Work Text:
"How did you even get yourself into a situation like this?" Kuzuha could honestly start tearing his hair out when he hears these words come out of Meloco on the other end of the line, terribly concealed laughter inbetween.
He could blame many things, if he's being absolutely honest.
First and foremost, there's his absolutely, irrevocably screwed sleep pattern.
If he could even call it a "pattern", that is. A demon's resting cycle is arguably quite different from a human's, especially if the demon is Kuzuha— a vampire who, as several of his friends have told him by now, very well qualifies as a NEET. He had to look that term up when Lauren first said it to him and then promptly threaten to literally kill him if he said it again.
He makes good money, which is all that matters to him.
Money that two days ago, he elected to spend on a 2AM snack hunt, which really just means trudging his weary bones to the konbini across his apartment complex.
It was a fruitful hunt by all means. The staff had finally decided to stock his favourite brand of strawberry milk (amen! Which is not a phrase he says very often as someone from the Underworld), much to his relief. He'd grown tolerant at best to the other, somewhat cheaper brand. Kuzuha is a creature of unbreakable habit if nothing else.
He also decided he did not want to cook while making his way down the meat aisle. If he did, he would've stayed home and opened his fridge. In this sentiment, he grabbed two randomized packs of ramen cups off of the nearest shelf stocking them.
He spent around fifteen more minutes wandering around the store and plucking items he deemed appealing. Wonderful places, these konbinis— if you told the Aleksandr Lagusa from around 130 years ago that there are places like this, he would most definitely have laughed in your face.
If he was even capable of laughing.
The cashier seemed just about as lucid as him at this tender hour of the night, and Kuzuha felt a pang of guilt in his largely motionless heart. He didn't experience what humans called "sleep deprivation"— only a watered down version of it caused by lack of mana that made his limbs and head feel heavy. He can't say he could sympathize, but at the very least, he's compassionate. That's character growth, he decides, and mentally pats himself on the back for it as he methodically puts his paid for items in the bag he brought.
He spends his way out checking the notifications on his phone, which is the second point he could assign blame to.
His periodical inattentiveness to his surroundings has been a long-standing problem according to others, but not enough for Kuzuha to care. He walks into a wall, he looks at it funny and keeps going. He walks into another person, he ignores them looking at him funny and keeps going. It's an easy thing, really, one that gets easier with age, he would assume.
Retrospectively, he thinks that after this, he might have to take others up on their word about this. When he voices that thought, Meloco only chuckles again, and he really, really could start tearing his hair out any minute now.
If hindsight is 20/20, his actual vision might need medical correction. He was almost, almost inside his home when he heard a small, almost lifeless whine come from the alley next to his building.
The Aleksandr Lagusa from 130 years ago would have kept walking. Kuzuha mourns him momentarily before he catches himself and turns to the side, leaning back ever so slightly on the off chance that he might get a glimpse into the dark alley.
He quite sadly does not. The thing about being an ethical vampire (Meloco's words, not his) is that he only gets to feed live every so often. For the uninitiated, live feeding means drinking a from a human, which is why some of his better-versed friends jokingly call him an ethical vampire.
He counts in his head, and concludes it's been a bit over two weeks now, which means his darkvision has gone graciously out the window around three days ago. He assigns this point of blame number three.
Because if his darkvision did work, he wouldn't have to grumble and walk to the incredibly dark alley to investigate where the weak yips were coming from.
He does this while heaving a lung-deep sigh and pressing his phone screen to turn his flashlight on. He has scattered thoughts of this could only happen to me at this hour and really, I'm probably just hallucinating, I should feed soon, before all of them are thrown aside and his mind goes blank as the flashlight zeroes in on the source of the sounds.
He very nearly drops his bag. He recollects himself, much to his credit— but not before blinking once, twice and then a third time for good measure to make sure he's not actually hallucinating and that he's not gonna have to call Meloco after this to attempt an exorcism on him.
(He tells her about that line of thought later. She laughs awkwardly and tells him that it would exorcise him too, because she's unfortunately not that good. The Institute of Infinity didn't do a very good job teaching her then, he grumbles in response.)
There is a dog laying on the ground behind a bunch of boxes with wounds strewn across its body, weakly kicking with its right hind leg, the left coiling back towards its stomach.
It seems to take notice of the source of light and Kuzuha behind it, because it lets out a slightly louder whine as if telling him to quit gawking and help it. Kuzuha thinks he really needs to go to sleep at this point, because he can't believe he's actually assigning human thoughts and words to a stray dog.
He approaches carefully nevertheless. The dog is really strange looking— fucked up is Kuzuha's initial thought, but he decides that's a little too mean, so he settles for peculiar. It has a long snout and large ears, maybe a wolf-dog of some sort? It's off-white in color, with its tail and legs fading into a light grey and bizarre, reddish lines across its face.
He doesn't really dwell on it. He's a little more concerned about its seemingly broken leg and wounded body.
He reaches out one hand towards the animal, advancing slowly to avoid getting bitten. Not that it would faze him too much, but being bitten by a random dog he found in an alley would be annoying at the very least.
Fortunately, it seems receptive towards his advances. He lays the hand flat across its side, and it stops kicking in favor of looking at Kuzuha like a deer in headlights. He manages a smile he hopes is comforting, because internally, he's lost his mind around three times by now.
The dog's ribcage heaves under his hand with the shallow, quick breaths it takes.
Kuzuha decides he's been crouching next to the dog for long enough. He quickly scoops it up with one arm, not missing the small yip the motion earns him from it, and walks towards the door of his building.
He'll take the dog to the vet tomorrow morning, he decides once he's in his home and he has to abandon his bag of groceries in favor of inspecting the incredibly peculiar-looking dog and its injuries.
Seriously, he's never seen a dog like this before. Not even a demon dog or anything of the sort, and he's seen a lot of those, so perhaps this is someone's show pet. It's well-groomed enough to be such, and a rare enough breed that he has no clue what the hell it is, so it's plausible enough for him. For some reason, the dog looks a little unamused when he thinks this.
He carries it to his bathroom where he sits it into the bathtub and turns around to grab his first-aid kit off the top of the mirror cabinet.
Why do you have that?, someone once asked him after seeing how extensive its contents were. Unfortunately, this person never got to know of his true nature and the fact that sometimes, some of his friends would allow him to take a bag or two of blood for later usage, so he just had to awkwardly chuckle and say that he likes to be prepared.
Which checks out right now, he thinks somewhere in the back of his head as he presents the medium-sized bottle of disinfectant and a slightly larger sized piece of cotton than he intended to tear off, but he doesn't really care enough to get another one or rip this one in half, so it'll do.
The dog looks slightly nervous when it catches a glimpse of the ridiculously stacked first-aid kit. Its eyes follow Kuzuha intently as he climbs into the bathtub, sitting in front of it and reaching out cautiously once again.
It seems to have realized that the man only intends to clean his wounds, because its muscles relax about as much as they can while in pain and it allows Kuzuha to thoroughly clean the wounds scattered across its body with disinfectant-soaked cotton.
It seems as though most of them are only surface-level, he realizes as he swipes across the longer gash on its (honestly ridiculously fluffy) tail for a third time. He concludes it enough, as he can see the dog getting somewhat antsy from having to hold still for so long.
He sighs deeply, and the dog tilts its head as if to ask him why.
"I need to take a look at your leg," Kuzuha says to it.
That seems to flip a switch.
The dog swishes its tail in front of itself to cover its legs and bares its teeth in a wordless warning. The vampire only rolls his eyes, a bored look on his face.
"Oh, very scary," he deadpans. "I can do that too."
He mirrors the expression, unnaturally sharp canines on a proud display of dominance. The dog seems to get confused at that and its posture relaxes. Kuzuha takes it as his chance.
He picks the dog up and inspects the leg that coils towards its stomach. He gives it an experimental touch with a piece of cotton, eliciting a reflexive growl and bite in the prodding hand's general direction.
"Okay, okay," he admits defeat. "You're not staying in my bathtub, though."
With that, he carries the dog in his bedroom where he opens a wardrobe and pulls out randomized blankets to fashion a makeshift bed for the dog.
He does the best he can with one hand, really. One of the blankets is comically large, and he spends three minutes trying to fold it up in an orderly manner before giving up and just bunching it up into a shape that only quite vaguely resembles a dog bed. The rest of the blankets go on top haphazardly, and when Kuzuha is satisfied with his work, he sets the dog down on the bed of blankets.
It's not his best, honestly, but give some credit where credit is due. He had five minutes and an increasingly fidgety dog in his other arm.
He vaguely recalls fetching a bowl and his groceries afterwards, giving water to the dog, the dog being really interested in his onigiri but not being able to walk up to him to express it and how he thought it looked so pathetic it was cute, and then giving half the pack to the dog.
He likely fell asleep afterwards, as given away by the pain eating away at his cervical spine, and he curses that he's such a compassionate vampire, because only after not feeding live for over two weeks would this happen to him.
The next problem that arises is that he sees the dog when he wakes up, and he concludes that it is, in fact, not a dog.
He spends a few minutes staring at it, trying to discern the pattern the lines on its face draw. It hits him right then and there.
"Oh my god," he says, quite uncharacteristically, and buries his face in his palms. The animal only stares at him from where it's laying in bewilderment.
Because only he could be so energy-deprived and therefore delirious that he would think that this is a dog.
It's very clearly a fox, is the thing.
"And how did you... find this fox?" is what the vet asks him a number of hours later. He feels like falling to his knees in front of the kind-faced doctor with a thick accent he can't really ascertain. The small badge attached to his chest pocket reads Dr. Vezalius Bandage, and Kuzuha thinks that's a little too on the nose.
"I thought it was a dog," he says simply instead of falling to his knees or pointing the vet's name out, who is now very clearly trying not to laugh at him.
"You thought it was a dog," he parrots, slightly shaky from his attempts to not burst out laughing, and Kuzuha should just drop dead, honestly.
"Yeah. It was 2 in the morning and all I heard was a bunch of whining," he explains, taking care to not let in on how absolutely hysteric he feels in that moment.
"Okay," Dr. Bandage heaves that word as a sigh, leaning on the inspection table with two hands with his head hanging down, trying to stifle his laughs. The fox is sitting between them, somewhat confused.
"Doc, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Am I supposed to turn this thing over to, like, some wildlife conservation society or something? Isn't there organizations that deal with this?" The questions pour out of Kuzuha involuntarily, and the doctor seems to finally realize that despite the situation being absolutely hilarious, the man in front of him is genuinely at his wit's end.
"In our area," he starts, "the organization that deals with this would only accept this fox if it were healthy."
"Shit," the word escapes Kuzuha swiftly. "So, is the leg bad? Like, surgery bad?"
"Oh, no," the doctor turns his head towards the light panel with images of the fox's bones projected on it. "It's only a fracture, just a splint will be enough for it to heal."
"Okay," Kuzuha says, relief apparent in his voice. He watches as Dr. Bandage (calling him that in his head is getting incredibly tiresome) goes to retrieve whatever it is that he needs for the splint.
"And after it heals, what do I do?" Kuzuha asks when he returns, watching intently as the vet coaxes the fox's leg into a straightened position to wrap it. "I mean, I'm cool with pets but... a fox might be a bit too much, no?"
"When it's healed," the doctor begins his answer as he wraps the gauze around the leg, "you'll have to come back to us and we will hand this guy over to the relevant people."
"Okay," Kuzuha sighs as if a boulder has been lifted off his chest.
"In the meantime, strict bedrest," he says, tying the final round around the fox's leg before cutting the gauze and fixing it onto itself with two adhesive bandages for good measure. "And the pharmacist in the front will give you some painkillers to put into its food so the leg doesn't bother it too much."
Kuzuha beelines for the pharmacist when he's out of the room, a young blonde man with a softer voice, who gives him the small bottle along with a line of instructions as he pays the bill.
When he's home again, the fox sits on the floor, staring at him where he sits at the dining table.
What the fuck kind of situation has he got himself in, really?
Which leads him to where he is, sprawled across his bed with the fox laying on its throne of blankets, Meloco, his exorcist friend from the Institute of Infinity on the other end of the line.
"Dude," she breathes out. "That's a lot."
"Wow, thank you, Captain Obvious. I've been experiencing this for the last twenty-four hours and I'm so desperate I called you," he rants, a slightly hysteric tone slipping into his voice.
"Okay, but, like," she begins, "foxes are omnivores, right? Just feed it, like, beef or something and it should be fine."
"I'm not too well-versed in human diets, why would I know what a fox eats?" Kuzuha is starting to get somewhat desperate. The eerie pathway of his search history starting from what do foxes eat, somehow arriving to where to get live rabbit and then concluding at would a fox be fine if it drank blood, which was when he realized he's completely screwed, didn't make him feel any better about his situation.
"It ate your onigiri yesterday and it's fine, no? Beef should be okay. Cross my heart and something-something."
"Meloco, you're really not doing anything for my confidence in that this will blow over."
"Then don't take my word for it," the woman says, and Kuzuha could swear he heard the shrug. "You would've had more luck with literally anyone else in your contacts. I'm an exorcist, I don't know anything about foxes."
"You're the only one that wouldn't just make fun of me for thinking it was a dog for two hours on end," Kuzuha refutes, tone flat. "Appreciate that, because that's the only time I'll say it."
"How gracious of you," Meloco's tone rises in mock gratitude. "I'm serious though. Actually just feed it raw meat. That's basically what they eat in the wild, isn't it? I don't think you would've looked up where to acquire a live rabbit if they didn't."
"Right. I'm really not cut out for this," he sighs, free hand coming up to rub his left eye. "I'm gonna go try and feed it the painkillers. Or something. I don't fucking know anymore."
"Wow, you sound enthusiastic," Meloco chimes on the other end. "Chin up, alright? You got this. You can survive a fox."
He's entirely positive he can't, but he doesn't say that out loud as he thanks his friend and hangs the call up.
He spends a minute or so sprawled out on his bed starfish style before turning his head towards the blankets, only for the words to die stillborn in his throat to see that the pile of grey fur is missing from it.
This seriously could only happen to him.
What did that doctor say again, strict bedrest? The fox is not supposed to be moving on a fractured leg in any case, Kuzuha believes. He bolts up from his bed into a standing position and his hand is hovering above the ajar door when he hears it.
A soft clattering from the kitchen. Something akin to the rustling of plastic wrappers, containers being moved, drawers being opened and then shut again.
He places his hand on the door to pull it open, slightly defeated in his body language. His though process goes, hell, whoever's unlucky enough to break into my home is just going to have to deal with having half their blood gone, because I really can't take it anymore, why the hell do I keep getting into situations like this? I really should've just stayed in the Underworld, shit like this would probably happen there too but at least I wouldn't be wholly and entirely unprepared for it like I am on this plane. What the hell.
He's only halfway through this disorganized train of thought before it's promptly derailed when he sees that the figure in the kitchen is a little odd-looking. What the hell, he thinks as he turns to flip the light switch on, because as absurd all of this has gotten, a demon breaking into his house was not on his bingo card.
He blinks five times now, because he has to make absolutely sure that he isn't hallucinating. He hears a container of something clatter to the floor distantly, but he can't really care.
There is a human male raiding his fridge.
More accurately, he recognizes off-white tails (tails?) fading into light grey sticking out from waist-level; nine of them in total. He also recognizes the large ears that now twitch on top of long cream-coffee hair anxiously, and the odd grey-blue shade of eyes, staring at him like a deer in headlights. Most of all, the reddish lines on his face cut an eerily familiar pattern that makes Kuzuha reel.
It makes him reel because it finally clicks for him, and he stares at the male as though he's fresh out of a lobotomy. He honestly thinks if he were to be lobotomized, it wouldn't make a significant difference at this point.
When Kuzuha's eyes travel lower (involuntarily, he promises), he sees the telltale way the male's left leg is slightly raised off the floor. He also takes notice of that fact that he is completely naked save for three of his tails coiling towards the front of his body defensively and the one large blanket he probably stole from the pile and wrapped around himself messily.
His eyes trail back up to where the fox-guy is staring at him cautiously, one hand with long, black, claw-like nails holding onto the fridge door as if to prevent himself from collapsing. His ears have stopped twitching, now merely turned in his direction.
Kuzuha heaves a sigh.
"What the hell," he breathes out, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he steps to turn to the side.
The fox seems to somewhat relax at that, still watching him intently, but now confused.
"Okay," Kuzuha says decisively, turning back towards the fox and pointing a finger at him. "There's clothes in the wardrobe next to the bathroom. Put something on and then tell me what you want with words. And don't fuck with my fridge next time."
With that, he walks back into his bedroom and sits back down on the edge of the bed.
He attempts to collect the derailed thoughts he had before that.
A kitsune makes alarmingly more sense than someone's show pet is his first thought, and he wants to die, honestly.
He could scream. He could scream and cry at this point, because he hasn't had proper sleep or food in weeks now and he couldn't even grab one of his packs from the fridge that the fox was too busy raiding.
If Kuzuha really takes the time to think about it, he's confused more than anything.
His muddled brain tries to recall the years he had to spend studying different types of supernatural creatures, including but not limited to yokai, in the Lagusa clan's library. It seems that type of knowledge can be useful for purposes other than killing said creatures.
Because like this, he remembers that kitsune are heavenly emissaries of sorts, and their number of tails depend on how long they've been alive and how wise they are.
He groans through the mental math required for him to figure out that the fox in his home has been alive for a thousand years at the very least. That makes him even more confused, because the guy he saw all up in his fridge didn't look a thousand years old. Or like a very wise fox yokai. Though he supposes he shouldn't judge a book by its cover too harshly, taking into consideration his own nature.
In any case, his main question is how such a powerful yokai ended up in that situation.
He's yanked out of his head by the sound of shallow breathing on the other side of the door as one clawed hand grabs onto it.
"You can come in," Kuzuha says. "I'm not naked in here or anything."
A pair of ears peek out from behind the door, followed by a messy head of light brown hair and finally the kitsune's face. After verifying that he's not going to see anything he isn't supposed to, he cautiously steps inside, ears flattening next to his head in an expression of guilt.
The hoodie he picked reaches about the middle of his thigh, where he nervously pulls at the hem. His tails hang low behind him, and Kuzuha only now notices how massive the whole thing is. All nine of his tails probably take up more surface area than the guy himself, if he's being honest.
"Okay, you don't have to look that guilty," he says to the fox upon seeing his flattened ears and somewhat pensive expression. "What's your name?"
"Name," he parrots in his soft voice, somewhat hoarse from disuse, "oh." He's chewing on the syllables, as if he's learning how to talk.
"Yeah, your name, dude."
"Kanae. Is fine," he finally says, and Kuzuha feels a form of relief because they're finally getting somewhere.
"Okay. Kanae. We're already making progress here," Kuzuha says, his voice an exasperated sigh as he leans forward to bury his face in his palms. "I'm Kuzuha, in case you didn't know that already."
Kanae nods cautiously.
"Alright," Kuzuha stands up as he says this to pace around his bedroom in agitation. "What happened? If you remember."
"Car," Kanae says simply.
"Right, you got hit by a car. Aren't you, like, a millenium old or some shit though?" The words pour out of Kuzuha involuntarily, but he can't even care anymore, because this situation is actually unbelievable.
"And two hundred," the kitsune appends. Kuzuha rolls his eyes.
"That's not what I'm asking. How did you get in a situation where a car hit you and it broke your leg and you couldn't heal it?"
That renders Kanae silent. His hands still where they fidgeted with the hem of the sweatshirt previously, and he seems to recoil into himself.
"Oh my god. I didn't mean it like that," Kuzuha quickly says, one hand reaching out in apology. "It's okay if you don't remember or don't want to answer. I just want to know if I'm to help you."
"Help... me?" Kanae questions.
"Of course. I took you to a vet, dude. Though we could've avoided that ordeal if I wasn't such a dumbass," Kuzuha says, mostly to himself, eliciting a soft chuckle from Kanae. Undoubtedly, their feelings about that appointment differ.
"You're... a vampire, yes?"
"Ah," that catches Kuzuha off guard. He blearily recalls when he bared his fangs back at the small fox, a mock display of dominance. "Yeah. That bothers you?"
"No. Just surprised," is all Kanae says. He seems to be getting his ability to talk like a normal person back, and Kuzuha heaves another internal hallelujah at this small step. "How long?"
"How long? I'm around 150, if that's what you're asking."
"A pureblood, then?" Kanae questions, genuine curiosity from what Kuzuha can tell. He cringes at that term.
"Technically, yeah. I don't like being called that though, so don't call me that."
"Got it," Kanae says, and his features show some degree of guilt again. Kuzuha groans.
"Dude, it's okay. You couldn't have possibly known," he tries to comfort Kanae. "I generally don't advertise 'titular heir of the Lagusa clan' on job applications and shit like that."
"Lagusa?" Kanae inquires, as if recalling something. "You're a Lagusa?"
"Sadly, yes, I am. I don't associate with that lot anymore, if that's what you want to know though."
Relief spreads across Kanae's features, and Kuzuha is a little curious about that, but he doesn't press.
"Okay, my turn to interrogate you," he says instead. "A millenium and two hundred, huh? What are you even doing down here then?"
"Down here? This is my domain too," Kanae's ears finally rise from their flattened position and Kuzuha is proud of himself.
"Yeah, but like, aren't you tenko supposed to only come down to Earth if necessary?"
"You know better of my kind than most demons," the fox remarks, an impressed tone. Kuzuha has to bite back an annoyed noise at that. "Contrary to common belief, we can do whatever we want."
"I don't doubt that," Kuzuha waves his hand. "It's just, most of you that I've met had some type of important business here. I get the impression that a good chunk of kitsune don't particularly enjoy the mundanities of human life."
"A good chunk does not mean most," Kanae points out. Kuzuha concedes with a nod and a shrug.
"So, how could I not sense your mana or something? I thought you were, like, a really fucked up show dog someone lost."
"Don't ever say those words to me again," Kanae squints at him, his ears flattening back next to his head, seemingly agitated. "Don't compare me to those creatures."
"What, I think dogs are pretty cute. Why do you lot hate them so bad anyway?"
Kanae strategically ignores that question in favor of answering the initial one. "Our mana is starkly different from a demon's, that's why you couldn't tell. The point of assuming the form of a regular Earth fox is to blend in, so it conceals itself."
"No way," Kuzuha bites back. "I could've sensed it either way. That's, like, one of the only perks to being a... pureblood," he says that word with disgust, seemingly easing Kanae back into a more relaxed posture.
"Oh, you think highly of yourself, then," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hubris?"
"No, not at all. Just being realistic."
Kanae eyes him up and down. "Then, you're underfed."
"Wow, how did you guess?" Kuzuha's voice becomes a little higher with that, mildly hysteric from being reminded once again that he's really, really fucking hungry.
"Your smell," Kanae says before sniffing the air twice. "Hungry. Three weeks soon."
"You can even tell how long it's been," Kuzuha breathes out and buries his face in his palms once again, the tips of his ears heating up. "That's not freaky at all."
"Naturally. So," Kuzuha very nearly misses the soft, weightless footsteps approaching him, and by the time he's looking up, Kanae is leaning far into his personal space. "I could return the favor."
"Favor? Dude, you were about to die and I helped you, that's hardly a favor. And your ankle is still fucked up, so back up and—"
"I don't like owing things to others. We can get even now," Kanae interrupts him, one ear twitching in anticipation. He has Kuzuha caged in his own space, hands resting on his shoulders as he leans over him, breathing words into his ear. "You can't lie and say you don't want to."
"That's— that's an entirely different topic! What I want and can have and should have are different things. Can you get out of my space?"
"You can though," Kanae says, barely above a whisper. "And you should."
This seriously could only happen to him.
He doesn't deny it; there's an unmistakably sweet, sickening smell wafting through the air. If he can smell the blood, he's positively starved, he should take the offer, his traitorous brain supplies. He nearly cries when he looks down cautiously, only to be greeted with the milky expanse of Kanae's neck, ever-so slight movements betraying the beating of his heart.
A heartbeat he can feel in his own chest and throat now, he notices through the fog that's taken residence in his mind.
He feels two soft tails curl around his side, the flick of a long, pointed ear against somewhere on the back of his neck, and Kanae's grip tightening on his shoulders.
It's too much— no, it's not enough.
Three weeks is a long time, no?
Before he can so much as utter a word, he feels warm fingertips at the base of his jaw that turn to a light, sickening drag of claws as they trace the line of it, pushing slightly to tilt his head to the side.
"Cold," Kanae remarks, palm laid flat against his cheek.
Kuzuha exhales a breath he didn't realize he's been holding. One hand comes up between them, tentatively splaying across Kanae's chest. He seemingly preens at that, tails encircling them swishing happily.
Not long enough for this.
"Had your fun?" Kuzuha simply says, giving the fox a gentle push. The grip on his shoulders loosens as Kanae's face finally comes back into view.
He's smiling.
It's a vulpine expression and he's so taken with it, he doesn't notice another warm hand come up to the other side of his face, now cradling his head.
"You're really an honest one, aren't you?" Kuzuha catches a glimpse of sharp teeth as the fox speaks, and his eyes travel left in an annoyed expression as Kanae squishes his cheeks together gently, an excited tone creeping into his voice. "Silly vampire."
"Yeah, yeah," Kuzuha responds to the nickname monotonely. His hands now move to rest on top of Kanae's arms between them. "How long are you gonna keep pretending that your ankle isn't hurting?"
It's as if realization strikes Kanae, and he wraps one arm around the vampire's neck, hanging off his side desperately in a pathetic mock display of suffering.
"Oh, whatever shall I do," he exclaims, dragging the end of the syllable out in an exaggerated tone. "I cannot walk like this; if only there was a strong, kind and compassionate soul around to—"
Kanae barely even registers when Kuzuha lifts him off the floor, one arm under his knees and the other encircling his midsection. The words are promptly knocked out of him as he desperately scrambles to hold onto his shoulders, catching a glimpse of his downright unamused expression as he maneuvers into the bathroom.
"You catch on quick," is all Kanae manages as he's set down on the edge of the bathtub.
"I'm too tired to play these games right now," Kuzuha responds simply as he retrieves his first-aid kit again and kneels in front of Kanae. "Fortunately, I'm a little more familiar with this kind of anatomy."
"So I assumed," the fox cautiously says. "What's with all the... needles and stuff in your kit anyway?"
"I have some incredibly nice friends," is what he gets as a response. He's left to dwell on its meaning as Kuzuha inspects the wounded ankle.
"By the way, you still haven't told me what you want to eat."
"Eh?" Kanae is snapped out of his thoughts as swiftly as he got lost within them, looking down at the vampire with wide eyes. "I assumed—"
"You assumed wrong," Kuzuha cuts him off simply as he retrieves a roll of bandages and starts methodically wrapping it around the ankle. "I said I'd help you."
"Why?"
His hand stills momentarily before resuming as he speaks. "Because you're wounded. And I don't feel like pissing off whatever god you serve by telling you to fuck off. And I don't mind the company."
Kanae thinks that's a rather brash way of wording it, but he doesn't say. He only watches as Kuzuha fixes the bandage onto his ankle with a few adhesives before presenting a strangely shaped piece of fabric. Kanae tilts his head instinctively.
"This one's so you don't move it too much," the vampire explains as he swiftly puts it on, fastening it with motions Kanae can't quite discern. When he's done, he stands up again to put the first-aid kit back on the mirror cabinet.
"Try walking on it now," he says after he turns back around.
Kanae puts a tentative foot on the bath mat, a shocked expression blooming on his face when he finds that he can't bend it as he's supposed to.
The pain has dulled into static in the back of his head by now, if he's honest.
He stands up, taking notice of how Kuzuha steps forward a little, ready to catch him should he fall. He doesn't point it out.
"Thank you," he mumbles.
"No worries," Kuzuha smiles back at him, and it might be the first time he's done that, and it's such a heartwarming expression, Kanae thinks.
He should get him to do that more, if the chance arises.