Notice my absolute genius

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Y/n's pov

"You okay?" Someone asks.

"Yeah I'm fine," I say. "I'm not homeless or something."

"It's not safe to lie here at this time," she says.

"I could say the same to you," I say sitting up on the bench. "I could be a child abductor, do you want to get kidnapped?"

"Kidnappers don't sit on the bench and cry," she says. "Maybe I'm an adultnapper."

"But what is the likelihood that there would be two nappers in a park?" I ask. "One that's a crybaby and the other who is a literal baby seems like an odd duo."

"I am not a baby," she says.

"Um yes, you are," I say. "Now go off and find your mom."

(Yes I know this is like a small child but we are going to pretend like she can speak like a normal person because she's built different. And because I need it for the storyline)

"My mom's in hell," she says climbing onto the bench beside me.

Um... Yeah, I love god. You don't love god? What's wrong with you?

"Then go and find your dad or something," I say. "I don't like kids."

"My mom took him with her when she left," she says.

"Well... Where do you live?" I ask. "Around here? How old are you even?"

"Three," she says.

Mother fucker don't act three, I'll tell you that. And she's tall as fuck, well for her age anyway.

"Tell me your address so I can bring you home," I say. "You're too small to be out here all alone, you can get hurt. There are strangers out here, hell, I'm a stranger."

"I don't talk to strangers," she says.

"Well I guess not all kids can be smart," I shrug.

"You're not a stranger," she says crawling into my lap.

Vile.

"Get off, I'm smoking, do you want lung cancer?" I ask holding the cigarette away from her.

"Cigarettes make me sick," she says.

"This is why I hate children," I say putting out my cigarette and slipping it back into the pack. "I'm gonna let you get kidnapped, have you ever met a kidnapper? They are not too fun, I'll tell you that."

"Is this a weave?" she asks reaching for my head.

"Now it's not a weave," I say grabbing her wrist. "And don't ask people things like that."

"You're gonna break my bracelet shit head," she says pulling her wrist away.

Um, woah.

"I'm sorry," I say taking her hand in mine. "I'll make sure it's not...Hey, that's my bracelet."

"Now it's not," she says pulling her hand close. "This is mine."

"Well I know it's your now," I say. "But it was mine, and I gave it to some baby... Oh my god, are you that baby from that cafe?"

"I'm not a baby," she says. "And I'm cold."

"I mean three-ish years ago," I say wrapping my jacket around her and zipping her up in it with me. "Before I had another breakdown."

"Maybe you're the wrong one," she mumbles into my jacket.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I'm using my brain right now, and I think I just uncovered a plot that's spent three years brewing.

"Um... is your name Ito Kasumi? Mom Ito Ayumi, and dad..." I gulp. "Ito Haru."

"My name is not Ito Kasumi," she says.

Oh, thank god.

"It's Ushijima Kasumi," she says. "And I live at the children's home on peach street."

Fuck, this just got weird.

"And parents?" I ask.

"Ayumi and Haru," she laughs. "Silly, you just said it."

Fuck.

"We're taking you home right now," I say standing up with her still in my jacket. "And let's pray you are just talking out of your ass."


-_-

-Crouton

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