The late afternoon sun filtered through the crooked blinds of Aibat’s bedroom, casting long, lazy streaks of light across a chaotic landscape of comic books, action figures, and a desk buried under a landslide of half-finished math worksheets. At the center of this mess sat ten-year-old Aibat, a wiry kid with a mop of untamed black hair and a grin that screamed trouble. His pencil scratched furiously against a crumpled notebook, doodling a lopsided superhero with laser eyes. “Pew, pew!” he muttered under his breath, imagining his creation zapping villains into oblivion.
His gaze drifted to the small fishbowl on his nightstand, where his goldfish, Bubbles, glided in lazy loops. Aibat squinted, a sudden, wild idea sparking in his brain. “Hey, Bubbles,” he whispered, leaning closer, his brown eyes narrowing with exaggerated intensity. “Swim like you’re being chased by a shark. Go nuts!”
To his utter shock, Bubbles jolted into action, darting in frantic circles, fins flapping like the little fish had just seen Jaws. Aibat’s jaw dropped, a cackle bursting out of him. “No way! Did I just…?” He blinked, then stared harder, wishing for Bubbles to stop. The fish slowed instantly, resuming its bored drift. Aibat slapped his knee, giggling. “I’m a freakin’ wizard!”
His mind raced with possibilities. Bubbles was cool, but small potatoes. He needed a bigger test subject—someone who’d really prove he wasn’t just imagining things. And then, like a lightning bolt, it hit him. Lila. His nanny. The gorgeous, no-nonsense woman downstairs who’d been hired to wrangle him after school. She was tough, quick with a comeback, and had curves that even a clueless kid like Aibat couldn’t help but notice in a vague, curious way. If he could make *her* do something weird, this power was the real deal.
He crept out of his room, sneakers silent on the carpet, and peeked down the stairs. The clatter of dishes echoed from the kitchen, along with Lila’s humming—a low, sultry tune that made Aibat’s ears perk up. He tiptoed down, heart thumping with a mix of excitement and nerves, and poked his head around the corner.
Lila stood at the sink, her dark hair tied up in a messy bun, a tight white tank top clinging to her frame as she scrubbed a pan with fierce determination. Her denim shorts hugged her hips, and Aibat couldn’t help but stare for a second before shaking himself out of it. *Focus, wizard boy,* he thought. He cleared his throat, stepping into the kitchen with what he hoped was a casual swagger.
“Hey, Lila,” he chirped, hopping onto a stool at the counter. “Whatcha doing? Washing dishes again? Bo-ring.”
Lila didn’t even turn around, her voice dripping with mock exasperation. “Oh, look, it’s the little gremlin. What, you done turning your room into a disaster zone already? I’m not cleaning that up, by the way. And yes, I’m washing dishes because *someone* decided to eat cereal straight from the box and spill milk everywhere.”
Aibat grinned, unfazed. “That’s not spilling, that’s… artistic expression. You wouldn’t get it. Hey, wanna take a break? I’ve got a game we can play.”
She finally glanced over her shoulder, one perfectly arched brow raised. Her green eyes pinned him in place, sharp and knowing, like she could see right through his nonsense. “A game? Kid, the last time I played one of your ‘games,’ I ended up with glitter in my hair for a week. Hard pass.”
“Aw, c’mon,” he pressed, leaning forward, his voice taking on a sing-song tone. “This one’s different. It’s… magical. Bet I can make you do something crazy without even touching you.”
Lila snorted, turning back to the sink, her hands never pausing. “Oh, please. The only thing you’re making me do is roll my eyes so hard I see my own brain. Try harder, squirt.”
Aibat’s grin widened. *Perfect. Keep talking, Lila. I’ve got you now.* He locked his eyes on her, focusing with every ounce of willpower he could muster. In his mind, he pictured her suddenly dropping the sponge and busting out into a ridiculous dance—something goofy, like the chicken dance, right there in the kitchen. His stare intensified, unblinking, as he silently commanded, *Dance, Lila. Dance like a total dork.*
For a moment, nothing happened. Lila kept scrubbing, her shoulders relaxed, completely oblivious to the weird kid burning holes into her back with his gaze. Aibat’s confidence wavered. *C’mon, c’mon…* Then, out of nowhere, her hands stilled. She set the sponge down, her movements slow, almost mechanical. Aibat’s breath caught as she turned around, her expression blank for a split second—before her arms shot up, flapping awkwardly at her sides, and her hips started jerking in the most uncoordinated, hilarious attempt at a dance he’d ever seen.
Aibat bit his lip to keep from exploding with laughter, his eyes wide as saucers. Lila, meanwhile, blinked rapidly, her face morphing from confusion to outright bewilderment as her body kept moving against her will. “What the—? Why am I—? Oh, hell no!” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass, even as her legs did a weird little shuffle. “Aibat, what did you do? Did you slip something in my coffee, you little weirdo?”
He couldn’t hold it in anymore—a loud, snorting laugh erupted from him as he clutched the counter for support. “N-nothing! I swear! You just… you just decided to dance! Maybe you’ve got rhythm after all!”
Lila’s eyes narrowed, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and irritation, but her body finally stopped, arms dropping to her sides. She crossed them over her chest, stepping closer to him, her presence towering and commanding despite the lingering confusion in her gaze. “Listen here, gremlin,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, though a smirk tugged at her lips. “I don’t know what kind of trick you’re pulling, but if I catch you messing with me again, I’m tying you to your chair with duct tape until your mom gets home. Got it?”
Aibat nodded, still giggling, his mischievous gaze darting away from hers as he tried to play innocent. “Got it, got it. Geez, Lila, you’re scary when you’re mad. But, uh… nice moves. Ten out of ten.”
She rolled her eyes, swatting at him with a dish towel before turning back to the sink. “Get out of my kitchen before I make *you* dance, kid. Go… I dunno, read a comic or something.”
As Aibat hopped off the stool and scampered toward the stairs, his heart raced with giddy triumph. He’d done it. He’d actually made Lila dance like a total goof, and she had no clue how. This power—whatever it was—was real, and oh, the possibilities were endless. He glanced back one last time, catching Lila muttering to herself, “What the hell just happened?” as she rubbed her temples.
Aibat snickered under his breath, his mind already spinning with ideas for his next experiment. Lila might be tough, but he was just getting started.
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