[Kazuha]

The door closed quietly, but in the silence of the apartment, the sound seemed too sharp.
Scaramouche placed a cake box and a bag with a bottle of wine on the side table, then took off his coat.

"Happy birthday," he said almost casually, though a warm note still slipped into his voice. "I baked the cake myself. And I bought the red wine you like."

Kazuha smiled, but warily. He was standing by the window, the streetlight casting stripes across his face.

"You... baked it yourself?" he clarified.

"Yes. Don't make that face, I'm not entirely hopeless," Scaramouche huffed and reached into the inner pocket of his blazer. "And also... I didn't know what to get you."

He placed a neat stack of bills on the table. A lot. Too much not to be noticed.

"There are several tens of thousands of mora here. If you want, we can go right now and buy you whatever you like."

The silence became heavy.

Kazuha slowly approached the table, looked at the money, and then looked up.

"Put it away."

"What?"

"Put it away," Kazuha's voice trembled, but grew firmer. "I don't need your money."

Scaramouche frowned.

"It's not 'my' money. It's a gift."

"No," Kazuha exhaled sharply. "It's charity. Or pity. Call it whatever you want."

"You're overreacting," Scaramouche crossed his arms. "I earn, you study. It's normal to help."

"No," Kazuha raised his voice. "It's not normal when I'm being bought. When it's as if I'm being told: 'You're unemployed, here, you need this more.'"

"I didn't say that."

"But that's what I hear!" Kazuha turned away, clenching his fists. "I want to achieve success on my own. By myself. Without hiding behind your profits and your status."