"Sometimes, happiness isn't measured by how many days are left, but by the people who count them with you."
Morning had barely broken when someone pounded on my bedroom door with enough enthusiasm to wake the entire neighborhood.
"Three days!" Zero shouted from the hallway, his voice muffled by the wooden door. "Ate! Three days!"
I groaned and buried my face deeper into my pillow, stubbornly pretending I hadn't heard a thing.
Another series of knocks rattled the door.
"Ate!"
Still refusing to move, I pulled the blanket over my head and muttered, "If this house is on fire, tell it to wait until eight."
"It can't wait!" Zero protested immediately.
"Then tell it to leave a message," I replied, my voice muffled beneath the blanket.
The doorknob turned, and the door creaked open just enough for Zero to poke his head inside. His hair stuck up in every direction, as if he'd lost a battle with his pillow, while excitement practically glowed in his bright eyes. If happiness ever took human form, it would probably look exactly like my fourteen-year-old brother at seven in the morning.
"You forgot, didn't you?" he accused, narrowing his eyes at me.
I cracked one eye open and stared at him sleepily. "Forgot what?"
Zero placed a hand dramatically over his chest and gasped as though I'd committed the greatest betrayal imaginable.
"My birthday!"
I blinked once.
"...It's today?"
His jaw dropped.
"No!"
"Tomorrow?" I guessed, sitting up slowly as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
"No!"
I frowned in exaggerated confusion.
"Then why are you waking me up?"
"Because it's in three days!" he exclaimed, throwing three fingers into the air like he was announcing a national holiday. "Three days, Ate!"
For a long moment, I simply stared at him.
Then I reached for the pillow beside me and tossed it straight at his face.
"You woke me up for a countdown?"
He caught the pillow with surprising ease and hugged it to his chest, flashing an unapologetic grin.
"A very important countdown."
I let out a defeated sigh.
"You're unbelievable."
"I know," he replied proudly.
Despite myself, I laughed.
Only Zero could treat his birthday like New Year's Eve.
While I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to tame my hopelessly messy hair with my fingers, Zero wandered around my room with his hands clasped behind his back, looking around as though he were inspecting a museum exhibit.
"You cleaned," he observed after a moment.
"I did."
He looked at me suspiciously. "Voluntarily?"
"I know." I shrugged. "Shocking."
"Hmm." I glanced at him.
"What?" He squinted at me.
"You only clean like this when you're hiding something."
"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." His gaze swept across the room, examining every corner with surprising seriousness.
Then his eyes landed on my drafting table.
My heartbeat skipped.
Just beneath a stack of tracing paper, the edge of a blue gift bag peeked out.
Before he could take another step, I casually moved in front of the table, folding my arms as naturally as I could manage.
"What?" I asked, lifting an innocent eyebrow.
Zero narrowed his eyes.
"You're blocking something."
"I'm standing."
"Suspiciously."
"I didn't know standing could be suspicious."
"It can," he replied without hesitation, "when it's you."
I bit back a smile and refused to move.
Zero stepped to his left.
I mirrored him.
He leaned to the right. I leaned right as well.
For several ridiculous seconds, we shuffled back and forth across the room like two dancers who had completely forgotten the music.
Finally, Zero stopped and sighed dramatically.
"You're hiding something."
"I'm hiding my patience."
He opened his mouth to argue again, but Mama's voice floated upstairs before he could.
"Breakfast is ready!"
The smell of garlic fried rice, sweet tocino, and freshly brewed coffee drifted into my room, instantly replacing Zero's curiosity with a much stronger motivation.
His stomach let out a loud growl.
He looked down at it with complete betrayal.
"...Traitor." A laugh escaped before I could stop it.
"Come on." Still eyeing me suspiciously, Zero shuffled toward the door. Before leaving, he shot one last glance toward my drafting table.
"I'll figure it out," he muttered.
I smiled as I followed him into the hallway.
"Good luck."
❦ End of Chapter Five ❦
— IamPrecious —