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Vam was standing in the kitchen, and, as he tended to do when he was standing in the kitchen, he was thinking.
He was also preparing food for Miso. The little bugger needed a bunch of special oils and supplements and liquid supplements because of how many allergies he had, so Vam wasn’t just thinking, but preparing Miso’s lunch. Soren just had to pick the neediest, scrawniest little sea bunny, didn’t she? Well, Vam didn’t mind; they were alike in their medical history. Even though the creature nipped and hissed at him and generally hated on him a lot, he didn’t really mind. A couple minor lacerations on his hands were nothing compared to the joy of hearing Soren giggle at Miso’s coos from across the apartment.
Also, he kinda thought the little bite-mark scars made him look cool.
Regardless, though, Soren was away at qualifications with her coach, Chione. Qualifications for an entire, full, actual tournament with professional players from all over the Splatlands. God, he was so proud. He’d been hyping her up all day, telling her how awesome she’d been doing and how awesome she’d continue to be, even taking her out to a practice stage so he could let her win get his ass kicked. It was a tournament only for turflings her age, which eased his worries a lot; she’d been making crazy strides of improvement in therapy for her anxiety, but the idea of a fifteen-year-old going up against a seasoned, nationally-recognized player on live television gave him severe anxiety. He was so, so excited for her, reminded of when Tideline was still around —
“GWAAAA!!!!!!”
“Huh? Miso, I’m making your food right now, you can see me mixing it.” Ever so slightly miffed that his train of thought was interrupted, he cracked open a capsule and sprinkled on the contents before leaning down to place it in front of the little freak.
Wait a minute. That wasn’t right. Miso’s posture was all wrong, his weight wasn’t on one back paw at all. Maybe it was an exaggerated emotion for the situation, but Vam felt his blood turn to ice. “What’s up, buddy? What happened to your paw?” He tried to touch the oh-so-pained back paw, and was greeted with a swift nip and a throaty yowl of outrage. Right. Definitely out of the ordinary; he wasn’t usually so snippy. He’d have to thank Soren later for crate training the critter.
They hopped in the car and Vam started the GPS navigation towards the nearest vet. Holy shit, this was going to take a chunk out of his paycheck. How was he gonna pay for Soren’s new gear? What if the paw was broken or sprained or something, and it turned out to be permanent, and that was alongside all his allergies and food? He might have to take on a second job or something, or maybe win the lottery, or dabble in burglary, but… he was awfully clumsy, and if he got caught no one could care for Soren —
“You’ve arrived at your destination.”
Right. He breathed in, breathed out, and turned off the ignition. He got out of the car, picked up the crate as gently as possible, breathed in, and breathed out again. He was going to figure this out. It would probably turn out to around a thousand dollars, maybe more if surgery was required. That was fine. Stamps knew how to pick locks, or whatever. As soon as he stepped out of the car, he sneezed so hard he dropped the crate. Fucking pollen. He picked up the crate, containing a very offended sea bunny that was absolutely voicing his concerns, and headed inside to start the check-in process.
“So, we looked for anything stuck between the pads, tested for a sprain or break, checked his claws, there’s nothing.”
Vam was perplexed. “So why was he limping?”
Miso walked in. Miso was not limping, and Miso looked very pleased with himself. Vam’s mouth dropped. “Did you fix him?”
The vet fidgeted with her gloves and laughed nervously. “You, uh, seem to have quite the actor on your hands. There’s virtually nothing wrong with him. I mean, I can run some more tests, but… well.” She gestured at Miso, who had jumped onto the counter and turned on the sink. She gently pushed him aside and closed the tap.
Vam blinked.
“So he was faking it?”
“He was faking it. Unfortunately, that will still be $200 due to the x-ray.”
Vam literally could have kissed her. Well, not literally, kissing was unhygienic, but he could have gotten down on his knees and thanked every single god that had ever been imagined. He was prepared for up to a grand in fees. He could totally still buy Soren a new carbon roller! After a quick ‘thank you’ and a solemn goodbye to that Dark Side Of The Moon vinyl he had been saving up for, he got back in the car, literally teary eyed. Partially because of relief, and partially because of the stupid fucking pollen. There would be no lockpicking lessons today.
His phone rang, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw who it was from. Soren.
“I GOT IN!!! I made it in! Chione was —” His phone cut off as it connected to the car speaker, and he swore under his breath before her voice blasted from around the entire vehicle. “— and she was so amazing and, and I got in, and I’m going to regionals, I really am, oh my god, I’m so excited!!!”
“Soren!!! Oh my god, do you need me to come pick you up? I’m on my way right now! I’m so excited for you!! Holy fuck, I knew you could do it, what did I say? Rock on, space cadet!!! I love you!!” His voice was nasally and weird, but she seemed too excited to take note.
Soren let out a raucous, giddy, wonderful laugh of sheer excitement. “I love you too! Hurry, I want you to meet my teammates before they go home!”
Vam broke a couple traffic laws that day.
“It was so fucking awesome, dude, I got a solo wipe just from sharking- oh, hi, Miso. Why’s Miso here?”
Vam paled. He forgot Miso was in the car; the little freak had been totally silent, probably using some supernatural sense to figure out that Soren was coming. “Uh… I wanted to surprise you.”
She shrugged. “Also, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”
“Allergies.”