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Rudhran pov :

So yeah... after we kicked Yamuna and that Ajay joker out of our lives, peace finally decided to check into our house like a long-lost VIP guest. The air feels lighter. The walls don't echo with tension anymore. And honestly... I never knew silence could feel this warm. This right.

Anyway, tonight is special. Like, super special. My Aaru's birthday is in half an hour. And obviously, I can't let it slide like just another midnight wish with a boring cake and yawns. Nope.

This is her first birthday in this house... as my wife. My responsibility. My girl. My soft-hearted, too-cute-for-this-world, study-bug-of-a-wife who still blushes when I hold her hand in front of others.
So yeah... it better be perfect.

I glance at the clock. 11:30 PM.
Half an hour to go. 

Ganga Patti is already snoring like a gentle tractor in the other room—thanks to her tablet.

Vishnu is right here beside me, pretending to hold a balloon like it's some rare artifact.

"Bro, this thing is deflating. Is it symbolic? Like our youth disappearing slowly?" he asks dramatically, holding the balloon near his face.

I roll my eyes.
"Symbolic ah? It's symbolic of how much I regret asking you to help."

He shrugs, "You knew what you signed up for. Also, why are these ribbons longer than my patience?!" he whines while Priya throws a pillow at him from the couch.

"shut up and tie them properly! This is our Aaru's birthday!"

BANG.

One balloon bursts. Vishnu flinches like someone shot him.
"THAT'S IT. I'm not made for decorations. I'm a man of business," he declares.

"Business my foot," I mutter, adjusting the fairy lights. Dhivya was sneaking bites of cake cream and pretending to be innocent.

"Anna I'm just tasting for poison okay," she grinned. I flicked her forehead. "You're the only poison in this house, go decorate that corner."

Sathyan chithappa,, was calmly setting up the gifts table with a soft smile, watching all of us with pride. He'd always been the gentle anchor of our home, and tonight, he looked happy just being part of this madness.

The living room was looking almost magical now. Fairy lights, pastel balloons, a big "Happy Birthday Aaru" LED sign glowing near the window. Even the sofa got dressed up like it was going to attend a reception.

Cake? Check.
Gifts? Check.
Decor? Check.
My excitement? Through the roof.
My nerves? Also through the roof.

I turned around hearing a loud groan—like some ghost got caught in a mosquito net.
"Dei Rudhraaa! Take another light set da! This one's not glowing properly!"

There he was—Vishnu tangled like a Christmas tree that had feelings.
The poor guy hand was wrapped in fairy lights from neck to toe, and forehead slightly glowing blue from the LED tint.

He scowled, struggling like a trapped panda.
"Just get another light set da thambi! This one's cursed I think. I plug it, it dies. I unplug it, it blinks like disco."

"Relax da. I'll go to the store room. Don't burn the house meanwhile."

I walked out of the hall, away from the madness. The corridor was quiet... peaceful... and slightly nostalgic. I hadn't opened that storeroom since I came here.

But today felt different.
Warm. Calm. Aaru's birthday.

I pushed open the dusty wooden door, the smell of old books, memories, and naphthalene hit me. I flicked on the small bulb—dim as Vishnu's brain when he skips breakfast.