Space Man

Flustered

Xisuma pov

I couldn't shake the memory of Keralis's voice or the way he'd smiled while picking out those flowers. It lingered in the back of my mind like an echo, distracting me more than I'd care to admit. The only solution, I figured, was to bury myself in admin work and hope it drowned out my thoughts.

The glow of the holographic panels lit up the dim room as I meticulously combed through lines of code, searching for errors or inefficiencies. This kind of work usually kept me grounded—focused. But tonight, my focus kept slipping.

Every time I adjusted a line or checked a system, I’d catch myself wondering what kind of flowers he’d picked. Did he like bright, vibrant blooms, or was he more of a subtle, pastel kind of person? Did he think of me when he chose them, or was that just wishful thinking on my part?

I sighed heavily, leaning back in my chair. The helmet felt suffocating, but I was grateful for it. If anyone walked in right now, they wouldn’t see how flustered I was, my cheeks undoubtedly red as I tried to push these thoughts away.

"Focus, summa," I muttered under my breath, pulling up another panel. This time it was the server's protection protocols—a tedious but necessary task.

And yet, even as I typed away, the image of Keralis holding those flowers popped into my mind again. I groaned quietly and rested my head against the edge of the desk. Why does he have to be so… so perfect?

Still, there was one thing I couldn’t let go of. His birthday. It was driving me mad, the way he’d dodged every question about it, leaving me to piece together clues like some kind of puzzle. If I could just figure it out, I’d make sure it was a day he’d never forget. Something special—something that showed how much I… cared.

I had started with good intentions—really, I did. Admin work was piling up, and I had every intention of tackling it head-on. But somehow, my mind wandered back to Keralis and his evasive answers about his birthday. Before I realized it, my hands were typing queries into search engines instead of fixing server glitches.

I went through forum after forum, social media posts, and even old interviews from before Hermitcraft existed. Most of it was a dead end—just the usual vague mentions of him dodging questions or joking about the topic. It was frustrating, but I wasn’t about to give up.

Eventually, I stumbled upon an ancient article—practically a relic of the internet. It was a photocopy, scanned and uploaded with minimal care, the text slightly faded. The title mentioned a build competition, something Keralis had participated in long before he joined Hermitcraft.

As I scrolled through the article, my eyes caught on something that made me pause. There it was: a small mention of the contestants, their ages, and… their birthdays.

“Keralis,” I muttered under my breath, zooming in on the section. There it was. A date. But something about it didn’t make sense.

According to this article, his birthday was... tomorrow.

I stared at the screen, confusion washing over me. Why wouldn’t he tell anyone if it’s so soon? And why had he been out picking flowers and treats with XB earlier today? Was he planning something for himself, or was this just another one of his cryptic habits?

Suddenly, the pressure was on. If the date was correct, I had less than 24 hours to put something together. Something meaningful.

“Alright,” I said, pushing away from the desk. “No more distractions. Time to plan.”

But even as I set to work, a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be more to this mystery than I realized.

As I stared at the grainy, photocopied image in the article, my heart sank. Keralis looked so young—his hair shorter, his features less refined but still unmistakably him. Yet, what struck me most wasn’t how different he looked physically. It was his expression.