Takuto Kimura, a self-proclaimed genius of logistics and strategic brilliance, crouched at the edge of the sandbox, the sun casting a merciless spotlight on his furrowed brow. He was so absorbed in his "logistics strategy" that he hadn't noticed the sweat streaming down his face, threatening to dive straight into his meticulously drawn map. Takuto took a deep breath and muttered under his breath, "The straight-line distance from the sandbox to the swing area is only 15 meters, but the kids have to detour around the climbing frame. Inefficient, terribly inefficient." He paused, his twig tapping the ground as if pondering the meaning of life itself. "Ah, but that's it! This is the blue ocean market!"
Of course, his grand revelation was interrupted when the bead of sweat he'd been trying to avoid finally dropped, splashing right onto the "Profit Forecast" section of his map. Takuto stared at the ruined data, horrified. "Even my sweat glands are shorting my project…" he groaned.
As the classroom settled into the quiet calm of nap time (which Takuto personally believed was a luxury that could have been better utilized for market research or business development), he built his headquarters. Using three nap mats and some toy blocks, he constructed what he called "Little Bee Logistics' Headquarters." It looked less like an office and more like a kid had been given a giant set of blocks and told, "Build something!" But to Takuto, it was the symbol of his ambitions. With great pride, he began his roadshow.
Takuto sat in the corner of the "office," his arms crossed confidently. "CEO" Takuto kicked things off, "Our core competencies are threefold. First, Kenta's violent transportation abilities—"
Kenta, who had been casually tossing toys into the air while half-listening, suddenly perked up. "Violent? Do you mean I'm really good at throwing things?"
Takuto, blinking with some confusion, nodded. "Exactly. You throw things with unparalleled force."
Kenta's eyes sparkled. "I like this plan."
"Second," Takuto continued, "Ai-chan's cute trickery to get by." He gestured at Ai-chan, who was busy drawing hearts on the nap mat with her finger, possibly designing her future stock options or planning a new line of adorable accessories for their logistics company.
Ai-chan looked up with wide, innocent eyes. "What's trickery?"
Takuto hesitated but continued. "Third, my strategic mind."
He nearly choked on his words as his tongue involuntarily got in the way. "S-S-Strategic mind," he stuttered, wincing at his own lack of eloquence.
Kenta, unimpressed, looked at him. "Do we get lunch?"
Ai-chan, not missing a beat, chimed in: "Can we pay with candy?"
After a brief (but intense) round of negotiations (which involved Takuto handing over his lunch pudding, and a long debate over whether the pudding was "minty enough" to be considered currency), "Little Bee Logistics" was officially founded.
The shareholding structure was quickly hammered out, with Takuto taking a 51% majority share (in exchange for three stickers), Kenta snagging 30% (for not reporting Takuto's attempt to smuggle sand out of the sandbox), and Ai-chan taking the remaining 19% (which included a generous 2% stock option, pending tomorrow's strawberry milk transaction).
Their first client was Taro, a perpetually sniffling boy whose nose seemed to be an unshakable faucet of mucus. Taro had hired "Little Bee Logistics" to transport a bucket of sand from the sandbox to the swing area—a job that would surely put their new company's skills to the test.
Takuto, determined to show the world the power of his logistics genius, personally oversaw the operation. "This is a multi-modal transport plan," he announced. "It's brilliant!"
The sand bucket would be placed on a toy truck, and Kenta would transport it.
It would pass through the seesaw transfer station, where Ai-chan would handle customer relations.
Finally, it would reach the swing area, where Takuto would oversee the delivery.
Of course, things didn't go according to plan.
Kenta, after a brief consultation with his stomach, decided the simplest method was to place the bucket directly on Taro's head. "This is the easiest way!" he declared, shoving the bucket onto Taro's scalp like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Ai-chan, meanwhile, took a more "creative" approach. She used the sand to create "manicures" for all the girls in the class, proudly displaying her handiwork as she patted the girls' hands, each adorned with a fine coating of sandbox glitter.
Takuto, caught in the middle, realized that his role of "supervisor" was just a euphemism for being used as a human shield when Taro exploded in outrage. The once-beautiful sand was now clinging to every inch of Taro's body, turning him into a walking sand sculpture, while Ai-chan gleefully offered her services to anyone who would pay her in imaginary currency.
The chaos reached its peak when Teacher Yamada appeared at the scene. Her eyes widened at the sight: Taro, now a human sandcastle; Ai-chan holding up her "latest sand grain manicure" like it was an art exhibit; and Takuto, trapped behind Kenta's towering form, his butt half-exposed, desperately trying to escape the wrath of a sand-drenched Taro.
The teacher sighed, lifting Takuto by his suspenders, a feat that made Takuto feel like a rag doll.
"Hm," Teacher Yamada said flatly. "Is this your 'logistics company'?"
Takuto kicked his legs in the air. "Teacher, strictly speaking," he stammered, "this is... uh... stress testing."
Teacher Yamada, who had long given up on the idea of childhood innocence, raised an eyebrow. "Stress testing? This looks more like an elaborate plan to ruin my afternoon."
Determined to improve efficiency, Takuto decided to get creative. He secretly disassembled the classroom's remote-controlled car and began the long journey of converting it into an "automatic transportation device." Naturally, nothing could go wrong. Right?
The truck immediately knocked over a milk bottle, creating what could only be described as a "white stock market crash." Milk splashed everywhere, creating an all-too-accurate metaphor for Takuto's dwindling financial situation. In the midst of his failure, Takuto's heart sank as the car skidded out of control and splattered sand directly onto the principal's face.
Finally, the truck got stuck in front of the doghouse, spinning its wheels and creating a sandstorm. The security guard, arriving on the scene to see the absolute mess, shook his head in disbelief. "You're too crazy. This is the wildest autonomous driving technology I've ever seen."
Takuto, standing amidst the chaos, had a sudden epiphany: "It's not that I'm lacking a business model... I'm lacking a competent and capable engineering team."
But when Teacher Yamada asked to review the company's finances, Takuto handed over his "financial statements" made entirely out of modeling clay.
The "assets" section consisted of a golden clay piggy bank, which Takuto had "invested" heavily in. "Total assets: a golden clay piggy bank," he explained with a confident grin.
The "liabilities" section was a green clay IOU. "Total liabilities: a green clay IOU," he said proudly, gesturing toward the clay piece with a flourish.
And the "profits"? Takuto pointed to a red clay heart. "Total profit: a red clay heart," he said with dramatic flair. "Because love generates electricity!"
Teacher Yamada squinted at the "accounts payable" section, noticing small bite marks in the clay. "What's this?" she asked, pointing.
Takuto chuckled awkwardly, trying to brush off the situation. "Ahahaha... Teacher, this is... Kenta's audit signature!"
From the corner of the room, Kenta suddenly shouted, "Liar! He made me taste the accounting book to see if it was good!"
It was at that very moment that the principal made his grand announcement: "From today onward, nap time will be extended by half an hour."
This, of course, was the most devastating blow to Takuto's business venture.
Kenta would faint at the mere mention of nap.
Ai-chan needed her beauty sleep.
And Takuto? Well, he was officially convinced that his infantile version of a mid-life crisis had just arrived.
As he lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, Takuto wrote with his saliva on the sheets: "When physical needs (sleep) meet business needs (making money), the former always wins."
It was a grim, yet strangely profound, conclusion to his brief stint as a CEO.