A One-Time Gift

Author: Inuya Kowu Honbu

Episode 1 Top Page

☆ Thank you very much for using our service!

Our website’s “Birthday Registration” congratulates you on your birthday! ☆

♪～

Happy Birthday To You

Happy Birthday To You

Happy Birthday, Dear—

You There!

A familiar birthday song. The site uses that music as its background music.

A suspicious, suspicious homepage. That would be anyone’s first impression, right?

Pop colors and a cute illustration of a cake with lit candles.

The name of the site is “Birthday Registration”. As the name suggests, it is an online shopping site you could use by registering your name and birthday. However, this site was special—you could only use it once in your entire life. Probably no one would use it.

However, there are people out there who are drawn to such trivial, pointless things. Quite a few people probably registered half-jokingly and then forgot all about it.

☆ Now, why don’t you register too?

Just once in your life, let our site give you a birthday present!

The price is your ☆

Episode 2 – For example, the case of Mr. A

~Golden Partner~

I have an older brother and an older sister. They always treat me like a child. Mom and dad say, “They just find you unbearably cute”, but I’m a proper young lady too, you know?

One time, Dad’s computer was left on. I thought, since I’m a young lady, I should close it for him!

And then. On the screen, there was a picture of a cute cake with candle flames flickering. And also, the birthday song. I could hear it.

How lovely! I couldn’t help but smile.

I can’t read difficult characters yet, but it looks like I need to write my birthday and name.

A birthday means a birthday present! Yes, I’m sure I’ll get a present!

Thinking that, I typed in my birthday and my name.

After that, Mom called me for snack time, so I closed the computer, and that was that.

Years passed, and I became a young woman.

It’s a delicate age when you grow taller and taller, where you’re almost, but not quite, an adult woman.

I had forgotten that such a strange thing had happened in Dad’s room long ago. No. I didn’t even have the luxury of remembering it.

A few years ago. We had an accident on a family trip. A bus collision. Because I was small, my family protected me and I was saved. Mom, Dad, older brother, and older sister. They all died. They all tried to save me, using their own bodies as cushions.

Now. I really hate going home. The house used to be so lively, that house that echoed with my family’s voices, now has no one’s voice to be heard.

Even so, I go back to the house where they all lived.

My relatives and grandparents come to check on me from time to time, so I’m not having any difficulties.

It’s okay. Yeah. I’m okay.

I have to go home again today.

That’s right, today is my birthday. A lonely birthday with no one around.

I should just hurry home and get into bed.

I arrived home with that in mind and was about to unlock the front door.

There was a cardboard box near the mailbox. A cute little box, wrapped prettily with a ribbon.

What is it? When I bent down to get a better look.

Rattle

Rattle rattle

Whine, whine

Suddenly, the box moved. An animal’s sound came from inside.

My face twitched involuntarily. But if there is an animal inside, I have to let it out, poor thing.

I untied the ribbon, unwrapped, and opened the box.

Inside was a cute little puppy. He jumped on me as soon as I opened it, and it was just too cute.

A cute golden retriever puppy. There was a message card in the box with that puppy.

It had my name, my birthday, and the day this little one arrived. And the words “Happy Birthday”.

Suddenly, I remembered.

That day, when my family was still alive, the cake illustration and birthday song on the computer screen.

“Happy birthday.”

I felt like I heard my family’s voices.

Mom and Dad’s smiles. My older brother’s hand stroking my head. My older sister’s soft embrace.

It felt like they were right next to me.

On this day, I was gifted a new family member.

I’m no longer alone when I come home. I have family waiting for me.

Just once in a lifetime. The family that was presumably gifted from that site was, strangely, very long-lived.

They stayed with me until the moment my own life faded away.

I was able to live my life without ever losing a family member again.

Happy Birthday to me and my precious family.

☆The price was your smile☆

That site you could only use once in your life.

The gift, given at a time when I really needed it, brought a smile to my face forever.

Thank you.

Also, happy birthday.

Thank you for the best birthday and birthday present.

Episode 3 – For example, the case of Mr. B

~ The Note That Couldn’t Reach ~

I was born deaf.

Even so, I managed to live, get by, work, and survive.

My hobby is reading.

In a book, I feel like I could hear sounds that I couldn’t hear.

One day, while I was playing around with my computer, a strange page came up.

The name of the page is “Birthday Registration”.

The orange flames flickering on the screen were very beautiful.

It was a simple site where you just had to register your birthday and name. I entered the numbers and my name in the blank spaces.

One rainy day, I went out without bringing my umbrella.

There, she tapped me on the shoulder.

“—(Why don’t you come inside?)”

Her mouth was trying to communicate something, but it wasn’t reaching my ears. I put my hands over my ears, then made a cross sign in front of my chest. That was all it took for her to understand my situation.

She smiled and pointed to a store.

It seemed she was telling me to come along.

I nodded.

Pulled by her hand, I entered the store, which was dark and crowded with people. She prepared a chair for me, and then pointed to the chair after pointing at me.

Her movements were slow.

It seemed she was telling me to sit here.

As I sat quietly, the surroundings suddenly became brighter.

The people around me were standing up, waving their arms, jumping, and for some reason, waving towels around.

On the stage, she stood with a few people holding instruments, gripping a microphone, and looking like she was having a lot of fun.

I fell in love at first sight with her smile, which seemed so truly, truly happy, blissful, and joyful.

When the rain stopped, led by her hand just like when I entered, we went outside the store, and even after she waved and said, “– (See ya)”, my heart was still pounding.

After that, I visited the same store again and again. Sometimes I would meet her, and sometimes I wouldn’t. The second time our eyes met, she was very surprised. But, smiling, she came to my side and held my hand.

Before I knew it, we had exchanged contact information. Things we couldn’t convey through the sound of voice, we could convey through the words of text.

We told each other a lot of things.

We exchanged a lot of words.

But her voice never reached me.

I was a little lonely.

One day, I sent her a message.

“I like you.”

From that day on, I couldn’t go to the store for a while. I didn’t get a reply from her either.

A few days later, a box was placed in my room.

A small, beautifully wrapped box, it was a gift from someone.

That day was my birthday.

I opened the small box.

There was nothing in it.

No, there was a message card in it.

The message card had today’s date, my name, and a short message.

“Happy birthday!

Try putting the box to your ear?”

To my ear? I put that unused organ against the box. And something reached my ear.

A wind blew through my ears, vibrating the membranes inside.

My heart trembled.

This is what it means to “hear”.

I was excited to hear sound for the first time. And more than anything, I was delighted by the sound I heard.

The box made a sound.

“I like you too.”

A high, lovely sound, like a bird’s chirp.

For some reason, I wanted to meet her. I wanted to see her happy, smiling face on that stage.

Today was the day of the week I usually went to that store.

I ran out of the room. I’m sure she’s in that store too.

I’ll go see her.

And I’ll tell her directly. I’ll convey it with my own voice.

“I like you.”

Inside the small box was the voice of my beloved, something I should never have been able to hear.

Inside the mysterious present, given just once in a lifetime, was a miracle.

Right now, she and I are sitting on the same sofa, holding hands. We’ve put rings on each other’s fingers and sat next to each other, close.

I began to write lyrics for her, and she would move her lips along to the lyrics. I couldn’t hear her, but I was sure she was singing. With that bird-like voice I heard on that birthday.

♪Happy birthday for me , and thank you, stranger.

Thank you for a wonderful birthday gift.

The gift from the site, which can only be used once in a lifetime, was, for me, a sound I could only hear once in my life.

☆ The price is the sounds that never reached your ears ☆

My hearing will not return. No sound will ever reach me.

Even so. I have no regrets.

I will never forget.

That sound that reached my ears and my heart on that birthday.

The lovely sound of her saying “I like you”.

Happy birthday, thank you.

The one-time present delivered a lifetime of smiles to me.

Today, she is smiling next to me.

Singing.

Episode 4 – For example, the case of Mr. C

~ A Single Tear ~

My mother was born with a weak constitution. My father died from a new strain of influenza that was prevalent around the time I had just started elementary school. A cure hadn’t been developed yet at that time.

One day, during an internet class at school, I accidentally navigated to a different page. Luckily, I had the sound muted. A few lit candles were dancing on a fancy cake, probably a birthday cake. The page was called “Birthday Registration”.

I didn’t know what to do, so I just followed the instructions written in a prominent speech bubble: “Enter your date of birth and name!”

When I typed it in, the page closed with the words “Please Wait!”

Even now, when I remember it, it was a strange moment, I wonder what that was all about.

Some time passed, and one day it was my birthday.

A small box arrived for me. Inside was a small vial and a message card.

It had my birthday, my name, and a short message written on it.

“You choose when to use it.”

I didn’t understand what it meant.

Inside the small vial was just a single, tiny pill.

Not knowing what medicine it was, or even if it was medicine, all I could do at the time was push it deep into my desk drawer.

Many years later, one chilly day, my mother’s health suddenly worsened. She started coughing uncontrollably and had difficulty breathing. Since I couldn’t drive yet, I immediately called an ambulance, gathered her things, and rushed to her regular doctor.

Has her cold gotten worse? Could it be the flu? Either way, there’s no guarantee that my mother’s body will be able to withstand it.

My father, who had passed away long ago, crossed my mind. Would my mother end up like my father? I knew that human life could disappear easily. Just like a candle flame, something that goes out without a hitch. If a strong wind blows just a little, it will disappear in an instant.

Please, please, wind, don’t blow.

Don’t snuff out my mother’s life.

By the time we arrived at the hospital, my mother had a high fever. The paramedics were cautious, thinking she might have the flu, and immediately began taking precautions against infectious diseases.

The process was smooth and professional, right in front of me. They contacted the receiving hospital and donned protective gear. They explained the procedure to me and had me wear the same. It wasn’t easy to move in, but it was a necessary procedure.

When we arrived at the hospital, which we had been to many times, the hospital staff greeted us in the same manner. By this time, my mother was already unconscious. I was panicking. After seeing my mother off as she was carried deeper into the hospital, I was wandering around in a panic when a young paramedic who had been in the same ambulance tapped me hard on the shoulder.

“Stay firm!”

That strongly spoken phrase helped me regain my composure. I bowed my head to him and headed deeper into the hospital to wait for my mother to regain consciousness.

I wonder how much time has passed since I sat in the chair in front of the hospital room. Perhaps my tension had eased, as I began to doze off.

Then, deep in my ear, someone whispered.

“You choose when to use it.”

With a snap, I woke up like a balloon had popped.

It was already dark outside, and I couldn’t hear any footsteps around me.

The doctor in charge called out to me and told me to come back tomorrow.

I wasn’t able to see my mother that day.

In the end, I was unable to speak to my mother for several days after that day, and could only watch her get thinner through the glass. Her figure, eyes closed, barely breathing, was heartbreaking.

I cried every day.

In my room, my eyelids are swollen.

I cried every day, frustrated at my own helplessness.

Such days continued, and a rainy day arrived, as if someone was crying like me.

That day, my pen happened to break, so I reached deep into my desk drawer to get a new one that I was sure was tucked away somewhere.

Then, further inside, my fingers hit something. I pulled it out, and it was a small vial. The vial containing just a single pill, gifted to me on some birthday long ago.

“You choose when to use it.”

I remembered that message that was written.

Maybe now is the time!

If this were a special medicine, why not use it now?

I held it in my hand and ran to the hospital.

When I arrived at the hospital, a nurse at the reception desk picked up the phone and called out to me. She said she was just about to contact me. It seems that my mother has regained consciousness. However, her condition was deteriorating. The worst could happen at any moment, she said.

I immediately headed to the hospital room.

My mother was lying in a hospital bed, thin and pale, but when she saw me, she broke into a smile. It was a soft smile that seemed like it could disappear at any moment.

“Mom.”

I approached, took the pill from the vial, and tried to push it into her mouth along with some water from a plastic bottle.

Indeed, it was a dangerous act.

I was trying to make a sick person swallow some unknown substance, not even knowing what medicine it was. That’s how anxious I was. The thinking that had once regained its calm had been worn down watching her body weaken.

The medicine never entered my mother’s body. As soon as I took out the pill, my mother held my hand down with her own. When her hand, which had almost no strength at all, rested on top of mine, I finally understood what I was about to do.

My mother said.

“Please think carefully about when to use that medicine, and then decide, okay?”

In her final moments, my mother smiled and said that.

That evening, my mother passed away.

In the end, what was the contents of the vial gifted by some unknown stranger? Holding my mother’s remains, now ashes, I wondered.

The answer was revealed surprisingly quickly.

I later became a medical student and researched the disease that had taken my mother. It was an unknown infectious disease. The paramedics’ assessment was correct.

The city, the prefecture, and the country were busy dealing with the disease. Naturally, my university was also asked to help. Ultimately, we were pressured to produce a vaccine that shouldn’t have existed. By the time the virus was detected and an investigation was conducted, the lives of citizens were already under threat, just as it had been for my mother.

As I holed myself up in the lab day after day, I suddenly remembered that pill. I scraped off a tiny bit of the pill and analyzed the components of the powder with my fellow research group members. It was just a way to change the mood.

After the analysis was completed, the diluted liquid from the powder was placed on the table. We bowed our heads in front of the government officials.

That pill was a “miracle cure”. A panacea that was effective against any disease.

“Where did you get it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Replicate it immediately.”

“It can’t be replicated.”

“There are too many unknown components. Modern science can’t manufacture it.”

“Don’t give me that.”

“But, it was able to kill that virus.”

At the experimental stage, the ingredients in the pill were administered to a medium cultured with the virus, and within a few hours, they almost completely eliminated the virus. The same experiment was conducted on several other pathogens, all had the same results.

However, it was also true that it could not be copied.

All decisions were left to me, the owner.

A single pill.

The medicine that could have helped my mother.

Once again, I heard that message in my ears.

“You choose when to use it.”

I thought now was the time to use it.

The pill could not be copied.

However, no matter how much we diluted it, its effectiveness didn’t diminish.

We crushed the pill and diluted it in water. It was diluted, diluted, diluted, and distributed to the people as drinking water.

Praying that it would reach every life living in the country, we dissolved it.

I also asked for help from friends overseas whom I met online.

We sent them a small amount of powder, which they diluted in the same way and spread throughout their country.

It felt like a single drop of rain dissolving into the ocean.

Eventually, the virus was eradicated from the world.

The lives of the world were saved.

All I had left was a little powder in a small vial.

A small vial and a single pill gifted on my birthday. It saved countless lives.

However, I did not save my precious mother’s life.

That was also the “time to use it” that I had chosen.

My birthday is coming again this year.

Happy birthday, me.

That vial, gifted from a site said to be usable only once in a lifetime, still sits in my hand today, its contents slightly diminished.

☆ The price is the choice you didn’t make ☆

If I had tried to save my mother’s life with that single pill that day, what would have become of the world?

Hey Mom. The choice I made was the right one, wasn’t it?

Today, on my birthday, I shed a single tear in front of my father’s and mother’s graves.

Episode 5 – Last Page

♪Happy birthday, dear…

A story set in the distant future.

A God descended upon the world on a whim.

“For each life, I shall grant one wish.”

Some asked for money. Some asked for food. Some asked for immortality. Some asked for beauty. Some asked for fame. Each of them asked for what they wanted, and it was granted.

One person thought.

I want to become a god myself.

The God said.

“There is only one God. That wish cannot be granted.”

Another person said:

“Then please give me a gift. It’s my birthday.”

What gift did that person want?

The gift that the person wanted was

“The ability to give a special birthday present, just once in a lifetime.” And a system to make it possible.

In other words, the “Birthday Registration” site itself was a gift from that God.

But there was one difference from the God.

Instead of just giving a gift, the recipient pays a price.

Whether it’s cheap or expensive depends on the person who receives the gift.

♪Happy birthday, dear…

Today, it feels like someone received a once-in-a-lifetime gift.

At the same time, someone seems to have paid for it.

♪Happy Birthday to You♪