Akayuki (Red Snow)--Michael's Past Part 8

Author's Note: Reminder: Chucky is still human. He hasn't transferred his soul yet. 

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction. It is intended for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual persons living or deceased is purely coincidental.

~o~

Lonnie didn’t appear at the tea house the next day or the day after. 

Michael assumed the boy had finally taken his advice and returned to school. Good. He belonged in school, not a tea house.

When a week passed, Michael wondered what had happened to the boy. 

“Ask his mother,” Annie suggested when he brought up the subject of Lonnie at dinner. 

Michael shook his head.

“I don’t know her, and her family is not my business.” He reached out and laid a hand on his wife’s pregnant belly. He smiled as their child chose that moment to kick.

However, he couldn’t stop thinking as he rolled dango the next morning what he would do if his own child became distant.

“Move over.” Lonnie. Pulling up a chair to the counter, an apron tied around his new clothes.

“Did you…”

“I washed my hands twice,” Lonnie finished as he tore off a small piece of dough and rolled it into a ball. “Did you soak…”

“The skewers are ready,” Michael assured him. “We have enough mochi-flavored dango. Make sakura-flavored now.”

“Are these too small?” Lonnie held up the dango he had just made.

“No.” Michael allowed a shy smile to appear on his face. “They’re perfect, Lonnie.”

~o~

“Good work today, Boss.”

“I’m not your boss.” Michael closed the tea house doors and locked them. “Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow is our busy day, remember?”

“Not yet. I want to give Annie some of the dango I made.” Lonnie held up a cloth-wrapped bundle.

“Lonnie?” Michael asked on the way home.

“What?”

“Would you like…never mind.” Michael refocused on the road ahead of him.

“What? What?” Lonnie demanded. “Would I like to be your assistant? Because YES!”

Michael scowled.

“Lower your voice, idiot.”

“So I’m your assistant now, right?”

“Wrong.”

“Aw! No fair! I did a good job today. I worked hard and everything.”

“If you’re going to continue helping out at the tea house, you need better clothes,” Michael said.

Lonnie stopped and checked the condition of his shirt and pants. They were hand-me-downs from his older brother but they were hardly threadbare. Although, his sandals were held together with string. He sighed.

Michael paused not far from the boy, and not looking back at Lonnie, he said, “I can loan you a uniform. I think one of Annie's old shirts will fit you. I’ll buy you a new pair of pants and some shoes.”

“A girl’s shirt?” Lonnie recoiled at the thought.

“The tea house uniforms are all plain, dark blue shirts and pants,” Michael reminded him. “I would lend you one of my shirts, but it would be too big.”

“Boogeyman-sama’s shirt?” Lonnie considered it. “I’ll wear Annie's shirt instead.”

“If you would rather go to school and wear their uniform, I understand. I can make better dango than you anyway.” That said, Michael resumed walking.

“Wait!” Lonnie chased after him, as expected. “If it means I get to dress like you, I guess I can accept a uniform. Girls seem to like Boogeyman-sama.”

Michael smirked but said nothing more.

They were approaching Michael's house now, and something felt off. Michael paused in the road, studying his house. The house itself looked no different than when he had left it this morning. However…

The paper lantern. Annie hasn’t lit the lantern. Something is wrong.

“Lonnie, run back and get the doctor. Bring Annie's father, too.” Annie's father was the village constable. Even if nothing was wrong, just the baby being born early, his father-in-law would want to be there to greet his grandchild.

Lonnie, for once, didn’t argue or ask useless questions, he turned and ran back the way they had come.

Michael resumed the walk forward, his heart beating hard against his chest as he approached his home. As he stepped into the front yard, he noticed the front door stood open. He restrained himself from calling out Annie's name. Drawing attention to himself or his wife wouldn’t help. 

He crossed the yard to the front porch, climbed the two steps, and met the man who appeared in the doorway.

“Yo, Mikey-bro. Welcome home.”

Michael’s right eye widened in surprise then narrowed on the grinning man.

“Chucky.”