𝚄𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚊 • 𝙳𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚊 || Saiki Kusuo

• #!!@□( •

In this modern era, I couldn't help but wonder how many still puts an effort into writing the events in their mundane lives -- keeping a diary per se. Your author here can confirm that she knows of one who does -- coming across a certain black leather notebook and laughing at the sappy scribbles my friend would uncharacteristically write like some teenaged girl.

As depressing it was that a boy has a much more maidenly heart than I do, I still got to poke fun out of it. But, ended up confessing my crimes upon being swallowed by guilt. Damn you, conscience.

Well, I may be a hypocrite since I do recall writing at least five full notebooks of my daily adventures as an elementary pupil. Upon finding it after a couple of years however, let us just say that I initiated a bon fire that day as I got myself questioning who that brat was. Burn your shame -- that was the start of one of my mottos.

I finally got the guts to confess to #&!!∑(□@.

Soles meeting the paved ground, Kusuo takes slow steps on his solo journey back home. Finding the one-liner, the pink-haired boy cannot help but scrunch up his eyebrows from puzzlement, skimming over the words over and over with his magenta hues.

Was I in a relationship? The boy questions himself for the umpteenth time of day. No matter how much he dives in the archives of his memories, the young psychic still surfaces up without a catch.

Breathing out a sigh, Kusuo halts his steps, leaning his back on the plastered surface of the wall to stretch his arms upwards with the notebook still in his grip. Eyes still lingering at that one sentence, the strawberry haired boy tilts his chin up to gaze nully at the page. As he bore his bland stare at the item, stupidly hoping that the action would give him benefit, a note fell out from between the pages of the picture diary.

Cocking an eyebrow, the strawberry haired male catches the fluttering note before it reaches the ground. Upon flipping the article of paper, he finds one simple word scribbled messily on the sheet, a thousand yen bill stapled with it.

Thanks

Just who does something so cliche? He questioned mentally before shoving the newly found paper inside the pocket of his pants. Before removing his hands from the confines of his pocket, Kusuo allows himself to graze on the paper with an uncovered finger, using his psychometry on the object.

As blurred and muddled images entered his mind, the young psychic was once again met with dissapointment. Heaving out a sharp exhale, the strawberry haired boy moves on to continue his stroll home, flipping the notebook open once more to proceed on the next pages.

Kaa-san and Tou-san finally knows about my relationship with #&!!∑(□@. I would have honestly preferred to announce so over a formal dinner.

~~~~~

Multiple pairs of eyes watched the (h/c) haired girl chasing around a toddler around the front yard of the (L/N) household, observing her laughing features as she tackled the two-year-old boy into a tight hug -- the child, giggling in response.

"You know, I met a five-year-old boy during my stay in PK." (Y/N) spoke, lifting the child into her arms. "You two could have been great friends, Kazuki! Oh, and I have pet chicken too!"

"Chicken!" The young boy with similar locks of (h/c) exclaimed, lifting up both his arms as his aunt spun the both of them around like a jubilant child, the sound of merry laughter filling the ears of the residents.

"I should really let Kusuo meet you. Let's annoy the shit out of him together." (Y/N) grinned, plopping down on one of the seats in the well-tended lawn of the (L/N) household. "There's also Aren, and Nendou and Kaidou as well. And, my feathered bundle of joy, Fredric!"