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Dateko Daycare was the brainchild of Moniwa Kaname, a 23 year old who had recently lost his retail job due to the recession, and decided to take a step in a completely different direction. He had a good grade on a Child Development course he had taken for extra credit, and shrugged as he looked at all his options.
Why not? After all, he was looking for a fresh start.
That had been two years ago. Now, at 25, his small business was flourishing, a business that took in up to 9 children, between the ages of 2 and 10. It hadn’t been the original intention, but things happened, and he’d sort of become the emergency drop-off parents chose when nurseries were closed, or they’d been called in for work suddenly.
Today was a slow day. Only three of the children were there. Kamasaki, the oldest of all the Dateko children at 10 and a half - very important, he insisted - who was quite happy to read in the corner, munching on the seaweed snacks Moniwa always prepared.
Aone, at 7, creating something out of building blocks in the centre of the room, very proud of his work as he expanded and built upon his empire. It looked like he was just basing it on the historic palace not too far from Dateko Daycare.
The last of today’s children was Koganegawa, a 2 year old with eyes bigger than his stomach, who was currently in the phase of “If it fits in my mouth, I can eat it.” It was incredibly troubling, but Kawanishi was keeping him entertained by offering seaweed snacks and showing him how to eat it without too much mess.
He loved copying the others, always enthusiastic and full of cheer. Unfortunately, he had a penchant for climbing everywhere on everything. Moniwa had had to save him from the frame for bigger children countless times.
“Aone, did you want some help?” The daycare teacher crouches down next to him, careful not to disturb any blocks, and Aone stares at him quietly for a minute. It would be unsettling, if Moniwa hadn’t quickly learned how to read his facial expressions. Aone was thinking, deeply.
He shakes his head no, and Moniwa feels his heart break a little. He loves helping the children, playing with them and getting involved in their games and creations.
“Okay, well… Let me know if you need anything~.” Aone nods again, and Moniwa heads over to the beanbag area, tidying it up before plonking himself down in the green one. It’s… Way too quiet for a daycare, he thinks.
“Monny! Monny!” He’s torn out of his lament by Koganegawa, calling out the nickname only the two year old uses, and pushing himself to his feet. Kamasaki takes his eyes off his book for moment, giving the toddler a little help via a firm hand on the back.
“What is it, Koganegawa?” On unsteady feet, powered by confidence, Koganegawa potters over to Moniwa, who opens his arms for the two year old to fall into.
“Play game!”
“A game? What should we play?”
“Pretend!” He steps back from Moniwa, posing as if he’s swishing a sword around, and the teacher smiles at his dorky adorableness.
“You want to play pretend samurai?”
“Yes!” With a laugh, Moniwa scoops the two year old up into his arm, resting on his hip, and carries him over to the large wardrobe, sliding back the door to unveil boxes and toys galore.
“What do you think a samurai needs, hmm?” Koganegawa pauses, tapping his finger over his lips like his mother does when she thinks, copying the behaviour and taking it on as his own.
“A sword… An’ helmet! A horsey!” Rummaging around, Moniwa manages to find the riding horses, just a plain stick with a pony head and reins. He puts them to the side, then grabs the basket from the top shelf with all the costume and dress-up stuff in.
Turning around to put Koganegawa and the basket down, he’s surprised to see both Kamasaki and Aone standing there. Aone even has one of the riding horse toys in his hands, the one with brown fur and a white muzzle. Kamasaki smirks cockily.
“Well you can’t mention Samurai and not want us to play.”
“Play, play~!” Waving his arms around, the toddler almost wriggles out of Moniwa’s grip before Aone puts the riding horse back down momentarily to kindly lift him out of Moniwa’s arms and put him on the floor.
“Thank you, Aone.” He nods, picking up his riding horse again. Feet firmly on the ground, Koganegawa dashes over to grab the other one - a white horse with black spots all over. On the other end of things, Kamasaki rummages through the costume box, pulling out anything that might be useful.
He ends up mostly dressing Aone up, passing over ‘samurai-like’ stuff for him to wear. Not that Aone minds. He’s very placid for a 7 year old. Glancing in the mirror at the cardboard samurai helmet on his head, poncho with samurai armour design, and inflatable katana, he sparkles with pride, puffing out his chest.
“Sorry, Kamasaki, there’s only two samurai outfits…” The ten year old pouts as Aone poses in front of the mirror with his toy horse, and Koganegawa gleefully totters about, tripping over the too-long costume poncho and pushing himself back up with a giggle only to do the same again.
“S’okay, I guess… I can just watch…” Suddenly, he spots something and his eyes light up as he throws himself into the box. He pulls out a fully black jumpsuit and ninja mask.
“Or I can be awesome! Every samurai needs a ninja!” Laughing nervously, Moniwa chooses not to refute him as Kamasaki pulls it on over his clothes, tugging the mask over to cover everything but his eyes and nose.
Well… And the tuft of blond hair that sticks through a hole at the very top. Again, Moniwa doesn’t mention it, not wanting to rain on his tiny, happy parade. Whilst he searches for something he can use as shuriken, there’s a knock on the front door. Moniwa’s brow furrows.
“Who could that be…?” He makes his way to the door, pushing it open only to see a very panicked Futakuchi-san, a reporter for the local news, and her son, Kenji.
“Moniwa-san! I am so, so sorry, but I just got called into work on an emergency and I have no-one else to babysit. Could I possibly…?” She gestures between her pouting 6 year old and the inside of the daycare with a pleading, embarrassed grin. She seems 2 seconds away from getting on her knees and begging.
“Of course! That’s what Dateko daycare is here for~.” She sighs with relief, rummaging in her bag desperately for her purse to pay the fee - since emergency drop offs cost a little extra than a normal, booked in advance stay.
“Oh thank goodness! Again, I’m sorry, but I can’t let this lead get away, this could be my break-” Moniwa covers her hand with one of his own to stop her rambling, smiling kindly.
“You can pay when you pick him up. Go get your lead~.” The poor, flustered woman looks like she could burst into tears as she thanks him, hurrying back to her car.
“Drive safe!” Moniwa waves her off, as he does with all parents, and looks down to see Futakuchi just watching his mother’s car drive off with the same disappointed pout, his hands behind his head. Catching Moniwa’s eye, he huffs.
“She’s so weird.”
“Now, now, that’s not very nice to say about your mother.”
“But she is.” There’s no convincing the stubborn, independent 6 year old, who strides into the daycare with confident steps. Moniwa sighs and follows after him. If he had to pick a problem child, it would be Futakuchi.
“Who else is here?”
“Koganegawa, Aone, and Kamasaki.”
“Urgh, not him.” He can only be talking in disdain about Kamasaki, since Aone is his best friend and he has a secret soft spot for the youngest of Dateko Daycare.
“Play nice.”
“I will. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Moniwa sighs. He loves all his charges, he really does, as if they were his own children, but he really wishes they’d get along better.
“Aone!” At the sound of his best friend's voice, Aone looks up where he’s trying to braid the brown mane of his riding horse toy, eyes twinkling as he holds a hand up to greet him. Futakuchi pauses, staring at him wide-eyed. Then, he bursts into laughter, clutching at his stomach in hysterics.
“You- You look ridiculous! What are you doing?!” From atop the tower of climbing blocks, the plastic ones in primary colours, Kamasaki squawks in irritation.
“You can’t say that about Samurai! They were the coolest and strongest! They had honour and bushido!”
“Oh yeah? I bet I’m stronger than any samurai ever was.” Kamasaki scoffs, leaping off the blocks from the very top, giving Moniwa a mini-heart attack and making Koganegawa clap his hands as he laughed gleefully. Moniwa scoops him up before he can clamber on the first block, intent on doing the same.
“You’re no Samurai, Futakuchi! You’re weak, and dishonourable. You know nothing about how cool Samurai were. You’re lame.”
“Boys.” They look at Moniwa as he uses his stern voice, frustratedly turning away from each other. Kamasaki’s hands are curled into fists, and Futakuchi’s eyes build with water, threatening to spill over.
“O-Oh yeah?! Well here’s what I think of your stupid Samurai!” He storms over to Aone’s careful construction, pushing over the highest point, and kicking down the part based on the palace up the road, until Moniwa puts Koganegawa on the ground and swiftly intervenes, lifting him up under the arms and carrying him over to the naughty chair.
“6 minutes! Sit here, silently, and then you can apologise to Aone afterwards.” As he dries the six year old’s tears with a tissue, Futakuchi looks up at him in surprise.
“A-Aone?”
“Mhm. You knocked down all his hard work.”
“I didn’t know it was his… I thought-...” They watch as Aone picks up some of the scattered bricks, broken-hearted frown on his face, and he drops it hopelessly into the rest of the pile. He wipes his eyes on his sleeve and jogs off to another room of the daycare, where the children are usually only allowed if Moniwa’s assistant is here to help.
“It doesn’t matter who built it. Knocking it over was wrong.”
“M’sorry…”
“Sit here and think about it, okay?” Standing up, Moniwa leaves him to bring his knees up on the chair, hugging them close and burying his face in them, regretting his destructive decision.
“Kamasaki, can you watch Koganegawa for me, please?”
“Sure. We’ll tidy up the bricks.” He makes his point by scooping up an armful of bricks and dropping then into the bucket, Koganegawa copying, which makes Moniwa smile. Then, the teacher walks into the side room, where all the equipment like easy-bake ovens and play retail counters are.
“Aone?” A sniffle from the plastic florist house. Sighing in relief that Aone hasn’t gone too far, Moniwa makes his way over and sits behind him. He rests a gentle hand on Aone’s back. The cardboard samurai helmet is pulled down over his face, but Moniwa knows he’s deeply upset.
“I’m sorry your beautiful palace was destroyed… Do you want to make another one?” Aone shakes his head, and chokes out a sob. He’s only seven, and he put so much hard work and concentration into building it. But the part that stings most is the betrayal.
“S’my best friend…”
“I know, I know… It was very wrong of him to do that. I’m not expecting you to forgive him, but do you think you can come back in the room once you’ve calmed down? I need to be able to see all of you…”
“Okay.” Moniwa opens his arms in offering, and Aone steals a quick hug of comfort before leaning back against the fake florist stand. Trusting him to be okay, Moniwa returns to the main room, watching as Kamasaki pretends to be injured by Koganegawa’s inflatable katana.
The two year old shrieks with glee and continues hitting him, though he’s not very strong. Kamasaki rolls over, grabbing at his stomach as if he’s been stabbed. Moniwa notices he’s swapped the ninja mask for the samurai helmet that Koganegawa no longer wears.
“Noooo! My honour! My dignity!” Then, with all the grace of a ten year old who’s only ever seen cartoon deaths, he flops out like a star, scrunches his eyes closed, and sticks his tongue out to the side. Koganegawa’s giggles trail off when Kamasaki stops responding.
“Kamama?” He crawls closer, poking Kamasaki’s cheek and not catching the twitch of his eyes, trying not to laugh.
“Y’okay? Kamama?” Kamasaki waits until Koganegawa is on his chest, poking both cheeks, before he sits up abruptly, catching the toddler in his arms.
“Aha! You thought you had defeated me, but I am much too strong!” Squealing, Koganegawa wriggles himself back the right way up, hugging onto the boy he sees as a big brother. He wouldn’t know any different, with the amount of time they spend together each week. Something catches his attention behind Moniwa.
“Awone!” Moniwa turns around as Aone walks back into the room, having stopped crying. His gaze lingers on the empty spot where the fallen bricks used to be, but then, he jogs over to join the others in play.
Supervising them isn’t hard, since the two older boys know to be gentler with Koganegawa than each other, and they’re pretty gentle anyways. Well… He can say that unless it’s Kamasaki and Futakuchi in a room together, when one of them isn’t in time-out.
Speaking of… Moniwa checks his watch. It’s a minute early, but the children don’t have the greatest concept of time. One minute won’t hurt, as long as Futakuchi has learned his lesson. He walks over slowly, making his footsteps heavy enough that the child hears him coming.
“Futakuchi~.” The six year old lifts his head from his knees, apparently stubborn and upset enough to have stayed in the same position. It’s rare for him not to be constantly fidgeting or moving a mile a minute.
“Well done for staying on the chair. Do you know why I put you there?” Futakuchi nods.
“‘Cus I was naughty.” Moniwa waits for him to elaborate, the children of the daycare well-knowing that he likes a proper explanation.
“I knocked down Aone’s building blocks… An’ I shouldn’t have, ‘cus the rule is ‘words, not fists’. I got angry and didn’t ask for cool-down time.”
“That’s right~. And what do you need to do?” Futakuchi takes a deep breath, putting his knees down and resting his hands on them.
“I need to say sorry to Aone for knocking it down, and sorry to Kamasaki for making fun of Samurai, ‘cus they’re important to him.” Although the latter part wasn’t what Moniwa was hoping to hear, he’s incredibly pleased. The children are growing up fast, and he’s so proud of them. He ruffles Futakuchi’s hair.
“Right. Off you go, then.” He stands back and watches as Futakuchi runs over to them, grabbing his best friend in a hug from behind, apologising as the tears build again, bursting into regretful sobs. Aone looks down at him, wriggles around, and hugs him back.
They have a friendship stronger than pushed over building blocks, and although Moniwa wasn’t expecting Aone to forgive Futakuchi so quickly, he has a soft heart. He watches Futakuchi mumble something to Kamasaki, the older grinning and nudging his arm with a friendly fist.
He’s so, so proud of them, so touched by how awesome these children are, and he’s over the moon with how he gets to spend time with them, every day that their parents need to drop them at daycare. Clapping his hands, he draws the children’s attention to him.
“Okay! Who wants to play another game?”