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Yuuji sat near the edge of the playground with his little bucket between his legs, chubby hands patting wet sand carefully into shape.
His tongue poked out in concentration while he fixed one of the tiny towers. It leaned sideways and collapsed.
“Awww…” he said sadly before starting over again. The park vibrated with the loud, joyful shouts of the other children. Yuuji looked up.
He wanted to play tag, too. He wanted to kick his black-and-white football with them. But every time he tried to approach, the boys would puff out their chests, scoffing and turning their backs. They hated how fast he could run, and how he never got tired.
Even the girls refused to talk to him. Just yesterday, a girl with pig-tails had pointed a finger at him and whined to her mother, "He looks too pretty! It’s not fair, its so weird!"
Yuuji didn't understand why being 'pretty' was a bad thing, or why it made people angry.
With a small sigh, he looked down at his dusty knees and kicked his football gently with his sneaker, playing by himself.
One by one, the families packed up. The sun began to dip, casting long, amber shadows across the playground until the park was entirely empty.
Yuuji sat back down beside his newest castle and sniffled once. His cheeks were dusty with sand.
“Oh,” he murmured suddenly. Right. His phone.
From his little backpack, he pulled out the tiny yellow flip phone his grandpa gave him. It could only call one number because he was “too little to press random buttons.”
Yuuji liked flipping it open though. Click.
Before he could press anything, a shadow fell over him. Eh? Did the sun fell? Yuuji blinked, looking up, and up, and up.
Tall. And big were the first two words that entered his mind. A very pretty man stood there. No— handsome. That was the word adults used.
He had long black hair partially tied up. But what caught Yuuji’s attention the most was the horizontal line of coarse stitches stretching right across the man's forehead.
His robes looked dark like crows at nighttime. Eyes narrowed and sharp like his grandpa.
And there were strange stitches across his forehead that looked like careful lines sewn into skin. Yuuji stared, lips parted.
The man crouched down smoothly in front of him, robes pooling into the sand. “What are you doing here all alone?” he asked gently.
His voice was calm and reallyyy nice. Yuuji observed and said. “Making castles.”
“I can see that.” The man glanced toward the empty playground. “Where are your friends?”
Yuuji looked down at his hands. “I don’t got any.” The answer came out simple.
Something flickered in the man’s eyes. “And your parents?” Yuuji’s fingers tightened around the toy shovel.
He didn't look like the scary adults Grandpa told him to avoid, to say nothing about his life. Yuuji found himself completely mesmerized.
"I have my grandpa."
The silence was uncanny, and Yuuji likes talking so he says, “Nobody plays with me much.”
“Why not?”
Yuuji puffed his cheeks slightly. “They say I’m annoying ’cause I win too much.”
The man tilted his head, “And the girls?”
Yuuji groaned, “They’re mean.”
“How so?”
“They say my face makes them mad.”
The man’s lips twitched faintly. “I see.”
Yuuji pointed at his own face seriously. “Do I got something weird on it?”
The man’s eyes drifted across the child’s features carefully, to the soft pink hair curling, long pinkish eyelashes falling over chubby cheeks, wide round brown eyes too expressive for their own good.
“No,” the man replied calmly. “Quite the opposite.” Yuuji blinked. “Oh.” He smiles, happy, a dimple appearing on his cheek.
The man reached out slowly and tapped Yuuji’s chubby cheek once with two fingers.
Yuuji giggled immediately. “You’re cold.”
“My apologies.”
“You talk funny too.” Yuuji chirped, completely captivated by the man. The tall man let out quiet laugh. “What’s your name?”
“Itadori Yuuji!” he announced proudly. “And yours?” The man watched him carefully. “Kenjaku.” Yuuji gasps in wonder, "That's such a cool name!"
"Is it? Not as cool as yours, I think."
"Hehehe."
“You play?” The tall man asks and Yuuji perked up instantly. “I’m really good.”
“Are you?”
“Mhm!” The confidence in his tiny voice was absolute.
Kenjaku picked up the ball easily with one foot, flicking it upward. It rolled along his leg, balanced briefly against his shoulder, then dropped perfectly back down without touching the ground.
Yuuji gasped so loudly birds startled from a nearby tree. “WOAH.”
“You can do this too eventually.”
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
“Nooooo way.”
Kenjaku handed him the ball. “Try.”
Yuuji tried and Immediately failed. The ball smacked into his face. He toppled backward into the sand with a squeak.
For one second kenjaku thought the child would cry. Instead—
Yuuji burst into giggles. “I got attacked!” Kenjaku covered his mouth briefly, hiding a smile.
Then he spent the next several minutes patiently teaching him little tricks. How to angle his foot. How to keep balance. How to stop kicking so hard.
Yuuji listened with complete fascination. Nobody usually taught him things this carefully.
For the next half hour, the park belonged only to them. The tall man showed Yuuji how to balance his weight to spin the ball on his fingertip, and how to trap it flawlessly with his foot.
Then they focused on building the castles.
Kenjaku used his long, pale fingers, he shaped the sand into a magnificent, multi-tiered fortress—a real Japanese castle (🏯).
As they built, the man spoke in a casual, conversational tone, weaving questions seamlessly into their play. "What do you like in school?”
Yuuji immediately answered. “PE.”
“Of course.”
“And drawing!"
“What do you draw?”
“Grandpa. But I draw mama mostly! And sometimes, I try to remember my daddy and draw him too..."
The answer was innocent. Kenjaku looks down, his chest tightened unexpectedly.
Troublesome emotions.
He looks at Yuuji, "What else do you like?”
“Hamburg steak. Oh, and I like red color! I like Dogs but cats are cute too! Soccer is really fun! Grandpa says I run fast and I do! I watch cartoons too! And dragons.”
Yuuji widens his arms, gesturing the size of those dragons and Kenjaku wonders if he would freak out if he summons Rainbow dragon.
“That's a broad range you like.”
“What’s broad?”
Kenjaku brushed stray sand from Yuuji’s hair carefully. “Many things.”
“Ohhh.”
Kenjaku smiles, his thumb gently tapping Yuuji’s soft, chubby cheek to brush away a stray grain of sand.
Like mother like son, Kenjaku thought, a cold clinical fascination flowing through his mind. Too beautiful. Her face, Jin's face lives on in you.
"I must be going now," Kenjaku said smoothly, his tone dropping into something almost nostalgic. "I wanted to see you one last time before I leave Sendai for good."
Yuuji was focused on the first sentence, Then his lower lip pushed out into a tiny pout. The words came out small. "You're leaving too? Everyone always leaves me..."
Kenjaku paused. Then, his lips stretched into a smile.
To anyone else, the smile would have looked deeply unsettling, even creepy, splitting his face in a way that didn't quite reach his cold eyes.
But as Yuuji looked at him, a wave of profound warmth washed over his chest. It felt exactly like being wrapped in a heavy blanket, comforting. He touches his chest with wonder and confusion.
“You will make friends eventually,” Kenjaku said. “You simply need to approach people first.”
Yuuji blinked up at him. “Huh?”
“Compliment them. Speak to them first. Children tend to follow those they admire.”
Yuuji’s eyes widened. “Waaah! Really?!”
“Yes.” Yuuji’s eyes sparked with sudden hope.
"You are so smart!" Yuuji burst into giggles, sand covered his knees and cheeks by how much he played around with sand.
Kenjaku pulls out a folded handkerchief before carefully wiping the dirt away before rising to his full, towering height. "Let us go, then. I shall walk you."
Yuuji scrambled to his feet, but instead of walking beside him, he ran straight forward and wrapped his short arms tightly around the man's robed leg.
He looked up with big, bright, expectant eyes with a bright smile, "Carry me! My knees are injured, they hurt real bad!"
Kenjaku lowered his gaze, his eyebrow giving a sharp twitch as he looked down at the boy's completely flawless, unblemished little knees.
He let out a soft, defeated sigh. Eyes softened against his own will.
Stooping down, he scooped the child up effortlessly, settling the boy against his broad chest before walking out of the park. Yuuji squealed.
"Are you always this friendly with complete strangers?" Kenjaku asked, his tone dry.
"No way!" Yuuji shook his head, his soft hair brushing against Kenjaku's shoulder. "Grandpa says to run away from people who feel 'bad.' But I have a great... a great i-inu-ti-"
"Intuition."
"Yeah, that! My intuition is super strong!"
"And I do not 'feel bad' to you?"
Yuuji distracted himself for a moment, watching two birds perched on the roof of a nearby house, before looking back at the stitched forehead.
"No. Mister feels just like Grandpa. Warm. Good."
A sharp, mental sneer crossed Kenjaku's thoughts. Good? Warm? Me? It was a fascinating, almost comical theory. Interesting.
Suddenly, a phantom echo reverberated through Suguru’s stolen brain.
“Kenjaku!” a vibrant, warm voice called out in his memory. He saw a flash of a blinding smile, and curved brown eyes behind a pair of round glasses, long pink hairs flowing in the air.
Naive, Kenjaku thought, suppressing the weird emotions within him. Just like his mother. Too trusting of the world.
Yuuji, completely unaware of the darkness beneath the surface, rested his small head right over Kenjaku’s heart.
He smiled brightly, his eyes filled with pure wonder as he poked the man's bicep. "Mister is sooooo strong! Like a superhero!"
"I know. And you will be as well in future."
As they walked down the quiet streets, the rhythmic, stable thumping of the heartbeat beneath the muscle began to work like a lullaby.
Yuuji’s eyelids grew heavy. Surrounded by that familiar, inexplicable warmth, he felt entirely safe.
"Mister...?" Yuuji mumbled sleepily, his voice trailing off. "I lied before. My knees don't really hurt much. I just... I just wanted to hug you."
Kenjaku’s stride faltered for a fraction of a second. A strange, heavy sensation clogged his throat, forcing him to swallow thickly before he corrected his footing and kept walking through the darkening streets.
His brows furrowed.
When they finally arrived at the front gate of the house, Kenjaku squatted down and gently set the drowsy boy on his feet.
Yuuji rubbed his eyes, sad that the walk was over. He dug deep into his pocket and pulled out a small, crinkled strawberry toffee—his emergency chocolate toffee!
He pressed it into the man's large palm. "For you, mister. For teaching me so many fun things!"
Kenjaku looked down at the cheap candy. His thumb rolled it over, fiddling with the plastic wrapper absentmindedly then he looked at Yuuji who tilted his head with a smile, "Mmh?"
Too beautiful. Dangerously so.
Then, with a sudden, firm movement, he cupped Yuuji’s chubby little face in his hand, forcing the boy to look up.
A slight frown marred his handsome features. "You should stop wandering around alone."
Yuuji's cheeks were still being squished.
"Mmph?"
"Listen to me carefully," Kenjaku said, his voice deadly serious, "Never be alone. Always ensure you are surrounded by crowds, by friends. With an ugly, miserable face like yours, a witch might mistake you for a goblin and kidnap you in the dark."
Yuuji’s jaw dropped. He whined, pouting fiercely as he tried to swat the large hand away. "You're a bad man! Everyone else calls me pretty! The girls even get mad because I'm prettier than them!"
"They are lying to comfort you because they pity you," Kenjaku replied with a straight face, a faint, cruel amusement dancing in his eyes.
Yuuji gasps, utterly upset as if it was a big shock. "They are?!"
Kenjaku let out a low, genuine chuckle. He let go of the boy's face and gave his pink-and-black hair a firm, rare affectionate pat.
He stood up, turning his back on the house, and began to walk away into the shadows of the evening.
He offered a single, careless wave of his hand over his shoulder as Yuuji called out behind him.
"Take care, mister! Bye-bye!"
Yuuji watched the tall silhouette disappear around the corner. He turned around, banging his little fists against the front door. "Grandpa! Grandpa, open up! I'm home!"
"Brat, don't shout! You are going to disturb the neighbors! I'm coming!"
He giggles and as he waited for the locks to click, a sudden, sharp realization popped into his little five-year-old brain. He looks down at the little handkerchief stuffed in his pocket.
Yuuji blinked, his head tilting to the side in total confusion.
Eh...?
He replayed their conversation in his head. He had talked about drawing, his hobbies and dragons... but he had never told the mister where he lived.
So, How did the mister know exactly which house was his?