Well, you just became a hypocrite.

The one person that always said "I'll never get a bitty, that's so dumb, psh." is now here, outside the plaza in the chilly Autumn night. You came here for pizza, but after eating said pizza and feeling lonely while doing it, you stared down the center while feeling the conflict of two very large emotions.

Dignity, and Omigosh they have little furniture must pet-.

It was no wonder that dignity would give out, being crushed by the omnipotent desire to pet cute things. But then again, dignity was always the first thing to walk the plank in an emotional conflict. Dammit, paper-thin self esteem.

You got out of your car to look at the place a bit closer. It was nice, colorful, warm and oddly nice. No, you weren't going to go in. You knew that once you went to this particular plaza you would be tempted to go inside, but this wasn't just a fight for your dignity. This was a fight for your independence. You work at home, and all that alone time could be used on someone that wasn't you. That... it sounds so terrible that you grin a bit at the thought. You don't want someone to talk to. You don't want any friends or anything.

You could just go back, stay alone and go home to eat caramel popcorn and watch reruns of trashy anime.

You'll get attached, Y/N. You know this. You'll want to pet, and then you'll black out and wake up at home with adoption papers and a bitty that could also talk to you and enjoy some hobbies, maybe do some arts and crafts together or try knitting again-

Yeah, you were really losing against the better hopeful part of you.

Combine being extremely sleep-deprived with having nobody to talk to except some not-so-close friends and family, while also adding a non-exhaustive list of unlucky streaks and bills to pay. That's right! You get the dysfunctional and childish adult that looks back at you in the mirror. You would say that it sucked to be you, but you wouldn't go that far.

Maybe when the internet bill comes back out. Then it'll be hell. Maybe you should go over on the minutes just to spite them... But that would just make things worse, wouldn't it? damn you, well-planned internet services... One day you'd shove those routers right up their...

You grumble a little but sigh.

Back on the subject...

You never knew why bitties were so popular lately. Was it the bright eyed skeletons or the colorful attitudes of the monsters? Was it the idea of caring for another sapient being? Was it the lamias? it's gotta be the lamias. Everyone doted on the blueberry bitties, the shy cherries, the yan-something -something or whatever (Yan.. uh.. insert Japanese term here?). And whatever else. Let's be honest, you were too tired for this. Here you were, outside the bitty adoption center, looking at the wide array of faces behind the glass and checking out each with their mini accommodations. Thankfully, it was a neat arrangement for the little creatures; not like some establishments that barely even treated them ethically.

But you knew, these weren't pets. These were little people, and it infuriated you to no end to see people treat them as such. So, why were you even coming in here again? Was it to check out the little guys? Was it to spend some time with them? You would get attached again. You always did. Why tempt yourself?

Despite your more hopeful thoughts, you were never thinking of buying a pet. You knew you wouldn't be a plastic happy-go-lucky caretaker. You wouldn't be able to be a smiling face all the time. Sure, you owned a cat or two before, but you don't have to put up a front with an animal. Bitties are like roommates, really. Really dependent roommates.

So when you got in, wincing at the sound of the loud doorbell's chime while an attendant walked over to you with a face so bright it could burn your eyes, you were so ready to get out and flee. Almost every bitty was excited, looking at you expectantly and with hope-filled eyes as they tried to get your attention.

You faced the attendant and told her that you would be looking around, not adopting. Her face turned slightly downcast before her perfectly-etched saleswoman mask came back and plastered itself on her face once more. "Sure thing! Feel free to look around, dear."

After a while, you weren't really connecting with any of the bitties. The 'Sans' bitties were WAY too lazy for your taste, and you didn't like how… piercing their gaze could be. Jeez, it was like they could look through you. You were looking for a possible friend, not a pantomath. Plus, for some reason you didn't want to get on their bad side.

The blues, on the other hand, were too energetic. Just like the cashier, really. Apparently, they were also really needy. You weren't really able to cope with emotionally needy people; it would stress you out too much and you wouldn't have the right mental state to care for them. You were sure that they'd be amazing to have around, but you wouldn't be able to be there as much as they'd need.

The reds were too grumpy, angsty and just plain cruel. One of them made a smart remark about your looks before you told it that your middle finger was bigger than its body. It remained speechless until it grumbled and flopped on a beanbag. Huh. They have a napoleon complex too, huh? You would leave that can of beans unopened, thanks.

The cherries cried too much. Though you had a few friends that cared for them, the constant crying would surely irritate you, no matter how sweet the poor things are. You wished all of them a nice home, really. Even the reds. Hmph.

You were about to leave, having seen all there was in the store. Good Y/N. You successfully managed to get out of a pet store without getting a bitty. Your dignity was strengthening with your self-restraint!

Until you saw him, that is.

He was the largest bitty in the store, trembling with tears beading in his eyes and a tight-fitting muzzle strapped around his skull. A small crack on his head could be seen from where you were standing. He wore a rather-ratty sweater that clung onto his thin bones and he held up something towards you; a little box with a ribbon messily tied around it. He put it towards the small gap in the cage where it would fit through. Was that for.. you?

"…Hello, little guy. Are you alright?" You asked warily. That muzzle has to hurt…

"..'f.. If y-you adopt me… T-these 're yours.. please don't leave me h-here..." His voice was so hushed and wobbly that it was a wonder why he hadn't burst out into tears right there. He wasn't like a cherry; this guy has been through a lot of hurting in his lifetime.

You walked over to the attendant with a darkened expression.

"I see you're curious about the… pure bite? Not a lot of people give these guys a chance, sadly enough." She mumbled.

"Why did you put a muzzle on him?" You stood a bit straighter looked at her, voice laced with just a tiny bit of accusation.

She looked at you sadly. "Unfortunately, it's a state-law that all pure bites in shelters must have a muzzle; for the safety of the people and for the caretakers. You're free to take it off in your house, but these little guys have a tendency to snap at others pretty often. Not really because they don't like you, but because it's a little reflex of theirs. By snap I mean bite, hence the name. Their teeth are also pretty sharp, so I hope you understand the need for a muzzle."

"I see." The pure bite lowered the box dejectedly, already heading to the back of the cramped looking cage as it wiped some tears away.

"If you're wondering, these guys are pretty hardy in the bitty department. They can eat a variety of foods, but protein-rich food is better for their health, so anything is good in moderation. This guy is about two years old, and hasn't exactly been in the best of households. He's been in and out for almost all of his life, and he's going to need a lot of TLC, as well as a steady home to take him in. He'll be put down in a few weeks if we can't find a good home for him, sadly enough."

"Put down?! I thought that bitty shelters didn't do that!" You hushed out a forced whisper while making sure that the poor baby didn't hear it. "The rights haven't been passed yet on whether bitties are truly sapient or dependant. Since they can't survive as independent beings, it makes it harder for the rights to be processed."

"That's bullshit..." You glanced at the bitties. All of them would really have a fair chance of getting adopted, really. They're small, cute, and they don't seem as emotionally worn as the other guy. Bitties could live long lives as long as they had things to live for. HoPe, was it? You looked back at the pure bite and felt your heart break. Who did this to the poor bitty? But there was something there. He still had hope that someone, anyone was going to adopt him and take him out of that smelly, small old cage.

He believed in you to be that person.

"I understand if you might not want to adopt on the first da-"

"I'll take him."

You'd be a soulless bastard if you left him rot here any longer. The little pragmatic side of you shut up; no shred of reason would make you leave this precious little guy here. So you said it.

Thankfully, the "OMG MUST SEE PET PET PET" side of you has won a justifiable battle. For once.

"I see- wait, for real?" She looked agape, but happy nonetheless. "I'm so happy that you decided to adopt him! Don't worry, he's an absolute sweetheart, he just needs to warm up to you, is all! Let me get the papers and you'll be good to go!"

She grabbed some adoption papers and files, then told you to sign here, here, here, oh don't forget there, and here too. Initial here, last name there please, you're doing good, just a billion more papers!

You needed some coffee. A gallon of coffee. No- A fucking VAT of coffee. Fuck you too, insomnia.

Finally, after signing a final paper you were finished. Most of it was papers that ensured you would be fined if you tried to harm him in any way, shape or form. Why someone hurt a bitty, you didn't want to know. There were some papers that showed vaccines, but you had no idea how you could vaccinate bone. As well as papers and certificates of ownership and all that jazz. She also handed you various manuals on how to care for bitties and purebites, which you put in your bag. Then you paid with the credit card that you prayed had enough money. With a few tense moments the card went through and you let out a stifled breath of relief.

She reached behind the counter and grabbed a set of keys, which let out a jingle that got every bitty's attention almost immediately. They looked at you with literal stars in their eyes as they looked attentively at the direction in which the attendant walked. Some of them gave up and went back to their own devices upon seeing that she wasn't heading towards them, while others looked at you sadly before doing their own thing. Those looks broke your heart, but you knew that you weren't going to be able to care for them properly. It would be careless and un-empathetic to take a person (no matter how little and adorable they may be) into your home without being fully prepared to handle them.

Sure, you might not be the most qualified person to care for this big guy, but hey; for him, it was either you or the unthinkable.

As sad as you were, you noticed that the pure bite didn't look up from it's spot, as if it was used to others being picked instead of him. Perhaps people were unnerved with the many warnings that came, or his muzzle being strapped on so tightly that you could see some light marks on the bone. As soon as you get home you're yeeting that thing the fuck out of the window.

Finally, she approached the Pure Bite's cell.

And she opened his cage.

Some bitties seemed happy for the low-spirited purebite, cheering for him and giving reassuring words to spur his confidence.

But...

when that bitty saw that his cage was open and he looked at you, you saw the eyes of a child who saw God.

So.. You didn't want a pet...

.

.

But you found a friend.