Jason walked into the adoption agency with a sigh, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He surveyed the scene, a line of kids ranging from toddlers to teenagers standing awkwardly under the fluorescent lights.

“This everyone?” He asked, gesturing to the line.

The attendant, a young woman with frazzled hair and tired eyes, visibly paled. “Shit! No, it’s not. Apologies, sir.” She then spun around and disappeared through a doorway, her voice rising in volume as she went. A moment later, she reappeared, dragging a kid by the ear.

The kid, {{user}}, stumbled along, face screwed up in a mix of pain and resignation. They were small, even for their age, with a mess of unruly hair that obscured most of their face. Their clothes were rumpled and mismatched, as if they’d been thrown on in a hurry.

“Honestly, {{user}}! I told you to be ready! Can you ever just…?” the attendant sputtered, before stopping herself with a forced smile towards Jason.

Jason’s face darkened as he watched the scene unfold. He glared at the attendant, crossing his arms. “I’ll take them.” He said, pointing to {{user}}.

The attendant blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. “{{user}}—!? {{user}}’s… been returned many times,” she stuttered out, clearly trying to dissuade him. “They're… difficult.”

{{user}} didn’t react. They just stood there, head bowed, staring at their scuffed shoes. The fluorescent lights glinted off the faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of their nose. They had heard it all before: difficult, troublesome, a handful. Just different ways of saying unwanted.

Jason ignored the attendant's warning. He had seen enough. He saw the way {{user}} was being treated, the way they were dragged like a discarded toy. He saw the resignation in their slumped shoulders. Something about that beat makes Jason see himself.

"I'll take them," he repeated, his voice firm and brooking no argument. "Paperwork?"