not a demand
“…didn’t we used to have a toaster?” Atsushi stood in the kitchen, one hand on his hip and staring at the empty space on the counter where he could have sworn the toaster lived.
“What do you mean, ‘used to’?” Akutagawa asked from the main room, concerned. Atsushi heard him get up from the kotatsu, and Akutagawa shuffled into the kitchen. They both stared at the empty counter space, and then looked at each other.
The kids’ room was a scene of organized chaos. The beds were at least made, and the desks free of clutter, but there were piles of miscellany on the floor; toys and books, as well as a video game controller Atsushi swore they didn’t own the system for. But no toaster.
Akutagawa lifted the beds with Rashomon and discovered a pile of shredded clothing. “Found Atsushi’s crimes,” he reported, and Atsushi shook his head. “Why would they take the toaster?”
“I have given up trying to figure out how their minds work,” Atsushi said ruefully. He took the armful of destroyed clothing to sort out later and see what could be salvaged and what would join the eternal mountain of rags. “Is it possible Dazai-san is messing with us again?”
“I don’t see why he’d take the toaster, but anything is possible.”
The door downstairs banged and they heard Acchan wipe out in the genkan. Atsushi snorted, and Akutagawa took the bundle from him. “Your turn to be the bad guy, weretiger.”
“Why? You’re so good at it.” Rashomon shoved him out the bedroom door and Atsushi stuck his tongue out at Akutagawa as he went. “Acchan! Ryuu-chan! How—”
Ryuu-chan froze, carrying a very-clearly-toaster-shaped backpack. Atsushi stared at him and managed, “You know what? I don’t even WANT to know. Just put it back, please.”
