she thought. I never told anyone. I thought…I thought I would jinx it if I did. A lone tear rolled down her cheek, others threatening to follow. She knew she was to blame this year. She had forced herself to spend the day alone.

She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I won't cry," she whispered. "I won't cry." Her body betrayed her, and the tears came, just as they had before. Her soft sobbing echoed through the empty rooms. In her loneliness, she failed to hear the soft creaking of the door opening. She never moved, unaware of the person creeping up behind her.

She gasped when she felt the light snap of the elastic band under her chin, and looked up. Through blurry eyes, she caught sight of the deep maroon hair, but couldn't believe what she saw. Her hand went to the top of her head, fingers touching the thin cardboard hat. There was a large puffball at the top of it.

"Happy birthday, Mami," whispered Kyouko, leaning over to kiss Mami's cheek. "You sure know how to keep a secret."

"How did you… How did you find out?" Mami asked incredulously.

Kyouko fell to her knees beside Mami and crossed her arms. "Magic. I am a magical girl after all. Did you think my spear was only good as a weapon?"

A hint of a smile crossed Mami's splotchy red face. "You're lying."

"'Course I am. Nah, I just happened to hear one of your classmates wish you a happy birthday at school when I was walking down the hall." Kyouko didn't have to ask why Mami hadn't invited any of her schoolmates to celebrate.

"When did… you cut class again, didn't you?" Mami sniffled and rubbed her sleeve under her nose, not caring how childish it seemed.

Kyouko smirked. "Math's not my thing. Too many damn numbers."

Mami knew she should scold Kyouko, but couldn't find it in her heart to do so just then. She gestured to the cake. "Would you like a piece?"

"Do you have to ask?" Kyouko eyed the cake hungrily, looking like a lion ready to catch its prey.

Kyouko settled in across the table as Mami cut the cake. She placed a large slice on Kyouko's plate, knowing that it would be gone in no time. She felt the loneliness slipping away, and her heart felt lighter. She giggled as Kyouko took a far too large bite of cake. She ate a small piece of her own slice, before realizing she'd never taken the candles out of the cake. She plucked the stick of wax out and licked off the icing. She placed it on the side of the plate. She didn't need to make a wish this year. It had already come true.