Chapter Text
The normally spotless lab was in shambles, half-finished projects lying abandoned on the floor, never to be completed. The purple LED lights were disabled, and only the red of the generator lights cut through the thick darkness, lending the room an ominous atmosphere.
This room used to be the embodiment of all of Donnie’s dreams. Dreams made into reality through strictly ethical theft, his pure genius, and hard work, with beautiful, glistening metal, always in purple.
Donnie hadn’t been able to bring himself to work on any of them in an entire year.
More than the lights, more than his projects, something was missing in this lab. Its absence made Donnie’s world turn on its head, the floor disappear from under him; it was a knife in his chest that twisted deeper and deeper with every breath, until he couldn’t remember what it was like to not be in pain.
He missed his twin. So, so much.
Late at night, when Donnie was sucked into a project and Leo couldn’t sleep, he’d slip in the door without a word, lounging on the chair Donnie kept next to his desk. (It was there for Leo, not that he’d ever tell him that.) He’d talk Donnie’s ear off about everything and nothing, constantly moving around and spinning on the chair, with that sort of boneless energy he always possessed. It should’ve been annoying, and sometimes it was, but more often than not his twin’s presence had a calming effect on Donnie. When he was too focused, when he neglected himself, Leo was able to bring him back with a few witty remarks. His voice was always obnoxious to cover the concern underneath.
These days, his lab was always silent, save for the whirring of the generator. So deafeningly silent.
There was a hesitant knock on the door, and Donnie smothered a sigh, tearing his eyes away from the computer (where he’d been poring over data for the tenth time, because there was nothing else, and Donnie didn’t know what to do anymore) to glare at the door.
“If you must disturb me, it is unlocked.”
A large green hand pushed open the metal door, Raph’s grim face appearing a moment later. “Hey, Don, how you goin’?”
Donnie rolled his eyes. “I thought we already agreed to keep the small talk to a minimum. You came here for something, so spit it out and get lost.”
Raph bristled at the tone, but then deflated. They used to fight a lot, when they first lost Leo. Like cats and dogs, screaming at each other at all hours of the day.
They knew better now. It was just too much effort.
“Barry gave us a tip, about some mafia deal happening in the Hidden City,” Raph began, avoiding Donnie’s eye. He’d been uncharacteristically passive recently.
Donnie filed that information away.
“And?”
Raph let out a small exhale of breath, fiddling with his belt. “It’s been a while since we had a mission. I think it’d be good for us.” There was a pause, then a slight wince, as if he expected Donnie to react poorly to his next words. “And… it’s our duty.”
Donnie spun his chair around, irritation swarming his mind like a dark cloud. Raph had been trying his damndest to force Donnie to move on. To forget Leo.
“And here I thought our duty was to each other,” Donnie sniped back, voice sharp, like steel.
“Donnie—” Raph began, voice tight with anger, before he breathed in. “Donnie,” he tried again, gently, “going on a mission doesn’t mean we’re forgettin’ Leo.”
“Well you don’t seem to be doing a whole lot of remembering,” Donnie spat, clenching the arms of the chair with his hands. “Just—just go. I don’t want to do this again. I have work to do.”
There was a small sigh, then the soft sound of the door swinging shut behind his older brother. Only when he was gone did Donnie release the breath he’d been holding, sagging in his chair.
It was so silent.
The kappa awoke.
Rather than being unceremoniously thrown into consciousness like it used to be, it simply opened its eyes between one breath and the next, staring blankly at the grey ceiling. It had been trained to wake up on time: seven o’clock sharp, every morning.
It sat up, pulling the pinkish beige sheet off its legs then climbing to its feet in one smooth motion. Briefly, it straightened up the cover, pushing the thin mattress back slightly against the wall; it must have moved while it was sleeping. Next, it walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open—it wasn’t worth the effort to close it. Every move was practiced, perfect; honed by days and days, months and months of the same routine.
As it leaned forward into the sink to wash its face, it tilted its head up, studying its face in the mirror. The creature that stared back was pitiful; its pale green skin, sliced by two blood red crescent stripes, glistened with water, and its eyes that tracked the face were a dull brown.
It looked like it did every day. It looked like the kappa, the turtle mutant, the bodyguard and sometimes pet of Zerda “Fin” Vulpes.
The corners of its lips curled down, into a small frown, and it hurriedly raised them again. That wouldn’t do.
Just as it was exiting the bathroom, Fennec walked into the room with a smile, stifling a yawn behind his hand. “Good morning, kappa, how did you sleep?”
The fox wasn’t actually looking for an answer, the kappa knew, so it said nothing, just fell into line slightly behind him and to the left. They ascended the spiral staircase, then walked through the mansion. Although the kappa knew its eyes were supposed to stay on the ground, it couldn’t help but trail them over the various paintings and art pieces on display. Although the walls were a desaturated beige colour, the decorations were lavish and sophisticated; Fennec truly was a connoisseur of the arts. Paintings and statues were in every corner, adding splashes of colour and life to the drab building.
In particular, its eyes lingered on a portrait of a woman. Lady with an Ermine, by Leonardo DaVinci.
It wasn’t sure how, exactly, it knew what it was named; the fox had never deigned to share his interests in art with the kappa, because why would he? Hobbies and interests were for people. A person was something the kappa was not.
Something flickered at the edges of its thoughts, like static electricity.
The kappa blinked, and suddenly they were in the main sitting room; it shared the same colour palette as the rest of the house, but with lush red accents on the furniture and carpet. It was where the fox spent most of his time, and the kappa waited on his beck and call.
The fox collapsed into one of the armchairs, adjusting his glasses. “Eggs, today.”
The kappa nodded, then walked backwards out of the room and continued to the kitchen. There, it quickly and efficiently prepared a breakfast for Fennec, stopping briefly to eat some rice that had been left for it.
When it returned, meal in hand, Fennec hadn’t moved; he was still staring out the window, a hint of a smile in the corner of his face. He usually looked like that.
He accepted the meal with a nod, and the kappa settled on the floor nearby, sitting on its knees with a straight back. It watched its commander eat, observing the way his fur lit up in the sunlight, and he lounged back in his chair. His shoulders were relaxed, face expressionless; the picture of ease.
With a sigh, he held out the finished plate, and the kappa stepped forward to take it. Hurriedly, it returned to its spot in the corner, keepings its eyes stubbornly trained on the carpet to avoid its commander’s piercing stare.
The carpet was slightly dirty, bits of lint stuck in it and ruining the immaculate atmosphere of the mansion. The kappa found that the hint of disorder in such a sanitised home was oddly… refreshing.
“Not much on the agenda for today,” Fennec began, and the kappa snapped to attention, training its eyes on the fox’s and nodding. “There’s an auction around noon, deep in the Hidden City. I’ve heard whispers of a very famous art piece being there, and I’d like to have it. I’ll expect you to accompany me and protect me, of course,” he added conversationally, cocking his head slightly as he regarded the kappa.
The kappa nodded once more, but still Fennec stared, and a trickle of panic began breaking through the kappa’s iron walls. It wracked its brain, thinking of what he might want or what it might have done wrong, but it couldn’t think of anything.
The panic must have shown on its face (which was something that had to be worked on; it could never be anything less than perfect), because the fox laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Oh, relax, kappa, you’re not in trouble. I was just thinking.” He smiled, one of his fangs peeking through his lips. “It looks like there isn’t anything going on in there at all.”
He waved a vague hand towards the kappa, lips curling into a slight sneer. The words weren’t a question or a command, so the kappa didn’t respond, just lowered its eyes and hoped the fox wasn’t angry.
He sighed deeply, pouting his lips. “Nothing? Really? Not even a snarky retort? Maybe I did my job too well with you.”
His tone was light enough, the kappa decided; sometimes he got in talkative moods and treated the kappa like a conversation partner, and it was its job to differentiate those rare occasions from normal. “I’m… sorry,” it tried, voice soft and hesitant, scanning its master’s face for any signs of impending anger.
Fennec just sighed slightly, leaning back and gaze sweeping towards the large circular window, but his hands didn’t raise to activate the collar. “Y’know, sometimes I miss how you were early on. You’re boring now.” His lip quirked up in a half smile, red eyes bearing down on the kappa appraisingly as if they were sharing a joke.
The kappa mimicked the expression, lips feeling like cardboard as it bent them into place. Something twinged deep inside it, like a rubber band snapping back into place, leaving it feeling vaguely sick.
It wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t sure of anything; that was how the fox liked it.
The fox stared into its eyes for a moment longer, then, apparently disappointed with what he saw, turned away with a small frown. “Go. Clean the house, sit in the corner, I don’t care. Be ready to leave at noon.”
The turtle ducked down slightly in acknowledgement, then crept out of the room.
The Hidden City was beautiful, exhilarating, teeming with bright and colourful life and places. As the kappa walked obediently behind the fox, on their way to the auction venue, it couldn’t help the desire that darted up inside it. Desire to run, to look at everything, to drink in the not beige and not silent paradise that it found itself in.
It squashed all of that down, though, and lowered its gaze to the ground just below the fox’s feet. It couldn’t afford wants, couldn’t afford desire. A familiar, comforting static planted roots in its mind, its thoughts drifting and vanishing like smoke as it let its feet lead it.
A sudden cold prickling against its scales anchored it back to reality, and it blinked as it looked around. They’d stepped into a building and out of the sun, the minimal lighting in the room rendering it dark and gloomy. Green mystic flames hovered in each corner, but due to the size of the room the illumination was weak.
Numerous yokai trailed through the doors after them, and the kappa waited behind Fennec. Silent, watchful, rigid. This was the job it was trained for, and it would not fail.
The auction began smoothly; the kappa tuned most of it out, while still listening intently for any possible threats. As they were in a room full of the Hidden CIty’s most powerful mafia members and personalities, the odd dirty look or sneer was to be expected; the kappa disregarded all of them as just a show.
About halfway through the biddings, though, after Fennec had already purchased two items (a statue imbued with good energy from Witch Town, and an enchanted painting that took on the form the viewer found most desirable), there was something strange. A noise.
It wasn’t much, just a slight scuffle from above, as if something was darting through the rafters. Feeling its breaths slow, expanding its lungs and heightening its senses with a familiar adrenaline, the kappa reached a hand back slowly to flex against the hilt of its odachi.
Not wanting to alert the potential threats, it didn’t look up, but kept its eyes trained on the announcer on the stage at the front of the room. A few tense breaths passed, where the kappa strained its ears for anything else.
And then, there was a gasp. It was a quiet sound, strangled at the end as if cut off, but it was enough of an indicator that something was amiss. It briefly considered leaping into the rafters to engage the threat, but decided against it; its objective was merely to protect Fennec, not to guard the auction.
Besides, if it caused havoc and ruined the auction, Fennec would be… displeased, to put it lightly.
“Raph… is that…?”
A familiar whisper drifted down from above, burying itself in its brain with a sort of comforting pain it wasn’t sure what to make of. The voice was young, and high-pitched, wavering with what could’ve been sadness or surprise. Something in its face twitched.
“Leo,” another voice breathed, this one deeper and awed. And for some strange, inexplicable reason, that word twisted deep, deep inside the kappa and unlocked something. A tight, iron box that it had placed there long ago, containing all its messy feelings and memories from before Fennec.
A flame sparked to life, hungry, burning, licking at its insides with the sort of desperation that took its breath away. It was a feeling that was familiar, but in the way of a past life that didn’t quite feel like it belonged to the kappa.
“Is it really him?”
“I… I dunno, Mikey. But there’s no way in hell I’m leavin’ ‘im there.”
“Wait, what are you doing? You can’t just jump into a room full of criminals!”
The kappa’s heart was thumping, lurching against its plastron and sticking painfully in its throat like it was going to swallow the organ. Everything felt far away, suddenly; the edges of its vision blurred, and everything it had was concentrated on the strained voices high above.
“That’s my brother down there, I’m not just gonna stay here.”
It only just had the sense to wrap its hands around its odachi and draw it defensively before a loud boom rang out, a large green shape landing in a crouch in the middle of the auction hall. The crowd panicked, screaming in confusion and fear as the fighters among them surrounded the threat.
The kappa almost went to join them, but something anchored its feet tightly against the floor. Fennec glanced back at the kappa, eyes narrowed and glinting with something it couldn’t name, and then he stepped behind it.
Another figure dropped from the ceiling, landing close to the first.
Then the crowd cleared, and the kappa caught its first glimpse of the intruders. When their eyes met, the intruders’ so hopeful and fragile, looking as if they might break, something primal and monstrous broke free inside of the kappa.
What once was a candle transformed into a forest fire.
It roared, burning the edges of its ribcage and setting its lungs alight. The kappa desperately tried to clamp down on it, instead cataloguing the appearances of the threats.
They were green, one wearing red and the other orange. The first figure was significantly bigger than the second, limbs rippling with powerful muscles. Tonfa were clenched tightly in his hands, and his smaller companion wielded a kusari-fundo with what looked like deadly precision. The pair moved with a familiar grace, a fluidity to their moves only matched by the kappa’s own.
The one in red stepped forward, an arm raised placatingly and mouth trembling between a smile and a grimace, then whispered, “Leo, we’re here to take you home. You’re okay now, you’re gonna be okay.” His voice was weak, broken, and something inside the kappa whispered that that was wrong wrong wrong because red was strong and unshakeable. It didn’t know how it knew that, and that distress hammered down on its chest, making it feel like it was falling, falling, spinning out of control—
Everything went blank. All it could feel was the hilt of its sword against its sweaty hands, all it could hear was Fennec’s steady breathing at its back.
All it could see was two threats.
Just as it raised its odachi, preparing to protect its commander at any cost, Fennec grabbed its wrist.
“Portal, kappa,” he hissed, voice tight with anger. “Now.”
Allowing its body to act on the muscle memory of following Fennec’s orders, its arms slashed downwards and tore through the air, leaving a jagged, glowing blue gash. In the second before Fennec pushed it through, the kappa’s eyes slid, unbidden, to those of the intruders.
What it saw there struck deep inside its chest like a jagged blow, a clawed hand reaching through its ribs and squeezing its heart until it stopped beating. Two pairs of eyes, that it somehow knew as well as its own, staring and staring at it like it was all they’d ever wanted.
And then reality stuttered, blinding blue overtaking its vision as it fell through the portal, giving way to a muted beige. For a few seconds, it just stood there in a daze, breaths coming in harsh pants and hot tears pricking at its eyes. It couldn’t—it didn’t—it had no words to describe what just happened, no way to express the inferno that had razed its insides.
(There was a word to describe it. Family.)
The kappa shoved that thought deep, deep down.
It must’ve been knocked off kilter by the interaction, because without thinking it turned and began to pad in a familiar direction, mind already lost to the void of hollow static as it imagined being swallowed by a dreamless sleep. That was a terrible, awful mistake, though.
It hadn’t been dismissed by Fennec. One of the first rules it learnt was to never do anything without being told to (except, of course, when Fennec expected it to use initiative.)
“Where are you going, kappa?”
There was something in the fox’s tone, sharp like steel, underneath its usual sugary warmth that stopped the kappa in its tracks. It was an all too familiar tone, that made it think of electricity on its tongue and pain pain pain, so thick and heavy it could barely breathe.
“To my room, sir,” it responded, voice carefully even. Just this once, it wanted to be able to do something itself, wanted to be alone to sort through what had just happened.
Fennec let out a tired sigh, then the sound of shuffling reached its ears. “Come sit,” he invited, voice light but layered with something heavy underneath. “I think there are some things we need to talk about.”
Ice appeared in its veins, freezing the blood running through them and chilling the kappa to the core. The still thriving flame inside of it flickered, and it pressed down against it, attempting to douse it with cold steel. There was a sinking feeling inside it, like losing footing on an icy slope, that it had done something wrong.
And it knew all too well what that meant.
(burning burning ripping off its skin clawing up its throat like a thousand knives)
Numbly, the turtle dropped to its knees in front of its commander, who’d sat down on his favourite plush red armchair.
“Did you… recognise those yokai?” The fox asked, his usual sly grin painfully absent, his red eyes gleaming as sharply and coldly as the turtle's sword.
There was a trap in those words, the kappa realised with trepidation. A wrong and a right answer, a tightrope to walk, and if it stepped wrong it’d plummet down a cliff.
“No, sir,” it responded, slightly breathless, willing the flashes of painful familiarity and burning warmth to disappear deep into its faulty brain. Somehow, it knew if it couldn’t tell Fennec about this strange flame. Even though the thought of deception made it feel filthy and disloyal, he couldn’t know. “I didn't.”
The words were bitter on the kappa’s tongue. They tasted like a lie.
Fennec’s eyes stared into its face for a moment, churning, analysing. Sometimes, when he got those calculating expressions on his face, it reminded the kappa of a familiar turtle yokai, who wore way too much purple and whose eyes would cut right through anything as his intelligent mind searched for a solution.
Bad kappa. Don't think.
Fennec’s smile widened, sharp canines peeking through his furred lips, and he rested a furry hand on the kappa’s shoulder. The turtle felt its breath freeze in its lungs, and it had to fight to not lean into the touch, to not demand more, more, more , to not drink in the scent of coconut and linen and fur as if it would never smell it again.
The turtle loved when Fennec was nice to it. Even if it had to swallow the sharp, turning sickness in its stomach every time he touched it, it was all so worth it for the warmth that shot up its shoulder and into its heart, for the feeling of belonging and being loved.
And the closer it got to him, the easier it was to push down the memory of the intruders.
“I'm proud of you,” the fox said, and if the kappa had a heart it would have jumped out of its chest with elation, the words etching themselves into its brain so that it could parse over them every cold night for the next few years, could remember the genuine half-smile on his lips and the glint in his eyes that reminded it of the way a short, furry, grey man used to—
And then the hand tightened, claws digging into the kappa’s skin. It nearly flinched back, but a stabbing, buzzing pain in its neck stopped it from moving any further. The fox leaned forward, head cocked to the side, piercing red eyes locked onto the kappa’s and staring the way one would at a bug under a microscope.
Its breath was frozen in its lungs. It held itself still, rigid, forcing down the confusing flashes of warmth and fear. It shouldn’t be surprised by Fennec’s mood swings anymore; it’d had what felt like years of dancing around his anger, being tenderly held and hurt in the same breath. Still, though, it couldn’t help the whiplash that resulted from it. The anxiety of not knowing his next move.
And then it was over, all that remained a dull throb of pain. Fennec’s hand gently caressed the now bleeding wounds, the blood coating his claws the only evidence of what had just occurred. “You’ve come so far,” he remarked, as if to himself, eyes glazed over with something the kappa couldn’t quite place. “I’d hate for all of my work to be wasted.”
Ah. It could recognise now what was swirling inside its commander’s eyes: jealousy.
“I’m yours,” the kappa assured quickly, placing a hand against its plastron above where its heart would be. “Forever.”
“You say that now.” Fennec blew a breath out, retracting the hand from the kappa’s shoulder. The absence of it made its skin prickle with cold and emptiness, and it bit back a whimper. “But I saw your eyes, back at the auction. Tell me… who do you think they were?”
The kappa hesitated for a moment, brain shorting out at the reminder of those mutants and their familiar eyes. Panic thumped in its chest, but it kept its face as neutral as possible, as it said, “Threats. They were threats and nothing more.”
It could sense, from the way Fennec’s eyes narrowed, that the pause had been too long to be forgiven. The atmosphere shifted, just slightly, from warm and slightly stuffy to cold and sharp. The kappa felt its muscles spasm in its right arm, but it forced it to keep still.
“Threats,” Fennec mused, the word lilting with amusement. “To you, maybe. I disagree, though. They’re not threats to me; they are nothing.” Fennec leaned closer, unblinking eyes staring into the kappa’s, some kind of love or possessiveness swirling within them, the same way he often looked at his paintings. “I do not let others take what is mine.”
A chill ran up the kappa’s spine, and it had to fight not to flinch back or avert its gaze. When Fennec got like this, the kappa couldn’t help but feel like a rabbit trapped under the gaze of a predator.
“Alright,” Fennec said, turning away and waving a hand. “Go to your room. I have no further need of you.”
Without even thinking about it, the kappa was already standing, striding thoughtlessly in the direction of its room. The fox had been kind enough to remove the bars, a long time ago, after the kappa stopped resisting. It really had been easier; one by one things became easier like dominos; the bars came down, the shocks stopped, the muzzle came off.
Sometimes it wondered why it didn’t give in earlier.
That night, when the kappa lay down in its bed, which was just a thin mattress on the floor but still more than it deserved (the fox was so generous) there was a dim flame within its chest, something that expanded with every breath and brought warmth to its body that was always so cold.
It burned, and it hurt, but the warmth was also so good. It was like water in the desert, light in a dark room; the kappa wasn't sure what this feeling was, but it wanted more. More, more, more, until the flames engulfed its whole body and there was nothing but that enticing, beautiful heat.
Every time the memory of green skin and coloured masks flashed through its head, the flame grew. The kappa chose not to think about that.
The kappa didn't think, after all. It had been taught better than that.
The next morning brought more of the same.
It awoke at seven, spent the next few minutes getting ready, then followed Fennec to his sitting room.
(He didn’t say good morning)
It prepared him breakfast (Fennec asked for toast, today) then sat, rigid, as it waited for him to speak.
Something inside it still felt off kilter, wound too tight, like it might break any moment. The air tasted wrong on its tongue, and it kept glancing up at Fennec, a thick dread piling up in its stomach. Everything was off, Fennec was off, the kappa was off, and Fennec liked things a certain way.
The kappa wasn’t sure it could handle the fox’s anger right now.
“I need to take care of a deal in the city,” he said suddenly. Although the kappa strained its ears for any irregularities in his tone, he sounded completely normal; no tightness, no pauses, no anger. Nothing that promised pain.
The kappa didn’t let its guard down yet, though. It couldn’t afford to hope.
“I’ve also received an invitation from a collector of mystic items, who apparently has some incredible pieces of art. We leave in an hour.”
With that, the morning continued as normal, in a blur of monotony and routine that the kappa didn’t even need to think about. It very carefully refused to think about the events of last night, or the flame growing inside of it that charred its insides in a way that felt almost as good as being in Fennec’s arms on one of his good days.
It followed Fennec around the Hidden City, and kept its eyes trained on the ground. It staunchly ignored all the bright colours and delicious smells, focusing instead on the feeling of pavement under its bare feet, the steady breaths that expanded its lungs. It had to be perfect.
After the fox’s first deal, during which the kappa stood guard outside a lavish room, eyes scanning for potential threats, the fox went to get some lunch in the city.
In these sorts of moments, when its skills weren’t needed for any kind of protection or intimidation, it had learnt to fade seamlessly into the background. It was best to not draw Fennec’s attention after a deal, it had learnt; it had to be invisible except when it didn’t.
Today, it stood under the shade of a side-street vendor’s van while Fennec placed his order, and despite itself snuck a few glances around it. This street was bustling with life, in a bright, unapologetic manner; yokai of all shapes and sizes walked and ran every which way while shop owners promoted their wares, and street performers flashed mystic lights and conjured pretty shapes for passersby. Although the kappa was standing in the middle of it, it felt as if it were observing a world from behind a glass wall; it couldn’t touch it, couldn’t interact with it, couldn’t be part of it.
Its gaze flickered to the left; Fennec was walking back towards it, a bag in hand. The kappa fell wordlessly into step behind the fox as he joined the crowd, walking for a few minutes until they reached a large, ornate water fountain in the city square.
Fennec took a seat on the edge of it, setting down the bag and removing its contents before holding them up.
And, to the kappa’s surprise, he held two boxes.
“I figured you’d be hungry,” Fennec said with an almost bashful smile, patting the spot next to it on the fountain. “You’ve been doing such a good job, I wanted to get you a treat.”
The warmth in his voice set the kappa’s heartbeat ablaze, a rush of happiness sparking in its brain. At the same time, though, a cold suspicion settled in its gut—it knew without a doubt that its performance recently had been… subpar. There was no reason for Fennec to reward it.
Gingerly, it took a seat next to him, accepting the offered item with a slightly wooden smile. “Thank you, sir.”
Fennec shook his head, already peeling the lid off his box. “No need to thank me, kappa. You deserve it.”
It stared at the box in its hands for a moment, the giddiness at its commander’s words locked in a battle with the ever-present tension, before it reached a steady hand to open it. Inside was a meal that resembled pasta, with thick purple sauce and toppings it couldn’t name.
It was warm. The pleasant sensation seeped through the cardboard into its hands, and the delicious aroma drifted upwards into its nose. Holding something this… nice felt wrong, somehow; this wasn’t something the kappa deserved, wasn’t something it got.
It felt like life and people and massive mystic cities. Not beige and coconut and linen and fur.
A hand rested atop its, stilling the shaking the kappa hadn’t even realised was happening. It looked up, cheeks burning with embarrassment, to see Fennec’s gentle smile. “You can eat.”
That simple permission unlocked something inside it, loosened the tension and feeling of wrongwrongwrong, so with a hesitant nod it copied the fox’s earlier actions and removed the lid of the box, finding some cutlery inside.
The food was delicious. That was too simple a word to describe the explosion of flavour and colour on the kappa’s tongue, the warmth that sat comfortably in its stomach, chasing away the constant churning. There was a feeling of peace inside it that, contrary to the bursts of validation and stomach-swooping anxiety, made it feel… whole, somehow. It just sat with Fennec, watching the bustle of people around it, and for once allowed itself to be fully present in the moment.
This was a nice moment. It didn’t know why Fennec thought it deserved it, but it was glad the yokai was so kind, because it would remember this, would cling to it. Embarrassingly, it had shuffled closer to Fennec during the meal, and rather than push it away like it deserved, he’d slung a casual arm around it.
It eyes slipped closed. Suddenly, the arm around it wasn’t short and furry, but thick and green, and its head rested on a hard shell, and a feeling of peace and safety settled over the kappa like a thick blanket.
What…?
Its eyes shot open, and it forced that image down, down, down into its little box, but the unsteady feeling lingered. It snuck a glance over to Fennec, who had a rare look of peace on his face, staring up at the sky.
In the wake of that strange memory—no, not memory, dream—Fennec’s touch didn’t feel the same. When Fennec embraced it, there was a certain warmth and hunger that blossomed to life inside the kappa, a desperate desire to never let go. But it didn’t feel loving in the same way as that brief flash; rather, it burnt, charring its edges and crumbling it into ash.
No, it thought, shaking its head to clear it of the unwanted thoughts. Stop that.
It tried to settle back into the peace of the moment, breathing in Fennec’s scent, but it felt almost overwhelming. It cursed its stupid, confused mind for always ruining moments with Fennec, cursed everything that happened yesterday at the auction for uprooting its life, cursed itself for never being enough.
Why couldn’t it just be enough?
Fennec stood suddenly, brushing himself off and offering the kappa a hand. Accepting it gratefully, the kappa climbed to its feet, picking up the boxes from the edge of the fountain and depositing them in the rubbish bin.
As it stood there for a second, it took a deep breath, and attempted to centre itself. It could do this. It could be good enough for Fennec. It just had to forget.
When it turned around again, its face was schooled into neutrality.
The mystic items dealer requested to meet Fennec in an… unorthodox location.
As they walked into the dimly lit building, the kappa gripped the hilt of its sword tightly. It was on high alert, every sense attuned to danger, eyes darting around the darkness.
It couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t alone.
“Greetings,” a richly deep voice said from the darkness, and a cloaked figure stepped forward. He was tall, and each footstep rang sharply against the wooden floor, almost as if he was wearing heels. “Mr. Vulpes, I take it? And who might this be?”
The man gestured to the kappa, who straightened in surprise. It wasn’t used to being directly addressed by anyone other than Fennec.
It felt… kind of nice.
“My bodyguard is no concern of yours,” Fennec sniped back, the sugary smoothness of his voice giving way to a sharpness the kappa’s ears were attuned to. “I was told you have mystic artifacts. I’d like very much to see them.”
The dealer made a sound, part displeased and part amused, and he crossed his arms. “Very well.” He shifted slightly, and the faint light pierced the yawning shadows under the hood; a pair of yellow eyes flashed from the darkness.
Those eyes were familiar.
Eyes widening, it leapt forward and drew its sword, shouting, “Commander!” Before it could reach Fennec, though, a blurry green figure dropped in front of it, blowing a strange red dust in its face.
Immediately its mind slowed, limbs becoming heavy, and it dropped to the ground. Just before it lost its grip on consciousness completely, it heard a voice tenderly whisper, “You’re gonna be okay, Leo. Raph’s takin’ you home.”
And then everything turned black.