The Day Off That Didn’t Stay Off

For the first time in weeks, Mutsuki woke up without an alarm, without rehearsals, without a shrine bell, and without dreaming about Akashi howling before dawn just because. The silence was unnatural for him. He usually used his magic to tune down the noise. He sat upright in bed, blinking at the empty house.

No manager. No children. No Youchan. No chaos. Just quiet. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

Maria had forcibly put him on medical leave. Gave a long speech about magical depletion, dizziness, and ‘‘if you collapse during class again, I’ll make you take a whole month off”.

And so, Mutsuki spent the morning wandering aimlessly around his mansion.

He reheated tea. Let it go cold. Watered a plant he didn’t know he owned. I am surprised that’s still alive... Stared at the ceiling. Stared at the stack of old fan letters from his idol days. Stared at nothing in particular. He finally sighed and picked up his phone.

Rin Manager had sent him 3185 messages over the past two months. He winced at the memory of hearing her voice mails and ignoring it all. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed call. She answered almost instantaneously.

‘MUTSUKI KUROYANAGI IF YOU ARE DEAD I WILL– oh. You’re alive.’

‘Hello, Rin-san.’

‘Where have you been? Why did you quit without consulting with me? Why didn’t you answer—’

‘I… was punished for that last scandal.’

‘That wasn’t even your fault?!’

‘I am sorry for leaving without a word, Rin.’

Silence from the other side.

‘Same address yeah? I’m coming.’

‘You don’t have t—’

Call ended. Mutsuki could only stare at his phone. Then at his messy living room. Then at the ceiling again.

‘…I should clean.’

He cleaned like a man possessed. Vacuum. Wipe. Fold. Sweep. He did it all manually. By the time he finished, he was sweating, breathless, and very proud.

Ding-dong. That was impossibly fast for a normal human.

He stood bewildered. No. Can’t be. She lived far from here.

He opened the door. There was no one. Looked left, looked right. No one. Weird.

He went back in and started sorting out rubbish between flammable and not.

Knock knock. Tiny insistent knocking sounds come from his front door. Is someone ding-dong dashing me?

He looked down. A tiny child with scrunched up face holding a magician’s hat stood on the steps. Mon. In his human form, with hair puffed, cheeks smudged with glitters.

‘Sensei! Why did you close the door on me the first time!’ he complained.

‘It’s clear! All checked!’ Mon added.

Before Mutsuki could ask what “we” or “checked” meant, the bushes beside his walkway exploded.

Gon launched out like a rocket. Meow tripped out after him. Kishin crawled out from under the porch like a lost gremlin. Akashi hopped over the railing with a scowl. Sumire emerged from the small fountain on the front. Kojiro dived down from above like an eagle swooping in for a preyy. Seven children flood his front yard all at once.

Mutsuki’s jaw fell open. ‘W–what are you doi—’

They didn’t wait. They walked into his house. Past him, around him and through him. Tiny mob of uninvited spirits. He stood frozen in the doorway, too stunned to function.

Kojiro perched on his counter like a gargoyle. Gon opened his fridge and inspected it like a food critic. Meow apologized in advance to every piece of furniture. Sumire adjusted his curtains without permission. Akashi claimed the sofa and tv. Kishin nervously straightened magazines.
Mon beelined toward the laundry basket like a raccoon discovering treasure. Mutsuki couldn’t speak. A fly could go in and he wouldn’t notice.

This isn’t a visit. This is an invasion!

‘Kids, Sensei is expecting a visitor friend… I don’t know how she would react seeing all of you. She’s a normal, unsuspecting, innocent human.’

The kids teased. ‘Ayieeee Youchan?’

‘No…’ Mutsuki hesitated. Though… that would be nice. The things I will prepare for her. I’d suddenly become a reliable breadwinner.

Kojiro scoffed at Mutsuki’s silly face as he imagined a married life.

‘It’s my manager.’ Mutsuki explained, now back to his senses. ‘Rather, my ex-manager.’

The kids riot. Some ran their mouth while some ran around. Or flew around.

‘Sensei is bringing a girl that is not Youchan home? Blasphemy!’

‘Teach me the ways, oh, my wise Sensei.’

‘He’s an idol! He can have!’

‘I knew you were not a good enough man. Look at you, looking like a girl even in your day off.’

‘Oy.’ Ouch…

‘Is she cute?’

‘Sensei will marry me. He can have concubines.’

‘Where did you even learn that?’

Mutsuki tried but couldn’t divide himself into seven as he did his best to make sure no one gets hurt from any items that needed baby proofing as everyone darted around the house like a extra bouncy rubber ball.

Wait a minute. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven… who is missing!

Honey was missing. Before he could panic fully…

Ding-dong. Again. Whew. Maybe that is Honey. But, how did all of them get here anyways… Hold up, what if it isn’t Honey, but an angry guardian?

After putting a barrier to off-limit rooms and illusion magic to hide yokai forms, Mutsuki walked towards the door like a zombie. Please… please don’t be a dragon guardian. Or Maria. Or a dragon Maria.

He opened the door and sagged some more in relief.

There stood Rin Nakahara, his former manager, hair tied neatly, blazer still immaculate despite the enormous grocery bags she carried.

‘Hello, Mutsuki,’ said Rin, standing there with enormous grocery bags stacked in her arms. ‘You sounded sick. I brought enough food to revive a full tour group.’

‘You already got here? Did you drive?’

‘The trains exist,’ she replied flatly. ‘Also—’

She stepped aside. Behind her stood Honey, holding a paper map with proud determination.

‘Sensei!’ Honey beamed. ‘I helped her! She got lost and she asked me if I know you because she had your picture! I said yes!’

Rin nodded. ‘He recognized you immediately. Very helpful boy. Very polite too. Good job.’

Honey puffed up with pride. Mutsuki stared between them. 

Of course. Honey, the one child who could safely escort a human without risking illusions or spirits bursting out of nowhere.

‘Come in,’ Mutsuki finally managed.

Rin stepped inside and froze midstep. Seven small children were scattered around his living room. Some on the floor, some on the wall. However,  thanks to sheer survival instinct, they were all in perfect human disguises, or close enough. Still, to a human, it was a lot.

Mon had wrapped himself in a blanket like a burrito and rolled across the floor. Gon was reorganizing Mutsuki’s spice rack alphabetically. Well, in his own alphabet. Meow was gently petting the sofa arm like it was alive. Kishin clutched a throw pillow as if preparing to fend off intruders. Akashi had taken Mutsuki’s slipper hostage for reasons unknown. Sumire stood with posture so aristocratic Rin assumed she was a tiny diplomat. Kojiro perched on a chair like a bird trying not to look like a bird. 

They all stared at Rin. Rin stared back. They all watched her slowly set down the grocery bags. The room held its breath.

‘Mutsuki.’ Rin said without taking her eyes off the children.

‘…Yes?’

‘Why,’ she asked carefully, ‘is your house full of children?’

Eight pairs of small eyes widened. Mutsuki’s brain short-circuited, totally forgetting what he was needing to say. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Before he could fabricate a lie or panic into dust, Honey trotted forward helpfully.

‘We’re Sensei’s students!’ he chirped.

‘Students…? This many? This young?’ Rin asked as turned to Mutsuki. ‘In you own home?’

‘Yes!’ Mon said, popping up from inside the blanket. ‘He teaches us important stuff! Like food shopping! And not hugging vending machines! And oh! Taxes!’

‘Not taxes,’ Mutsuki facepalmed.

Sumire bowed gracefully. ‘We are part of a special class.’

Kojiro folded his arms. ‘Extremely special.’

Gon grinned. ‘He’s the best teacher.’

Meow whispered, ‘We like him very much.’

Akashi muttered, ‘He’s mine.’

Mutsuki nearly choked.

Rin listened to this chorus of tiny, unsolicited testimonials until her expression softened.

‘So,’ she murmured after absorbing it all. ‘This is your punishment? Your new life.’

‘Mmm… And they’re not just children. They’re yokai children…’ Mutsuki confessed.

The children watched Rin’s reaction nervously. Meow had her hands curled on her knees. Kishin trembled, ready to cry if she raised her voice. Gon flicked glances between Mutsuki and Rin, tail now visible. Sumire’s pride held, but she stiffened like a princess awaiting judgment.

Rin looked around the room. There were eight anxious children. One missing slipper. Half a spice rack rearranged. A blanket burrito on the floor. 

She inhaled and smiled warmly and genuinely.

‘It seems,’ she said at last, ‘like they’re just children.’

Every tiny shoulder relaxed.

‘Yokai or not,’ she added matter-of-factly, handing Mutsuki a giant bag of perishable good, ‘children are children. And you…’ Her smile tilted wryly. ‘…you were always good with people who needed gentler hands.’

Mutsuki’s breath caught. Gon’s face lit up. Sumire nearly fainted from relief. Kishin exhaled a shuddery sob of happiness. Honey hugged Rin’s knee. Meow purred. Akashi scowled because he felt competitive for Mutsuki’s attention. Kojiro judged silently. As usual.

Rin clapped her hands.

‘Alright!’ she declared.

‘I brought enough food for ten. Who wants to help me unload the rest?’

Eight children shot to their feet.

‘ME!’

‘ME ME ME!’

‘SENSEI’S MANAGER LET ME HELP!’

‘I CAN CARRY TEN BAGS!’

‘NO YOU CAN’T!’

‘I WOULD LIKE TO PARTICIPATE POLITELY.’

‘I CAN TRANSLATE THE INSTRUCTIONS!’

Mutsuki leaned against the doorway, still unable to process the quick progression of scene in front of him. This bizarre scene, human and yokai getting along, my past colliding with my present, feels somehow abnormal yet warm. Am I really allowed to have both?