The morning sun peeked through the pale curtains, casting warm strips of gold across the hardwood floor. Somewhere between the smell of toast and the patter of tiny feet, the apartment buzzed with a quiet kind of chaos that Mimi had slowly come to love. Aya, now a little taller and even more talkative, darted down the hallway in mismatched socks and a dress covered in tiny cartoon cats, her bunny plush gripped tight in one hand.
"I can't find my hair clips!" she whined dramatically, flopping to the floor like her world had ended. "The sparkly ones!"
Itsuki popped her head out of the kitchen, spatula in one hand and apron splattered with batter. "The ones with stars or the ones with bows?"
Aya didn't answer. She just rolled dramatically and pointed at the sky, as if begging the universe to return her lost accessories.
Mimi snorted softly and crouched beside her. "Why don't you pick a new pair today, superstar? Maybe the rainbow ones?"
Aya considered this like it was a life-altering decision, then nodded solemnly. "Okay. But only because the rainbow ones are lucky."
They were already on their third week of kindergarten, and each morning still felt like a brand-new episode in a chaotic sitcom. From misplaced shoes to cereal spills, it was a miracle they ever got out the door. But somehow, they always did — even if it meant Mimi forgot her keys half the time or Itsuki had to run back for Aya's lunchbox.
Aya's kindergarten was just a ten-minute walk from their apartment, nestled between a bakery and a library. It had bright yellow walls, a jungle-gym in the shape of a smiling giraffe, and a long picket fence that Aya insisted on hopping beside every morning like she was in a musical.
Today was no different.
As they walked, Aya clutched both her moms' hands, swinging between them with every third step. Her backpack bounced against her back, adorned with buttons she'd collected from the park and museum trips. "Do you think Juliet will be there already?" she asked, bouncing with excitement.
"Probably," Mimi said with a smile. "She's always early, remember?"
Juliet had moved into the apartment building just a week before kindergarten started. She was a whirlwind of curly hair, gap-toothed grins, and nonstop questions. Her moms, Claire and Saanvi, had knocked on Mimi and Itsuki's door the first day, holding a welcome pie and apologies for their daughter being "a little much." But instead of chaos, they'd brought company. And that company soon turned into family.
Juliet and Aya had bonded instantly — like puzzle pieces that didn't know they'd been missing each other. Now, every morning, it was "Juliet this" and "Juliet that" and if they didn't see each other at least once a day, one of them would end up in tears.
They reached the school gate and saw Juliet already waiting, hopping in place with her oversized backpack that had one strap always falling off her shoulder. She squealed when she saw Aya and ran up to her like they hadn't seen each other just yesterday.
"AYAAAAAAAAAA!"
"JULIEEEEEEET!"
They tackled each other in a hug so forceful both Mimi and Itsuki winced. Juliet's curls bounced wildly as she pulled Aya toward the gate. "I saved you a spot next to me at the drawing table! We're making rainbow dragons today!"
Aya gasped as if this was the single most important announcement of her life. "I brought glitter glue!"
"Ohmygosh you're a genius!"
The two raced off without looking back, leaving Mimi and Itsuki standing there with matching amused expressions.
"They're gonna rule the world one day," Itsuki muttered.
"Or burn it down," Mimi replied, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Either way, we're in trouble."
Back home, the apartment felt almost too quiet without Aya's running commentary on clouds, bugs, or what she thought the moon tasted like. Itsuki sank into the couch with her coffee, exhaling deeply. "She's growing up too fast."
Mimi wandered over and curled beside her, legs tucked beneath her. "I know. I swear she was just learning how to walk yesterday. Now she's got homework."
"She called me a 'distraction' last night when I tried to help her color the sun."
Mimi laughed. "You are a distraction. A cute one."
Itsuki gave her a playful nudge. "Flirting will not get you out of doing the dishes tonight."
"Oh, but what if I make pancakes in the shape of unicorns for dessert?"
"…We'll talk."
By the time Aya returned that afternoon, her glitter glue had somehow ended up on her sleeves, in her hair, and inside her shoe. Juliet came over for dinner — again — and Mimi finally caved and set a "no more than three sleepovers a week" rule. Not that it stopped the girls from planning their lives together like a married couple.
That evening, Aya slammed her tiny hands on the kitchen table during dinner and declared, "My birthday is in three weeks. I want to invite my entire class."
Mimi nearly dropped her chopsticks.
Itsuki froze mid-bite. "All… twenty-two kids?"
"And their siblings. And parents. Juliet says we need a magician. And cupcakes with sparklers."
Mimi stared blankly at her wife. "We're doomed."
But of course, they couldn't say no. Aya had never had a big birthday before. Her first few had been quiet, unsure celebrations where she was still adjusting to her new home and family. But now she was thriving. She had friends. A best friend. And a wild, wonderful imagination that deserved to be celebrated.
So the planning began.
And the chaos followed.
Aya had ideas. So many ideas. Too many ideas. One night she sat Mimi and Itsuki down with a serious face and a pink clipboard she'd gotten from a class project and read off her demands like she was pitching a corporate takeover.
"First, I want a castle. Like a real one. With vines. And a drawbridge. And maybe a fog machine so it's spooky but still cute."
Itsuki raised an eyebrow. "Where are we getting a fog machine?"
"I saw one on the internet! Juliet says her mama used one for Halloween!"
Mimi was already scribbling notes with the desperate energy of someone trying to keep up. "Okay… fog machine… castle theme… uh… vines?"
"Real ones! But not the itchy kind. Juliet says—"
"Juliet says a lot of things," Itsuki muttered into her coffee.
Aya slapped the clipboard. "Also, we need matching outfits. Juliet and me, I mean. With capes. And a unicorn petting zoo. But only if they're nice unicorns. Not mean ones like in that one story where the unicorns turned evil and bit people."
Itsuki snorted. "I think those were just goats in party hats."
Aya stared, horrified. "YOU MEAN UNICORNS AREN'T REAL?!"
Mimi shot Itsuki a death glare.
"Unicorns are totally real, sweetheart," Mimi jumped in smoothly, patting Aya's hand. "We'll just… make sure to get the friendly ones from the unicorn shelter."
Aya narrowed her eyes. "Okay. But if they bite Juliet, you're responsible."
And just like that, they were knee-deep in party planning hell.
The first step was figuring out where to even have the party. Their apartment was too small to host thirty-plus guests, especially if Juliet insisted on inviting her entire extended family too. The nearby community center was already booked for a dog adoption fair. The library politely turned them away after Aya asked if they could transform the reading area into a "wizard potion lab." Itsuki even called the park board, only to learn that the weekend Aya wanted was right in the middle of a neighborhood food truck festival.
Finally, after some desperate emails and one mildly pathetic voicemail Mimi left while half-asleep, they landed a reservation at the rooftop garden of the apartment complex. It wasn't a castle, but it had fairy lights, plenty of open space, and a view Aya claimed looked "almost magical."
"Can we still do a fog machine?" she asked.
"Yes," Mimi said, already budgeting fog fluid into their spreadsheet.
While Mimi handled logistics like food, tables, decorations, and how not to get sued over flying cupcakes, Itsuki took charge of entertainment. That led her down an online rabbit hole of kid magicians, puppet shows, DIY carnival games, and a local woman who claimed her guinea pig could tell fortunes.
"I booked a magician," she announced one evening while stirring pasta. "He calls himself 'The Great Tupper.'"
"Like… the container?" Mimi blinked.
"I don't ask questions. He had five stars."
Aya, who had been listening from under the kitchen table with Juliet — they'd built a "birthday war room" there — gasped. "Can he make Juliet disappear?!"
Juliet yelled, "ONLY IF I CAN COME BACK WITH BALLOONS!"
Meanwhile, the invitation process became its own side-quest. Aya didn't want digital invites. She wanted scrolls. Actual parchment paper, hand-rolled, tied with ribbon. Juliet wanted gold wax seals. Mimi spent an entire night printing, cutting, and rolling twenty-four faux scrolls, while Itsuki accidentally hot-glued one to the cat's tail.
Then came the party favors. Aya wanted glitter slime. Juliet wanted mini swords. Together, they settled on both. Glitter swords. Itsuki was still pulling sparkles out of her coffee mugs days later.
The day before the party, Mimi and Itsuki stood in the kitchen surrounded by bags of supplies. There were boxes of cupcakes cooling on every available surface, paper dragons hanging from the ceiling fan, and a fog machine humming ominously from a test run on the balcony.
"Have we completely lost control?" Itsuki asked, arms crossed.
Mimi looked around. "Absolutely. But Aya's going to remember this forever."
"She's going to be insufferable forever."
They both laughed.
Then, at precisely 8:03 p.m., Aya came bolting from her room, waving a new problem like a red flag.
"Juliet lost her tooth!"
Itsuki blinked. "Okay… do we call the Tooth Fairy or—?"
"No! She says she can't wear the matching dress now 'cause it's bad luck to show up to a royal birthday with a missing tooth!"
Mimi sighed and rubbed her temples. "It's a milestone, not a curse."
"She's hiding under the blanket and says she'll only come if we crown her as 'Tooth Warrior Princess!'"
Five minutes later, Juliet was dramatically knighted with a ladle and wore a dish towel cape around her shoulders like she'd just been declared the hero of all lost molars. Crisis averted.
Finally, the big day arrived.
Mimi woke up first, blinking at the ceiling with that weird combination of dread and excitement that came before something huge. She padded into the kitchen and nearly tripped over the cat, who was now nesting inside a pile of goody bags. The apartment smelled like frosting and stress.
Aya was already awake. She stood in front of the mirror in her sparkly pink dress, humming to herself while trying to get her tiara to stay upright.
"I feel like a queen," she whispered.
"You look like one," Mimi said softly, brushing her bangs aside and planting a kiss on her forehead.
The rooftop was transformed.
There were paper lanterns swaying in the breeze, a bubble machine spewing foam into the sky, and tables covered in sparkly cloths that shimmered with the sunlight. The fog machine puffed dramatically in the corner like it was training for a role in a haunted house. There was even a "unicorn station" — a row of very patient, very fluffy ponies wearing rainbow horns and flower garlands.
The Great Tupper arrived precisely at noon, wearing a cape covered in glitter and a top hat he probably bought from a costume store three decades ago. He had a briefcase full of scarves and fake rabbits and immediately won the crowd over by pulling a cupcake out of Aya's ear.
Children screamed. Parents laughed. Juliet tried to convince a pony to whisper her fortune.
The highlight of the party was the moment Aya stood in front of everyone, took a deep breath, and announced in the loudest voice possible, "Thank you for coming to my royal birthday! You may now commence FUN!"
Chaos erupted.
There was dancing. There were races around the flower beds. The magician accidentally lit his hat on fire with a birthday candle, but quickly put it out by dunking it in a bucket of punch. Aya beamed the entire time, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
When it came time for cake, everyone gathered around as Mimi and Itsuki brought out the massive castle-shaped masterpiece they'd commissioned from a local baker. The crowd gasped. Aya looked like she might actually cry.
Juliet leaned over and whispered, "You're the luckiest girl ever."
Aya smiled. "No. I'm just the happiest."
And as she blew out the candles, everyone cheered.
The rest of the party blurred into the kind of wonderful mess only a children's birthday could be. Music. Laughter. Cupcake fights. A pony briefly escaping and being chased down by a dad in flip-flops. Aya opened her gifts with the delicate precision of someone unwrapping treasure. And Mimi and Itsuki just stood back and watched — holding hands, hearts full.
As the sun dipped low and the rooftop began to empty, the lanterns glowed against the deepening sky. Aya, tired and frosting-stained, sat on the ground beside Juliet, both of them giggling over a glitter sword duel that ended in them falling on top of a pile of balloons.
Claire and Saanvi helped gather the last of the plates, waving as they carried a sleepy Juliet back home. Aya shuffled over to Mimi and Itsuki, wrapped in her cape, clutching her plush bunny like a battle trophy.
"That was the best birthday ever," she said, snuggling into Mimi's side.
"You earned it, little storm," Mimi whispered, brushing her hair back.
Aya didn't ask what she meant. She just sighed, sleepy and full, and leaned her head on Itsuki's lap.
And as they sat there under the fairy lights, wind whispering through the flowers, and laughter still echoing down the halls below, it was hard not to feel like maybe — just maybe — this was the kind of memory Aya would carry forever.
Not the chaos. Not the sugar crash. Not even the fog machine getting stuck on high.
But the love.
The normal. The laughter.
The joy of blooming after every storm.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow would be another adventure.