Volume 3 Chapter 6 The Afternoon Preschooler
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
(Grrr…) The sound of hungry bellies echoed from every corner of the room.
A quick glance at the clock showed it was nearly 11:30 AM. It was a bit early, but it was finally time for lunch. The Hospital Doctors¹ moved with practiced efficiency, calling out “Coming through~” as they slid the low tables together, linking them into long cafeteria-style rows. The preschoolers scrambled to pull their placemats from their backpacks. The girls mostly had cute mascots while the boys went for the classic superhero teams and cars. Mine, however, was a sophisticated navy blue plaid. (As a choice for a three-year-old, I’d swung for the fences and missed the mark of “normalcy” entirely; my mental age was far beyond wanting cartoon characters on my gear.)
Sitting next to me, Suu-chan² had a pale pink version of the same plaid. We were matching. Even when Mio-san recommended character goods to her, Suu-chan would always check what I was picking and try to coordinate. It was undeniably adorable. Shiho-chan was exactly as you’d expect for her age: her mat featured that world-famous white kitten standing on two legs in a dozen different poses.
The Hospital Doctors began distributing the meals. (I imagine once we’ve been at this kindergarten a bit longer, we’ll be expected to do it ourselves, but for now, the risk of the food “meeting a tragic end” on the floor is far too high for the staff to take.) Today’s menu was rice, consommé soup, sardine sliders, shumai, and macaroni salad, rounded off with a small slice of an orange. Honestly, it was a more balanced meal than your average salaryman gets. Apparently, this place had its own dedicated kitchen where they prepped fresh meals for the kids and the Hospital Doctors every day.
”””Let’s eat!”””
The children boisterously echoed the Hospital Doctor’s greeting. I found myself flanked: Suu-chan on my right, Shiho-chan on my left. I’ve always been a “corner of the room” kind of guy, but ever since the Entrance Ceremony, these two haven’t let me sit anywhere else. It was a bit restless. I kept hoping Suu-chan and Shiho-chan would bond more so I can put Suu-chan in the middle, but they seemed perfectly content just munching away like little hamsters. They’d clearly taken Mio-san’s lessons on lady-like etiquette to heart-no talking with your mouth full. (I suppose I should stop people-watching and start eating, too.)
Suu-chan was already a pro with chopsticks. She crossed them occasionally, but she mostly had it down. (Even adults slip up and let a cherry tomato go flying every now and then.) Shiho-chan was still struggling, though. She was using those training chopsticks with the finger loops to keep her grip steady. She brought a spoon and fork as backup, but seeing Suu-chan and me using the real deal, she was determined to master them. As for me? I was a chopstick grandmaster. Right hand, left hand-it didn’t matter. (Being ambidextrous is just objectively cool, right? It’s the kind of thing everyone dreams of but gives up on because it’s such a chore to learn. I, however, had nothing but time to practice.)
* * *
After lunch and a quick brush of the teeth, it was nap time. Yuna-chan had mentioned that her three-year-old program did away with naps, so I’d been worried, but I was internally relieved to find this kindergarten still kept them on the schedule. A toddler’s body has terrible fuel economy; getting through the day without a recharge is brutal. Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded a morning and evening nap, too.
The curtains were drawn, plunging the room into a soft, hazy dimness. Between the full belly and the lighting, the countdown to a forced system shutdown had already begun. The tables were cleared away, replaced by a floor carpeted with futons. The Hospital Doctors worked like a pit crew: one pushing the cart, one hauling the mats off, and one “plating” the blankets on top. In less than a minute, twenty beds were ready to go.
There were no pillows, though. The other kids didn’t seem to care, but I couldn’t relax unless my head was propped up. I fished two clean towels from my bag to craft a makeshift pillow-folding one for height and wrapping the second around it to keep it from unraveling.
(It wasn’t much, but having something there made all the difference.)
Suu-chan and Shiho-chan watched my “crafting” with wide eyes and immediately started mimicking me. I wasn’t sure they actually needed them, considering they usually end up nowhere near their pillows by the time they wake up, but they seemed proud of their work.
”Done,” said Suu-chan.
”Shiho did it too!” Shiho-chan cheered.
”You made them so nicely,” I replied.
We migrated to our usual spot in the corner-the safety zone where the rowdy kids rarely venture. I collapsed onto the mat. The last thing I felt was the presence of Suu-chan and Shiho-chan settling in on either side of me before I lost consciousness.
* * *
I woke up feeling an odd warmth spreading across half my body. Suu-chan was clinging to me. (She’d started the nap in her own bed to keep up appearances, but clearly, once she was out, she’d migrated into my futon to snuggle.) I glanced the other way and saw Shiho-chan’s feet. I wasn’t sure which one of us was the restless sleeper, but the formation was a mess.
I lay there for a bit, listening to Suu-chan’s quiet breathing, as the room slowly buzzed back to life. About a third of the kids were still dead to the world, while the early risers were already starting free play time. As much as I wanted to just watch Suu-chan’s defenseless sleeping face, the staff needed to clear the mats.
”Suu-chan,” I whispered.
”……Mnh, ………Ma-kun?” Suu-chan mumbled.
”Good morning, Suu-chan.”
”Mufuu…. ……’morning,” Suu-chan said.
As soon as she realized how close my face was, she broke into a sleepy grin and squeezed me even tighter. (So much for “lady-like etiquette” during the wake-up call.)
”Shiho-chan, time to get up~” I called out.
”Uuun…, zzz…” Shiho-chan groaned.
Shiho-chan was a heavy sleeper. Shaking her shoulder got a mumble, but she just rolled over.
”Alright, Suu-chan, do your thing!”
”Roger~” said Suu-chan.
On my signal, Suu-chan rolled over like a little log, attacking Shiho-chan with soft, playful pats.
”Shi-chan, wake up,” Suu-chan said.
”Uuun…”
Finally, Shiho-chan started to wiggle and slowly sat up.
”Morning, Shiho-chan,” I said.
”Morning,” Suu-chan added.
”………Nnh, …’morning?” Shiho-chan asked.
She was still in a fog. (I’ll give her a minute to fully boot up. In the meantime, I’d better wipe the drool off her chin. …And Suu-chan’s too.)
* * *
With our batteries recharged, it was time to burn off some energy outside. We bypassed the older kids dominating the jump ropes and headed straight for the playground equipment. They had everything: horizontal bars, monkey bars, a climbing pole, a jungle gym, a “trident” triple-slide, tire vaults, a bouldering wall, and a massive sandbox. It put the local park to shame.
”Suu-chan, Shiho-chan, what’s the plan?” I asked.
”Hmm~…, let me see…” Suu-chan pondered.
”I want the slide!” Shiho-chan shouted.
Shiho-chan was still browsing, but Suu-chan made the executive decision. We headed for the slide. I took the lead, scaling the metal rungs that were frankly a bit too steep to be called “stairs.” Unlike the solid concrete slides at the park, this was a thin, rattling metal setup. The top platform felt like it was miles in the air-at least double my current height.
The wind whistled through the bars, and the drop-off was visible through the gaps. There were four Hospital Doctors standing guard, but if anything, the fact that they needed four people for “safety” made me feel even less secure. (A sudden flashback of Mitsuhisa-san giving me “high-highs”-and me nearly wetting myself-hit me like a freight train.)
But I couldn’t look like a coward in front of Suu-chan. (Deep breaths. If I don’t fall, I won’t die.) I reached the top and, avoiding looking straight down, picked the far-right lane of the triple slide. The line was forming behind me, so I couldn’t stall. Suu-chan was already pressed against my back, ready to go.
”Ready?” I asked.
”Mm!” Suu-chan replied.
We pushed off. The slide was well-maintained and fast. (The speed was terrifying, but getting stuck would have been embarrassing, so I just braced myself.) With Suu-chan’s excited squeals in my ear, we hit the bottom in a blur. I barely had time to scramble out of the way before Shiho-chan came flying down the same lane.
”Ma-kun, again!” Suu-chan cried.
”Shiho too~!” Shiho-chan added.
”Sir, yes, sir!” I replied.
Suu-chan grabbed my hand and dragged me back toward the stairs. (I guess this is my bravery training for the day.)
Once we’d had our fill of the slide and the monkey bars, we spent an hour playing until it was time to wash the sand off our feet and head in for the highlight: snack time. A Hospital Doctor beckoned us over with a grin. On each of our paper plates sat two golden-brown, fried potato-and-cheese dumplings. Suu-chan and Shiho-chan were vibrating with anticipation, but we had to wait for everyone to be served. (Seeing them poke at the dumplings with their fingers was a test of patience, but hey, they’re kids.)
”””Let’s eat!”””
They dove in the second the word was out. (Good on them for holding out that long. I could probably delay our turn to avoid the wait, but learning to sit still is part of the growing up process.)
”How is it?” I asked.
”Mm!” Suu-chan chirped.
”So good!” Shiho-chan said.
The wait clearly made them taste better. I took a bite of mine. The flavor was soft and comforting-creamy potato with a hint of salty cheese. We polished them off in seconds. The girls looked like they wanted seconds, but I knew if they ate any more, they’d ruin their appetites for dinner.
And so, another day at the kindergarten comes to a successful-wait, no. (It’s not over until I’m through the front door of my house. Can’t let my guard down yet.)
—
Summary:
The protagonist navigates a typical afternoon at his specialized kindergarten, involving lunch, a shared nap, and playground activities. He maintains a mature internal monologue while acting out the role of a toddler alongside his peers, Suu-chan and Shiho-chan. The chapter highlights his struggle to balance adult logic with a child’s physical and social constraints.
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Trivia:
- The protagonist is ambidextrous, a skill he practiced during his ‘abundant’ free time.
- The kindergarten has its own kitchen, which is notable for Japanese preschools.
- The term ‘Hospital Doctor’ is used by children to refer to the adult staff.
- The protagonist has a specific trauma regarding heights linked to a character named Mitsuhisa
—
Character Insight:
The protagonist shows a protective and observant nature toward the girls, particularly Suu-chan. Despite his adult mind, he is susceptible to ‘forced system shutdowns’ (naps), showing the body’s physical needs override his mental age.
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Behind the Scenes:
The ‘white bipedal kitten’ is a clear reference to Sanrio’s Hello Kitty, a staple of Japanese character culture.
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TL Notes:
Notes:
• Shiho – A three-year-old girl in the Rose Class, friend of Makoto and Suu, with shoulder-length hair in a side-up ponytail; soft-spoken yet easily excited by decorations and food, she uses training chopsticks and a white kitten-themed placemat, struggles to wake up, and relies on Makoto’s “secret” advice. She attends extended childcare monthly and shares a quiet, competitive bond with Suu over Makoto’s attention, having been his first kindergarten friend.
• Mio – 28‑year‑old mother of Su‑chan, wife of Mitsuhisa, 164 cm, 57 kg, baby face, G‑cup, gentle rounded elegance; wears gray casual suit and skirt, prominent chest. Teacher, skilled cook and photographer who bakes professional strawberry shortcake and chirashi‑zushi, loves babysitting Ma‑kun and pushes his marriage with Su‑chan. Exceptionally beautiful but avoids crowds.
• Yuna – Hitomi’s daughter, a nearly two‑year‑old (92 cm, 13 kg) childhood friend who lives next door, is currently in a no‑no phase and experiencing baby regression. She is enrolled in a three‑year preschool program at Sannen Hoiku nursery and is one grade below Makoto.
• Mitsuhisa – Tall, handsome, 184 cm, 71 kg, slick‑back hair, deep voice, 33‑year‑old IT specialist and Totsuka family breadwinner. Doting husband of Mio, father of Su‑chan (Suzuka), reserved with Akari, meticulous in grooming, often scowls, family photographer with pricey DSLR and tripod, close to Makoto. In flashback he gave the protagonist “high‑highs” that caused distress; takes paid leave to decorate and prep the car for a Golden Week trip to his parents.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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