It was his birthday again. He marked the calendar he's been using for years. He was now 17. He looked up from the bench to see families having fun and playing around. But for him, the last person he talked to was the officer before he left.
He made the snowmen and the cake like he did every year for his birthday. He took out some of his toys and made them sit on the bench that he lived on for the past 10 years.
He sat there in front of the snowmen and looked at the cake as if he outdid himself. Even though people were starring at him and judging him, he carried on.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Yūma, happy birthday to you!"
He clapped to himself and giggled. He took a stick and cut the snow cake before taking the chunk and lifted it up. Just for it to crumble to the ground.
Yūma looked up and watched his "mother's" head fall over and smash onto the ground. Followed by his "father" toppling over as it crumbled on top of him.
He hung his head low as the freezing cold stung his entire body. Tears started rolling down his cheeks when he truly realised that he had nobody. Not even his parents. He cried while picking up his things and putting them back in his bags. But this time, he left the sticks and rocks there. For now he realised, a few snowmen are never gonna fix his loneliness.
