Inspired by conversations between myself and bus 33 Thank you so much

Christopher Arklight considers himself a good person; after all, he always pays his bills on time and occasionally donates his old clothes to those less fortunate. Sure, he might not be a saint, and he's asked his friends for the answers to homework instead of doing it himself more than once before, but everyone has character flaws, right?

Regardless of the slight blemishes on his records, Chris Arklight does not deserve this.

He scrunches up his face at the piece of perfect white printer paper, at the perfect crease in the center, at the perfectly unsmudged letters spelling out his doom. Chris considers for a long moment to return the letter to its envelope and simply pretend he never saw it, but no, that would mean running away, and running away won't solve his problems.

He's being cut off. Or, more accurately, his parents have decided they no longer want to help pay for his tuition and cost of living. Now, perhaps if his parents were like normal average income parents, this wouldn't be too bad, after all, he's pretty smart and knows how to use the internet to Google ways to live on a budget. Only, Chris' family is loaded and he can clearly see the return address on the envelope says Hawaii of all places, so he's more than a bit suspicious when the letter claims they've hit a rough patch.

Reading over the letter again, he thinks over ways of convincing his parents that this is a very bad idea, maybe he can cut down on spending to compromise, but there's no way he'll be able to survive the next four years of higher education without any form of income, not without taking a loan.

Chris drops the letter to the table and stands to shuffle over to the cabinet across the room. He opens it and pulls out his green folder, the one he keeps all the past bills in, then returns to his seat. He flips through the contents, mentally counting up his monthly expenses, and finds it's not unreasonably high. Sure, maybe he doesn't need to go out to restaurants most nights, but not eating isn't an option.

The little notebook at his elbow, previously used to jot down questions to ask his professors, becomes an impromptu to-do list of changes he could make in his daily life to lower expenses. After an hour of scowling and scribbling, his phone beeps, and it's time to rush to class.

A week passes with no word from his parents, no "LOL early April fools," and Chris can only assume that they were being dead serious about this. As much as it irks him, it appears that he's on his own now, and from the looks of his bank account, he only has so much time to ponder over options before he needs to get a job. Luckily, this semester's worth of tuition has already been covered, so he only has to worry about monthly living expenses for now.

He's down to 'get a part time job at a fast food restaurant' or 'sell my left kidney' when he suddenly has an epiphany. Babysitting. He could babysit some brats for a couple hours a day during the semester. Since he only has morning lectures, he could pick the kids up from school when it lets out and watch them until their parents finish work. This way, he could earn money without even having to leave his apartment, and if he took on a bunch of children, he won't have to worry about his bank account for a while longer.

The plan is foolproof. Chris starts by making an advertisement in a popular day care forum. After wasting over two hours creating a page for his services and printing out a thick stack of papers to hang around campus and the city tomorrow, he calls it quits.

Christopher Arklight's Day Care Services

Open Weekdays after 12:30 and Weekends All Day

Home Address: XXXXXXXXXXXX

Phone Number: XXX-XXX-XXXX

Cost: 1,200¥ Per Hour

Notes:

- I know CPR

- Will feed dinner at 4 pm, costs extra. Otherwise, please send them with food, donate food, or pick them up before then

- Dinner changes daily, but I will be providing them with foods of different cultures other than Japan

- I am currently majoring in astrophysics and can help with all types of homework

- I have years of experience babysitting younger relatives

- Can entertain children with educational videos, books, toys, and coloring

Christopher Arklight's Day Care Services

No Questions Asked

The real challenge begins on a dreary Thursday. While he's at a lecture learning about the history of Japan, a class he's required to take, thick, heavy clouds roll in and begin spilling their contents. As the heavens pour down rain, Chris steels himself and jumps into the fray, determined to hang up his flyers in a timely manner. Luckily, he thought ahead and spent a few yen to laminate a good portion of his advertisements so they won't be damaged by the elements.

He starts first around campus, headed towards the areas designated for students to post information about clubs and other activities. Well, this is technically neither, but it won't hurt to staple his flyers to the boards and hope someone sees it before it gets taken down. Chris finds three of the areas, the fourth eluding him, and pins his flyers to the top, not caring that his papers cover up a few others.

Next, Chris goes out to the rest of the city, stapling his notices against pristine wooden telephone posts. He spends over an hour tacking them around where he predicts needy parents will see, and is just about to call it quits when someone taps on his shoulder.

He turns to see a woman with long blonde hair holding a black umbrella, standing close enough to Chris that they're both relieved from the rain.

"Excuse me," she says with a smile, "Are you Christopher Arklight?" When he nods blankly she continues. "Hello, I'm Mirai Tsukumo, I was wondering about your daycare."

"Oh, yeah." That. Chris honestly hadn't expected someone to approach him so soon. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"Yes, if you don't mind. My child is in early elementary and is let out after lunch. Will you be able to pick him up then, or will he have to walk?" She begins.

Chris wonders how many questions Ms. Tsukumo have to ask before answering, "He goes to Heartland Elementary? Yes, I can pick him up, I live only a few blocks away."

"Do you have any references that I can call to see that you're a trustworthy person?"

Shit, he hadn't prepared any in advance, he was going to have to think fast. "Y-yes, would one of my professors work? I've known her for three years." She was the one who had convinced Chris to enroll into Heartland University instead of another school. He recites her email address and Ms. Tsukumo types it into her phone.

"When is the earliest you can start?"

"Tomorrow, or today, if you'd like, though it's a bit late."

Ms. Tsukumo nods slowly, then reaches into her pocket and hands over what looks to be a business card. It has her full name, phone number, and email written in shiny blue letters. "You're hired," she states, which is a shock considering she asked for a reference and Chris is certain she hasn't had time to check up on that yet. "I need you to watch my son tomorrow. His name is Yuma, he's this high," she holds up her hand a bit over waist height. She goes on to describe his eye and hair color, red and pink and black apparently, and that he'll wait by the entrance of the school for Chris to get him.

"Tomorrow," Chris repeats.

"Yes, tomorrow. I, er, didn't know I needed him watched until a few hours ago." She looks away at this as if ashamed before brightening up again. "Also, he's going to ask you a secret question before he'll leave with you," Ms. Tsukumo says with a wink. "'When will per capita GDP in China exceed the per capita GDP in the US?' And then you answer with, '2073.' It's simple, just remember the number '2073' and tell it to him tomorrow. Oh, is it alright if I pay you when I come to pick him up?"

Chris nods, searing the year into his memory. "Yes, that works. I'll be by the school gates on time. Is there anything else?"

Ms. Tsukumo shakes her head and they part ways, Chris ecstatic to having been hired so soon.

At exactly one, Chris reaches the school gates of Heartland Elementary School. An ocean of short brats stand waiting for their parents to pick them up, or trickle away to walk home by themselves. It doesn't take long for him to locate Yuma, his hair sticks out like a raft in a sea of children.

Chris walks through the kids, coming to a stop when he reaches Yuma. "Are you Yuma Tsukumo?" He asks, attempting to soften his face so he isn't completely frowning.

The brat, Yuma, looks up from the card game he's playing with one of his little friends. His eyes widen at the sight of Chris, and one of his friends, a girl with a ribbon in her hair jumps to her feet. "Who are you," she asks.

"Christopher Arklight, I'm Yuma's daycare watcher. Yuma, do you remember the question your mom told you to ask me?" The kid shakes his head, and Chris sighs. Of course not. "Well, the answer is '2-0-7-3.'"

Yuma's eyes light up in recognition. "Oh! Mom told me about you." He begins collecting his cards, shoves them into his pocket, and stands. "Okay, we can go now. Bye." Yuma waves to his friends, who recite their goodbyes, all eyes trained on Chris as if he's a caged animal at a zoo.

Chris quickly drags his charge off of the school grounds and to his apartment, both silent. When he unlocks his door and ushers Yuma inside, he finally speaks. "Make yourself at home, Yuma. Do you have any homework to do?" Hopefully so, he isn't sure how else he could go about entertaining the kid for a questionable amount of time. There is always television, he owns a few child-friendly movies they could watch, and a few books Yuma might be able to read.

Yuma nods, kicking off his shoes by the door and shrugging off his backpack. "Yeah. I usually wait until Sunday to do it, but I could do it now." He wanders over to the small table in the living room and pulls a few papers and a pencil out of his backpack. Once Chris has determined that the kid is occupied, he sits on the couch and begins on his own homework, reading a few chapters out of his textbooks.

They continue in this fashion for nearly an hour, the only sound coming from Yuma's pencil or Chris flipping a page, until Yuma turns to him. "Mr. Arklight?"

"Just Chris is fine," Chris says, furrowing his eyebrows at the printed text in front of him. The book is claiming that a dead bird in a story symbolizes lost freedom and foreshadows the ending, but he certainly hadn't picked that up the first time he read it. A dead bird is a dead bird; if the author had wanted to convey that message, they should have just stated it.

"Okay. Chris, can you help me with this problem? Number thirteen." Yuma hands over the worksheet. It's math, Chris deduces, simple multiplication to be exact. The question Yuma pointed out is 7 x 8, nothing too difficult; Chris comes up with the answer in less than a second, having spent so many years dealing with this kind of math.

Knowing that just giving Yuma the answer wouldn't help him learn, and since Chris is supposed to at least try to be responsible now, he attempts something different. "Have you tried adding the number seven eight times? Do you want some scrap paper so you can write it out?"

Yuma shakes his head for the first question, then nods at the second. Chris gets up to search his bedroom for some lined paper he isn't currently using, and brings back two sheets for Yuma to write on. Yuma takes them and starts again on the problem. Chris watches, and when Yuma seems to get the correct answer, he returns to reading about literature.

Another half an hour later, Yuma shuffles his papers into his backpack.

"You're finished?" Chris asks, "Have anything specific you want to do now?"

Yuma looks around the room, eyes unfocused for a second, before turning to Chris. "Can I watch TV? Dad lets me watch cartoons after I do my homework."

Chris has to fish for the remote between the couch cushions, and then hands it over to the kid. "Just keep the volume down." Having experience in ignoring loud and irritating noises at the local library, Chris doubts that whatever Yuma puts on will impede his concentration, so he doesn't suggest a more quiet activity.

The time before Ms. Tsukumo arrives passes quickly, and soon Chris hears a knock on the door and gets up to answer it. Behind him, Yuma jumps to his feet and races to his mother, hugging her.

Ms. Tsukumo smiles down at her child. "What's this for, you saw me only a couple of hours ago." She looks up. "Was Yuma good for you?"

Chris nods and steps back to give them space. "Yes, he was pretty quiet. He hasn't eaten yet, but he got all of his homework down."

"My Yuma? Quiet?" She laughs. "Well, I suppose he'll warm up to you at some point, don't worry." That sounds more than a bit ominous. "Here," she hands over a wad of cash. "Are you alright with watching him again all next week?"

"Yes, that's fine." Chris exchanges his goodbyes with the Tsukumo's and they leave.

The weekend passes quickly, Chris spending the great majority of the time finishing up his homework and shopping around for toys for children. He buys a giant box of Legos and a dozen miniature dinosaur figurines and decides that's enough to entertain Yuma for a couple of days. If Yuma really gets bored, Chris could break out his gaming systems and let the kid play an age appropriate game.

On Monday, he attends classes as usual, then picks up Yuma when he gets off. Yuma is thrilled to see the new toys, rushing through his homework so he can begin playing with them as soon as possible, building forts and towers and having the little dinosaurs live in them. He even names one of them "Astral" and talks to it often, though Chris can't remember which figurine that is.

The next two days follow in a similar fashion, with Yuma slowly getting more comfortable around Chris and occasionally conversing with him or asking him questions. As this progresses, Chris begins noticing some… interesting things about Yuma. Sometimes he carries on half a conversation as if there is another person in the room, for instance, or suddenly answers a question that wasn't asked. If Chris reacts to Yuma's voice, the kid freezes as if he's been caught doing something wrong, then goes back to playing with his toys.

It's probably just an imaginary friend, Chris thinks, and he doesn't ask Yuma or Ms. Tsukumo about it.

On Wednesday, when Yuma's father comes to pick up his son, Chris meets the Mizuki's, two middle aged parents who are friends with the Tsukumo's and heard about Chris' services through them. The whole introduction lasts only a few minutes, they just want to ask him a few questions and exchange contact information, and by the end of it, Chris has convinced another family to let him watch their child.

The next day, Chris picks up Yuma and Kotori, who turns out to be one of Yuma's friends. Since they already know each other, this makes things a lot easier. Chris doesn't know what he would have done if the two didn't get along. His apartment isn't that large, it's not like he could keep them separated that easily.

Yuma and Kotori finish their homework quickly and have Chris check it for them, then go play with the Legos. Chris leaves them to it, preferring to skim a book on the basics of astrophysics he picked up from the library earlier that day instead of listening to them. Normally he would have just bought it, but due to budget cuts, he couldn't exactly afford to buy every book that catches his interests anymore. It's irritating to have to take notes on a piece of paper instead of the book itself, but he snaps pictures of anything he comes across that might be useful.

"Hey Chris, can we have a snack?" A voice pipes up beside him. Chris turns to see Kotori and Yuma standing beside the couch, a hopeful look on their faces. Chris checks the time – 3 O'clock – and nods. He gets up and they follow him to the small kitchen connected to the living room.

"I have saltines and goldfish," Chris says, searching through his mostly empty cabinet. Man, he really needs to go out and buy some food; these snacks aren't going to last them very long. And, maybe some variety as well, especially if he intends on giving them these kinds of snacks every day. He turns to see their confused expressions. "They're… foreign. Uh, salty cracker squares or cheesy cracker fish." He isn't very surprised the two aren't familiar with them, western comfort food is a pain to find in Japan, and he had to take a train out of town just to find a shop that sold these. He only considers it worth it since they remind him of home.

The children exchange glances. "The fish ones?" Kotori guesses. Chris nods and pours some into a plastic bowl.

"Here, you two can share. If your parents aren't back by four, I'll make dinner, okay?" Dinner being boxed macaroni and cheese that can be cooked up in less than fifteen minutes. Simple and quick, and it's something the kids will eat.

Kotori inspects one of the fish-shaped crackers, frowning, while Yuma bites off the head of another. "Thanks Chris," they say before heading back into the living room. Chris follows them and returns to the couch, keeping an ear out for them as they chatter about their snack.

"These taste funny," Kotori whispers.

"Maybe foreign snacks aren't meant to be yummy? And I don't think these are made out of real fish…" Says Yuma.

"Chris said they're crackers, but they taste like cheese. You could probably play with them if you wanted to because of their shape." Kotori tries to make fish noises but fails. Yuma laughs, then grows silent for a moment.

"Astral says these don't have any nutritional value to them. What's that mean?"

Chris perks up at the name Astral; he's heard Yuma say it before but hasn't thought much of it in the past.

"Nutritional value? Doesn't that mean they aren't healthy?"

How do children even know of that phrase? Chris turns to look at the kids. They've sectioned off the goldfish into three piles on a piece of paper, and the two eat from their own pile. The last goes untouched.

"Who's Astral," Chris asks, because it was one thing when only Yuma knew about it, but now two of his kids knew and he doesn't.

Yuma and Kotori freeze, looking at each other in horror. They both lean forward to whisper something, hiding their mouths with their hands so Chris can't read their lips. Not that he knows how to do that. The kids being overly cautious makes him suspicious; he hadn't thought his question was worth so much discussion over.

Yuma and Kotori reach a decision after a minute and pull away. "Astral's my imaginary friend. They're sitting right here." Yuma points at a spot between him and Kotori.

"They're my friend too," Kotori says.

"'They?' How many are there?" Chris asks, not quite understanding.

"Just one," Yuma replies, then looks to the spot Astral is at. "Astral says we're using the singular they, not the plural version, but I don't know what that means."

"Okay," Chris says slowly. He had guessed right earlier, it was just an imaginary friend, something not worth worrying about. Only, Chris can't help but feel as if this is more than something that simple. He keeps his mouth shut, and after a few minutes, the kids finish their snack, Yuma eating Astral's portion of goldfish since "they didn't like the taste," and go back to playing.

Not knowing what else to do, Chris returns to his book. This whole Astral thing is just a small bump, he thinks, not that big of a deal. Babysitting is easy after all.

Thanks for reading! Please remember to leave a comment.