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It began quickly, as most raids did: the crack of Komaru’s pepperbox signified their arrival before the rest of the team burst through the entrance, incapacitating the guards as they went. Their goal was to find the leaders running the human trafficking ring and take them alive.
Toko swung her greatsword, clearing a path to the offices deeper in the hideout, the half-elf at her back providing covering fire. The other half of their party headed in the opposite direction, toward the slaves’ cells. Their divination sorcerer, Yasuhiro, went to follow. His eyes flashed green for a moment and he called out a parting warning to Toko. “Remember what Boss said: Don’t fly off the handle!”
Toko growled and slashed at two more guards. How could she forget what Master Byakuya said? It was the same thing he told her before every mission, an order she tried her utmost to follow each time, with varying degrees of success. She couldn’t control herself any more than Hiro could control his visions, or Komaru could control the endearingly foolish things that came out of her mouth sometimes.
They made their way along the winding path that led to the leaders’ offices, the eladrin feeling reassured as always by Komaru’s presence. “Ready?” the half-elf asked her, and Toko nodded.
Toko kicked down the door and was unsurprised to find the leaders holed up together, holding magical weapons that were still clearly in the prototype stage. “Drop them,” she said, “and we can make this easy.” She hefted her greatsword onto her shoulder. “Your choice.”
As one of the slavers stepped forward, she heard a muffled sound. Casting her gaze across the room, her eyes finally landed on a cell behind the men. More accurately, it landed on what was in the cell. Despite being a Winter eladrin, her blood ran cold enough for her to feel it.
They were keeping children.
Small ones, at that. There were four of them, all huddled together, fear written across their faces. One of the children covered their mouth with their hand—likely the one who made the noise that drew her attention. As soon as she noticed Toko looking, the only girl shifted to block the others from view as much as she could, meeting her stare with a look that was equally fearful as it was defiant.
Toko burned at the sight, and she turned her attention back to the slavers. The rage sparked in her body, and she fought for control as she cried out, “You enslaved children here?”
One of the men laughed, and Toko instantly recognized him from Kyoko’s intel files as the leader of the entire operation. “Who better than children to do the work we bid them to? They’re so easy to control. Better than that, they’re cheap!” He sneered at Toko, as though daring her to respond. Her vision filled with red and a haze settled over her as she charged into battle.
The men crumpled one by one in a spray of blood, clearly used to only fighting those who feared them. She looked to Komaru, who had already knocked out the leader during Toko’s fight and was tying him up. “Send for aux and get him out of here before I kill him,” she barked, trying to ignore the concerned look on her friend’s face. Komaru tossed her the leader’s keys before using her sending stone to call in the auxiliary crew.
Toko wiped her greatsword on her dress and sheathed it, forcing herself to take a calming breath before approaching the cell. She unlocked the door, trying her best to appear unaffected, though her heart was cracking at the open apprehension on their faces. “I’m Toko, and that’s Komaru,” she nodded to the half-elf behind her, “and you’re free, now.”
Once they brought the children back to the base, Master Byakuya summoned her for her report. Why he had chosen her to care for a child at the end of it, Toko would never understand. “Consider it punishment,” Master Byakuya had said, “for being unable to control yourself.”
No matter how much she grumbled and cursed at him, she suddenly found herself the guardian of a little pink tiefling––a barbarian like herself, apparently, who could probably use a guiding hand. Against her better judgment and all her instincts telling her there was no way she could possibly raise a child, she took the girl––Kotoko––home.
She was quiet, more than a little shell-shocked, but Toko showed Kotoko her new room, drew the young tiefling a bath, and laid out clothes that were most likely much too big on her, with the promise of her choice of new clothing tomorrow. She seemed to perk up a bit at the mention, and Toko couldn’t help but feel a small flutter of hope in her chest.
—
Kotoko stumbled, her back hitting one of the arena’s walls. She could feel the bruises blossoming along her ribs, the slashes along her arms bleeding, and she felt her fear spike. Her grip on her warhammer slackened, exhausted after using it to help brace against the blows taken from a man at least twice her size.
He lumbered toward her unhurriedly, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. He knew this fight was all but won. One word from the masters and he’d be able to break her however he pleased. Kotoko was sure he’d be thrilled to beat a proud Hells-born tiefling into submission, uncaring that she was a child, and the crowd would be equally pleased to watch. She caught the eye of one of the masters desperately, begging him to stop the fight before it reached that point, but the man only looked on dispassionately.
The miner suddenly filled Kotoko’s vision. He leaned down, getting in her face. “Surrender, girl, or I’ll spill your tainted blood all over the pit.” He laughed maliciously, and Kotoko shuddered in disgust and fear.
She was tired of surrendering, of giving in, of hurting. She didn’t want to be weak anymore. Gods, she wanted to kill the disgusting men who were pleased to see her in pain, but more than anything, she wanted to win. She let the feelings wash over her, something sparking to life deep inside her.
“I surrender,” she said, and the man’s smirk widened, “Just not to you.” For once, she let her anger consume her. A snarl started deep in her chest, working its way out of her throat and breathing life into the space between them. Kotoko felt new strength surge through her, reinvigorated and sure.
She felt her already sharp nails and teeth lengthen, standing taller as fur sprouted along her arms. Kotoko felt more feral creature than young girl at that moment, and she loved how alive it made her feel.
Do you want to be strong? The creature asked her.
I want to be free, Kotoko responded.
She might not be able to fight against her captors, not yet, but she could defeat the man in front of her––this promise of power would ensure it. As Kotoko surrendered to her rage, opening her jaw wide, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of his fear-filled eyes—one of a wild beast. Her jaw closed around his neck with a—
—knock on the door. Someone was knocking on her door. Kotoko blinked dazedly, trying to remember where she was. She looked around the room, trying to reorient herself: plum-colored curtains, now shredded to bits; a bed in the corner, downy feathers still floating in the air; pale pink walls with significantly more gouges than before– ah, she remembered. She had been rescued.
She was free. The Future Guild had saved her and her friends… so why did she still feel so unsafe?
“—Kid, are you alright in there?” Toko’s voice was muffled through the door, and Kotoko winced. How long had she been calling for her? Gods, what would she say when she saw what Kotoko had done? Her gut squirmed as she glanced down at her hands, still covered in fur.
She needed to calm down. What had Toko taught her? Breathe in, breathe out. She wasn’t in any danger here, in this lived-in apartment in the middle of a big city. Kotoko was one of many here—the chances of anything bad happening to her were incredibly low, especially with a strong Guild member like Toko around.
Kotoko breathed a sigh of relief as her nails receded slightly and the fur disappeared, fear no longer at the forefront of her mind. Toko had stopped knocking. After a moment of silence, she heard the woman sigh heavily. “Can you at least open the door so I know you’re alive?”
Kotoko frowned, feeling bad for making her worry. She took another breath to steel herself before striding confidently to the door. She opened it slightly, plastering a bright smile on her face. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t hear you! I was catching up on my beauty sleep,” Kotoko sang, hoping that Toko wouldn’t be able to see too much of the destruction behind her.
Unfortunately, it seemed like luck wasn’t on Kotoko’s side, and she winced internally as she saw the way the eladrin’s eyes snagged briefly on the curtains. Something passed over her face before it quickly disappeared, settling on Toko’s signature dour expression.
“Right. Well, dinner’s ready, if you want to join me.” Kotoko cheered, racing down the stairs to the dining room. She chattered joyfully through dinner, relieved that Toko would keep quiet for a little while longer.
—
The two of them settled into a routine. During the day, Toko would invite Kotoko to come into the city with her. “Running errands,” she told Kotoko with a constipated look on her face, but Kotoko knew better. Toko liked routine: they went to the market on the weekends, visited the guild for a short time every other day, and would occasionally stop by a bookseller so Toko could disdainfully look over their collection.
Any other day they went into the city, she took Kotoko to clothing and potions shops, the smithy, and the park—anything that caught her eye, Toko would make some thinly veiled excuse about why they needed to stop in. She seemed to like doing things for Kotoko, giving her things. It confused her, and she tried to shake away the warmth in her chest every time Toko awkwardly showed her care.
Overall, things were… fine. By night, however, Kotoko found herself struggling to adjust. While her episodes had initially been rare as she settled into an unfamiliar place, they seemed to occur more regularly as her comfort levels grew. They crept up on her at night with seemingly no pattern, leaving both herself and Toko drained the next morning.
Kotoko was confused by Toko’s behavior. Her guardian didn’t have to stay up alongside her while Kotoko raged, but she did so anyway. She would sit outside her door, never crossing Kotoko’s boundaries, and wait for the memories to run their course. Kotoko felt oddly touched by Toko’s actions, the kindness offered without discussing it afterward.
She was still having episodes at night, but none nearly as bad as that first one a few days ago. Of course, as soon as Kotoko became used to the routine, everything changed, and their series of relatively good nights shattered.
Kotoko had surprisingly been able to fall asleep without issue but was swiftly swept up into a maelstrom of memories filled with pain and confusion. Her gums and fingers ached and pain coursed through her body. Suddenly, her air supply was cut off and malicious laughter filled her ears. Kotoko clawed at her neck, at her ears—anything to free herself from the terror that chilled her. She let out a piercing scream as air rushed back into her lungs, leaving her dizzy from the pain and the sudden rush of oxygen.
A different voice washed over her, one without warmth but one she registered as safe nonetheless. The pain lessened for a moment before returning with twice the intensity and Kotoko screamed again, deeper and angrier in the face of the abuse.
Suddenly, she was wrenched into consciousness by a gentle hand on her shoulder. Confused by the physical contact, she instinctively lashed a claw out and caught flesh, but Kotoko’s reaction was not met with a cry of pain. Her vision cleared a bit, enough for her to see the blood welling up from a deep gash in a pale purple arm. Toko’s arm.
Guilt settled heavily in Kotoko’s stomach and a squirming fear crawled up her throat. She had hurt Toko, who had only ever tried to take care of her! Now that she had hurt her guardian, she was sure to be sent away, but first Toko was going to hurt her back, punish her. She deserved punishment, Kotoko knew that she had been bad, but she didn’t want it. She scuttled away from Toko, who was sitting on the edge of her large bed, and made herself as small as possible in a distant corner of it.
Kotoko struggled to breathe and was only reminded of her dream—a hand reaching out and squeezing, her back burning—and a few tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she trembled. She was so caught up in her thoughts that when Toko finally spoke to her, quiet but rough, she couldn’t hold back her flinch.
“Kotoko,” Toko said, no pain in her voice despite the depth of her injury, “You’re not in trouble.” Kotoko shook her head—of course, she was in trouble, she hurt one of the masters! Fire might not hurt her as badly but they still had other punishments for a cursed tiefling like her—
“Can I touch you?” Toko asked, still so quiet and calm. A whimper snuck out of Kotoko’s throat unbidden nonetheless, fearing touches that shocked and burned despite her infernal nature. Even though Kotoko didn’t want it, she still expected Toko to touch her regardless—who would listen to a devil’s child anyway?—but she only sighed softly and said, “Okay.”
And then something even more confusing happened: Toko sat there, unmoving, from her spot on the bed and began to talk. She told Kotoko stories of all kinds: about her life, about the adventures she’d been on and the people she’d met, and about her home in the Feywild—how she missed it and always felt like a little bit of an outsider here even though people had more or less accepted her by now.
Kotoko let the stories wash over her and felt the tension slowly leave her body. She looked over at Toko, who had sat here with her without hesitation, and felt nothing but gratitude.
She slowly crawled across the bed to sit beside Toko, feeling another pang of guilt at the sight of the wound, still bleeding sluggishly. She took a deep breath and carefully took Toko’s hand. The eladrin stumbled over her words for a moment before continuing her story, squeezing the girl’s hand gently in response.
As Kotoko let the exhaustion from the emotional night overtake her, the sound of Toko’s voice washing over her, she had the sudden, comforting thought that her guardian’s hands were cool in her slightly smaller, overheated ones.
—
Kotoko woke up to the late afternoon sun on her face and the sound of voices downstairs. She blinked a few times before the events of last night washed over her, and the guilt and embarrassment came rushing back. She shook her head and went downstairs to the dining room, finding Toko with a strangely dressed tiefling woman who was stitching up the gash in Toko’s arm, cackling loudly and chattering her ear off. Toko looked miserable, but there was a familiarity to it, a fondness, almost, and Kotoko hesitated in the doorway.
Toko noticed her, and though her face didn’t change much, Kotoko thought her eyes maybe looked warmer, softer. She gestured for Kotoko to join them and she sat at the table curiously, swinging her feet.
“So this is your little spark, hm?” The tiefling woman glanced at her and smiled, “She’s cute! She gonna follow in your footsteps one day?”
“Just focus on sewing me up, Mioda,” Toko growled, but Kotoko saw a blush rise to her cheeks and ears. Toko turned to her as much as she could without obstructing the other woman’s work. “Kotoko, this is Ibuki Mioda. We’ve known each other for a long time.”
Kotoko looked at Ibuki, wide-eyed. The only other tieflings she had ever known were her parents, and they were—long gone. “It’s nice to meet you, sister,” Kotoko said.
Ibuki laughed raucously and Kotoko felt her own cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Isn’t she just precious? I should have visited my favorite writer sooner! It’s nice to meet you too, little sister,” Ibuki smiled at her, and Kotoko wondered just how the two of these women had met, so opposite from one another.
As she watched Ibuki finish her work, humming a tune to keep the stitches clean, Kotoko’s eyes guiltily snagged on the wound she caused.
“Y’know, you’re not the only one who’s had a hard time fitting into this world,” Ibuki said, picking up on Kotoko’s sudden silence.
Kotoko felt a pang of sadness at the thought of such a bright, confident woman possibly having to navigate the big, scary world on her own and hoped she hadn’t been entirely alone. Ibuki was so colorful: she didn’t try to hide her horns or tail and wasn’t afraid to draw attention to herself with her bright clothing. How long did it take her to feel that comfortable in her own skin? Kotoko wondered.
“I didn’t know tieflings could live freely on the surface,” she admitted.
“It’s certainly difficult for us, especially when people decide who we are before we’ve even spoken a word to them. I used to struggle to keep my infernal nature in check, but that only made the fire harder to control,” she said.
“Everyone was always so cruel to you,” Toko growled. “We both belong in Faerûn as much as anyone else does!”
Ibuki smiled warmly at Toko. “This world isn’t the kindest to people like us, little sister, but some people make living worth it,” she agreed, and Toko looked away, flustered.
“That’s a story for another time, though.” She glanced at Toko, and something seemed to pass between them. “Besides, I wasn’t talking about me!” Ibuki said.
It took Kotoko a moment to understand. “Toko?” She asked incredulously, and Toko nodded, looking a bit uncomfortable.
“Coming here from the Feywild was… an adjustment,” Toko scowled. “On top of that, I wrestled with keeping myself under control, too. It used to be difficult for me to pull back once I became angry. It would completely overtake me when I was in battle and I would get swept up in the frenzy of it all.
“I embraced the feeling: combat was so… thrilling, in a way not much else was. It was freeing to hold so much power in my hands when I was so powerless about everything else happening around me.” Toko’s eyes shone, and Kotoko could certainly relate to that feeling.
Her smile turned bitter as the look in her eyes became distant. “It was fine at first, but then I started losing chunks of time. I ended up hurting myself and those I cared about. Talking about it helped, some, but finding people who were able to pull me out and were strong enough to support me helped more.” Toko squeezed Ibuki’s hand and the tiefling woman smiled brightly at her. “Control comes with time.”
Caught up in the story, Kotoko couldn’t stop her next words from escaping her: “Is it really worth taking care of me if it’ll take so much time and effort to control that part of me?” She slapped her hands over her mouth and winced at Ibuki’s noise of concern, immediately wishing she could take it back.
Toko’s features contorted and for the first time since the raid, Kotoko saw her melancholic, emotionally repressed guardian become angry.
“Of course, it’s worth it, Kotoko. You’re worth it, and I will always take care of you now that you’re under my protection. You can overcome this, and you don’t have to do it alone.”
As Kotoko looked at the woman getting angry on her behalf, she saw the woman who saved her, her avenging angel covered in blood and gore, and she allowed herself to breathe. She crawled across the table to fall into Toko’s lap and hug her. The eladrin made a surprised noise before holding Kotoko fiercely, her arms thin as willow branches but strong as tree roots, and for the first time in a long time, Kotoko felt protected.
And Kotoko felt loved.