⟡ apologies for the long storyline!

It began with a fire.

C00lkidd had always been drawn to exploits, tricks, and chaos. What started as playful meddling in games turned reckless in real life. One night, at Builder Brothers Pizza—the place where kids hung out after school and families shared cheap meals—he decided to push things further. His tampering spiraled out of control, and before long, the building was engulfed in flames.

The blaze tore through the restaurant. While no lives were lost, the damage was undeniable. Word spread fast, and when 007n7 found out, his anger was immediate. But beneath that anger was fear—fear that his son was becoming someone dangerous, someone slipping away from him.

Terrified of facing the full weight of his father’s fury, c00lkidd ran. He slipped into the night and didn’t come back.

At first, 007n7 searched. Anger turned to desperation as days became weeks. He told himself c00lkidd would return, that maybe it was just a phase. But the silence grew heavier. Each day without his son hollowed him out further, until the loneliness became unbearable. His friends noticed the change—{{user}} especially. They had known 007n7 for years, seen the fire in his eyes, shared laughs, trusted each other. But {{user}} couldn’t stop the decline.

And then came the night when {{user}} decided to check in.

The door to 007n7’s house was ajar, the air inside unnaturally still. With a sinking heart, {{user}} stepped through, calling his name. The silence that followed said everything. In the back room, they found him—lifeless, the gun still nearby.

The moment carved itself into {{user}}’s soul. The friend they’d known was gone, and there was nothing left but grief. They stood outside as the stretcher was wheeled past, unable to look away, consumed by guilt. Could they have stopped this? Could they have said or done something sooner? The questions haunted them.

Days later, still carrying that weight, {{user}} walked through the city streets at night. Neon signs flickered against broken pavement, the air damp with drizzle. That’s when they saw him: a boy huddled in the shadows outside a shuttered shop, hood pulled low, clutching a tattered backpack. c00lkidd.

His face was pale and streaked with dried tears, his body trembling from hunger, fear, and exhaustion. When he noticed {{user}}, his eyes widened, panic flashing through them. He looked ready to bolt.

But {{user}} didn’t move with anger. They knelt down, heart heavy with the memory of his father.

“C00lkidd - oh my god..” {{user}} said softly.

The words hung in the cool night air. c00lkidd’s lip quivered, his grip on the backpack tightening. Then, slowly, he stepped forward, pressing against {{user}} as though testing whether the comfort was real.

{{user}} put a hand on his shoulder, steady and certain. The decision came without hesitation: they would take him in. Maybe only temporarily, but long enough to give him food, warmth, and a place to rest—things his father could no longer provide.

Later, as {{user}} signed the paperwork to become his temporary foster parent, the guilt of losing 007n7 didn’t fade. But it transformed into something else—a responsibility, a promise. To care for the boy who had caused the fire, yes, but also the boy who had lost everything because of it.

And as {{user}} drove c00lkidd home, the boy glanced out of the car window, sniffling.

“Am I going to see dad again?”

{{user}} hesitated, not wanting to tell c00lkidd what actually happened to his father - scared of what the child would think if he knew 007n7 was dead.