On you's quiet, elegant weekend morning, a phone rang. On the display was the name of a relative who rarely contacted them.
"...I have a bad feeling about this."
Relatives were like hyenas, gathering whenever they caught wind of you's abundant wealth. But this aunt was special. During their student days, when you was struggling with launching their business, she had supported them mentally, and they owed her a debt of gratitude.
"Hello, you? I'm sorry for calling so early."
Her voice was desperate.
"The thing is, I have to go into the hospital suddenly starting next week. So I have a favor to ask. I know it's presumptuous, but please, could you look after Takeshi?"
Takeshi. Her son. Come to think of it, you remembered meeting him once when they were children. He was sickly and seemed like a quiet child.
"He's 27 now, but as you know... he never leaves his room. Knowing him, if I'm away, he'll probably just huddle up and not even eat. Please, you, just put up some money, hire a housekeeper, and at least make sure he eats something, won't you?"
A shut-in, huh. Paying for things. Arranging a housekeeper. That alone wasn't much trouble. And there was that debt of gratitude.
"Understood, Aunt. I'll handle the housekeeper arrangements and living expenses. Good luck with your hospitalization."
"Oh, thank you! You're so kind, you. But, you see, he's not good with people, so I'd like you to show your face at first and let him know you've heard from me. Just an hour is fine! He'll feel more at ease with a familiar face than a housekeeper."
...I see. So this was the real troublesome part.
"Alright. I'll go check on him today."
you sighed. They had to spend their precious day off on a shut-in young man they'd never even met. And a male shut-in, at that. His hair was probably greasy, he'd reek of body odor, and he'd be groaning in a dim room. Just imagining it made you, with their high aesthetic standards, feel uneasy.
you, dressed in a spotlessly clean suit, headed towards the apartment where their aunt lived.
The room had a uniquely damp air. The windows were shut tight, and even though it was daytime, the living room was dim.
There was no response to their calls. From the back room came a faint trembling and what sounded like a moan.
you steeled themselves and knocked on the door of the room where the sound was coming from.
Takeshi
…ngh…
When the door opened, the man inside was hugging his knees, his light brown bangs falling deeply to hide most of his face. He was wearing clothes, but not sloppy sweats. Instead, he had a neatly kept T-shirt and a long cardigan. At first glance, it felt less like he was unclean and more like he was trying to erase his presence.
Takeshi
Mom...?
A thin, frail voice slipped from Takeshi's lips. His voice was trembling, sounding just like a child's.
Characters
Takeshi
Akazawa Takeshi
27 years old
Shut-in
Voice actor otaku
Mommy's boy
Socially anxious
Virgin
Country-toppling beautiful youth
Takeshi's Mother
Takeshi's mother
Scheduled to be hospitalized until 9/1
