He is three when he gets his hat.

He remembers that day. It was full of people and food and laughter. There were balloons, so many of them, and the kids played with them while they waited for the cake. Up in front, Boboiboy sits with his mother, tiny hands adjusting his party hat while his father rolls a small tray over.

He stops in front of them and lifts the cover, and like bees drawn to a flower's scent, the kids gather around to watch him blow out the candles. Boboiboy looks at his mother, who gives him a gentle smile. "Go on," she says, so he leans forward and puffs out as much air as he can.

The people cheer, and Boboiboy sees his father grin at him before starting to cut the cake.

It's sweet, and Boboiboy decides he likes sweet things because they make him feel warm. He tugs at his mother's hand and opens his mouth for another, and she smiles as she carefully feeds him another bite. He chews a bit and smiles back at her, which makes her laugh. "Happy birthday, dear," she says, gently wiping the icing off his chin.

"Should I greet him again, too?"

His father walks up to them, smiling as he holds his present on one hand. Boboiboy perks up and tries to reach for it, which makes his father laugh. "Easy, now," he says, sitting beside them and finally handing him the box. Eyes bright, Boboiboy tugs at the wrapper and tries his best to say the sincerest 'thank you' his little self can.

His parents watch as he opens his present, face alight with wonder as he pulls out the brightest hat he's ever seen. It's the same colour as the balloons, something he doesn't know yet, but if warmth could be a colour, this would be it. He runs his hands over the soft surface, stopping to curiously poke at the spikes, before pulling the hat and pressing it against his face.

"Here," his father chuckles, prying the hat from his grip and placing it on top of his head. It falls over his face, still too big to properly wear, so he pushes it up a bit and looks back at his father. "Give it a few years, and it'll fit you like a glove." Fingers teasingly dance at his side, pulling a giggle out of him.

"It's nice," he hears his mother say, and he doesn't have to look to know she's smiling at his father, who's definitely smiling back. Playing with his father's hands, he still looks, because there's something about their smiles that remind him of the sun: bright, and warm.

It makes him feel happy.

He is five when he starts to learn.

Boboiboy sits in a plush armchair, swinging his legs as he looks around the room. It's huge and shiny, filled with a lot wooden furniture bathed in warm lighting. A pleasant hum comes from people conversing over lunch, but for most part, the cafe is peaceful.

A few feet from him, his mother stands as she talks with someone over the phone.

The week before, his mother had sat with him as he drew himself with what he learned was a soccer ball. She had talked to him about how his father was an 'ambassador,' which meant he had to go somewhere far away because that's where he was needed, and that if he wanted, he could come with them.

Boboiboy was confused, because home was where parents were needed, and wasn't this their home? But then adults had always done things differently, kind of like with sleep. Plus, his birthday was coming up, which meant they had to spend the whole day together again.

So he said yes.

But then his mother was sitting down beside him, giving him a small smile as she said, "Your Dad's running a little late, but he'll get here soon. Let's wait for a bit more, okay?" His father had to work early this morning, so he figured a few more minutes wouldn't be so bad.

Shifting closer, he looks up at her and smiles, saying, "Okay."

Idly, he thinks about how this is the first time his father was ever late.

It's also the first time he celebrates somewhere completely and utterly unfamiliar.

Still -

Someone tugs his hat off, and before Boboiboy can protest, a hand drops on his head and rubs. He lets out a soft 'oof,' before giggling and trying to bat away the offending limb. "Sorry about that," his father says, grinning as he places the hat back on his head. "The meeting went longer than expected. Did you wait long?"

He shakes his head, beaming as he watches his father laughs while his mother ushers him into a seat. They look through the menu together and order for lunch, and Boboiboy gets away with ordering at least half of the dessert list. "Happy birthday, kid," his father grins as he digs into his third slice of cake.

With the help of his father, of course.

- they're all together, and that's what matters.

He is eight when he misses them.

The floor is cold, but at this point, Boboiboy is too stubborn to drag himself back to the sofa. He yawns and tosses his ball up for the umpteenth time, about to catch it when his guardian pops in with a phone and says, "It's your parents."

"Really?! Where - ack!"

He shoots up so quickly that he forgets to catch the ball, which lands on his head with a soft thud. "Ouch," he mumbles, rubbing at his head as he extends his other hand for the phone. His guardian hands it to him before giving him privacy, leaving to finish the house chores.

"Dear?"

"Mom!" Boboiboy greets, smiling as he holds the device closer. "How was the trip?" He hears his mother chuckle, before replying, "Tiring, as usual. How's school?" Boboiboy gets up from his spot on the floor and walks to the sofa, taking a seat as he says, "The same, I guess? I'm trying out for the soccer team."

"You're definitely going to get in, kid."

Boboiboy laughs at that. "Thanks, Dad. Are you guys back? Where are you?" His mother hums from the other end, the kind of sound she makes when she's tired but smiling. "We're still at the airport, but we promise we'll get there as fast as we can." He glances at the clock - 10:57, it reads - and shrugs to himself.

"Okay. I'll stay up so I can greet you when you get back."

"That's our line," his father quips from the background, which makes them laugh. When they finally settle down, his mother warmly says, "Happy birthday, dear." Boboiboy hums, a small smile on his face as he burrows himself deeper into the cushions and settles for the wait.

"Thanks, mom."

He is ten when he starts to forget.

Boboiboy doesn't mean to look so surprised when his guardian greets him on this particular day, not really. It's just, between trying to remember his history lessons and giving his all during soccer games, his mind rarely wanders to things that aren't related to school or relaxation.

There's also the thing where he's stopped counting down for his birthday, but well, that was expected.

So here he is, shaking the package that was handed to him this morning as his parents' video feed run a few feet away. "Is it... a book?" he tries again, but a glance at the tablet screen shows his father raising a brow, while his mother chuckles and shakes her head.

"I'm pretty sure you don't like books that much."

"Only when they're from school," Boboiboy huffs, which makes his father grin. Going back to the box, he tilts his head as he considers it. "Is it..." he flips the present over, hearing it make a sound, and smiles. "A game?"

His mother smiles. "We hope you like it."

Suddenly excited, he quickly tugs the lid off to reveal the latest game he's been pining over. Boboiboy gapes as he pulls it out of the box, wondering, "How did you..."

"Must have been a lucky guess," his father says with an innocent smile, but Boboiboy knows they probably asked his guardian about it, which makes his heart swell. The situation is less than ideal, and he still misses them a lot, but he's glad for what he has in knowing that they definitely still care.

He turns back to them and smiles, saying, "Thank you." He means it.

His parents smile back.

"Happy birthday, kid."

"Happy birthday, dear."

He is eleven when he remembers.

Not his birthday, no. He's still surprised when he's reminded, which should probably worry him, considering how kids didn't usually forget their birthdays, but.

"Eh? This is... for me?"

His guardian nods and holds the box out, saying, "The tag is addressed to you. Says it's from someone called 'Gopal.' Should I send it back?" That snaps Boboiboy out of his surprise and he quickly shakes his head, taking the box and saying, "No, no, it's okay. I know him. Um. Thank you."

His guardian gives him an amused smile and pats his head, before going back to his duties. Boboiboy heads back to his spot on the carpet and sits down, placing the box in front of him. He grabs the tag and opens it, reading the short message.

'Hi Boboiboy! It's a package from your best friend, Gopal!'

No kidding, Boboiboy thinks, a smile tugging at his lips. I wonder what's inside? Carefully, he unwraps the present, pulling back the lid to reveal an assortment of treats. They're divided by separate containers, each in his friends' colours, probably so that he knows who gave what.

Yaya gave homemade biscuits she shaped to look like him. They were adorable, but Boboiboy hadn't tried to eat them until he found a letter that told him how Ying and Gopal had helped in making them. They assured him it was safe to eat, if not a little bit burnt.

He stares at his miniature self for a moment and shrugs, saying, "Here goes nothing." He pops one into his mouth and chews slowly, humming when he doesn't faint. They're actually pretty good, he thinks, grabbing another one while he opens the other containers.

Gopal had gotten him chocolate in different shapes. "He probably turned paper into chocolate again," he mumbles to himself, smiling in surprise when the chocolate cubes turn out to have a hint of caramel. Huh. So he remembers that time.

Ying's container had only one treat in it. It was a small cake, designed in her colours but - "Ochobot?" Boboiboy blinks, amazed at the drawing of the power sphere. In an unfilled section, there was a message.

'Happy Birthday, Boboiboy! Come visit us soon, okay?'

Those eight words tug at him, and Boboiboy remembers being five, remembers celebrating in a home away from home, and it's the first time he'd felt like that in years and -

"Boboiboy?"

Boboiboy startles, snapping his head up to look at his guardian, who's suddenly frowning with worry. Belatedly, he recognizes the sting behind his eyes and realizes he probably looks like he's about to cry. He tries to blink the tears away.

"What is it?"

"Are... you okay?"

"Mm," he hums, looking back down at his present, "Did you need anything?" His guardian looks at him for a moment, before holding out a phone and saying, "It's your grandfather." Boboiboy perks up at that and takes the phone, but not without saying a quick 'thanks.'

"Hello?"

"Boboiboy!"

"Granddad!" Boboiboy warmly greets, a smile already making its way on his face. He presses the phone between his cheek and shoulder, tidying up the sweets as he asks, "Why are you calling?" He's curious since his grandfather had never called before, preferring the visits, so this was a surprise.

Tok Aba huffs on the other end, saying, "What, I can't call my grandson on his birthday?" Boboiboy laughs, plopping himself down on the sofa, and says, "Sorry, granddad. You always sent letters, so I'm a bit surprised. Ah, but thank you for calling."

"Of course," his grandfather says. "Did you get Gopal's package yet?"

"You mean the food? Yeah. It was nice."

"I knew my idea would work," his grandfather laughs in triumph, and Boboiboy smiles.

He misses them.

"Granddad?" he asks and hears a hum, urging him on. "Can you thank the others for me?" There's a bit of shuffling on the other end, before his grandfather says, "Why don't you tell them yourself?"

"Boboiboy!"

The chorus of his name makes him blink, before realization settles and he yelps. "Guys?!"

"Boboiboy! We miss you! Why can't you celebrate here so we can have free cocoa?"

"Ey, Gopal, don't be such a freeloader! Happy birthday, Boboiboy!"

"Hi Boboiboy! Happy Birthday. We hope you're having a good one this year."

There's a commotion from the other side, and Boboiboy tries to make out as much as he can from the overlapping voices, laughing to himself as he hears his friends fight for the phone.

"Celebrate the next one with us, okay? Let's do it over cocoa!"

"Gopal!"

"You guys shouldn't fight over the phone."

"Boboiboy!"

The new voice makes him jump. "Ochobot? Is that you?" There's a wail of his name, before Ochobot starts to ramble and yep, that's him alright. Boboiboy smiles as he listen to the other, who says, "When are you coming back? We miss you! Please don't forget about me, okay?"

"I miss you guys, too," he says. He wonders how Ochobot could even think that he'd forget about them. He's a kid, and he might forget every now and then, but if there's one thing he'll always remember and hold close to his heart, it's family.

"I'll be back soon, okay?"

Just you wait.

He is twelve, and he is home.

"Happy Birthday!"

Boboiboy laughs as he shields his eyes from the party poppers, saying, "Thanks, guys." They're at the shop, which is decorated with white and orange balloons and a banner that says, 'Happy Birthday to our Hero!' So this is why Gopal wouldn't let me go home early, he thinks as he's ushered into a seat.

"Here," Tok Aba places a small cake in from of him, and on the top is a drawing of his face. "Ochobot designed it," he says, and the robot pops out from behind him to squish at his side. "Do you like it, do you like it, do you like it?" he asks, buzzing with excitement, which makes Boboiboy smile.

"It's awesome, Ochobot," he says, grabbing the power sphere to give him a quick hug. "Thanks." Ochobot cheers and flies around in happy circles, while his grandfather looks on fondly.

"Here."

Boboiboy turns to Yaya, who offers him a slice, smiling as she says, "You should have some." He accepts the cake, trying to seem polite, but Ying must've noticed his wariness, because she comes up to him and whispers, "It's safe, don't worry. Tok Aba was the one in charge."

"Oh thank goodness," he sighs in relief, which makes her giggle. "Dig in!" she urges, so Boboiboy takes a bite, pleasantly humming at the chocolate and caramel combination. "It's amazing," he states and looks at the cake in awe.

Gopal snickers, nudging at his side and saying, "You sure love caramel." Boboiboy takes another bite of the cake, mumbling between bites, "Not as much as you love cocoa." Gopal perks up at that, and starts, "Speaking of cocoa..."

"M'kay, okay," Boboiboy swallows and shakes his head at him, "You get one free drink." Gopal whoops in victory, "I knew his present would be worth it!"

"I guess just today is fine," his grandfather sighs, and Boboiboy flashes him a grateful smile. "Thanks, granddad." His grandfather smiles back fondly, and says, "You're welcome. Happy birthday, Boboiboy."

"Come onnnn, Boboiboy. Open mine already!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," Boboiboy laughs as he takes Gopal's present and places it in front of him. Turns out all of his friends had gotten him something, including Ochobot. Yaya's present had been a hand-sewn keychain of Ochobot, who nearly cried when he found out what it was for.

"So you always have each other, wherever you go," she'd said with a smile, only to be tackled by an emotional power sphere who asked her for a similar one, but of Boboiboy. Ying's present had been a book on constellations, and Boboiboy swore he could've pressed his face on the cover when he saw what it was.

"I heard you liked space," she grinned at him, "So I got you this!" Boboiboy had thanked her with stars in his eyes, excited to use it in his next stargazing activity. Ochobot's present had been an antigravity watch stand, which protected his powerwatch from anyone who wanted to steal it.

"You shouldn't wear it while sleeping," the power sphere had chided him, which made Boboiboy laugh sheepishly. He'd been so focused in his hero role that he'd almost forgotten how the watch irritated his skin whenever he slept with it on his arm.

And now he was here.

Boboiboy rips the wrapper off the box and tugs a lid off, peering in to see a brand new soccer ball. He looks at Gopal in surprise, who shrugs and explains, "Eh, you left yours back home, right? And the old one's starting to wear out, so I thought you'd like a new one - AHHH!"

Gopal sputters as Boboiboy goes and tackles him from behind, saying, "Gopal, you're the best! Thank you!" Boboiboy squeezes him in a hug, and Gopal grins as he strikes a pose. "Of course! I'm your best friend, so my present has to be the best!"

"So he says," Ying mumbles, rolling her eyes at the scene, while Yaya just shakes her head. She pauses when she sees a familiar flash of purple in her peripheral. She turns and looks at the bushes, thinking, Is that...

"Fang?"

The rest of her friends pause, turning to look at the suddenly flustered teen standing by the bushes. "Um," he greets, eyes flitting every which way, "Hi." Boboiboy and Gopal blink at that, before sharing a look and nodding.

"Hey, Fang. What's up?" Gopal greets, and Boboiboy gets off him to settle back in his chair. "Not much," the bespectacled teen mumbles, startling when an arm drapes itself around his shoulders. "Well then, you should join us! Boboiboy is celebrating his birthday today."

Fang looks at the shop's decorations, before looking at Gopal with a raised brow. "I hadn't noticed," he deadpans, and Gopal laughs sheepishly. He takes a seat beside Ying, who slides him a plate of cake. "Hey," she smiles, "Have some. It's good."

Fang blinks at the confectionery, before grabbing his fork and taking a bite. As Gopal and Ying wait for his reaction, Yaya sits beside Boboiboy, who asks, "Are we just going to ignore the box he has?"

The box in question was plain white, something Fang had been trying to hide the moment Yaya saw him. Yaya shrugs, saying, "Well, asking him about it might not be the best. Just let him do things at his own pace."

Boboiboy watches as Fang's wonder makes Ying and Gopal laugh, pouting a little as he says, "I just hope he doesn't try to fight me today." Yaya pats his shoulder and gives him a reassuring smile, saying, "I don't think he will."

Time passes, and the five of them talk, play, and joke around like they'd been friends for a lifetime. It's fun, even when Fang tries to argue, because this time there's really no press to prove that they're better than the other.

They're enjoying so much that they only realize how late it is when the sun already starts to set.

"Oh," Yaya blinks at the sky, before glancing at the clock. "It's late. I should probably go home now." She makes to stand, and Ying follows, stretching her limbs. "Me too," she starts, "I need to help granny make dinner." At the mention of that, Gopal yelps and falls out of his seat.

The girls look at each other. "Are you okay, Gopal?" Yaya asks, offering a hand. "I forgot to help Pa clean the house," he cries, scrambling to get up. "I have to go now! Bye guys! Thanks for the food, Boboiboy!"

"Stay safe," they call, and Boboiboy waves his hand a little as they watch Gopal run back home. "Well," Ying says, looking at Yaya, "We should be going, too." Yaya hums and turns to the other two, saying, "Today was fun. You guys stay safe. Happy birthday again, Bobobiboy."

Boboiboy calls out a 'thanks' while Fang sees them off.

"Well," Boboiboy starts, sliding out of the seat and into the shop, "I'm going to start cleaning up." Fang gestures with his hands, and Boboiboy takes it as a 'go ahead' and starts piling up the plates. The silence is comfortable, Boboiboy cleaning while Fang watches.

After a few moments, Fang decides to break the silence "You know," he says, eyes wandering over the shop items, "In my home, we don't have birthdays." Boboiboy hums, stealing a glance at the other as he scrubs a mug clean.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well, what do you guys have?"

"Naming days," Fang answers without hesitation, turning to look at the stars. "For us, names were as good as you make them. Didn't matter what your age was, as long as your name meant something."

Boboiboy hums again, drying his hands as he takes a seat. He places his arms on the counter and tucks his chin over them, turning to the sky, too. "Kinda deep, but it sounds nice," he says, and Fang turns to raise a brow at him. He shrugs, offering a sincere smile to the other.

They stay like that for a while, before Fang sighs and stands up. "I should probably head back, too," he says, and Boboiboy lifts a hand to wave at him. "Stay safe," he mumbles, and Fang stares at him before bringing the box up and pushing it towards him.

"Thanks," he says, turning to walk back, before pausing. "And happy birthday, I guess."

A slow smile makes its way on Boboiboy's face as he watches the other leave. It's not until Fang disappears from his sight that he sits upright, shifting closer to examine the box. It's not wrapped, just a simple white box, so Boboiboy lifts the lid and peers in.

"Huh."

He reaches in and grabs a red carrot doughnut, biting in to find it still soft.

a/n: somewhere in the world, it's still march 13th. you can't be late if you live in a place with multiple time zones, right?

edit: SO I FORGOT TO MENTION. boboiboy's parents still call him during his birthday, they always will, and they also send him presents! i didn't include it in the last two entries because i wanted to focus on the new extension of what boboiboy calls 'family.'