Chapter Text
The kids huddled around Akito, tiny cries of 'again, aniki again!' as they handed him the football.
How did this even happen? One minute he's doing kick-ups on the side of the street, the next a bunch of children are crowded around him begging him to show more cool moves. A couple more ran over, their own plastic footballs in hand, eyes eager and waiting.
Grudgingly, he indulged them. The ball landed perfectly in the middle of the flower circle one of the kids made. The children burst into excitement, trying to kick their own balls and toys and rocks and whatever else they could find. Honestly Akito was surprised he had even made that goal given how small the ring was. As soon as all the kids were distracted he turned back and ran inside.
"You're quite good with kids, aren't you Akito?" His mother asked from the sink, her voice barely audible over the drama playing from her phone. He shrugged off his coat, exhaustion finally seeping in from the long school day.
"They won't leave me alone," he grumbled, toeing off his shoes.
She giggled. "They really seem to like you. Maybe you should play with them more. It would be good for you."
He opened the fridge. The cheesecake was finished.
"It's not cause of me. They saw me with the football and now they won't leave me alone." He got bored once. Once. All it took was one kid going 'Hey! That guys playing football!' and now he was here, a haggle of kids stood outside his door everyday afterschool waiting for 'aniki' to show up.
The drama OST dipped into a soft, emotional piano ballad. The keys wrung around the kitchen, polishing the counters and shining across the cupboards, the melody only broken by the disharmonious clattering of plates.
"Say, Akito. How about you try babysitting?"
"No thanks," he inserted his earphones, scoffing.
She closed the tap, sweeping across the counter with washcloth like she hadn't just proposed the most ridiculous idea.
"I mean it. There's a lady a couple streets away with a son who needs looking after. I offered to keep him here but she says he has to stay at home." She hung it over the tap, going down to empty the washing machine.
"Yeah, no. I'm not even good with that kind of stuff. Ask someone else to do it."
"But I already told her you were coming."
He stopped dead in his tracks. "You what."
She couldn't speak over the mountain of clothes in her arms, already halfway to the door. "I'll send you the address. You need to be there by eight-o-clock, no later. Their family's already going to be leaving. Do a good job, okay? And tell Ena to at least wash her own clothes if she's going to buy so many," she grunted.
Before Akito could protest she was already outside hanging the laundry, leaving him alone with the monotone piano ringing out behind him.
Damn it, why was he even here? He checked his phone again, making sure he was definitely at the right place.
He shouldn't even be doing this, why his mother had thought this was a good idea was beyond him but regardless he stood outside, weighing in his mind whether or not to knock again.
If they're not home then I guess I can just leave…
"One moment."
Damn it.
A tall, middle-aged woman opened the door. She was pretty slender, the pearl beads of her necklace sitting against her clavicles, a long navy dress hanging off her frame. Her greying dark hair tied back into a complicated bun, held together by an even more expensive-looking clip. Akito felt underdressed beneath her gaze.
Her dark eyes glinted with something akin to recognition. "You're Shinonome-san's son, aren't you?" He nodded. "Ah I knew it. I recognise your nose.
His…nose?
"My son is upstairs getting ready. Here, come inside."
He followed her into the main room, immediately taken aback by the grandeur of it all. It was about as fancy as he'd expect: a white marble floor, moonlight fractured across from where it entered through the large glass panels making up the far wall, the sofa in front of it so clean he doubted it had been used as anything more than decoration in its entire life, same from the glass table and seat in front of it; a bookshelf on the adjacent wall, each book encased in pristine leather and thicker than anything he could he could hope to read in a lifetime, and a long dining table in the centre, yellow light splotching across its wooden surface from the four sphere-shaped lights hung above it. He was suddenly regretting coming here in his uniform instead of buying nicer clothes like his mother suggested. In his defence it was the most formal thing he owned.
The curtain whooshed over the window wall as the lady closed it, making him realise just how quiet it was. For a family of—he glanced over the dining table—four it sure was quiet. Every time his family had to go out there would be at least three different arguments going with no one able to find to find anything and them already running an hour late. Although, given the vibes he got from this place, this probably wasn't that type of family.
After about ten minutes he heard a ruffling, followed by the clacking of dress shoes down the stairs. Anxiety flooded his bloodstream. Was the whole family going to see him? They were probably all dressed up and were going to see his sorry excuse of a uniform. He was really regretting not listening to his mother.
And what about the kid? His age? His personality? His habits? The closer the footsteps got the more Akito realised he knew nothing about this kid he was supposed to take care of for the next—3 hours?! What if he wasn't potty trained? Would he have to—
The descent stopped. A middle-aged man walked into the room, followed by two young boys. The three of them paused upon entry, glaring at the newcomer. Akito felt his soul being stripped by the old man's glare. He hadn't felt this nervous in front of a crowd since Crawl Green. The man's eyes shot back up to his wife, a silent exchange taking place between them. When they fell back on Akito there was a firm frown moulded into his face. He eyed him judgementally one more time, lingering, before averting his gaze towards something in the doorway, pointing it a sharp glare.
A moment later, a small boy walked in. About ten, two-toned hair, grey eyes and a button-up and shorts. That was all there was to say about him. He was remarkably unremarkable in every single way.
"He will show you to his room."
Akito almost startled at his voice. There was a hard commanding tone to it, this was a man who was used to being obeyed. "Keep him in there. He is not allowed anywhere else." Akito nodded. He looked back to his wife, then "We will return at eleven PM. Ensure everything goes accordingly."
At that he made his exit, the rest of the family filing out behind him, leaving only him and the youngest child in the living room. The boy looked up at him, still-faced, like he was waiting for some kind of cue.
"Uh. Guess it's just us for a while huh. What's your name little guy?"
The boy blinked. "Aoyagi Toya." He stuck out a tiny stiff arm in greeting. Akito pet his head instead.
"Alright, Toya…" he trailed off, trying to figure out what to call him. What would most people call the kid of a rich family? "Sama? Is Toya-sama okay?" Toya stared up at him in awe. "Alright then, Toya-sama. You can call me Akito. Mind showing me the way to your room?"
Toya nodded, turning around and leading him upstairs. Akito grumbled silently to himself.
The pay better be good.
Written by a human in Ellipsus.