¹
Light footsteps and soft humming filled the house. Moving from one area to another, a man with shoulder-length blonde hair had a basket hanging off their right arm as he filled it with little trinkets wrapped in sheer white cloth and tied with a red silk ribbon. The trinkets varied from hand-carved animal figurines made of wood to beaded bracelets and necklaces. There were about ten in the basket.
The man's name was Nakamoto Yuta, a simple man who lived on the outskirts of a town in the Bae dukedom of the Araw Kingdom. He wasn't a lone man. He had his son who was peacefully sleeping in his room.
A loud 'cu' followed by a louder 'ckoo' resonated in the small house, startling Yuta who nearly dropped the wrapped bracelet he was about to place inside the basket.
“That darn clock,” he clicked his tongue, taking the basket off his arm and onto the floor. He turned to the cuckoo clock beside the fireplace, raising a clenched fist and shook it. He glared at the yellow canary that was making the loud sound, “better keep that beak of yours shut if you don't want to end up like the rest of you.” he threatened, the clenched fist unclenching before he pointed at the pile of broken clocks at the corner of the room.
The canary chirped before flapping its mechanical wind and hopped off its platform. It let out a loud metallic chirp, “your son is going to be late! Your son is going to be late!”
Yuta groaned, realising that the metallic bird was right. He rolled his eyes in contempt as the bird was now circling above his head, “yes, yes, I know. Be thankful you can talk or I would place you in a pile.”
The bird only ignored him, letting a loud metallic shriek as it followed Yuta to the bedroom.
Yuta pushed the ajar door and found his four-year-old son asleep. He shook his head. This kid, despite being told to wake up early, was asleep as a dead log. He shook his head.
The canary landed on his shoulder, "SHOULD I—"
“Will you shut your beak?” Yuta swore he would go deaf with the metal sound the canary would make every time it spoke. He gets that it would come with the bird seeing as it was made of metal. He just wished the bird wasn't as loud as it was.
He slowly approached his sleeping son. He kneeled on the floor, placing a gentle hand on top of the boy's hip before gently shaking him. “Taro-yah, wake up. It's time for school.”
Shotaro groaned, a loud grumble as he buried his face against his soft pillow. Yuta sighed, “Taro-yah.”
“sleepy~” the child whined, moving to say on his left side.
“But it's your first day of school.”
“Don't wanna~”
Yuta sighed. Last night Shotaro was so siked for his first day. He even refused to sleep early, afraid that he would be late for his first day. Well, at this rate he might be.
“Cuckoo! Shotaro wake up! It's almost school time!” the canary circled the sleeping boy, the sound of his metallic wings created an annoying squeak that made the child wince. “cu—”
“dada!” Shotaro rose from the bed, covering his ears with his hands. “make it stop!”
“cu—” Yuta raised his body to grab the bird, holding it tight as he used his other hand to pinch its beak shut.
“There,” he went back to kneeling on the floor. He smiled at his son, “It's school time. It's your first day. How are we feeling?”
“tired,” shotaro rubbed his eyes with his stubby arms, “Why do I have to go so early?”
“because it would take you a day to learn.” Not really. For children that were Shotaro's age, they just had to stay in school for half the day. “Are you scared?”
“A little?” Shotaro wasn't sure. This was going to be his first time interacting with other people and as his dada said, kids his age. “What if they think I'm weird?”
“For what?” Yuta now sat at the foot of Shotaro's bed. He stared worriedly at his son. “Taro-yah?”
Shotaro played with his fingers, “Because I live far away.”
“Ah,” Yuta understood Shotaro. The kids would question why he lived far away from the town. This fact could make the kids wary of him. He scooted closer to the child before grabbing his stubby hands and enclosing them in his slimmer hands. “Don't worry. Even if they think of you as weird, there are those who will think of you as someone cool. I mean, you live in the forest! Everyone would like that. You can tell them about all the animals that pass here.”
“Even the bears?” Shotaro looked at him expectantly with his dark brown eyes.
Yuta gulped nervously, “let's keep it with small critters, hm?”
“Cuckoo! 30 mins before school!” the canary announced, having circled the father and son after escaping Yuta's grasp.
“I should have gotten the hummingbird,” Yuta grumbled, placing the tamagoyaki beside the small serving of rice before placing the pan he used back on the stovetop. He took the small jar of ketchup, twisting the lid open before taking it off. He grabbed a nearby spoon and dipped it inside the jar, taking a small amount of the ketchup on the spoon before taking it out and tapping and transferring the ketchup to the plate beside the tamagoyaki. He picked up the plate before turning around, seeing his son petting the metal bird's head.
“Cuckoo! Someone has a hot head! Cuckoo!” the canary announced, hopping away from under Shotaro's finger before flapping its wings to float and fly away.
Yuta placed the plate in front of his son, “That bird,” he clicked his tongue as he shook his head, “I shouldn't have accepted that thing for the weird merchant. I'm stuck with it until it rusts.”
“But it's fun,” Shotaro poked his tamagoyaki with his fork, lifting it and bringing it close to his mouth. He opened wide, showing his off-white baby teeth and took a big bite of the foot. He hummed in satisfaction. His dada always made the best food. “So yummy.”
Yuta chuckled at his son's cuteness, “Thank you Taro-yah. Anyway, while you eat, listen to what I'm going to say, okay? See that basket?” he pointed at the weaved basket beside Shotaro, “that has some things you give to your teacher and your classmates, okay? Give each one a gift. Don't choose.”
“Why dada?”
“Why do I have to give to people?”
“Because you need to make a good impression,” Yuta was just scared people would pick on Shotaro. So instead of giving them a chance, he'd have his son be on everyone's good side before that happens.
“Why?”
Kids and their questions. Yuta wanted to sigh, but he knew his son was smart enough to understand that when he sighed it meant he was tired of the conversation. And that would be the last thing he wanted his son to think. That he was tired of having a conversation with him.
“Just because. Don't ask too many questions. You still have to brush your teeth and you're almost late.”
“Cuckoo! 7 o' clock!”
💤
Yuta fixed Shotaro's backpack that he made himself with cow leather. It was a roaming cow he encountered, okay? He didn't steal and slaughter. He had some dignity.
He was kneeling in front of the boy dressed in boy's shorts with a white polo inserted and blue suspenders that matched the shorts' color. He patted the boy's hair.
“Now what did I tell you about strangers?”
"to not talk to them."
“And the gifts?”
“to give everyone.”
Yuta smiled, proud. “Okay, and what about when school ends?”
Shotaro sighed, “to go home directly.”
“And never—”
“stray away from the main road.” Shotaro finished. “I know Dada. I'm not a baby anymore.”
Yuta snorted, getting up. He ruffled Shotaro's hair. “In my eyes you still are. Have a great day, okay Taro-yah? Make some friends.”
Shotaro looked down at his shoes. “What if no one wants to be my friend?”
“Now why would they do that?” Yuta asked him, placing his hands on the boy's shoulder, making Shotaro look up at him with his big dark brown eyes. “Everyone would want to be your friend?”
“really?” Shotaro looked up at his Dada expectantly.
“Really.”
“Promise?" Shotaro raised his pinky, asking his Dada to promise him that he'd make a friend.
Yuta removed one hand from his shoulder to intertwine their pinkies, “Promise my little raven.”
-TBC-
I decided to be a little early since I got good news. Can I share it? Hahaha this person managed to get her research group to have the highest grade in their block 🥹 that may mean an automatically 9 in our report card. Finally the motivation to continue writing. Laban!