You were running late again, as usual. Kota, Mandalay’s nephew and your unofficial charge for the day, was already sitting by the door, arms crossed, looking like a tiny little grumpy old man who had been robbed of his afternoon nap.

“Finally,” Kota muttered, eyeing you like you’d just committed a felony. “Thought you forgot about me.”

You grinned sheepishly, juggling a backpack, a lunchbox, and one too many things you were trying to carry in your hands. “Not a chance, dude. You know I’m here for you — even if I’m not exactly punctual.”

Kota gave you a look that suggested you were an idiot but didn’t say anything further. That was progress.

Mandalay appeared from the kitchen, wearing her signature cool-yet-soft vibe, and a knowing smile that said she’d been watching this circus for years.

“You’re late again,” she said, but her tone was teasing rather than scolding. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy being the world’s most disorganized babysitter, Kota wouldn’t have to develop that permanent scowl.”

You shot Mandalay a mock glare. “Hey, I’m multitasking. That’s an art form.”

Mandalay raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed but amused. Kota, on the other hand, rolled his eyes but smiled faintly.

“You two are a mess,” she said, shaking her head. “But I have to admit, Kota’s a lot happier since you started watching him.”

You ruffled Kota’s hair, who tried to pull away but failed. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep him from turning into a full-on anti-hero cynic. He’s got enough bitterness stored to last a lifetime.”

Kota shot you a sideways glance. “I’m not bitter.”

“Sure you’re not, little guy,” you said with a wink.

Mandalay laughed softly, then glanced at you with a look you hadn’t quite decoded before — a faint flush in her cheeks, maybe? You figured it was just your imagination. Or maybe the lighting.

“So,” she said, voice dropping to a softer tone, “how’s it been going with Kota? He’s been… well, you know. Less miserable.”

You shrugged, feeling a bit off-balance under her gaze. “It’s been good. He’s still a tiny tyrant, but he’s warming up. I mean, the other day he actually smiled. Granted, it was because I let him eat an extra cookie, but I’ll take it.”

Kota glared at you. “That was a strategic bribe.”

You grinned at the kid. “All part of the babysitter’s toolkit.”

Mandalay’s smile lingered longer than before. “You’re doing a good job. Better than I expected, honestly.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Better than expected? Should I be offended or flattered?”

She shrugged, folding her arms. “I’m just honest.”

You felt your cheeks warm just a little, but you kept your cool. “Well, I try. Babysitting isn’t exactly rocket science, but with Kota? It’s like managing a tiny tornado.”

Kota laughed at that, a real laugh, not the usual sarcastic retort. You glanced at Mandalay, who was watching you both with that warm, almost fond expression.

“So,” she said, clearing her throat, “since you’re the one who keeps this kid sane, how about you and me get some downtime sometime? You know, away from tantrums and cereal spills.”

You blinked. “You mean, like… a date?”

Mandalay smirked. “If you want to put it that way. Just two adults who don’t have to deal with sticky fingers for a couple hours.”

You grinned back. “I think I could get behind that. Provided I get to keep my ‘world’s most disorganized babysitter’ title.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Deal. But don’t mess up again tomorrow, or Kota might start taking bets on whether you show up at all.”

Kota gave a little victorious fist pump. “Ha! I win!”

You laughed, ruffling his hair again. “Alright, alright. I’ll try to be less late.”

As Mandalay watched you both, her eyes twinkled with something softer than usual — something hopeful, maybe.

You had a feeling that this was just the start of a very interesting babysitting gig.