Ehi was four and a half years old. If you asked her how old she was, she could show you with her fingers (although she hadn't quite figured out how to do the half part yet).
She could already spell some really big words and she had learnt to count past fifty. She didn't falter when she read the funnies section of the newspaper, even though they weren't really funny, and, sometimes, she even read the old people news. Egho called her smart and some other word that started with the letter 'P' she couldn't pronounce yet. Porridgey?
Ehi was four and a half and she went to bed after eating dinner and watching Teen Titans Go at exactly seven pm.
She did not know how that night began because she was fast asleep.
▪️▪️▪️
Nosa pressed down his well combed hair as he hummed a bit of the 'There's a Zombie On Your Lawn' song from the original PVZ game and tied the knot of his sweatpants. He took in a deep breaths, trying to get his heart to slow down but it only seemed to speed up.
There was no logical reason for him to be nervous. He was going to Irekan's house and they were going to watch anime and the possibility of him vomiting undigested jollof on Irekan's shoe was little to none. There was no pressure on him to do this. He didn't even have to go. He didn't make any promises and it's not like he and Irekan were friends. Nothing would happen if he stayed in bed all day and did nothing. He wasn't obligated to go spend time with somebody he couldn't even stand.
So why did he wake up at 6am to finish the rest of his chores? Why was he getting all dressed up in his most comfortable T-shirt and favourite shorts? Why were his hands shaking? Why couldn't he quell the anxiety roiling in his stomach?
"I should not be doing this," he said to the mirror. His reflection stared right back at him; the panicky eyed, one strand of hair on his chin and pimpled forehead image of himself reminding him of exactly why going to Irekan's house was a bad idea. "I SHOULD NOT BE DOING THIS!"
"OGA, SIR, SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!" Someone from the next compound shouted.
"I'm sorry," Nosa called out his apology. "No vex!"
"Shut up!"
Nosa picked up his comb and began working it through his coarse hair for what had to be the tenth time this morning. This was a bad idea. He and Irekan were as incompatible as mangoes and groundnuts. Irekan was everything he wasn't; social where Nosa was introverted. Athletic where Nosa loathed sports. Handsome where Nosa was plain. Irekan was the sun stuffed into the body of a teenage boy. Nosa was a lone asteroid floating in the dark, endless vastness of space.
Circle pegs and square holes. Day and night. Bread and water.
They didn't fit.
And Nosa knew that befriending an extrovert was always bad news.
Still, he tugged at the hem of his black T-shirt, retied the drawstrings of his grey shorts and plucked out his sorry excuse of a beard with a wince. His traitorous legs carried him out of his room, his mouth announced "Mummy, I'm going out," and, despite the fact that his brain was screaming at him to turn around, he kept strolling down his street towards the field.
It was almost 8am on a Saturday morning and his street was lively in a way he'd never seen it.
He only ever came outside early in the morning on his way to school and in the afternoon after school when the road was usually occupied by other students. Friday evenings brought him to a quiet street of few people ready to retire for the weekend. Saturday morning outside was a scene he'd never seen before.
People were milling about, sweeping the front of their compounds, cleaning gutters and exchanging pleasantries and grievances. Baba Ebenezer, the old man who lived in a house without a fence, griped that his grandchildren were assholes who never came to visit him and called Nosa a 'rude young gangster' when he walked by without greeting. A baby strapped to the back of a very tired looking woman cried while she arranged biscuits into a display at the front of her store. Naked children splashed around the communal tap at the end of the street, tossing handfuls of water at each other while their elder ones fetched jerry cans of water.
Nosa walked with his hands in his pockets and his head down, hoping he looked like just another boy on his way to smoke weed or something dumb like that and not like a kid who had just seen the world for the first time. His anxiety swelled from sleepy serpent coiled in his stomach to yam leaves creeping up his skin and tightening around his throat. Everything was so bright-- so loud. People were surely watching him. Talking about him. They were definitely laughing at how he hung his head low and how his back arched and how the pockets of his shorts bulged as he clenched and unclenched his fists in them. One person had already called him rude for not greeting, the other adults were probably thinking the same thing. They were probably pointing him out as proof that his generation had no manners. Would they tell his parents later?
Nosa increased his pace. Then reduced it, in case he looked like he was running. Then increased it again because he did want to run.
This was why he had no friends and never left his house. Everyone noticed he was weird at some point. They always found out he wasn't normal when they got close enough. His primary school friends left, Agoz did too and so did the last extrovert he hung out with-- the last Irekan before Irekan. He was the common denominator in his string of failed friendships.
He was the problem.
How long would it be before Irekan left too?
Nosa was making a mistake that was only going to end up hurting him. You'd think that he'd learnt his lesson after everything but it turned out he was even more stupid than he thought.
"I should not be doing this," he whispered to himself.
What was anime really? Just fancily drawn cartoons with a penchant for depicting women with really big boobs. He couldn't watch that! At least, not in a house that wasn't his.
Besides, he couldn't be friends with Irekan. Having to lead him around school was one thing and talking to him in church was another, but going to Irekan's house-- carrying himself to the dwelling place of the enemy-- that was dangerous. It was foolish. It was a mistake.
And Nosa was tired of making mistakes.
He heard Irekan's wild laughter before he even saw him.
Irekan was already on the field when Nosa got there, frolicking with a big, black dog. Literally frolicking.
He was holding the hands-- paws-- of his dog up, kicking each of his legs to the side as he skipped around with the dog standing on its hind legs. He looked like a character at the end of a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse episode. The dog had what Nosa assumed to be a grin on its wide face, tongue lolling out the side of it's mouth and eyes squinting and it danced a jig with its master.
Nosa never thought he'd ever have to use the word 'frolicking,' he never thought he'd have to use the word 'jig' either but here he was.
Irekan laughed again, louder and happier than the first one and all the warning lights flickering in Nosa's head shut off. He'd make a thousand more mistakes if it meant listening to that laugh again.
Nosa froze.
What the fuck?
Irekan turned a slow circle with his dog and noticed Nosa frozen at the edge of the field with his brows furrowed in confusion.
"You're here!" Irekan enthused, his smile brightening as he let the dog go.
The warning lights came on again, although Nosa wasn't sure if it was for the same reason.
He lifted his hand up in a wave, "Wagwan?" His voice sounded choked, small. He cleared his throat and tried again, "How far?"
"I'm cool," Irekan replied, resting a hand on the head of his dog. "You?"
"I'm okay."
The distance between them remained, neither of them taking a step forward. Irekan was dressed in a soft blue T-shirt dotted with bleach spots and a pair of black shorts. His feet were tucked in ugly green rubber slippers, the cheap ones that cost two hundred naira.
Irekan's light brown eyes scanned over Nosa's face, taking him in. Nosa couldn't help but wonder what Irekan thought when he looked at him-he didn't understand what kept him rooted in place. They were two guys and interaction was always easy between guys. All they needed to do was clasp hands or nod their greetings or walk away without saying anything. They weren't girls, they didn't need to hug or kiss each other's cheeks or talk about their boyfriends or whatever girls did.
Interaction was supposed to be easy.
So why was Irekan scrutinizing him and why did his gaze make Nosa nervous?
He wanted to say something funny, to do anything clear the awkward air between them but Nosa wasn't going to approach the guy with a murder machine beside him.
The dog, who he assumed to be Uvo, was a huge Rottweiler with a shiny black coat, a long pink tongue and canines that would have no problem tearing through his flesh. The dog did reach up to Irekan's waist, just like he had described and it was sitting down at it's masters side, breathing hard.
Nosa had never been particularly afraid of animals but he was no fool either. Besides, Irekan had invited him, he had no business initiating contact.
Suddenly, Uvo barked and Nosa jumped ten feet in the air, his heartbeat skipping as a surprised 'Jesus' fell out of his mouth. His gaze hardened into a glare when he saw Irekan doubling over with laughter.
Nosa frowned. "What's so funny?" He demanded.
Irekan's laughter echoed across the empty field, shook his shoulders and made him double over. He rested his hands on his knees and wheezed, trying to catch his breath.
"You..." He said, his laugh trailing off to a chuckle. "You act so stoic that I never knew you'd be scared of--" He paused to wipe at the corners of his eyes and Nosa's glare deepened--"a puppy."
Nosa looked at the dog, at the pink mouth that widened to reveal jagged teeth. "That's no puppy."
Irekan shook his head slowly, the corners of his lips pulled into a grin he couldn't quite get rid off.
"Come closer," He encouraged, calmly. "I swear, Uvo doesn't bite."
"If I had a penny for every owner who said that before their dog bit," Nosa deadpanned.
Irekan's grin was small, soft. "You'd be poor," he replied. "I swear on my honour as a black man, my dog won't bite."
Nosa eyed him warily. "Bro, you're like... fifteen. I don't think you classify as a man."
Irekan's grin widened, almost like he was trying to force his mouth to stay still but was failing. "Seventeen. Stop being a pussy. Uvogin's harmless."
Uvo sat patiently by Irekan's side, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, watching Nosa with soulful black eyes. Yes, those puppy dog eyes did look adorable but Nosa looked down at the canines and remained where he was. Irekan laughed again, softer this time.
"I'm serious, Nosa," He said and Nosa tried not to cringe at the way Irekan's accent made his name sound. "Uvo isn't a guard dog. The guard dogs are at home and they do love to use their teeth." He paused, as if contemplating something then added, "My parents bought Uvo to keep me company. He's even allowed inside."
As if to confirm what his owner had just said, Uvo collapsed into a lying position, then rolled himself over, showing his stomach. Irekan smiled, went down on one knee and began to rub Uvo's soft underbelly, muttering about what a good dog he was. Nosa couldn't help himself, he covered the remaining distance between him and the dog and went down on one knee. Uvo's stomach was covered in soft hairs and Nosa rubbed in small circles, much to the dog's delight.
He turned to look at Irekan, his fingers still running through soft fur. Irekan was smiling down at his dog, his eyes bright. Nosa took in the sharp crook of his nose, the light stubble lining his jaw, the dimple dotting the corner of his mouth.
Nosa was still staring when Irekan turned to look at him.
"I told you he doesn't bite," he said, his voice small.
Nosa tore his gaze away, ignoring the heat that licked at the tips of his ears. "He only grazes people with his teeth."
Irekanmi made a humming sound at the back of his throat. "He does that sometimes. Then you have to let him know he's hurting you," he scratched beneath Uvo's jaw and the dog let out a long, satisfied whine. "Aside from that, Uvo is a big baby. Aren't you? Aren't you a big baby?" He cooed.
Uvo let out a happy whine in response and Irekan's smile widened.
Nosa chewed down on his bottom lip, biting back his laughter. Irekan may be annoying but he wasn't so bad when he was baby-talking to his dog.
They knelt there for a while petting a very pleased Uvogin before Irekan gave Uvo's stomach one last pat and stood up. Nosa followed suit, pausing midway when Uvo began to whine in protest. Nosa's confused look moved from the supine dog to a very amused Irekan, then back to the dog like he was an indecisive cartoon character.
"Just leave him," Irekan explained. "He's an attention whore. If we keep petting him, we'll never get to my place."
Ah, yes. The house I wasn't supposed to go to.
Between worrying about how best to greet someone who wasn't his friend and petting a good boy, Nosa had completely forgotten about why he had to do both those things in the first place. His nerves returned and he stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from fiddling them.
He tried not to think of everything that could go wrong today-- he was just going to a friend's house, what could go wrong? Albeit he didn't classify Irekanmi as his friend (he didn't even think of him as an acquaintance), all the cons flooded his mind like it was that one Bible passage minus the ark.
What if he did something weird... like fart in Irekan's living room? What if he got flustered when big anime titties showed up on the screen? He'd never had to worry about that before but according to some Reddit forums he'd checked out, anime tiddies could legit cause aneurysms. What if Irekan was a cultist and all his dogs were the reason why no one had found a dead body around him?
What if he was the next victim?
He'd stopped Zombies from eating his brains multiple times, even on the hardest levels but he was pretty sure he wouldn't fare well against a hardened cultist.
Oh God, what if Irekan thought he was the cultist?
"Are you okay, G?" Irekan asked, startling Nosa out of his spiraling thoughts. "You look a little pale."
Nosa swallowed down hard and shook his head. "I'm good."
Irekan nodded once, his expression serious. "Good. Let's get going then, Queen Mother is expecting us."
If Nosa looked pale before, he surely looked lifeless now.
"Pardon?" He squeaked out.
Once more, Irekan doubled over laughing, clutching his chest and wheezing so hard he sounded like he had birds in his lungs. Uvo, excited by the noise, flipped himself onto his feet and began barking, hopping around his master.
"God, Nosa," Irekan got out between deep breaths. "Learn to relax. You keep staring at me like I'm about to pull out a gun and end you."
Nosa managed to keep his face straight and passive but his mortification inflamed his cheeks and sent him down a road of self depreciating comments. How could he be such an idiot? Irekan clearly meant him no harm and he was jumping into conclusions faster than Ehi in a river of juice.
He took a hand out of his pocket and used it to rub the back of his neck, staring down at Irekan's surprisingly nicely manicured toes instead of his face.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm not good at this."
"Good at what, exactly?" Irekan asked.
Multiple answers popped up in his mind; good at being normal. Good at making friends. Good at being comfortable anywhere that wasn't his bed.
He settled for the least abnormal.
"Not good at a lot of stuff."
Irekan stared at him for a long while, his eyes flickering through too many emotions in one moment for Nosa to decipher. Finally, he tilted his head in the direction of the empty street and said, "For real, let's go. Before we waste the entire day here."
Nosa tried not to let the obvious change of subject get to him. He wasn't used to people just ignoring things like that. Sometimes his mouth didn't say the right words and his brain didn't think the right things and nerves overpowered his verbal skills to the point that talking just seemed pointless. And, whenever he babbled, people were always quick to point out how 'weird' he was. How he said 'funny things' and how he should try to 'act normal for once'.
Nosa was used to knowing that people thought that because not knowing didn't feel much better. He preferred hearing it directly to seeing their faces contort in disgust and hear the whispers pass behind his back. He wasn't used to indifference and, he found that it didn't feel nice either.
Irekan's nonchalance dug underneath his skin like ants burrowing soft earth and he wanted nothing more than to hear what Irekan was surely thinking.
'Omo, this guy isn't normal.'
Nosa looked up at Irekan who was strolling away with his dog, both of them walking with a little skip in their steps that was way too jovial for a normal Saturday morning.
Irekan glanced over his shoulder and called back, "Let's go, Oga. My house isn't too far."
Nosa remained where he was for a while. He couldn't figure out Irekan's deal, couldn't get his 'ish'. But he would not ask.
He never asked.
Irekan led him down a series of streets that Nosa already knew. Before his family had moved to their current house ten years ago, they used to live in a block of flats on a different street but in the same neighborhood. Nosa knew the roads that connected them well. Sometimes, he walked down to the mallam shop in his old neighborhood to buy a packet of gum or some sweets simply because he could and because walking was a good workout. He liked to walk in the evenings, when the air was cool and there weren't many people on the streets-- when he could go to his old neighborhood and no one would ask him how his family was doing.
Uvo trotted dutifully beside them, occasionally stopping to sniff at something fascinating at the side of the road. They walked in comfortable silence-a stark contrast from their first meeting where Irekan talked until Nosa got tired and Nosa remained tired and irritated until his tiredness got tired and irritated.
They stopped in front of a large compound surrounded by a white wall fence at end of Gabe Egharevba Avenue and Nosa immediately recognized the place. When he was a kid, he and Egho theorized that the house was haunted because it was surrounded by tall trees and hawks liked to circle it's skies. Also, there was a rumor going on around the kids in his old neighborhood that the ghost of a woman and her baby walked around the house at night. They tested their bravery by seeing who could scale the fence and pluck a fruit from the mango tree in the compound, a leaf when mangoes were out of season.
Nosa never did it. He wasn't brave enough.
Egho went the extra mile by filling a bowl with mangoes and showing the other kids.
Tall trees still surrounded the compound and, although there were no hawks in sight, it suddenly seemed unwise to follow Irekan into a haunted house.
"How long have you lived here?" Nosa asked.
Irekan moved to unlock the gate. "Less than a month, why?"
Nosa looked up at one of the mango tree, a large black bird was staring down at them with red eyes. He swallowed hard. "No reason."
Irekan shook his head, the smile on his lips betraying his emotions, and slid the deadbolt aside with a small 'clank'. Immediately a chorus of barks filled the air, shocking Nosa so hard that he jumped. The bird flew out of the tree.
For the second time that day, Irekanmi burst out laughing.
"Chill bro. They're in their cages," He said. "They just like to bark when people open the gate."
"You should have warned me," Nosa growled, rubbing his chest in an attempt to calm his erratic heart.
"Nah men," Irekan disagreed with a smirk. "That was funny and I'm glad I didn't say anything. Now come on."
Irekan led him down a paved driveway nestled between manicured lawns to the modern white bungalow at the center of the large compound. A bicycle lay leaning on the wall at the side of the house and a black Toyota rested in the two vehicle car port.
"My parents aren't home," Irekan said in manner of explanation, gesturing to the empty space beside the Toyota.
Nosa wondered if Irekan only brought him over because he knew his parents wouldn't be around or if he had told them he had invited a friend over and they still had things to do. He didn't ask but Irekan murmured something about them being at a wedding as he opened the door.
"Leave your shoes out here, please," Irekanmi said, pointing at the welcome mat in front of the door.
He kicked off his slippers and bent down to wipe Uvo's paws with a rag while Nosa pulled his sneakers off.
Nosa spent an unnecessary amount of time brushing his legs against the rough surface of the welcome mat while Irekan tried to calm Uvo down long enough to clean him up. The verandah was small but homey, with tiled floors and well worn slippers arranged in a corner. The power meter with a bird's nest on it. Nosa's mum usually got him to remove whatever nest the birds managed to build in their verandah because birds pooped and she didn't have the time to clean it. It bothered him that he no longer heard birdsong right outside his living room.
Of course, he wasn't going to tell Irekan that.
"So, how are we running this thing?" Nosa asked. "Are you going to send it to my phone? Borrow me your flash?"
Irekan paused what he was doing to look up at Nosa, giving Uvo just enough time to get his paw off the rag and his tongue on Irekan's hand.
Irekan reached out and scratched behind Uvo's ear without looking, making the dog whine.
"I never even considered those as options," he replied, still petting his dog. "I just assumed you'd watch it here."
Irekan did say they'd come to his place and 'chill', whatever the heck that meant, he'd just assumed otherwise.
Nosa gave a single, firm nod. "No wham," he said. It was no problem. He could get behind hanging around.
Irekan straightened himself up. "I could connect my flash to the TV but I don't think there's light," he said, opening the second net mesh door and stepping out of the way for Uvo to rush into the house. "Besides anime is best watched with snacks and my mother would totally kill me if she finds the living room dirty."
Nosa followed Irekan into the house, trying to focus on replying before he looked around. "I know how to clean up after myself," he said.
Irekan shrugged. "True but what fun is that?" He flung both hands to the side, once again startling Nosa. "When you watch anime, you're supposed to be completely enraptured in the plot playing out before you. The smooth animation, the unique art style, the perfection of the voice actors bringing the characters to life. Who wants to dust their chin-chin crumbs when they're reading subtitles?"
Nosa was still rubbing his chest when Irekan finished talking. If they continued at this rate, he'll be shocked out of his skin and he'd never return.
"So, where?" He managed to ask.
Irekan walked further into the living room and Nosa followed, closing the net door behind them. Light from outside flooded the house.
"My laptop, my room," Irekan shrugged. "Except you're uncomfortable."
Irekanmi's suggestion had all the makings of a good set up. Two teens alone in a possibly haunted house. Didn't they make horror movies with that plot?
But Nosa was tired of being scared and Irekan was friendly. Annoying, but still friendly. He didn't trust it but he didn't have to trust anything for him to have a good day.
Nosa cleared his throat to keep his voice from wavering. "Why would I be uncomfortable? It's just anime."
Minus the possibility of big tiddies and boys who powered up by screaming, it was just anime.
Irekan flashed him a grin that sent a not entirely unpleasant shiver down his spine.
"Yeah," he said, his voice small, almost conspiratorial. "Why would you be uncomfortable?"
Nosa tried not to read meaning into his tone. Instead, he focused on the living room. Judging by his accent, Nosa thought Irekan would just take the American movie format and offer him a tour of the house. But Irekan busied himself arranging the throw pillows on the couch and arm chairs, muttering something about his mother and her love for a spotless living room so he was on his own.
Nosa glanced around the room. The parlour was a large, comfortable space with blue curtains, cream, leather furniture, a brown coffee table and a large flat screen TV on the wall. There were only two family portraits up the walls; one, an old-soaked in sepia picture of a handsome young man and a pretty lady in Yoruba attire. The man's agabada hung off him like a sack on a single potato and, in the picture, he's in the middle of scooping one arm of it up, his mouth is wide open in a laugh that probably sounded as happy as it looked. The woman's gele hair tie is askew but she's smiling at the man like he's the first thing she's seen in her life. Nosa recognized the laugh, the smile, the aura of mirth. Irekan looked just like his father when he laughed.
"Your parents?" Nosa asked, hooking a thumb at the portrait.
Irekan flicked on a light switch but no light came on. "Fuck Nepa," he muttered before he replied. "Yeah. Their wedding day."
The second picture was of the man and woman, older now, with an angry looking Irekan sitting between them. The picture looked newer, cleaner, not a scuff on the shiny frame. Nosa refrained from reaching out to touch the crease between picture Irekan's brows.
There were no baby pictures on the wall which was odd. In Nosa's experience, Nigerians had no qualms advertising the baby pictures of their kids in the living room, even the ones where they look drunk on breast milk. They probably weren't done unpacking yet and still had boxes full of pictures the walls had no nails for stacked somewhere.
Every other image in the room was religious iconography; two portraits of Mary holding an infant Jesus, one of them life-sized. Two of Jesus including a crucifix hanging at the door, a picture of St. John Bosco and three (which, he thought, was more than should be in anyone's living room) of a very nude, very wistful looking St. Sebastian pierced by so many arrows, he looked like a pin cushion.
"Okay," Irekan announced, clapping his hands together. Nosa turned to see him standing next to one of the sofas. "Let's go before Uvo thinks I've abandoned him. You do not want to hear his sad howls."
Nosa didn't laugh.
He turned away from the pictures and followed behind Irekan, walking past the modern dining room and down a hall with four doors, two on either side. Irekanmi led him to the first one on the left. If the fact that Irekan was leading him there didn't tell Nosa that that was his room, the huge poster if a spiky haired, blonde cartoon boy in an orange jacket and the sign the caution sign that said 'Keep Out' on the door would have been enough indication.
Irekan's room wasn't big, but it was neat and very... him.
His room was as loud and open as he was. From the posters hanging on his wall, Nosa immediately knew Irekan liked some band called Jorəʊmi. The books on his shelves said he liked reading although, from what Nosa could see, it was mostly comics, graphic novels and Manga. He loved music. There were several CD cases arranged in a box on one of the shelves and there was a CD player on his dresser. A brown acoustic guitar leaned on the wall in a corner.
His bed was made in that way that you'd know he was the kind of person to make his bed everyday and not that he remembered he was having friends over so he made it. There was a huge pillow on the floor with a blanket and Uvo was lying on it, chewing happily on a stuffed toy.
Being in Irekanmi's room was like being introduced to him again. This time, without words. Everything was on full display, including one more framed photo of impaled St. Sebastian.
"Your family really loves St. Sebastian," Nosa commented.
Irekan laughed, reaching up to grab a jar from the top of the tallest shelf. "Catholics and patron saints, am I right?" he jibed, rummaging through the jar.
Nosa couldn't remember what St. Sebastian was the patron of and he didn't bother to ask. He could Google it later. Besides, his family was Catholic too and he knew how his parents could sometimes buy sacramental objects and holy imagery for the most absurd reason. He had a picture of St. Augustine in his living room because his Mum said she liked the saint's 'big brain energy.'
Irekan deposited the jar back on the shelf and turned to Irekan, extending something to him. Two brown cartoon bone shaped biscuits rested between his fingers.
"Ehmmm..." Nosa uttered, confused.
The corner of Irekan's lips quirked up. "They're for Uvo."
"Good, I don't think I'd be able to stomach dog biscuits."
Irekan barked out a laugh and Nosa let him assume he was joking. He used the time to swallow down the very serious 'are dog biscuits biscuits for dogs or biscuits made out of dogs?' he was about to ask.
As if summoned by a god, Uvo materialized in front of Irekan, craning his head up at the snacks Irekan was holding high above his head and whining pleadingly. If he took one bounding leap upwards, he'd definitely be able to snatch the biscuits out of Irekan's hand. But it was either he'd forgotten he was a giant or he was just very well behaved, because he didn't. Nosa watched him stamp his legs and beg like a puppy.
"Sit," Irekan commanded. When Uvo didn't do anything, he tried again. "Sit or no treats for you."
Immediately, Uvo sat his behind down, his tongue hanging out. Irekan lowered the biscuit to him and he snapped it up. "That one's for being a good boy."
Irekan turned to Nosa with a mischievous grin. Nosa had seen that look before, Ehi did it when she was about to pour juice all over herself or rub sand on her stomach; the wide lipped, twinkling eyed, 'I'm going to fuck up the rest of your day' look.
"The second is for tormenting Nosa."
A frown pulled at the middle of Nosa's forehead. "Wha-"
Irekan cut him off. "Fetch."
Before Nosa could comprehend what was happening, a doggy biscuit went into the air and so did Uvo. He barely had enough time to catch the treat before he found himself on the tiled floor with a huge, slobbering dog on him.
Nosa let out a breathless 'Fuck,' the wind completely knocked out of him and Irekan started laughing again, so loud that it shook his frame, so much that he began wheezing like a maniac. He did that a lot, Nosa noted from his very uncomfortable position, laughed like his lungs were built for the specific purpose of expressing mirth.
"You have terrible reflexes," Irekan remarked, his shoulders still shaking as his laughter dwindled.
"Get your mutt off me," Nosa managed to groan. Uvo was somehow even heavier than he looked and the weight of him on Nosa's chest made him lightheaded with oxygen deficiency.
Through the blood filling his ears, Nosa heard, "Uvo come," then a slightly affronted, "My boy is not a mutt, he's a good boy. Aren't you, Uvogin? Aren't you?"
Nosa lifted up his head and, though his vision still swam, he could make out Irekan rubbing Uvo's ruff viciously as he cooed sweet words at the dog. Nosa let his head drop again, another groan expelling from his lips. He took back every remotely kind thing he'd e thought about Irekanmi, the guy was an annoying werey, a madman and he should be treated as such.
A hand appeared in front of his face, a grinning face behind it.
"Sorry for letting my dog attack you," Irekan apologized, looking anything but sorry.
Nosa ignored the hand and stood himself up, brushing down his shirt. After all this dog touching, he'd need to wash his hands with Dettol when he got home.
"It's fine," he murmured. "Are we going to watch this thing or..."
He let his voice trail off, hoping that Irekan got the message from the seriousness of his tone. And, judging by the way his smile shrank, he did; no more games, let's get this over with and be done.
Irekan grabbed his laptop off his desk and Nosa moved to stand by the reading table. There were multiple school brochures on it, the one for St. Pere Guttman's was right on top of the pile. He slid it to the bottom.
"I kept thinking about the best anime to show a beginner." Irekan said, his tone devoid of humour. "It was harder than I thought."
"What about attack titan?" Nosa asked. Although he had let Irekan know that he didn't watch anime, he didn't want to look like a fool so he'd done his research. He learnt about anime boobs from Reddit, shouting to power up from YouTube clips and Attack Titan from a Screenrant Top 10 anime list. Calling the number one anime would make him look pretentious so he'd picked number two. Besides, Full metal brothers alchemist was not an easy name to remember.
Irekan gave him a small, amusing smile. "Attack on Titan," he corrected.
Nosa's cheeks flared again and he resisted the urge to face palm himself.
"I thought about it but some think it's too brutal."
"Is it?" Nosa asked.
Irekan grinned. "I guess. But it's so good so you'll end up watching it. Not today sha," He added the last part quickly. "Isayama is still playing with our emotions."
Nosa didn't know who Isayama was. He shrugged and murmured. "Anything is fine."
▪️▪️▪️
Nosa sat perched at the edge of Irekan's bed while he tapped at his laptop.
Irekan opened the Hunter X Hunter folder on his laptop and clicked on episode one.
"You can get comfortable," said gesturing at Nosa. "I'm not going to kill you or whatever you're thinking. You look like you want to run."
Nosa looked down at himself. The way he sat, he looked like the dictionary definition of uncomfortable with himself perched at the edge of Irekan's bed, his back straight, his hands clasped tightly between his legs and his eyes roving around like he expected something to jump him.
"Sorry," he said, freeing his hands.
"Don't apologize, enjoy."
Irekan left him on the bed with the laptop and Nosa begun his journey into the world of anime in a room that wasn't his, with a boy that definitely wasn't his friend and a dog that slept soundly for a murder machine.
They remained in relative silence, the only sounds being that of the show playing, the sound of Uvo's soft breathing, the chirping of birds in the trees outside and the soft sounds of pages being flipped at intervals. Irekan read a graphic novel at his desk while Nosa stayed on the bed and watched the adventures of Gon and his friends, only commenting when he wanted Nosa to note one character or the other. Nosa didn't make a sound; he didn't laugh at the funny parts or talk about the cool action scenes or ramble when the characters did something daring.
He didn't want Irekan to know that he was enjoying himself. He didn't want to ruin whatever this was.
When it was noon, Irekan brought him gala and La'casera and they both at ate. When the power came back on, Irekan shouted 'Up NEPA!' and Nosa bit down on his laughter.
When he had to go, Irekan said "Same time next week," and that was it.
Nosa had Saturday plans and he liked the feeling that came along with it.