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Turning on his blinker, Leona curses quietly under his breath as he waits for the cars ahead to pass so he can make his turn to the left.
There’s faint music playing from the speakers but he doesn’t really care for whatever is playing. It may as well not exist for how much he doesn’t pay it any mind, too occupied with thoughts of what lies ahead and why he’s out driving at nine in the morning instead of laying burrowed deep within his blankets.
Cheka’s sick, the person on the other end of the call had said. And we can’t get ahold of his parents.
They’re out of town, he’d answered, voice rough from being awoken from his precious sleep. I’m taking care of him.
Then, if you could, please come in and pick him up.
Leona doesn’t understand why they phrased it as a request – it’s not as if there is any other option. What, is he just going to leave his sick nephew at school to catch a few more Z’s?
(It’s a tempting thought, he won’t lie.)
So now he’s going to pick up the sick brat, deal with some coughing or vomit or other nasty stuff, catch the illness himself, and spend a week miserably lying about in bed. Whoop-de-doo.
“Where’s Ruggie when you need him?” he mutters under his breath, the city’s school entrance coming into view, guarded by trees and a sign with the school’s name.
He slows down, turns on his blinker one more time, and turns into the entrance. The parking lot is somewhat small, mostly meant to hold the faculty’s cars and no more, but there’s enough room that Leona can pick whatever spot he wants.
He hesitates at first, not wanting to park directly beside anyone’s car, but he thinks better of it and finds a spot as close to the entrance as he can. Cheka won’t be feeling well and walking a long distance might make it worse.
Sighing once more, Leona opens the door and climbs out. His keys clink as he grabs and stuffs them into his pocket. Raising his head, Leona eyes the familiar school and realizes he’s a full grown adult now. He’s not the child he remembers being as he looked up at this school. He’s in his twenties with a driver’s license; he’s an adult, an uncle, and an emergency contact.
He remembers always being looked over to make sure he was impeccably dressed as a child. Now here he is, wearing plain sweatpants, sandals, and a muscle shirt that is probably wrinkled to hell. Here he is, long hair barely brushed and keys clinking in his pockets.
Here he is, Leona Kingscholar.
Walking into the building, Leona vaguely remembers where the office is supposed to be and strides towards it, hands in his pockets. There’s no kids out and about, thankfully — they must all be in class. Leona wonders what their schedules look like compared to a high schooler’s or a college student’s. He’s pretty sure they don’t have a different teacher for every subject, but they probably don’t have the same one for everything either.
He enters the office. No matter what age he is, this place is always so silent and still, even with the receptionist flipping through papers and a hunched over Cheka sitting on a chair.
Leona raps his knuckles on the wall.
The two look up, and suddenly the room isn’t as still anymore because Cheka brightens up like a sunflower in bloom and hops off of his chair. “Unca Leona!”
Just one look at the brat lets Leona see how his cheeks are flushed with fever and his mouth is a little wet, as if he had washed his face earlier. Kid probably threw up and had one of the teachers help tidy him up a bit.
Clicking his tongue, Leona points at the chair. “Sit back down. If you move too much you might get nauseous.”
Usually, Cheka would cling onto his legs and beg to be picked up, so it’s a testament to how he’s feeling when he merely pouts before hopping back into his tiny seat.
Leona heads to the desk, mostly sure that there is some sort of signing procedure he’s supposed to follow.
“You are Leona Kingscholar, correct?” the receptionist asks, typing into her little computer. He doesn’t recognize her. “Cheka’s uncle?”
“Yeah,” Leona answers gruffly.
“Alright, just sign here.” She gestures to a little screen on the desk, where the time and Cheka’s name faintly show. Leona dutifully picks up the attached pen and signs his name.
“Thank you. Have a great day.”
Leona turns on his heel and looks at Cheka. Mentally thinking of how to convince Ruggie or Yuuka to come over and help him take care of the brat, he says, “C’mere, you’re not walking the whole way back.”
The smile Cheka gives him leaves Leona feeling heavy. Added to how awkward (and a little grossed out) he is as he scoops Cheka up into his arms and exits the office, he feels familiar exhaustion begin to settle deeply into his bones.
Cheka starts to wriggle a bit and hum into his ear. “It’s a small world after all~”
Leona’s eye twitches. “Oi,” he says as they approach the entrance doors. “Anything but that.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Ugh. Kids. “It’s creepy when you sing it like that. If you’re gonna sing, sing something more cheery, brat. It’s too early for that horror movie sh—stuff.”
“Heehee~” Great, the kid’s happy now, squirming in Leona’s hold to look him in the eye. “Did I scaaaare you?”
“Scared my sleep away is what you did,” Leona grumbles as he spots his car. He thinks for a minute that he should probably get in the habit of locking it after he leaves it, then decides he’s too lazy to remember something like that. Better to let Ruggie be the overly cautious one. “You should be repenting, brat.”
Cheka giggles, but he sounds a little dreamy. “You’re so weird.”
“I don’t want to hear that from you,” Leona says, opening up the door to the backseat. He sits Cheka down and buckles his seatbelt for him, taking note of how the kid yawns and droops. The car ride home will probably knock him out in ten seconds flat – Cheka’s always been easily lulled to sleep as long as he’s in a moving car. Maybe it’s something to do with the vibrations? The world passing by?
Kids are weird.
Leona plops himself into the driver’s seat and looks at Cheka through the rear view mirror. Kid looks tired. “We’re going home and you’re going straight to bed, got that?”
Cheka yawns. “But I wanna play with you, Unca.”
Leona snorts as he turns on the ignition and pulls out his phone. “Absolutely not. I’m going to bed too, brat.”
“Can I sleep with you, Unca? Pleaaase? Pretty pretty please?”
“You’re hilarious.” Leona holds his phone up to his ear, silently promising bloody murder on Ruggie if he doesn’t pick up within three rings—
“What do you want, Leona?” Ruggie’s exasperated voice says. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping right now?”
“Tell me about it,” Leona says as he begins to pull out of the parking lot. “The kid got sick and I had to pick him up early.”
“And this is my problem because…?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to feed him soup. So hurry up and come over – soup isn’t going to make itself.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to babysit two sleepy lions!”
“In the jungle,” a quiet voice sings, “the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight.”
Leona thinks for a half a second that it’s Cheka, but then he realizes it has a weird tinny quality and the voice is too mature.
“Is Yuuka with you?”
“Uh. Nooo.”
“Yuuka? The pretty lady?” Leona can hear how Cheka starts to come back to life, can almost see him bouncing in his seat already without having to look into the mirror. “Is she coming over? She’s suuuper nice!”
A smirk spreads slowly on his face, unbidden but not unwelcome. “Ruggie too.”
“Ruggie? YES! I wanna play hide and seek, and hopscotch! Ooh, he always cooks the funniest foods too, can I have some?”
“Hear that? You’ll break the kid’s heart if you don’t come.”
There’s grumbling on the other end, and Leona’s keen hearing lets him pick up on Yuuka persuading a very reluctant Ruggie. It’s not long until Ruggie says, “Oh alright. We’ll be there in ten. Asshole with his own house, can’t believe this…”
“What was that?”
“Hmm? Me? I didn’t say anything.”
“That’s what I thought.” Leona hangs up before he has to deal with any more complaining and focuses his attention on the road. Ruggie and Yuuka can deal with the kid while he gets some blissful sleep, but before that happens he needs to actually get home.
Preferably before the kid throws up again.
They arrive three minutes before the other two are supposed to, so it’s up to Leona to unbuckle Cheka and pick him back up, wary of any future nastiness. The car ride worked its magic and now he’s dozing, mumbling unintelligibly as Leona secures his grip on the kid since Cheka’s too tired to do it by himself.
His door is unlocked – it was just a short trip, there was no real reason to worry – so Leona just turns the knob and gently kicks the door open, stepping into the familiar smell of home. He’s half tempted to set the kid down on the sofa and just dive for his own bed, but Leona’s pretty sure that’s a terrible idea so he doesn’t. Tucking the kid in bed it is. Ugh.
His house has been increasingly baby proofed throughout the grand total of three days Cheka’s been staying with him. The rascal is just so hyperactive – there’s hardly anything breakable, flammable, or valuable out in the open where he can reach, all of it hidden in high shelves or behind locks.
It left his house looking a bit bare. A little empty. Compared to before, however, it hardly looks much different.
Leona opens the door to the kid’s guest room and plops him onto the bed, looking around for any kind of trash can or bag. One never knows with sick kids.
“Unca Leona?”
“What?”
“When are Mister Ruggie and Miss Yuuka going to be here?”
Leona huffs, reaching for the blanket with a cartoon mouse on it and the kid’s bird plushie. “I’m wondering the same thing. I’ll give Ruggie an earful if he takes much longer.”
Cheka’s eyes brighten as Leona hands him the plushie. “Zazu!”
Unbelievable, Leona thinks as he watches the kid hug the plushie like it’s the best friend he’s ever had. How can something so small make anyone so happy?
He perks up as he hears the doorknob click, followed by a muffled, “Figures you wouldn’t lock the door. That’s how rich folk like you get robbed, y’know?”
“Gimme a sec,” Leona says, because kids start asking questions if they’re not given prior warning. Cheka starts to open his mouth anyway, because he’s a brat like that, but Leona ducks out of the room as fast as he can so he doesn’t hear anything.
“Took you long enough,” Leona snipes as he enters the kitchen, watching with amusement as Ruggie and Yuuka rummage through reusable grocery bags.
“Swung by the store for some ingredients,” Ruggie says, pulling out a pack of – disgusting – celery. “Figured you wouldn’t have anything proper for a kid’s diet.”
“Oi. I don’t want to hear that when you brought ingredients from some rundown grocery store.”
“Where’s the kitcat?” Yuuka asks as she lays out a plate of beef, one meant to be slow cooked.
Leona runs his fingers through his hair. “Laid him down in his room. Kid’s sleepy, so he should probably be quiet for—“
Because the universe has always hated him, the sound of padding footsteps reaches his ears just seconds before an ear-splitting, “RUGGIEEEE, HIIII!”
Cheka comes racing into the kitchen, a big smile pushing his cheeks up until he looks like a chipmunk, and he stumbles to a stop before a weary Ruggie. “You really came! And you too, pretty lady!”
“Hey there, Cheka,” Ruggie says, leaving the celery on the counter so that he can bend down and ruffle the kid’s hair. “Heard you’re not feeling great today. Shouldn’t you be napping?”
“I’m not tired. And I wanted to see you and Unca and the pretty lady!”
“If anyone should be napping, it’s me,” Leona mutters under his breath, fingers going up to press against his temples. The initial, incredibly forced burst of energy he’d managed to summon up is dissipating, pulling back as quickly as a tsunami, and his approaching exhaustion will no doubt hit just as hard as one.
He considers simply going to bed. Then he wonders why he’s even taking the time to think about it instead of just doing what he likes. Ruggie and Yuuka seem to have things handled already, so why should he waste his energy?
“Hey Leona, mind showing me where everything is?” Yuuka asks, standing by the sink. “I don’t want to waste time looking for utensils and pans while I’m cooking.”
Such a scenario would probably lead to things being burned. Ruggie’s been over enough times to know where everything is, but he’s a bit busy entertaining Cheka. Just this once, Leona will be merciful and leave him be.
“My head’s spinning, so let’s make this quick,” Leona says, stepping around the two chattering away. “I’m not usually awake at this hour.”
“Well, we simply can’t have that,” Yuuka says. “If your beauty sleep is interrupted for too long you’ll lose your good looks, and then where will we be?”
“Exactly. Glad to see you’ve learned the way of the world.”
Yuuka laughs.
It’s been a long time since Leona was awake to see the way the sunlight streams into the windows, shifting from the burnt gold of morning’s greetings to the day’s full color palette.