Page 242 of Mercy Written in Blood

"Do you celebrate other people's birthdays?"

"Occasionally."

"Akiko's?"

"Yes."

"Every year?"

"When she permits it."

"Kael's?"

"He claims not to know when it is."

"Hiroshi would celebrate his for a month."

"Hiroshi celebrates Thursdays."

"That isn't a denial."

Renji took another bite. Haruki watched him chew.

"You remember theirs," he said.

"They are alive."

The words landed quietly. Haruki's hand tightened around his chopsticks.

"So are you."

Renji's expression did not change.

"That is not what I meant."

"I know."

The dead had birthdays. Haruki understood that. Dates marked by absence. A cake no longer made. A season arriving without the person who once belonged to it. Renji had survived so many people that perhaps his own birthday had become another memorial — a count not of years lived but of years since everyone who once celebrated him disappeared.

"How did your family mark it?" Haruki asked.

Renji's eyes lowered.

"It varied."

"That means you remember."

"I did not say I didn't."

"You said you forgot the date."

"I lost track of the day."

"That's different?"

"Yes."

Haruki waited. Renji sighed. The sound carried resignation rather than anger.