Chapter Text
Kyoutani’s never had a desire for a hybrid. His pet tortoise keeps him company just fine, so why even bother?
Well, he wouldn’t even fucking be here if his stupid coach hadn’t interrupted the Sendai Frogs’ stupid practice to tell Kyoutani to chill out his stupid attitude. Kyoutani’s attitude isn’t even that bad; especially in comparison to his high school days. But apparently Division 2 V-league teams have back-up players lined up and ready to join at a moment’s notice, and with Kyoutani’s attitude rearing its gnarled head on-court, sponsorship offers have dwindled; so, the coach is hovering his finger over the metaphorical “you’re fired!” button, and Kyoutani knows he just might press it if the Frogs have any more unfavorable articles written about their number 16.
Tsukishima had suggested, snarkily, that Kyoutani get laid. Koganegawa had given less crude advice by telling Kyoutani he oughta get a pet to calm his anger (obviously, he’s unaware of Kyoutani’s tortoise). Another teammate, overhearing this, had suggested adopting a hybrid, saying “it might be better to have a companion who can talk”. Someone else suggested therapy, and everyone laughed, knowing that’d be the last thing Kyoutani would choose.
Kyoutani first considered getting a dog. He’s always loved dogs, and he had one growing up, so he knows how they work. But he’s not home enough to properly take care of one; he’s gone on tournament trips for days at a time, and he doesn’t want to have to board his dog every couple weeks. It’ll do more harm for the dog than anything, and in turn, it’ll hurt Kyoutani too to know he’s making his pet miserable. He could alternatively hire a dogsitter, but he doesn’t trust strangers, and his only friends are on the team with him and thus travel when he does.
Therefore, a dog (or any similarly dependent pet) is out of the picture. He’d thought dating might help (and maybe stupid Tsukishima is right and he does need to get laid), but he doesn’t have time to put himself out there, and he also doesn’t have the energy for dates. Plus, he’s an introvert at heart; he likes being alone and having his own time.
Begrudgingly, he had decided that a hybrid might be the way to go. They’ll be able to provide him with some company, yet they’re also independent and can feed and clean themselves when left alone for a while, and they can leave him to do his own thing when he needs time by himself.
And though he loves his tortoise, Shelly isn’t all that entertaining or affectionate.
…And, yeah, okay, maybe Kyoutani is a little touch-starved. It’s not his fault (well, it sort of is ) that no one wants to get physically close to him in fear he might lash out; heaven forbid would someone want to touch him.
So, here Kyoutani currently is, outside the window of a hybrid adoption center. The early fall air nips at his ears and his uncovered wrists; he shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his black sweatpants and steps inside the center.
He’d done a small amount of research on hybrids last night (he actually fell asleep with his computer on his lap), and he’d determined a dog or a cat hybrid might best suit his lifestyle. Luckily, this specific shelter has just received a grown-up litter of dog hybrids from a nearby farm.
When Kyoutani walks in, he overhears an employee talking someone’s ear off about the new hybrids. He listens in: apparently, a farm family’s female hybrid had gotten pregnant and given birth to a litter of four a long while back. The family had let the pups grow up into young adults before deciding to surrender them to a shelter, because they knew how people had a tendency to impulsively adopt puppy hybrids when they were young only to give them up when they got older. This family had wanted to ensure that the litter wouldn’t have that risk of abandonment.
Kyoutani can respect this decision, and it works in his favor, as he hadn’t wanted a baby hybrid anyway.
Finally, the opposite hitter takes a look through the huge display window. He sees four dog hybrids: a male with floppy black ears and a bushy tail, a female with one white and one black ear and a black-tipped tail, another male with upright white ears and a thinner tail, and a female in the far corner with large round ears and a brown nub tail and— hooves?
Just as he’s about to inquire about this non-dog hybrid, the other person pipes up:
“Wait, that one’s not a dog; is that a cow hybrid?”
The shelter employee looks bashful for a moment. “Ah, no, um… she’s a deer hybrid.”
“Why is a prey hybrid being displayed with predators?”
The employee looks increasingly more uncomfortable. “Well, you see… she’s kind of a unique case. The litter’s mother found her abandoned in a meadow and decided to adopt her as one of her own. When they tried to separate the two, the mother got… aggressive… so the family just agreed to let her raise the deer hybrid with her puppies. She isn’t sold or displayed with other prey hybrids because, well… she was raised by dogs, so she unfortunately acts like one. Other prey hybrids don’t get along with her, and people looking for prey hybrids immediately turn her down because of her odd mannerisms.”
The person laughs at the response. “What a little freak, huh? Poor ugly thing. It might never find an owner at that rate. I mean, who would want a dog hybrid imposter?”
Kyoutani bristles. How can someone say that about someone so innocent to their situation? How you were raised isn’t your fault.
Perhaps he’s feeling defensive because he too was a freak. Probably still is, if he’s being honest. It had hurt, at first, to be the odd one out that no one wanted to talk to or befriend. He’s since gotten used to it, but it doesn’t make him indifferent to such a circumstance.
He faintly hears the employee tell the man that the other female of the litter has already been adopted (which would explain why there’s only three dog hybrids and not four), but he tunes them out in favor of watching you through the glass.
You’re in the far corner and thus not too visible; it looks like you’re coloring, or maybe writing, or… sketching? Your large round ears are as tucked against your head as they can be, and they occasionally twitch when one of the wrestling dog hybrids makes a noise. You seem like you’re in your own little world. Your lack of rambunctiously playful energy (in contrast to your adopted dog siblings) intrigues him.
A different shelter employee walks into the display room, holding a bucket of treats. The dog hybrids immediately clamber over, sitting obediently at the man’s feet. You take notice and set your sketchbook aside, following suit and sitting a few feet away from your siblings.
The man says something to them; Kyoutani can’t really hear well through the wall of glass, but he assumes it was a command to “speak” since they all bark in tandem. Even you bark, and it’s an odd feat.
To Kyoutani’s right, the cruel man from earlier laughs again. “Oh man, did it just bark? This is golden! Maybe I should get it just to make YouTube memes!”
Rolling his eyes, Kyoutani huffs and keeps watching the display room. All the dog hybrids get a treat thrown to them.
His eyes sharpen to an angry glare when he watches the shelter employee leave without giving one to you.
You glance longingly at your dog siblings chowing down on their milk bones, taking a hesitant step forward towards them only to be growled at. You submissively lower your head and cower back to your corner, sitting with your back facing the glass. Your fluffy deer tail tucks between your legs.
Kyoutani isn’t a sentimental person, but he feels a pang of sympathy at the sight. He knows what it feels like to be ignored just because you make people uncomfortable.
His mind seems to make a decision before he’s even aware of it. He flags down an adoption center employee and tells them he wants to meet the deer hybrid. They seem shocked at first, but they don’t protest; rather, they awkwardly hand him some consent forms, which he skims and signs without a second thought.
There’s another room in the adoption center that’s just for potential owners to meet hybrids; Kyoutani read about it last night. Apparently, most shelters have these rooms. They usually have toys, treats, blankets, and the like. Things that would make a hybrid feel comfortable.
While he’s waiting, he’s given some papers about what to expect when meeting a hybrid. Luckily, he’s also given specific papers on what you’re like:
You’re quiet and very shy, and you don't trust too easily, which is an influence of your prey instincts. You’re pretty low energy, don't really need walks, but require free-roaming outside time. You like playing fetch and taking naps and you love being petted. You’re omnivorous (thanks to the influence of your human side) but don't have a strong preference for meat. You’re polyestrous but on heat cycle suppressants. You also have high anxiety levels and often hide or run away when uncomfortable or nervous. Likely another influence of prey instinct; classic “freeze” and “flight” reactions.
Eventually, he’s ushered into the meeting room; but not before he watches the son-of-a-bitch from earlier walk out with the last female dog hybrid. He honestly feels a bit bad for her, having to be stuck with such a prick.
The meeting room door closes after he’s reminded that he’s on camera. A few seconds later, the other door opens, and you’re escorted in, hooved feet clacking lightly against the floor.
You’re obviously nervous; your ears are twitching, tail flat against your bum, and you’re self-soothing by playing with your hair. Kyoutani wonders if this is your first time meeting a potential owner.
Kyoutani really didn’t think this through, he realizes. Oops.
“Uh, hey,” he greets. “I’m Kyoutani Kentarou. You can call me whatever you want, doesn’t matter to me. What’s your name?”
You don't reply; instead, you go oddly still, except for the twitching of your nose. You must be scenting the air.
Maybe sitting down will ease your anxiety?
He sits down on the floor and takes his faux leather jacket off. You immediately follow his lead and sit cross-legged, pulling a nearby stuffed animal into your lap.
“They, um,” you start, and your voice is a bit shaky. “They just always called me ‘fawn’.”
Damn, they didn’t even bother to properly name you? What the fuck?
On the other hand, Kyoutani is visibly impressed with your intelligence. Most hybrids have no trouble speaking in simpler sentences; however, since animal tongues and mouths aren’t meant for speech purposes, some hybrids (like dog hybrids: with longer, flatter tongues) find it more difficult as they figure out how to adapt their animalistic mouthparts to the task. Some hybrids just also lack the mental capacity to comprehend complex sentence structures.
As he’s contemplating this, it’s then that he catches you eyeing his leather jacket curiously. Growing up on a farm, it’s likely you’ve never encountered clothing like it before.
“You wanna try it on?” He asks, holding the piece out to you.
Cautiously, you take it, turning it over in your hands to get a feel for the material. You bring it up to your nose and take a cautious sniff.
Your ears perk up with a little twitch. “Smells kinda nice.”
“Yeah?”
You nod, and slowly put the faux leather jacket on. The sleeves are too long and the jacket is too big on your slimmer frame, and Kyoutani— against his will— feels a small kick to his heart.
“You can keep it,” he says without thinking. He’s always been a sucker for cute things anyway, and you in his jacket is… well. Super fucking cute. “Looks nice on you.”
You go red, eyes wide and sparkly as you gaze at him. “Really? You— you want me to keep it?”
“Sure do,” he says, resting his chin in one of his large, calloused hands.
“Thank you,” you say, voice just above a whisper. “This is my second gift,” You share. “My mum gave me one when I was younger.”
Kyoutani hums curiously, still taking in the sight of you drowning in his clothing. “What did she give you?”
You light up just a bit, seemingly excited to show off something you love. Shifting your arms to let go of the stuffed animal, you pull a dainty silver necklace out from hiding beneath your plain white shirt. Your nose twitches in hesitation as you freeze for a moment, but then you decide to take the necklace off.
Gently, you cup the necklace in your hands (hooves?) and scoot forward along the floor to hand it to Kyoutani. Your eyes remain trained on the necklace, like you’re afraid it’ll run away.
The necklace has a tiny heart charm with swirly engravings along its edges. There’s nothing too special about it; until… Kyoutani opens the heart, revealing an even smaller photo of a meadow.
“Where she found me,” you explain, a bit quieter.
Kyoutani feels his chest tighten a little, knowing just how much emotion the image must evoke for you. A rough thumb glides against the heart’s smooth edge. You watch his actions carefully.
“It’s pretty,” he comments, matching your volume. “Like you.”
Instantly, you duck your head as a deep pink dusts your cheeks. Kyoutani sees your ears twist backwards, and assumes you’re becoming defensive— fuck, did he seriously mess this up already?— until he catches a movement from behind you.
Your tail is wagging. Your! Tail! Is! Fucking! Wagging!
Kyoutani might die. He feels like his heart is going to explode.
“T-thank you very much,” you reply, and gods, you’re so polite. He’s definitely going to pass away at this rate.
He catches you eyeing your necklace a bit anxiously, so he offers it back to you, standing slowly. “Here, turn around” the hitter suggests. “I’ll put it on ya.”
You set your stuffed animal aside and move to stand and face your back towards him. Kyoutani reaches for you—
—and then remembers you’re half prey-animal. He might startle you if he’s not careful.
“I’m gonna touch your neck— is that okay?”
“Mhm,” you confirm.
Kyoutani moves your hair out of the way and clasps the chain around your neck.
He backs away, giving you space. “All good?”
You nod, and Kyoutani watches your big ears bob with the movement.
You turn back around, and now that you’re closer, Kyoutani fails to catch himself from drowning in your big brown eyes. They’re like pools of bronze agate in sunlight, and Kyoutani’s never found the color so beautiful and mesmerizing before.
You aren’t much better. You find his honey-gold eyes to be captivating in their black-rimmed intensity; you’ve never seen eyes quite like his.
The crackling of a speaker interrupts your moment, and you jump at the sound, ears and tail standing straight up in alarm.
“It’s time for our next introduction. Please exit through your respective doors,” instructs the voice over the intercom.
You’re unfortunately still frozen in shock; but after another couple seconds, you blink and return to a neutral state.
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Got scared.”
“S’okay,” Kyoutani says. “Kinda scared the shit outta me too.”
There’s a silent pause, and Kyoutani wishes he could look at your eyes again; but they’re fixed on the floor, and your expression is… fearful? Worried? Nervous?
“Hey, I’ll come back at the same time next week,” Kyoutani says, not giving a damn about how the person watching through the camera is probably wishing they’d hurry and leave. “Wait for me, m’kay?”
You finally look up at him, and your eyes glitter with a sparkle of hope. “M’kay,” you say, and then you’re ushered out by the same shelter employee from before.
That night, Kyoutani dreams of your waggly tail and alluring doe eyes.