Not gonna lie, this 100% self-indulgent. I have Danganronpa brain rot. And it screams for LeoGami (Platonic in this respect though, not romantic. Unless you squint)
I remember how my Sunday mornings used to be. I would sleep in until perhaps nine in the morning. And when I awoke, I would help myself to breakfast. Wheat toast with butter, a spinach omelet, and black coffee. I would spend perhaps a half an hour with my newspaper as I try harder to wake up a little more. Watch the news perhaps. I was a bit aged for my years, I can admit to that much. But, I wasn't about to let myself stoop down to be like those my age. I wasn't going to be an average teenager. I realized that a long time ago. I wasn't just some child. Everything had to be mature. Meticulous. Planned. Even my lazy Sunday mornings.
But, something changed when I met Kuwata. I can admit outright, he's not the type I'd usually go after. Not in a relationship, not in a friendship, not even in a simple team. He's loud. A bit brash. Sometimes even rude. I imagine he plans his baseball plays a lot more carefully than he plans his own grocery lists. He's the opposite of me in so many ways. And yet...because of him, something as simple as my Sunday mornings have changed quite drastically...
I've made an attempt to work out a routine with him. Something we both can follow. I like to think I've been reasonable. We shall wake up no earlier than 8:00. But I suppose that's too late for someone like Leon. For this morning, I am awaken at 7:25. Not by a simple nudge on the arm, or a kiss of sorts. No, that would be the 'charming' thing to do. Rather, I am awaken by a finger in my mouth, pulling at the edge of my lips like a fishhook. I struggle for only a moment, for as soon as he knows I'm awake, he releases me. When I open my eyes, I am greeted to the usual sight. Messy orange hair, big blue eyes, and a big, wide smile, obviously satisfied with his attempts to wake me. "Good mornin'!" he says. Clearly oblivious to how early in the morning it is. I want to scold him. But, I know that if I do, he will cry. Who would have guessed that the baseball star himself could be so utterly sensitive...?
"Good morning," I sigh. Giving him a quick look over, I decide to take advantage of those still-droopy eyes. "Come here. I can see you're still tired. Why don't you lie with me for at least a moment?" I offered, patting the spot next to me.
Thankfully, he is agreeable enough this time at least. Sometimes, I'm not so lucky. He nods, and crawls over, plopping down next to me and making himself comfortable. I wrap one of my arms around him and pat his back, quietly pleading that it will sooth him enough so that he will go back to sleep. He's tired, I can tell. He isn't the type to become fussy when he is tired. Unless he has gone much much too long without sleeping at all. Which has happened once or twice. But, I can tell he's still tired and needs some more rest. A papa can tell these things.
That's right. I am Leon's papa of all things...
I recall meeting him perhaps a year ago. He was, and still is, a baseball player. And a very good one at that. He passed by my manor one night after an apparent game that ran a bit too late. It was pouring that night, and he didn't have a way to get home. I don't usually take pity on people like him. It was his own fault for not thinking things through and preparing a way home before this could happen. But, as Aloysius had said, it wouldn't look good having a child such as himself freeze to death two steps away from the manor. So, I opened the gates and allowed him in.
He looked different back then when compared to now I will admit. His hair was mostly shaved. His facial hair was not there either. He looked somewhat more tidy, even if he did come off as a bit...gruff. I only intended for him to stay for a few hours. But here he is now, in my bed.
After I had let him go in the morning, I thought I would never see him again. But later that afternoon, he came back to thank me. He insisted upon thanking me. No matter how many things I rejected him. That Leon Kuwata. He can be such an imbecile... I eventually accepted his offerings, allowing him in one last time. And, through some conversation, I began to learn more about him. I will admit, he did most of the talking. But, I still learned enough. I wasn't very impressed when he told me about his passion for music. I respect that a bit less than I respect sports. It's an unreliable occupation and it will only end in heartache if he is not talented enough. Still, I suppose I could admire his dedication, despite how others wanted something different for him. Maybe he wasn't as moronic as I thought.
He continued to return after that. I suppose he saw something in me that he liked. I found it easier after awhile to allow him in rather than push him away every time. And again, the conversations were usually one sided. It was just him talking.
He began to change eventually, once he started to take control and move towards what he wanted to do. He grew his hair out, dyed it, got his piercings, and even began to grow out his facial hair. While he certainly looked less intimidating, with his appearance now matching his personality, I'll admit he looked very...immature.
And that look of immaturity only became worse in my eyes when I eventually found the little toddlers cup in his baseball bag...
Leon, as it turned out, was an age regressor.
He explained to me later that it had started as a lost bet. His team had made some sort of stupid, childish bet. And his punishment was to be their baby for the week. They babied him and humiliated him for the week. Bottles, diapers, pacifiers, you name it, they did it. But the most ironic part, was that he eventually seemed to get used to it. So by the time the punishment was over, he wasn't quite done with it yet. And he carried it out on his own...
It still escapes me as to why he enjoyed it so much. But whatever the case, he continued. Aging up from the baby they made him into, to a toddler. He liked typical boy things I suppose. Race-cars and blocks and finger-paints. He used toddler cups with spouts, footed pajamas, and even childish cutlery. He enjoyed all of. And I suppose there was a part of me that enjoyed the idea as well. Somewhat.
I didn't want to see him accidentally kill himself through his own childish and unsupervised actions. Apparently, he had already burnt himself twice and toppled down half a flight of stairs as well in this regressed headspace. So, I took him in. He wasn't about to get himself killed on my watch.
I suppose I had grown to care for him somewhat.
Which brought us back to now...
As embarrassing as it is, I can say with certainty that if I wasn't fond of him before, I certainly am now. He is a handful. And a big one at that. He tantrums sometimes. He looses things rather easily. He makes messes. He's always trying to drag me outside. He has accidents. And goodness is he needy at times. I can admit, some days would be much easier if he wasn't around. But, just because they would be easier, doesn't mean they would be more enjoyable by any means. I suppose Leon has brought something rather special into my life. I can't say what that something is exactly. But it is special all the same to me. Perhaps I truly don't want to be without him. More so then I am ready to admit.
Running my hand up and down his back, I can feel the the muscly shoulder-blades underneath his pajama top. He was still a full grown adult, despite the childish mindset and heart underneath all that muscle. I suppose that might bother a lot of people. But for some reason, it just didn't bother me. Not as much as it used to anyway. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy our time together...
I was broken out of my thoughts when I felt Leon wiggle under my hold. Perhaps he wasn't ready to go back to sleep hm? I gave him a few more back rubs, running my hand up and down his back in the hopes that he would settle. But when he continued to wiggle, I knew that wasn't going to happen. He was awake and raring to go. So, I gave in, planting a kiss on his forehead. "You're not tired anymore huh?" I asked.
"Nu-uh," he responded, shaking his head. "Breakfast," he requested. I nodded, slowly pushing myself up so I was sitting.
"Alright alright, just be patient," I yawned. "Let's have you sit on the potty for a little bit," I said. "Unless you've already wet yourself?" T
his boy was already 17 years old, and yet he continued to have accidents. He tried to deny it. But there wasn't any way to deny how many puddles that have needed cleaning and pull ups that needed changing. There wasn't anything medically wrong with the boy that caused these accidents. He was simply...careless. He was very very careless when he was regressed. Which caused several accidents. (And of course, who else was expected to clean them up other than myself?) It had taken a little convincing, but I had managed to get him into training pants whenever he regressed. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he refused to go as far as diapers. But, I'll take what I can get.
As expected though, he's as stubborn as always. He shakes his head at me. He doesn't want to. Why am I not surprised? "Breakfast," he repeat to me.
"We will go to breakfast after you go," I reasoned with him.
"No, first!" Leon argued.
"Leon Kuwata, I hope you aren't trying to argue with me," I warn, narrowing my eyes. He knows the 'no-nonsense' look very well. And I instantly know I have managed to have him see reason when he pouts, but stops fussing at me. "That's better," I say, nodding my head. I pushed back my blankets and swung my legs over the side of the bed, getting to my feet. Then, I take his hand and guide him off the bed so he is standing next to me, a big pout on his face. "Now now fussy. It's not the end of the world," I remind him, leading him to the conjoined bathroom. "You'll have your breakfast in a moment."
"I wanna eat bacon," he requested.
"Don't you always?" I asked. "And what else? You can't just have bacon you know."
Leon took a moment to think it over. But he answered with, "Donuts."
"You will have eggs," I tell him plainly. I draw the line at bacon AND donuts...
"Awww..." he pout, entering the bathroom with me.
"I know, I know," I say easily, helping to remove his pajama pants. Then, I pull down the dry training pants, before sitting him down on the toilet. Once he was settled, I sat on the ledge of the bathtub, and leant against the wall, giving him time to do his business. Caring for a toddler is exhausting... He needs something different every hour. Something to eat, something to do, something needed to be cleaned, or he's otherwise done something that he knows he isn't supposed to do, and needs to be scolded. Sometimes, raising a toddler feels like the most difficult thing I've been asked to do, even more so then anything my father has asked of me to do. And yet, despite all of that...
I didn't realize I had drifted off, until I feel a hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. When I open my eyes, I'm met with his baby blue ones, just like I had seen earlier this morning. He was kneeling in front of me now, pants back up over his behind. His brows, the same color as his hair, were narrowed as he stared unsurely up at me. "Asleep?" he asked me.
"...No dear, I'm not asleep," I said, placing my hand on top of his head. "I was only closing my eyes. Are you finished?"
"Mm-hm, and I washed my hands too!" he says, showing me his undried hands. Only now do I realize how damp the shoulder he touched is... Ugh. I want to make him dry up, but I know for a fact that it'll end up being a battle. One that I'm not fully prepared for this morning. It's funny. There's nothing more that I hate the loosing. Especially to someone who is under my status. But with Leon I've come to learn to pick my battles.
So, instead of fighting him, I brush off my shoulder and stand. "Come on. Let's go have breakfast then," I tell him.
He stands up as well and takes my hand, making me cringe at it's dampness. But, I manage to keep it together long enough to take him downstairs. He starts singing under his breath about eggs and bacon, a little tune he made up himself. I'm grateful that even HE is feeling too tired to be noisy about it.
As always, waiting in the kitchen is Aloysius, ready to take our breakfast orders. "Good morning sirs," he says calmly.
"Good morning!" Leon greets. I'm not exactly close with Aloysius, I never have been. But, Leon easily attached himself to him. He's the friendly sort I supposed, easily getting close to others. I'm not sure if I'd call him TOO trusting or not. But, I suppose it's that trusting personality that helped him get close to me of all people. So, perhaps I should not complain.
"I want bacon and eggs!" the toddler requests. "Scrambled eggs p'ease!"
"Right away sir," Aloysius says simply, going to gather what he needs.
And of course, as it's Sunday morning, he requests exactly what I thought he would. "I wanna watch cartoons!" he tells me.
His taste in television programs is...questionable. I'd rather keep up with current events first thing in the morning. While he would rather rot his brain with Spongebob... This is another one of those things that I don't fight however. Hygiene, health, responsibilities, and behavior, those are things I won't budge on, and am willing to continue the fight on. However, little things such as luxuries, entertainment, and these little everyday things are not something I'm willing to fight about most of the time. I found rather quickly that if I relinquish at least a little control, which is difficult in and of itself, that it makes both of our days run a lot easier.
"Fine," I yawn, letting him lead me to the sitting room. I don't much enjoy being pulled. But I'm too tired to protest. Goodness, why am I so tired anyhow? Did we go to bed late last night? Or, perhaps the work week was catching up to me?
I sit on the sofa as he sits at his usual place at my feet. I hand him the remote, letting him turn on the television and find his show on his own. As he does that, I let my head fall back. I don't mean to, but at some point, I close my eyes. And when I do, I start to recall exactly what it was that had me so tired.
Leon and I didn't end the day so well yesterday. We had a fight over dinner the other night. He didn't want to eat the vegetables that had been prepared for him. Nor did he take it well when I told him he wasn't having anymore juice, other then the cup I gave him. He tantrumed, I yelled at him, we went to bed angry. And that doesn't lead to a very restful sleep..
I hear him turn on the television and find his show. Good, that will keep him occupied. I sigh, just thankful that he didn't have it as loud as he usually did. I'm trying not to fall asleep on him, but...
I couldn't have been asleep for more than a minute. But, I'm roused when I feel weight against my knees. It took me a moment to open my eyes. His head is rested against my knees as he sits on the ground. His eyes are closed. And he's drifting back to sleep as well. I suppose even he doesn't fair well after going to bed angry. I run my fingers through his hair, feeling him relax even more. I suppose I can let him sleep. Why not?
I was right in thinking he was still tired this morning. I don't anticipate he'll be ready for breakfast once it's ready. But, he won't die from cold eggs and bacon. So, I let it be. Running my fingers through his hair, I sigh. I suppose we can sleep in a bit longer. I'm sure he'd appreciate that just as much as I.
I close my eyes once more, and lie it back against the couch.
As much as I may complain about this toddler, and the grief that comes from caring for his needs...I don't think I'd have it any other way. I'd put up with dozens of tantrums, change never ending wet bedsheets, and clean all of these messes...
If it meant more quiet, Sunday mornings like this one...
I might do a second chapter if I feel like it, it depends on how well this one was received.
