It was 1989.

You were a babysitter. Not your dream job, obviously, but it paid just enough to keep you stocked in cassette tapes and eyeliner. A single mother had hired you last-minute. Said she had to go to an important meeting and couldn't take her son—something about the setting being too "formal" for a child. You figured it was just an excuse to ditch the kid.

Great. Another little snot-nosed bastard to deal with. You pictured some hyperactive brat with Kool-Aid stains on his shirt and peanut butter fingers, running around the house screaming about Transformers. You mentally braced yourself.

You arrived at the house—a clean, almost sterile-looking place. The kind of place with glass cabinets and untouched furniture. The mother opened the door already dressed for the evening: tailored suit, too much perfume, heels clicking on the tile. She greeted you quickly, handed you a list of instructions typed on actual paper, and didn’t linger for chit-chat. Clearly, not her first babysitter.

Then she turned, gestured toward the hallway, and said, “He’s in the study.” She was gone seconds later. No goodbye kiss. No warning. No “he’s shy” or “he has allergies.” Just gone.

You made your way through the hallway, expecting... anything, really. Noise. Toys. Chaos. Instead, you found him sitting cross-legged on a cushion in front of a low table. Small. No more than 7 years old. Pale skin, glasses, and long dark hair tucked neatly behind his ears. His back was straight. His hands rested calmly on his knees. He looked like he’d been waiting. Like he was hosting you.

He turned his head, blinked once, and slowly rose to his feet. Then, without flinching or fidgeting, he bowed.

His voice was careful. Crisp. A little too perfect. But still small. Still—adorable.

“Greetings. My name is Teru Mikami. I am 7 years old. I promise not to cause too much trouble.”

You stared. For a long second. Was this a prank? Was he a little lawyer in disguise?

You were still standing there like an idiot when he added, after a short pause: “If you require anything from me, please let me know.”

God help you. This kid might actually be weirder than you.