Takuto Kimura, now three years old, found himself ensconced in the plush, pastel-colored world of kindergarten—a far cry from the high-rise boardrooms and corporate strategies he was accustomed to. The nap room, with its rows of tiny cots and the faint scent of baby powder, was a particular enigma. Today, however, it presented an opportunity he couldn't resist: the legendary Tyrannosaurus rex blanket. This blanket was the ultimate symbol of prestige and power within the kindergarten world. Its soft fabric, warm embrace, and most importantly, its majestic embroidered T-Rex logo had made it the most sought-after commodity. And Takuto, having been given a second chance at life—this time as a toddler—was determined to secure it.
Squatting in the corner, Takuto meticulously sketched a SWOT analysis on the back of a diaper packaging using crayons. His objective was clear: secure the coveted blanket. He analyzed the strengths (softness, warmth), weaknesses (limited availability), opportunities (potential alliances), and threats (competitive classmates). It was, to his mind, a simple transaction. A little negotiation, a little deal-making, and the Tyrannosaurus rex blanket would be his.
His gaze remained fixed on the center of the room, where Takumi, the current custodian of the blanket, lay with a contented grin, clutching it as though it were a newborn. Takumi's finger, adorned with a jam-stained fingerprint, pointed curiously at Takuto's "strategic blueprint."
"What's little Takuto looking at?" Takumi asked innocently, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.
Caught off guard, Takuto swiftly flipped the diaper over, concealing his plans. "I'm studying... uh... a dinosaur care manual," he stammered, improvising on the spot. Of course, Takuto had no interest in dinosaurs—at least not until they became valuable assets in his grand design.
Takumi's eyes lit up with genuine interest. "Wow! Do you know how the T-Rex sounds?"
Without missing a beat, Takuto replied, "Of course, it's 'ROAR'—" His voice cracked mid-demonstration, ending in an unintentional "GAH!" The sound startled a nearby girl, causing her bottle to clatter to the floor. A ripple of laughter spread through the room, but Takuto barely noticed. In his mind, the strategy was already underway.
Seizing the moment while the teacher busied herself with organizing the beds, Takuto leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Listen," he began, "If you give me the blanket now, I'll return two cookies to you during snack time this afternoon." His offer was simple, but in Takuto's eyes, it was brilliant.
Takumi tilted his head, seemingly pondering the offer. "But I brought three today..."
Takuto's eyes narrowed with determination. "Then three! And I'll give you priority on tomorrow's juice selection!" There was no way Takuto was going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. He had already envisioned the world in which he owned the Tyrannosaurus rex blanket—power, comfort, respect. The blanket would be the cornerstone of his reign.
After a moment's hesitation, Takumi relented, his greedy little hands handing over the coveted item. Takuto wasted no time. He wrapped himself in its soft embrace like a sushi roll, reveling in the plushness and warmth. The soft fleece wrapped around him like a hug from the universe itself. He felt invincible. This was it—his ultimate triumph.
But, as all great conquests often go, his victory was short-lived. The teacher, noticing the discrepancy, approached with a raised eyebrow. "Takuto, why are you using two blankets? Where's Takumi's?" she asked, clearly perplexed.
Thinking quickly, Takuto replied, "This... is resource sharing! I'm warming his blanket for him!" His voice was calm, collected, and, above all, convincing. He was a master negotiator. He smiled serenely, hoping that his "corporate logic" would pass the test.
The teacher smiled warmly, patting his head. "What a good boy! Then why don't you warm little Ai's blanket too?" She handed him the cold Hello Kitty blanket.
Takuto's mind raced as he took the blanket. He had not planned for this. But a true businessman adapted to his environment. "Of course, Teacher Yamada! I'm building a cooperative economy here. Everyone deserves warmth!" he replied, though he was already plotting his next move. This situation was getting more complex than anticipated, but he was not one to back down from a challenge.
Before the nap bell rang, Takuto had already devised Plan B. He gathered all the spare blankets in the room and began stacking them in the corner to create a "temporary storage center." He then began offering them to his classmates, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Want a blanket? Trade it for your fruit after nap." He even considered offering a loyalty program, but he wasn't sure how much fruit he could procure to sustain such a scheme.
Just as he was about to draft a price list, he felt a presence behind him. Turning, he saw Teacher Yamada, hands on hips, standing beside the now-empty blanket storage box. Her expression was a mixture of disbelief and impending doom. Takuto's heart skipped a beat.
"Takuto..." Her smile was all too reminiscent of the HR director from his past life. "Could you explain what this new game is?" She asked, her voice calm but with a stern edge.
Takuto, ever the problem-solver, thought quickly. "This is... uh... a supply chain management practice session!" he said, his voice growing in confidence. "I'm teaching my classmates about efficient blanket distribution and resource management."
Teacher Yamada raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but also impressed by Takuto's audacity. "Supply chain management, huh? Well, it's clear to me that your supply chain has collapsed, and your classmates' blankets are no longer being distributed efficiently. You'll be standing in front of the class explaining this 'game' if you keep up these shenanigans."
In the end, Takuto found himself standing in front of the entire class, returning each blanket with the chant, "Sharing is the happiest~" as though he were an overzealous motivational speaker. His peers looked on with varying degrees of amusement and confusion. Some seemed to be calculating the potential value of each blanket in their own emerging economies, while others simply enjoyed the chaos Takuto had created.
Finally, after assisting ten classmates with their shoes, Takuto was able to reclaim the Tyrannosaurus rex blanket. He had earned it back, though the path to ownership had been far more convoluted than he had anticipated. He buried his face in the soft fleece, savoring the moment. "This is the joy of a successful acquisition..." he murmured to himself, content in the warmth of his triumph.
Just then, a familiar pressure built up in his bladder. The warmth he felt was no longer just from the blanket. A sinking feeling gripped him. No—he wasn't ready to part with the blanket yet. Five more minutes. He could hold on for five more minutes.
But disaster struck. As the warmth spread through him, he looked down at the Tyrannosaurus pattern, which slowly began to float up in an ominous, bloated fashion. The sight reminded him of the flood that had destroyed his factory in Thailand in his previous life, a disaster that had resulted in the loss of millions. He felt a wave of dread flood over him.
"No—" he mentally screamed. "My credit rating! It's going down!" His internal panic grew exponentially as he realized what was happening.
Caught in the act, Takuto sprang into crisis mode:
Diverting focus: "Teacher! Takumi hid the cookies!" (In reality, they were the ones he had bribed earlier.)
Finding a scapegoat: Takuto pointed to Ai's stuffed bunny, "It was the bunny! It did it!" he shouted, trying to shift the blame.
Destroying evidence: In a panic, Takuto pressed his body down on the wet area of the blanket, resulting in the Tyrannosaurus pattern being imprinted onto his belly. It was a truly unfortunate turn of events, but he wasn't going to let it ruin his reputation. He'd handle this crisis like any CEO would—with style, grace, and a little bit of luck.
When the teacher lifted the blanket, the room erupted with calls of, "It stinks~!"
Thinking quickly, Takuto suddenly pointed out the window and shouted, "Look! UFO!" His voice cracked on the last word, but the distraction worked. Everyone's attention shifted outside, and as they looked away, Takuto grabbed the wet blanket and tried to throw it out the window. However, in his haste, he miscalculated the trajectory and flung himself out instead. Hanging precariously from the windowsill, the last thing Takuto saw was a row of his classmates, each holding their phones aloft, recording his fall from grace for posterity.
At that moment, Takuto realized that perhaps, just perhaps, this wouldn't be his finest hour. But as always, he would rise again—this was just a minor setback in the grand plan. The world, after all, would always need a CEO.