Chapter Text
A baby on your doorstep is probably the very last thing you were expecting when you unlocked your front door.
The chime of your doorbell loudly rings throughout the walls of your home before silence fills the air again. Grabbing the remote, you pause the show you’re currently watching and reluctantly push yourself off of your comfortable couch, curious as to who could be at your door so late in the evening. Cautiously, you approach the entrance of your home and take a peek through the side window. Your eyes widen exponentially and you frantically yank the door open when you see what’s out there.
A clear plastic bin is placed perfectly in the center of your doormat. Inside the small container, you can make out a tuft of pink hair, belonging to a baby, swaddled by a fraying red blanket. A baby. On your doorstep. Wait. Despite your rising panic, you take a closer look at the child and realize something. You can make out the small extra set of ears peeking through the soft wispy strands of pink. Not a human baby: a cub.
Dread pools in your stomach as you begin to have an inkling as to why this child has been discarded at the entrance of your home.
Although hybrids weren’t scarce among the population, there was still a certain stigma surrounding them. It’s improved throughout the years, but humans are always afraid of what they consider to be different from themselves.
The baby must have been abandoned on your doorstep. You whip your head around, searching through the blanket of night for the person who dumped this baby in front of your home. The only thing that greets you is the sound of crickets chirping and the far-off noises of the city. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. You can hear the racing of your pulse in your ears as you look around once more, desperately hoping that you’ll find this child’s parents so you can give them back.
A soft sound diverts your attention away from your task. Startled, you look around until your eyes land on the plastic bin. The quiet gurgling came from the child.
A cool gust of wind rolls through and goosebumps erupt across your arms and legs. Shivering, you quickly realize that you need to get this child out of the cold as soon as possible, less you want them to freeze to death. (An actual possibility considering how small and vulnerable they are).
You gather your composure, just enough to swallow down your panic momentarily, and carefully grab the container. You slowly retreat back inside the warmth of your home; your movements are cautious as you attempt to not jostle the sleeping baby around. Gently placing the bin on your kitchen counter, a white label on the side of it catches your attention. Neatly scrawled on it is a name: Itadori Yuuji.
You peer inside the bin at the sleeping cub. Itadori Yuuji, huh?
Now that you’re back in the safety of your own home, panic seizes you once more. Your eyes dart around the room until they land on your cell phone, lying on the couch where you were sitting before your doorbell rang. You quickly walk over and snatch it up. With shaky hands, you dial the first person who comes to mind.
Although it’s late in the evening, it doesn’t take more than a few rings for him to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Nanami?”