There, on the grass, lay an still - scarily so - body, small and swaddled up in oversized clothes. From his position a couple meters away, Kaito couldn't see what the person looked like. He glanced around nervously, wondering what he should do in this situation.
The body suddenly gave a small twitch and a pained mewl, and Kaito instinctively hurried over, kneeling on the slightly damp carpet of grass. With a tentatively shaking hand, he reaching out and pulled back the folds of the green jacket that obscured the child's face. His eyebrows went up. The child, a young boy, probably around six or seven, was startlingly... er...
Oh God, Kaito thought despairingly. Am I a pedophile?
Still, he leaned down to examine the boy more carefully, absently picking him up. The large, childish face shone underneath a blanket of sweat, and though the face was relaxed in unconsciousness, the eyebrows had a subtle, upward slant, betraying some modicum of pain. Kaito suddenly realized that his left hand, which had been supporting the underside of the child's head, was coated in blood, the result of a newly-inflicted head wound.
What the hell am I supposed to do? Kaito wondered, feeling some panic starting to attack him. The kid would bleed out for a while if Kaito didn't do anything. He could take him to the security guards, but it might lead to some very awkward questions. And though he'd deny it, he didn't want to let go of the kid yet.
Kaito swallowed, looking down at the almost serene boy passed out in his arms. He would have to take care of the kid.
I have been informed that these are not drabbles, as drabbles apparently are exactly 100 words and these are longer. Thus, Semantics shall be rechristened a ficlet series. Happy?
Anyway, you've got to hand it to me! I've a consistent updater for... three days. T_T