Chapter 2-1: Cowboys and Custody (ft. Charles and Kenji)

Auntie bowed wordlessly as Charles greeted her, and murmured thanks when he complimented her home. Water was already boiling, long before Charles had shown, but she needed to mix some ingredients for tea before adding it to the simmering water. The slender man went about asking the usual questions, his faux pas going entirely unnoticed by the woman, who was wholly absorbed in her task.

"Health concerns? No sir," she said frankly, "Except for his predisposition for foolishness."

The addendum was added with a note of humor.

"I will miss that little firecracker. Take good care of him, Carter-san."

Or perhaps his faux-pas had not gone unnoticed. It was just as Kenji said-- nothing escaped her.

While the adults were downstairs, the boy was in his room, frantically gathering the last of his belongings-- his backpack, his cowboy hat (or rather, Charles's cowboy hat, that he had given Kenji), and his only stuffed animal-- a rather rotund plushie of his favorite Capsule Monster's creature. The backpack was wriggled into, the cowboy hat was plopped onto the boy's head, and the Capsule Monster was tucked under-arm before the boy charged downstairs, nearly stumbling at the bottom step.

"No running!" he heard Auntie holler from the kitchen. This time, Kenji listened, but only because he needed to push that hat up from his eyes to see. The hat was tailored to Charles's much larger, adult-sized head, so it had the tendency to fall down over Kenji's forehead. When he walked into the kitchen, he spied Auntie at the stove, and Charles sitting casually at the dining-room table. A couple of keys were tossed his way, and Kenji dropped the Capsule Monster in order to catch them with his two hands.

"Aun-tie!" the boy whined, "What are you doing?"

"Making tea for our guest."

Her reply was terse, but she did not look up from the stove.

"Aun-tiiiieeeeeeee," Kenji groaned, "We gotta go!"

The boy shoved the keys down into his pants pocket, and picked-up his plushie.

"Kenji, one day you will understand what it means to be a good host," Auntie reprimanded him, turning marginally to fix him with a beady-eyed stare.

"Auntie! He has a cab!" the boy persisted, remembering that tidbit that had followed him up the stairs, "It would be- rude of us- to keep him!" Kenji moved towards Charles, taking a hold of his hand, and then attempting to drag him from the chair and lead him down the hall, "He is literally... paying... for our hospitality, Auntie."

"Ah, sou?" Auntie mused. She couldn't argue with that. The kettle was turned-off, and she walked back over to the boy, wrapping him in another python-hug. Kenji released Charles's hand, and hugged her back, trying desperately not to lose his breath.

"You write to me, Kenji Murano," she insisted, "Write to your auntie, and tell her what you make of yourself."

"I will... if you don't suffocate me to death!"

"This boy," she breathed, humored as she let him go, "I'll follow you out."

Finally free, Kenji walked back to Charles, all smiles. With his plushie in his arms, he walked to the front door, slipped into his shoes, and opened the door to the outside. He stepped-out, the to the side, so that Charles could leave the way.

"You write to me," Auntie reiterated.

"I will."

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It felt like forever before they finally made it to the car, Kenji spilling into the backseat and fastening his seatbelt. He cast a glance back up the path to the little two-story townhouse he'd called home for the past few years, Auntie's stout frame filling the door. She saw Kenji watching, and raised her hand in a brief wave. Kenji waved back, his farewell energetic. Even when it came to goodbyes, he couldn't calm down. The other door popped open as Charles sank into the cab, and Kenji turned his attention to his guardian, fidgeting in his seat. Directions were given to the cabbie, money was exchanged, and the taxi cab rolled away from the curb.

“I am excited for my new school,” Kenji confirmed, emphatic in his declaration, “There'll be all these new people, and I'll be the… like… mysterious new kid!” Which meant people would pay attention to him. He'd milk that for as long as he could.

That being said, when Charles offered to take him to see “his old friends”, the cowboy received a lukewarm, “Eeehhh, that's alright.”

The antics that some adults found endearing were often regarded as super annoying by Kenji's peers. As such, he had… very few friends to speak of. And that was being generous. He removed his hat, setting it on the head of his Capsule Creature plushie, so that he could slouch back into his seat. Charles explained the living situation-- how on-paper he'd live at Pink Jackal, but he was free to stay at Charles's house, too. On the futon, or on an air mattress.

“The futon is fine,” Kenji assured Charles, still wriggling in his seat. The air mattress just sounded like even more of a hassle than the futon, and the futon itself was relatively plush. From Kenji's perspective, it seemed more likely that he'd sleep at Charles's house, largely because the Pink Jackal represented some great unknown. Charles’s place was familiar, and cozy, and was already infused here-and- there with his things.

But there wasn't room for all of his things.

“When do… I mean, when will we… go there? To the new place?” Kenji mused, “Are there other kids?”

His restless hand poked at the keys in his pocket through the fabric of his cargo pants. There were some unspoken uncertainties that lingered in the back of his mind, predominantly centering on the idea that Charles could abandon him at this new place. But the boy would never admit to that.

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Kenji feigned surprise, his mouth forming a delicate "o" at his guardian's critique, leaning over in his seat to push at Charles's arm with the palm of his hand.

"You don't hear me-- lecturing about-- your American accent," the boy chastised. Even if Charles was kind-of right, Kenji would fight him on this one. As Charles detailed the move-in process, Kenji listened, however restlessly. He fussed with whatever was in his immediate vicinity-- the lock to the door, his own hands, the window-switch-- one might interpret this to mean that the boy wasn't paying attention. Kenji was quick to dispel this misconception, however, for when Charles proposed to let his "Boss" watch Kenji, the auburn-haired lad shook his head almost violently.

"Only you," he repeated. The phrase was sure to dredge-up memories for both the man and the boy. Memories that were still recent, and still raw. Kenji's tone was steady, "Nobody else. Only you."

Even Auntie had gone through a period of slowly earning Kenji's trust. Kenji had never really glommed-on to an authority figure so quickly, or so desperately. But Charles’s mettle had been forged in the most intense, earth-shattering confrontation in Kenji’s recent past. He couldn’t fathom accepting anyone else. This didn’t, however, chase the nervous restlessness out of his hands. He picked at a particularly worn spot on his shorts, near one of the pockets. Something about this just seemed too good to be true.

Eventually, the cab would pull up to Charles's complex, allowing the child to catapult out of his seat. He would have run ahead of Charles-- and very well could have, with his own set of keys-- but the boy was checking to be sure that the slender cowboy was following him. It was as if, if he pulled his eyes away from him for too long, Charles would simply be spirited away.

“Pizza sounds awesome!” the boy agreed brightly.

There was a lot of back-and-forth, for though Kenji was waiting for Charles, his pace was still flighty. Up the stairs, then down the stairs, then back up again, like a frantic moon in orbit of a steady planet. Finally, the two landed in the apartment, and Kenji breathed a breath he hadn’t been aware that he was holding.

Rather than settle in any, singular place, he bobbed around anxiously, from a shear excess of nervous energy. His things were deposited on the floor at the far end of the futon, where most of Kenji’s belongings were amassed.

“I don’t mind staying,” Kenji echoed distractedly. It was clear the boy was a bundle of nerves. Maybe he should sit? He should sit. Futon. Yeah. Even when he sat, he sat restlessly, perching on the wooden arm of the futon. His eyes wandered near the ceilings, as if he hadn’t seen the apartment before, and then he glanced at Charles, tilting a hesitant smile.

“I’m sorry,” the boy blurted suddenly, his ears flushing slightly, “I always get so--” he stirred the air near his temple with an index finger. He always got so crazy, “-when I change houses. I’ll calm down.”

This was what living with someone was about, right? Being real? So he’d be real, he was feeling a little high-strung.

“Probably. I’ll probably calm down.”

And then he was on his feet again, the fidgety dance he was doing evidence to the contrary.

ooc notes:

The boy remained standing, for a moment, while Charles placed the order for pizza. The boy strode to the small dining room table, leaning on one of the chairs. Then he watched as his guardian completed the order, then walked to the futon and sank into it. The t.v was turned on, and the offhanded offer to lend a listening ear was extended.

Kenji was still watching Charles. But despite his usual motor-mouth tendencies, he was quiet. Boys weren't supposed to be scared of stupid stuff, like getting left behind. Boys were supposed to be tough and independent. As such… they were at a kind of impasse.

Kenji pushed himself off of the table and meandered into the kitchen. One could hear him open a cabinet, retrieve a few glasses, close the cabinet, and then briefly run the sink. He returned with a couple tumblers of tap water. Auntie had trained him well.

He deposited the glasses of water onto their own coasters, eyeing the t.v., then Charles. The boy stepped past him. But, rather than collapse into the opposite corner, he sat flush with Charles's side. He wriggled his shoulders a bit-- but then, when Charles didn't seem to get the message, Kenji helped him along. With a small, scabby hand, the boy lifted the cowboy's arm. Then he leaned back and left the arm settle around his shoulders.

Charles offered to be there, perhaps verbally. Kenji wanted physical reassurance. He leaned against Charles's side. He didn't even look up at Charles. He just kept his eyes turned towards the television.

Kenji's restlessness seemed to quiet, with this proximity to his guardian-- he still picked at the hem of his shorts, but he wasn't bobbing around the room like a balloon in the breeze, anymore.

A short spell of silence drifted between the two, the chatter from the t.v. filling the gap. It was some brainless t.v. show, that transitioned to even less substantial commercials...

“You wouldn't dump me at this new place, would you?”

He didn't look at Charles when he finally voiced his fears. Kenji clenched the hem of his shorts, squinting at the t.v.

ooc notes:

never asked. In his small, somewhat sheltered world, he thought an adult simply had to ask for a child, and they were theirs. He didn't know there were hoops to jump through. Kenji was quiet as Charles spoke, his eyes turning away from the television, to pry his mind away from the distraction. Charles would go that far? For him? He leaned against the cowboy's shoulder, right around the time that Charles decided to pull free of him.

Kenji looked a little forlorn, at that. He wasn't one to cry, but you'd have to be totally heartless not to be touched by the proclamation. Kenji's lips thinned to a l ine at Charles's proclamation, and he nodded his head. Sharply at first, and then more emphatically.

"Even if your place is small," Kenji started. He didn't mean it in a bad way, but... honestly... it was a small place, meant for one person, not two, "I... I dunno. It feels more like home than a lot of the places I've been."

He had niches of space that were his, even before he officially started living there. And if he had Pink Jackal as a base of operations, but Charles's apartment as an actual place to live... well, that would be just fine by him.

Kenji drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them.

"I wanna live in my home." Kenji concluded, towards the television, "I just wanna land somewhere and stay. You know?"

And this was home. He rested his chin on his knees.

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