Chapter Text
I had been searching for new possible jobs for a while; browsing all types of websites for a change of scenery, for an opportunity to start anew far away from West City. After finishing my last degree and working in my dad's company for eight years while also stuck in a futureless relationship, I was stirring to explore new horizons, to try and find out if there was anything else I could do that could breathe life into the dullness my day to day routine had become, for I knew there had to be more out there.
"Looking for a private teacher for an eight-year-old boy who must be willing to live in our home in Mount Paozu. Applicants must be able to formulate a custom teaching plan that focuses on physics, chemistry, algebra, programming, and mechanics. Please send your CV, all pertinent education certificates, and at least two recommendation letters."
I had ventured into teaching a couple of times: Once in college when I used to tutor some of the first-semester students, and also in the few times I had been asked to give lectures, yet it had never really been something I had actively sought out. Yet, the idea of using this job as an excuse for moving to Mount Paozu, a pretty well-known destination for hiking and birdwatching, was appealing enough that I didn't really hesitate much before gathering all the necessary documents and submitting my application.
I quickly began to fantasize about what I would encounter if I was chosen for the job. I imagined the boy to be of the silent type, probably homeschooled since he was of school age, yet he had to be quite advanced since it wasn't common for schools to teach those kinds of subjects to children of that age. I imagined bonding over that with him since I too had become interested in those subjects from the moment I first saw my dad working in his lab.
I also began to imagine how this house would look like and how it fit in a town like Mount Paozu. I constantly looked up images on the internet, marveling at the lush countryside, at the quaint houses that littered it. Even when I imagined the house to be a cute little cabin, surrounded by nature, the image clashed with the idea of a family that could afford to pay for a live-in private teacher, so the cute little cottage soon morphed into a large house that sat in a vast plot of land, with animals and lots of servants, but that still maintained all of the coziness and charm. The family I picture in my head would also constantly change. Somedays, I would imagine the typical couple: a father who worked constantly, who was probably stern in nature, and who would often spend his time hunting on the family's land. His wife, a kind homemaker, whose love for baking would have the house constantly smelling of fresh bread and oatmeal cookies. Other times, I would picture the child only living with one of his parents, who due to their constant working, rarely had time to spend with the kid and would often be traveling. Some would say that it was stupid to invest so much brain power trying to picture a future to which I might not even be invited into, but it wasn't really in my power to deny my imagination; the images would just pop up in my head any time I had a minute of downtime.
Luckily, I didn't have to wait long before receiving an answer. A couple of days after sending my application, I got contacted by a man called Nappa Kiabetsu and we promptly set a date for a video call. In all my mental scenarios, I never imagined anything close to the man I met that day over Zoom. He was a bald man who seemed to be in his forties with a horseshoe mustache and very buff for his age. From the moment the call connected, he got right down to the point, asking specific questions about my background and experience, and about why I was interested in such a job. On a rare occasion, one of my jokes would make him smirk slightly, but then his serious expression returned and it was back to business. Not used to my charms being ignored in such a way, by the time the interview ended and even when he said that I would be hearing from him once he had gone through all the applications, my hopes of actually being hired were close to zero. I ended the call, closed my laptop with a sigh, and proceeded to banish all the daydreams that had built up in my mind over the past few days.
Imagine my surprise when, a week later I received an email from that same man asking if I would be willing to go meet with him in person. Trying to sound as professional as possible, I replied and soon received another email with a round-trip airplane ticket, the information about who would be picking me up at the airport and where exactly I was going. Excited, I let my parents know about the news, to which they just answered with wishes for everything to turn out how I was expecting it to. I got a bag ready and on a cold Thursday morning, I headed to the West City airport to be received two and a half hours later in Satan City by an old man —described on the e-mail as Mr. Okumura— who held a sign with my name written on it.
We drove for another hour and a half as it rained, our surroundings slowly changing from the grey hues of the industrial outskirts of Satan City to the oranges and reds of the leaves on the trees; from buildings to mountains. Suddenly, more and more houses began to appear on the side of the road; the road signs continuously indicating we were getting close. We got to a roundabout and took the first exit to the right and the road got windier until we reached a valley surrounded by immense rocky mountains where the town of Mount Paozu was nestled.
As we drove through the narrow cobbled streets, my eyes took in the grey stone walls, the wooden windows, and the smooth black roofs of the houses I had by now seen hundreds of times on the internet. There wasn't much activity, I managed to catch just a few old ladies walking under their big umbrellas with shopping bags hanging from their hands, the shops opening their doors, and a bus or two leaving tourists at the visitor center. The streets got steeper and steeper as we drove south, and we soon crossed a tunnel built right through the rocky barrier, exiting the town.
We drove up the mountain, on one side of the car always rock, and on the other, tall trees. At one point, the road got so narrow I sometimes felt we were going to scrape the cars that came in the opposite direction. In one of the curves, the trees cleared and I got to see the roofs of the houses I had just seen up close, which from there were mere black patches among the fall colors, and we began to descend. The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror and informed me that we would arrive in 30 minutes, I just smiled and replied with a simple "Oh, ok. Thank you!". By now it was obvious why the job required the applicant to be able to move in, for if Mount Paozu was considered a remote town, the house was even deeper into the unknown.
The driver slowed down and turned right into a dirt road, the forest surrounding us getting even thicker. The sun began to shine a little brighter and I opened my window, letting the drizzle that had covered the windows now spray my face and I smiled as I took in the smell of rain and mud. When the trees began to become more scarce, we stopped in front of an iron fence. The driver rolled down the window and announced himself on the communicator, and the door soon opened. I continued looking out the window to the terrain that went from a thick forest to a grassy plain.
The tires went from sloshing in the mud to crunching over gravel. My eyes then shifted from my window to the windshield, and I saw for the first time the place I had hoped I would be invited to move into. I wasn't a stranger to mansions, yet this one still took me by surprise, I suppose because it stood in stark contrast to the little houses I had seen just a few moments ago. It was a large rectangle, two stories high with a wing that extended diagonally on its left. Its stone walls were covered in places with ivy, which contrasted beautifully with the several cedar windows and the big hand-carved wooden door. Out of the black roof rose several chimneys which were already puffing out smoke. As soon as the car stopped, the man I had talked with over video call stepped out of the portico with an umbrella and opened my door.
"Welcome to the Sadala estate, Miss Briefs. I hope you had a good trip."
"Thank you," I said as I took his hand and got out of the car, "it was great. You live in a beautiful place."
I followed him into the house where a maid stood waiting to receive my coat. It was warm but dark, the whole entrance's walls were covered with the same stone as the outside. I was ushered to the great room, and Mr. Kiabetsu and I sat down in the armchairs by the fire. He was much bigger in person; the black wool suit he wore clung tightly to his broad shoulders as the little drops of rain on it shimmered in the fireplace's light. He asked the maid to bring tea and biscuits and then addressed me.
"I'm glad you could make it," he said as he crossed his legs, "I hope the drive here didn't make you reconsider taking this position. Most of our candidates declined once they learned where they would have to move to."
"I can see why," I smiled, "I guess the same reason they said no is the reason I'm excited for the job."
"Had you ever come to Mount Paozu before?"
"No, I'd only heard about it. So far I'm pretty pleased."
"That's good." He signaled the maid to place the tray on the coffee table, thanked her, and continued as he took one of the cups. "Lucky for us that the most qualified candidate we had is also for some reason charmed by this place."
I smiled again as I took a sip, "I could never turn down such an offer. If I'm honest, it's exactly what I've been looking for."
"Unhappy with your position at Capsule Corp.?" he asked as he lifted an eyebrow, "Not many people would abandon such a position to come tutor a child."
"I wouldn't say unhappy... I just believe in always expanding my horizons. It never hurts to try something new."
"I can agree with that but don't you fear this may be too... 'below your paygrade', to put it someway? We're talking about an eight-year-old after all."
"I built an army of cleaning robots for my mom at that age, and I guess if I'm here, your son must also be pretty advanced."
He smirked, "Oh, the boy is not my son but you're right, he is really advanced for his age. He's been begging for us to find him a teacher for ages."
"Can I meet him?"
"Of course. Natsuki," he called and a different maid appeared a few seconds later. "Could you bring Gohan?" She nodded and headed upstairs. "He's not used to seeing anyone besides the staff, so he might be a little shy," he said as he reached for one of the biscuits.
As we waited, I eyed around the room. There were no photos, just a couple of paintings decorating the walls. On the bookshelves that stood far to the left of the chimney, besides books, there were only a few sculptures and a vase with red roses, some powder pink dahlias, and goldenrods. My exploration was interrupted by the sound of shoes slapping against the hardwood floor. Natsuki soon appeared with a little boy with long black hair and equally dark eyes, dressed in brown wool slacks and a grey sweater over a white shirt. Mr. Kiabetsu called him over and he walked toward us with his hands behind his back to stand in between both armchairs.
"Gohan, this is Miss Briefs," he said and gestured toward me. The boy sheepishly looked at me.
"Hi Gohan, nice to meet you," I said with a smile, trying to make him feel at ease. He smiled back and his round cheeks pinkened. "Mr. Kiabetsu was telling me about you wanting a tutor for a really long time."
We talked about what he knew so far in the subjects I was supposed to teach him. He was extremely shy but really well-spoken and after a few minutes of talking, he began to warm up to me. I told him about my childhood designing and building devices with my dad, and about what I did in my current job. When he found out I worked in Capsule Corp., he got excited and told me about his favorite invention of ours: a pet robot dragon that could breathe fire that I had personally worked on. At one point, he ran upstairs and swiftly came back with a few of his creations. During this whole conversation, Mr. Kiabetsu stayed quiet and just looked at us, his eyebrows slightly raised, until he finally interjected.
"Look at you Gohan, I don't think I've ever heard you speak this much."
The boy blushed as he lowered his eyes, his little fingers played with each other.
"He just needed to meet the right person, right?" I asked him with a wink. He looked at me and gave me a little smile, his cheeks getting even redder.
A low chuckle came out of Mr. Kiabetsu, "That's true. I don't think there's anyone here he can talk about this with." He stood up, righted his clothes, and walked toward the window. "I think it stopped raining... shall we show Miss Briefs around?"
The boy nodded and we all went outside. The whole tour of the grounds must've taken at least two hours. We went by the horse stables, where Gohan showed me his horse, a beautiful young Appaloosa, all white with brown spots named Hiya. I got introduced to the stablemaster, a man in his fifties named Mr. Arima, who ruffled Gohan's hair once he saw him. Then, we passed by where they kept the cows, sheep, and chickens. Gohan showed me an ewe he had named Mochi and explained that it was expected to give birth in April. He knew the names of every single animal on the estate, and I couldn't help but smile from seeing how he doted on them. One of the last places we went to was a little pond on the far east side of the property. As soon as we got there, Gohan headed straight to a flock of ducks that were coming out of the water. As he chased them around, his pants quickly getting splattered with mud, the curiosity gnawing my insides won and so, I finally dared to ask.
"So, if Gohan's not your son, then who's his father?"
Mr. Kiabetsu's eyes continued following the child, "His parents died a few years ago. My boss, the owner of this entire property, has been taking care of him since then."
"Oh, I thought for sure you were the owner."
He chuckled, "Oh, no, that would be Mr. Ouji. He doesn't come around often, and when he does he usually doesn't stay long. To be honest, I don't usually come here often either, so Gohan's usually just with the staff. Mr. Ouji told me a few weeks ago to find the tutor the kid had been asking for, I guess he felt bad for him. The last time he came, the kid barely spoke."
I looked at Gohan as he played, my heart feeling heavy. I felt so sorry for him; so young and already so alone, in this big house in the middle of nowhere. All the scenarios I had imagined, and in reality this kid had no doting mother, or busy father, only an absent... whatever Mr. Ouji was to him. No wonder he cared so much about the animals, I thought.
"So, Miss Briefs," he continued now looking at me, "I think it's safe to say Gohan likes you very much. I think it would be pretty hard to find someone better suited for the job so... Will you stay?"
I looked at the man as he towered over me. The air was cold, yet by now the sun was shining brightly, warming my skin. I returned my gaze to the child splashing around, the rough mountain rising far above the line of trees that stood behind the pond. Gohan ran after a duckling, and delicately caught it in his hands, lifting them to show it to us, a big smile on his face, which I mirrored.
"I would be happy to."