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"So," Rodya's voice suddenly cut into the thick silence of tedium on the bus-slash-boat, drawing everyone's heads up from their dozing off. Including mine. I blearily blinked my 'eyes' open to look back at the subject of attention. "When's everyone's birthdays?"
"Uh... Huh? Why this all of a sudden?" Sinclair stammered out, perplexed. He had darted up particularly suddenly from his former position of resting against the window.
Rodya sighed, a dramatic and long sound to let out all the boredom she (or, really, all of us) had been feeling during our months at sea. "I dunno, I just thought about it and thought that, it might be a fun break if we had something to celebrate! Yknow~? I could use an excuse for some games and cake one of these nights..."
Huh. I'd actually never thought about everyone's birthdays before. Obviously I couldn't remember mine, anyway, but... was celebrating the team's birthdays something a proper manager was supposed to do? Faust hadn't told me to do anything...
"Fifth of May," Meursault suddenly answered, his gaze not leaving the book he'd been reading.
"Huh? Meur?"
"That is my date of birth, as you asked. The fifth of May." He repeated himself reflexively and nonchalantly. Rodya was stunned into silence at his straightforward response. She blinked a bit, almost matching the blinking flicker of a small red light on the wall.
I heard Ryoshu hum in approval as she lowered her cigarette for a moment. "5/5... A sleek date. Like mine."
"W-wait, so we actually are sharing our birthdays?" Sinclair asked quietly, though his question seemed to go completely unnoticed as Rodya had found something to remark on. I tried to give him a sympathetic glance, but without a face it was rather unsuccessful.
"Hang on, that means we missed your birthday, Meur! We've been here since, what, mid-April? We coulda celebrated it!"
This notion was enough to reactivate Don Quixote, who gasped suddenly enough to choke on her breath. "PRITHEE?! We have missed one of our own compatriots' day of birth?!" She looked genuinely close to tears.
"I do not particularly mind." Meursault did not so much as glance upward.
"Aw, but I mind! We've only got so many excuses every year to hang out and have treats!" Rodya pouted like her life depended on it.
"Yeah, though you sure find every opportunity you can to change that," Gregor snickered. "What was the last impromptu party for, anyway? 2-and-a-half-months-from-Halloween?"
"First, that was an important celebration, and second, that isn't what I'm asking about! Birthdays! Come on, everybody!"
A quiet sigh from Ishmael put a stop to Rodya's whining soon enough. "Since no one else has actually volunteered to go next, I will. August 8th. A couple weeks ago," she answered with a tired hollow smile. "Though it's been a long time since I've ever done anything for it, so I... didn't say anything."
Wait, so we missed Ishmael's birthday too? Meursault didn't seem to care about his, but I couldn't help but feel bad about Ishmael's.
<You could've told us. I think everyone would've been happy to celebrate after what you went through for your turn with the bough.>
"Ah... Yeah, you really went through the wringer out there. We wouldn't have minded doing something nice." With no cigarette in his mouth for the moment, Gregor's smile as he spoke this seemed even more earnest, though he and I got only a sheepish glance from Ishmael in return.
Well, it looked like she still wasn't ready to have something like that all for herself. No need to push her comfort zone, then. I decided to let the matter rest, turning to the rest of the Sinners...
And was surprised to hear Yi Sang speak up next (his seasickness must have been better for the moment.) "My date of birth, at the least, has not been missed in our journeys together... I celebrate that occasion on the first day of the year."
"Wait, your birthday is on new year's?" The surprise drew Ishmael right out of the nervous slump she'd pulled herself into. A few other Sinners gasped, too, seeming excited, which I quickly took note of so I could match it.
Yi Sang, though, didn't seem to find the matter very exciting. He sighed deeply. "It is naught to be envious of. On such a day, one celebration oft takes precedent over the other, and a holiday of the masses quite easily overtakes a holiday for an individual." His eyes looked haunted by what I could only assume were memories of lackluster childhood experiences.
Rodya grabbed his shoulder to butt in, "No, we're not gonna let that happen, Yi Sang! Don't you worry about it! We will be celebrating your birthday all night on the 31st, y'hear?"
"Hear, young Yi Sang! We valiant heroes shan't overlook such an occasion on thine behalf!"
Finally Yi Sang smiled a bit - an always welcome sight - before lurching his face back into the bucket on his lap. A less welcome sight. Poor guy.
"Well, er... My birthday is on November 11," Sinclair piped up. "But Rodya, what about yours?"
"Oooh, glad someone finally asked!~ September 9th for me! Pretty soon, so take note, hm?"
The Sinners seated around inside soon fell into more casual conversation. Rodya seemed to be suggesting gift ideas for her birthday, while the others questioned how they would even come upon gifts to begin with, and Gregor teased her eagerness. It was a mundanely pleasant conversation, the kind I'd normally be happy to just listen in on, but I instead found my gaze drawn to Don Quixote sitting off to the side.
"Ah... Hm... Most interesting." She was muttering, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful. Uh oh, that was never a good sign; I braced for whatever chaotic idea she was about to unleash on us. But I couldn't have been ready for what she actually said next.
"Doth all dates of birth on this bus correspond to the numbers we were assigned upon recruitment?"
Do they what?
...Wait.
<Wait.>
Sinclair, expression stricken, started frantically running through the dates- "Wait, w-wait, November 11th, May 5th, September 9th, January 1st- Oh my god, do they?!" His hands had immediately clammed up and shook as if this were a realization more distressing than any we'd come across thus far. Almost in a panic, he turned to Hong Lu, who'd been seated quietly this entire time, and asked, "Hong Lu, is your birthday June 6th?"
"Hm..." He hummed, seeming to (somehow??) need a moment to remember if this was the case. The whole room held its breath.
"Yes, I believe so! Isn't that interesting?"
And then chaos broke out on the bus. ...Slash boat.
"H-How can that be the case?! How can it be every single one of us? Did the company hire us based on this??"
"No, I thought we were hired for our ties to the golden boughs' locations! Like I was for the whale! How the hell would this line up too?"
"'Tis simply another turn of destiny!! This tale of heroes truly was fated from the beginning!"
<No, Don Quixote, I don't think that's the reason...>
"Haah, well - whatever it is, it's easy to remember, at least."
"A whole slew of elegant dates... P.L.O.B. Hoho..."
"Yes, it's a pleasing lineup of birthdates, but- but it doesn't make any sense!!"
In the clamor, Rodya of all Sinners seemed to be struck by a realization.
"Hold on... Dante is number 10! Does that mean that their birthday is on October 10th? That'd match, right? Is it, Dante?"
<I, uh...> October 10th, October 10th... I frantically ran the date through my head for any lingering sense of familiarity. Yet there was none to be found. <I don't know?>
"Oh... Haha, right, 'course." Rodya looked away and rubbed her neck, seeming genuinely sorry to have brought up the reminder of my lost memory. I moved to tell her it was fine, but-
"Hey, well, Dante... If you can't remember, then it might as well be that date, right?" I was startled into silence by Ishmael, who was speaking with a hestitant smile.
<Huh?>
"I mean, since you kinda don't have a birthday right now, in a way. We can just decide it's on October 10." Her smile gained some of her usual sarcastic confidence, then. "If you're going to be so insistent on celebrating for me, then I have to insist the same thing in return, obviously."
<Oh!> I felt my face heat up a bit, and for once actually hoped that there was no visual indication of this. <If you guys want to, then... Sure.>
Don Quixote cheered and raised her lance. "Then hark, all, our great Manager Esquire's birthday shall be on the tenth of the tenth month!! And I, Don Quixote, do declare in addition that our group shan't miss the celebration of another's date of birth again!"
"Ha, yeah! Hear, hear!" Rodya laughed brightly and high fived the enormous lance. They both smiled at everyone else, and I was sure they would've shared a toast if there were drinks around. The stuffy air, tinged with sea salt and breeze, now felt light and warm.
"Ah, but, wait..." Hong Lu mused idly through the cheering. "Isn't Gregor's number 13?"
Sinclair gasped. "It is! Gregor, wait, then what's your...?"
All eyes on the bus turned toward Gregor.
"Huh?" He fidgeted under the sudden unanimous attention, rubbing his nonhuman arm. "Oh... Uh. Yeah. My birthday's February 29th."
Rodya's resulting cackle must have echoed out to the waves for miles.