Title: Bundle of Fate

Challenge/Prompt: Written for the 100 Prompts - 100 Stories challenge (#6, puppy).

Rating: G/K

Word Count: About 700

Characters/Pairings: Seragaki Aoba, Ren, and Baa-chan

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is in no way connected to the DMMD project, the anime, DMMD re:connect, or any other such thing. This was created purely for the fun of it. No money is changing hands.

Warning(s): No spoilers, really. This is set pre-canon.

It hadn't really been much of a rainy day, unlike cliched manga he'd seen while lurking within bookstores. No, it was rather a mixture of dark, bright, and cheery, at that; the sun was slowly setting, on the cusp of dusk and evening, the moon shining bright within the sky.

No, it hadn't been a particularly bad day.

And he'd been just a boy, then, at the time. He hadn't really known, had any sort of idea, what would occur in the next few years, let alone held a comprehensive understanding that there was more to life than just attending school, and then going home at the end of the day. And by then, Koujaku, his childhood best friend, had already left Midorijima, leaving behind a lonely, aqua-haired boy with sensitive hair.

It was probably the best reason he could give, at the time, as to why he had taken the dirty, old Allmate, despite having had no interest in one before, whatsoever. Or maybe it a single suggestion at the back of his mind, that had caused him to take notice of the large, fluffy bundle of fur on the street corner, and take it with him. In either case, he had made the decision to allow curiosity to guide his interest and feet, and stooped down only seconds later, poking gently at the soft, dark fur. Turning the bundle of fluff over carefully, he was met with the visage of an adorable Allmate, this one of a dog. And unlike many of the other ones he'd seen before on television, following their owners faithfully, or in windows of popular tech stores that specialized in the product, this one was a Japanese spitz with a pink tongue sticking out of its mouth. If Aoba had been a girl, he'd probably be cooing over the soft, sweet face.

Shifting around carefully on his feet, straining his calves slightly, Aoba tipped his head back and stared back at the sky. The sun was still bright, though the sky's color had changed, a pinkish hue overtaking it. Should he take it, or should he not?

After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, Aoba finally glanced back at the Allmate and sighed, cradling it to his chest carefully.

Standing up, bookbag balanced precariously over a single shoulder, he spun and ran down the sidewalk, heading towards his grandmother's house. When he got there, she was nowhere to be seen. Sounds in the kitchen indicated that she was busy cooking dinner, though.

"I'm home!" he announced before taking off his shoes, startled at the excitement clear in his voice. He widened his eyes at himself briefly.

Apparently, his grandma had been surprised, as well.

"Welcome back," she called back. When Aoba stepped inside the kitchen, dumping his bookbag on the seat of nearby chair with a thump, she was stirring the soup with an air of precision and practice. After checking the meat baking in the oven with a glove-covered hand, and then subsequently lowering the temperature of the stove-top, she finally turned around.

"Where'd you get that from?" she questioned curiously, inching closer. She stopped in front of Aoba, head tilted to the side, hands on her hips.

"I found it outside, lying on the sidewalk," he answered carefully, expression somewhat blank. When he looked back down at the fluffy puppy in his arms, he noticeably softened slightly.

When he glanced back up at his grandma, she was studying him. He grew nervous at being subjected to such an inquisitive gaze, gulping in a slight panic.

"You can keep it," she said softly, uncharacteristically. Aoba smiled as bright as the sun he had observed earlier. "However, you must fix it up yourself, and then you must make sure you take care of it. We're not letting an Allmate in the house, just for you to neglect it."

Aoba bobbed his head determinedly.

"We'll stop at a store this weekend to buy some tools. Now, dinner is almost ready," she raised her voice noticeably higher, in her normal, stern tone. "Go wash up."

And unbeknownst to the both of them, that decision was the true start of Aoba's life.

Author's Note:

I wasn't really sure how to go about portraying Aoba at such a young age. Hell, I don't even remember (if they told us at all), how old he was when Koujaku had left the island with his mother. Hopefully, this fits into some people's head!canons?

Please do leave a review :3

It seems I'm making a habit of posting these DRAMAtical Murder ficlets/one-shots at 1 AM, too. XDD