Accidentally become a father-Chapter 2: A birth certificate
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And I took it.
The plastic folder was thin.
High quality.
There was a brand logo in the bottom right corner.
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I figured this kid didn’t come from an ordinary family.
I opened it.
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Official paper. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢
Stiff.
Thick.
Bearing a government seal at the top.
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I recognized the format immediately.
A birth certificate.
Her name was written clearly.
Yuna.
Date of birth: nine years ago.
Place of birth: Tokyo.
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Mother’s name.
I hadn’t looked at that part yet.
My eyes stopped at the father’s column.
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Nishida Itsuki.
The exact same kanji.
Not a single stroke out of place.
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I reread it slowly.
Nishida.
Itsuki.
I looked up.
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She was sitting cross-legged now.
Hands resting on her knees.
Back completely straight.
An innocent expression that was far too composed.
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"It’s official," she said.
I ignored her.
A few seconds later.
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"There are a lot of similar names out there."
"There are."
"And a lot of Nishidas."
"Yes, I know."
"And a lot of Itsukis."
"...True... and?"
"So it’s highly likely this isn’t me."
She tilted her head slightly.
Leaning forward.
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"But the address is correct."
I hadn’t turned to the back page.
I lowered my gaze again.
The official seal.
The signature...
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My signature?
Since when was that here?
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I looked closer.
Every stroke.
It all looked authentic.
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Not a cheap imitation.
Nor a crude forgery.
If this was a fake, the person who made it wasn’t an amateur.
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I let out a soft exhale.
"You know, forging documents is a criminal offense."
"I didn’t forge it."
"Do you know what ’criminal offense’ means?"
"I know."
I stared at her.
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She wasn’t the least bit anxious.
Nine-year-olds usually aren’t this calm when they’re lying.
I closed the folder slowly.
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"If you’ve got the wrong person, what are you going to do?"
She gave a small shrug.
"Then that means Papa is a bad person."
I stared at her for a few seconds.
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"That is terrible logic."
She fell silent.
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I opened the folder again.
The mother’s name was finally visible near the top.
Kanzaki Sayaka.
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My hands stopped for a fraction of a second.
I hadn’t reacted.
Not yet.
That name wasn’t common.
Too specific.
Too well-known.
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I closed the folder again before my thoughts could wander too far.
"Alright," I said quietly.
"Let’s assume this is real."
"It is real."
"Let’s assume," I repeated.
She didn’t argue this time.
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I placed the document on the table between us.
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"If this is true," I said,
"when exactly did I do something this major?"
She smiled slightly.
"That’s something Papa should remember."
I had no doubts.
I didn’t remember ever doing it.
Not even once in my entire life.
I never had.
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I stared at her.
She stared back without blinking.
The room fell silent again.
I tapped the paper lightly with my fingertip.
For quite a while.
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"Do you have any other proof?"
She immediately reached for her backpack again.
Without rushing.
Without panicking.
As if she had been waiting for that very question.
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Her hand disappeared into the bag.
Then she pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.
She didn’t hand it over right away.
Just holding it in the air for a moment.
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"This too," she said.
I stared at the paper.
"Papa’s address."
She smiled.
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I hadn’t taken the paper yet.
My hand paused mid-air.
If the address was right, this wasn’t a coincidence.
If the address was right—
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I finally took the paper.
And opened it.
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