Archive of Our Own ^beta

Amane straightened the lapel of her blouse in the rear-view mirror of her car. However, vanity does not spur her fidgeting; rather, it is anxiety. Based on the report alone, this would be one hell of a case, and she could tell by just a glance that they're out of their depth.

She eyed the large, burly man standing in the overgrown yard of their target destination. He clutched a jug of sake in his meaty fist, taking the occasional swig as he stared right back at her. Her painted lips thinned. What was taking him so long?

A familiar rickety van pulled up beside her, DHPS printed in bold letters across the side. Now that her partner had arrived, she had no reason to stall.

She took one last moment to compose herself before exiting the car, Murata, her partner in the van, following her lead. He hesitated when he saw the man watching them from the yard.

"I already told those damn peepers to mind their fucking business," the man shouted at them, leaning against a wooden beam on his front porch. His eyes slotted toward the neighbor's house, scoffing when a curtain was hastily drawn.

"Sir," Amane soothed, "We're only here to assess the situation."

"No, you want to take my shit, all because some nosy fucks couldn't stop themselves from blabbin' about nothin'," he snapped back.

"If it's nothing, we'll be out of your hair before you know it. You haven't been charged with anything."

The "yet" goes unspoken. Amane doesn't like passing judgment without solid evidence, but this man didn't exactly invite confidence.

The man's eyes narrowed defiantly.

"Like. Hell."

"We have a warrant, sir."

The man's nostrils flared at the word warrant. His wiry brows furrowed, a thunderstorm brewing in his expression as he flashes his yellowed canines.

"You fucking cops and your warrants." He swung the jug to his lips, sloshing sake down his sharp chin and stained clothing.

Neither rescuer bothered to correct the man. Legally, they weren't law enforcement, though they often worked hand in reluctant hand with them.

He messily wiped his mouth with his grimy sleeve. "Fine. The fucker ain't worth all this trouble anyway."

"Actually," she eyed his expression, more animal than human. "Murata, call officer Urokodaki." She turned back to the man, whose expression had only darkened further. "Just a precaution, I'm sure you understand."

Murata fumbled for his phone, trailing a few paces away as he made the call. Amane idly listened to the one-sided conversation, eyes never leaving the threat in front of her. Murata turned back toward her after a moment.

"He, uh. Says he can be here in five."

They decided to wait. The hybrid had been waiting this long, unfortunately. Surely they could wait a few minutes more for backup to arrive.

Thankfully for her nerves, Urokodaki arrived within the span of a few minutes. He politely tipped his hat to Amane upon arrival. He was one of the few officers who didn't think poorly of her and her cause.

"What's the situation?" He pulled her to the side, though she's sure the unpleasant man could hear them just fine anyways.

"He won't tell us anything of use."

"Alright then." He cleared his throat and turned toward the brute of a man. "I'm gonna ask you to wait out here, sir. We'll make this quick."

The man scoffed, then gestured mockingly at the door.

The first thing that hits them is the smell.

Urine, alcohol, and rot.

Murata, a trainee, cringed and slapped his hands over his nose and mouth, gagging. Amane maintained her composure, a slight wrinkle to her nose the only indication she even noticed the stench.

Urokodaki's face didn't even twitch. He simply clapped a reassuring hand on the trainee's shoulder before venturing deeper into the house. He cleared the kitchen of threats first and checked the cupboards for any possible stowaways before leading them back to the living area.

Their feet crunched over discarded trash— beer bottles and takeout waste littered across every surface. Stains climbed up the faded, peeling wallpaper, though they got the impression it wasn't always like this. Despite its state of disarray, the house was rather nice, spacious, and located in a decent neighborhood. Faded photographs lined the wall, each displaying a seemingly happy family.

Urokodaki peeks around the corner of the hallway, finding a dark corridor with five doors: three on the right and two on the left.

They had no choice but to try each door.

The first was a small linen closet filled with random junk. Behind the second was a truly filthy bathroom. The stench hit them like a wave, eyewateringly foul. They toughed through it just long enough to check the cabinets and shower, quickly clearing the room.

The next door, however, just to the right of the bathroom, was far worse than they had expected.

The smell was just as bad, if not worse, than the bathroom, made stale by the heat of the room. Even Amane, who had managed to keep her composure until then, couldn't quite stop herself from covering her rapidly paling face. Sweat beaded beneath their collars as they took in the dreadful state of the room.

"O-oh my god," Murata cried. He'd always been a nervous young man, though Amane couldn't blame him for the tremble in his voice in this situation. "I-is it al-alive?"

Amane followed his horrified gaze, eyes struggling to adjust to the low light. The only window in the room had been crudely boarded up, and the window itself had been plastered with old magazines and newspapers. The light from the hallway behind them was all they had to work with.

The room itself was destroyed. The floor is covered in torn, filthy newspaper, soaked through with fecal matter and other foul liquids. The boards on the window are splintered, flecks of blood coating the jagged edges. Bloody claw marks carved through the far wall, shredding the wallpaper and exposing broken drywall and hints of pink insulation beneath.

And attached to the floor at the base of that wall sits a heavy plate of metal, screwed into the base of the wood. Connecting to it is a short chain, perhaps no longer than five to six feet. Her eyes followed the chain to its end, finding a small lump at the end.

If she thought it was hard to breathe before, it doesn't hold up to the weight that now settles on her chest, suffocating her.

The lump… a body, shifts slightly, drawing back from the light.

"It's… young," she managed. Her eyes watered, and not from the smell alone. She inched forward after a moment, ignoring Urokodaki's warnings. She fumbled for her phone, clicking on the screen for light. Something long and serpentine twitches weakly in response.

A tail.

"It looks… feline, by its tail. Ears are rounded, possibly either a fancy breed or a big cat."

God, she hoped it was not a wildcat. Wildcats were notoriously difficult to keep in captivity, and if it were a big cat, that would make the process of rehabilitation so much harder.

She crouched down about a foot away from it, careful to make sure she wasn't perched in anything… unsavory. The hybrid stirred again, and Murata jumped slightly.

"M-Mrs. Amane!"

"It's okay," she assured, eyes fixed on the hybrid. "It can't reach me from here." She'd paid close attention to how much slack was on the chain, after all.

A dull, violet eye flickered open, unfocused and staring past her. The hybrid made a strange mewling sound, though it seemed reluctant to move its jaw. She can't say she's surprised, not with the way the right side of its face had been slashed open. The gash trailed over its cheek and across the nasal passage. Her stomach swooped when she realized she could see the bone white glint of teeth through the opening in its cheek.

The eye above the gash is swollen closed, leaking a strange, yellow discharge, which drips from its chin.

It mewled again, sounding confused, dazed as it struggled to sit up. It wore no clothes, exposing its gaunt body, ribs heaving with every breath.

"Male. Juvenile," her voice trembles.

The worst, by far, are its hands.

Calling them mangled was polite. It looked as if someone had-

She swallowed back the bile, forcing herself to assess the damage.

His small fingers had been bent in odd, unnatural directions. Where his nails should be is only raw, exposed flesh, swollen and covered with crusted, flaking blood. It looked to her as if someone had crudely broken and peeled off the boy's claws.

The poor thing mewled once more. And Amane's heart shatters.

She took a deep breath through her nose, ignoring the sting, and straightened her back, craning her head to peer at Urokodaki. The man's normally kind and gentle expression had turned stony. She recalled that Urokodaki had taken in three hybrids of his own, each from tragic backgrounds. He loved them like they were his flesh and blood.

"Officer Urokodaki, I believe we have probable cause to arrest Shinazugawa Kyogo on aggravated hybrid cruelty."

To think, that was likely only scratching the surface of what had likely been done to this hybrid— this child.

Urokodaki didn't bother to reply, retrieving a pair of handcuffs from his belt, the cold clinking of metal the only thing to fill the tense air. He silently turned on his heel, disappearing around the corner.

"M-Mrs. Amane?" Murata stuttered, flinching at the sound of shouting from the other room. Kyogo yelled something incomprehensible, followed by Urokodaki's own bellow of rage. Murata's head whipped toward the sound, even as he hesitantly stepped toward Amane.

Amane's breath quivered as the kitten whined once again. She suddenly became aware that at some point she had taken the hybrid's mangled hands into her own. She bowed her head.

"His hands…"

Tears carve tracks through her once immaculate makeup, leaving streaks of mascara stark against her porcelain skin.

"Oh, Mrs. Amane…" Murata's shoulders sagged. "He'll… He'll be okay."

"Do you think so? Truly?"

Gray eyes shifted toward the hybrid's slumped form, whose pale skin and protruding bones resembled a corpse more than anything.

She exhaled shakily as the silence stretched thin. Murata can't answer that, and Amane knew it. She knew better than to ask, as well. In this line of work, she was exposed to such horrific things, many of which had no happy ending.

But, damnit, if she wasn't going to try.

But, looking back at the broken boy, she had another realization: they are woefully underprepared for this. Still, she would have to make do.

"Murata, go bring me the largest carrier we have. I'm going to call ahead to our facility and make sure that the emergency unit is ready to receive us."

"Right!" He stood up straight, latching onto the task he had been given. He rushed out the door, leaving Amane alone with the tiny body. He mewled again, and Amane closed her eyes to stem the tears as she realized what the vocalization was.

It was that of a kitten calling its mother. A purely instinctual noise, the kind even newborns would make. A call for help, for their caregiver to find them.

Thankfully, Murata arrived quickly, though he looked jittery and shaken. The carrier he clutched was more than big enough for the relatively small boy. They simply couldn't risk carrying him out by hand. They needed to lay him on a flat, stable surface and avoid jostling him as much as possible on the off chance he had any internal damage they weren't aware of. A stretcher would have been ideal.

"The chain," she gasped.

"I, uh, I've got the key. Urokodaki got it off the guy. It- well, it got kind of violent out there."

He handed it off to her, a silver, unassuming little padlock key. She unlatched the lock from the collar on the boy's neck, quickly finding another problem.

The collar had been much too small and had dug a small ring into the boy's neck. With all the filth in the room, it was likely infected like the other wounds, too.

She sighed. Another problem to add to the list.

"Help me get him in the crate, please."

Murata trotted over to the other side of the limp, barely conscious kitten. He crouched, hovering his hands awkwardly as he realized he had no idea how to go about doing this.

"Uhm…. Mrs. Amane?" Dark eyes flicked nervously toward the case worker. Maybe, had it been any other time, the hesitance would be amusing. Then, it only grated on Amane's already frayed nerves. They didn't have time to hesitate.

She took a breath to compose herself, even as her mind raced.

"Okay," she rolled her shoulders, feeling the stiff muscle loosen. "I want you to grab him here," she guided his hand beneath the boy's tummy, cringing when she felt something wet. "Be gentle and make sure his spine is aligned." Even putting him in the recovery position felt too risky to her. "And I'll grab the other side. We're going to push him inside, slow, but steady. Do not let him twist or let go, no matter what."

Murata nodded, though he looked less than confident. And if she was honest, neither was she. Should they even be moving him? But she had to be decisive now, for the hybrid's sake.

"Okay," she sucked in a rotted breath. "On my count. One."

They positioned their hands, meeting each other's eyes.

"Two. Three."

The hybrid shrieked, broken and jagged. His own scream caught in his throat, and he choked on his pain with ragged breaths and panted croons.

"Mrs.—Mrs. Amane?!" Murata's panicked gaze darted between the thrashing hybrid and his boss's sour expression.

"Steady. Let me move the carrier to him, not the other way around."

She slid the carrier closer. The hybrid continued to whimper, the one open eye rolling in its socket, delirious with sickness and pain. They got him about halfway into the carrier before his tense body suddenly went limp. His cries tapered off, then stopped completely as the boy blessedly fell unconscious. She released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as they guided him the rest of the way inside.

As soon as his body was safely within the carrier, they rushed the crate out of the room, carrying it as fast as they could without jostling it, one on each side.

The living room was somehow even more of a mess than when they first entered, the table broken and glass scattered across the floor. They had to be extra careful as they made their way out. When they do, they found that Urokodaki had just finished stuffing Kyogo in the back of his cruiser. He looked up when they exited, then jogged over to help open the van for them to slide the carrier inside.

"I can give you guys an escort back to the facility," he muttered, staring forlornly at the crate.

"You won't get in trouble?"

"It's up to the officer's discretion, and I'm saying this is an emergency. Now hurry up, let's get on the road."

Amane grabbed the keys to the van from Murata, climbing into the driver's seat. She would simply have to send someone to retrieve her car later. She needed Murata in the back to keep the hybrid steady.

Urokodaki flipped the switch to his sirens, taking the lead as they peeled out of the parking lot. If Amane weren't so distracted, she might have enjoyed the way traffic parted to make way for her. But as it was, each bump over a pothole or turn made sweat bead beneath her collar. It took everything she had not to look back at Murata and the hybrid in the back.

"M-Mrs. Amane?"

"Yes."

"I-I don't…" His voice was dripping with dread. "I don't know if he's breathing."

Amane pressed harder on the gas, and her bumper grazed the back of the cruiser. Urokodaki thankfully got the message and booked it.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Amane sees the rescue facility off in the distance in all its imposing glory. She quickly switched from the gas to the brakes, pumping them so as not to throw them all through the windshield.

As she slowed, barely remembering to turn on her blinker, Amane spotted two figures stationed outside, waiting to receive them.

"There's the Kochou sisters!" Murata blurted with relief, frantic eyes trained toward the two women with butterfly clips perched in their pristine black hair. A welcome sight—the Kochou sisters had dedicated their lives to their cause, and were quite skilled despite their age. They are refined, sharp, and concise, hailing from a long line of doctors and pharmacists. They are the first in their family, however, to work exclusively for hybrids, not humans.

They turned into the parking lot as quickly as they could while still being safe, pulling up beside them. They moved immediately, circling the van to the back and throwing open the doors to get to their patient. They had a stretcher prepared next to them, which they quickly set the carrier on. Amane quickly unbuckled, jumping out of the van to join them.

"What are we looking at?" Shinobu directed at Amane, tone clipped, but professional.

"Er, feline, young, male. Extremely malnourished with extensive trauma to the face, hands, and neck, possibly an eye infection. The rest is unknown; we didn't want to maneuver him too much in the field.

Kanae, the elder sister, peered into the crate, face grim as she quickly dragged the tiny body out.

"No breathing," Kanae stated as she seamlessly transitioned to chest compressions. "Did you bring the Ambu bag?"

Rather than answer verbally, the younger sister, Shinobu, retrieved a small mask attached to a large bulb of air. She sealed the mask over the boy's face, then squeezed the bulb to get air flowing into his lungs as Kanae continued compressions.

"Pushing Epinephrine, .05mg."

Shinbou prepared the medicine as best she could with only one free hand, the other keeping a steady, constant air supply. There was a sickening crunch as Kanae pressed down on the boy's chest, and Amane could visibly see where the boy's rib broke. Shinobu felt for a vein in the hybrid's arm, efficiently pushing in the IV and administering the medicine.

It all felt as though time were in slow motion. Amane found herself holding her breath, hands clutched tight to her chest until…

The kitten jerked on the rolling stretcher, gasping in pain. Kanae paused compressions just long enough to double-check his heart rhythm and breathing.

"We've got a pulse. Let's get him inside, now."

They rolled the stretcher away, Shinobu barking orders and Kanae asking much nicer. They barreled through the large doors held open by two extra nurses, who watched the proceedings with wide, nervous eyes.

"Ohh," Amane's hands tangled in her white hair, twisting and tugging. It had all happened so fast.

"Mrs. Amane?" A gentle hand is laid on her shoulder. Murata.

"Yes, yes, I-"

Tears danced on her bottom lashes. They dripped down her cheeks, graceful as the rest of her, then fell to the ground soundlessly.

"I'm sorry." She choked out. She couldn't lose her composure. This was the job.

Murata's expression shifted to something sympathetic. "

"It's okay," He offered, and Amane choked back a sob. "It's okay," he echoed himself, and Amane curses. She had seen neglect cases before; they were practically her entire life now. Hybrids who had been abused, whipped, neglected, enslaved, and used for the most obscene desires. But those cries—they haunted her. The cry of a child yearning for a mother who was likely long gone.

She held the memory of her own children close to her chest.

"You asked me if I think he'll be okay," Murata suddenly interjects.

"Murata," her tone was, although thick with tears, stern nonetheless.

The man raised a placating hand.

"Look, I just. I think he'll make it. He's made it this long; he came back already. So, yeah, he'll live, even if he's not okay."

After all, with what he went through, there would be no shame if he were permanently feral.

"At the very least, we can make him comfortable, right?"

Amane sniffled, dabbing at her cheeks and eyes in vain as the tears kept coming.

"Right."

It took hours before one of the sisters finally emerged—a somber-looking Kanae. Her face was drawn and tired, but she mustered up a smile as Amane stood from her seat.

"He's stable. We're lucky you got to him when you did. If not, he likely would have succumbed to septic shock."

Amane paused with alarm.

"His infections were that far along?"

"Yes. We had to go in and remove some of the tissue from his left shoulder. He's in intensive care right now, with IV fluids to help maintain blood pressure," she glanced down at her clipboard, flipping through the pages. "We've put him on some strong antibiotics, some vasopressors for blood flow and pressure, some inotropic medicines to keep his heart pumping, and we've got him on oxygen support. Currently, he is breathing on his own. We just want to make sure he's getting enough oxygen to his organs."

She sighed, running a shaking hand through her uncharacteristically frazzled hair. Even her butterfly clip was askew.

"Right now, we're not looking at any major organ damage based on preliminary blood and urine tests. It looks like some of the… bacteria from the infected facial wound got into his right eye. We're looking at the beginning stages of endophthalmitis."

Amane stiffened. She wasn't overly familiar with the medical aspect of rehabilitation, but she knew enough.

"Will he… lose the eye?"

"We're not… currently looking at that option. We're going to try antibiotics first," she hesitated. "But with his delicate condition, it's possible. We've done our best to remove the infected tissue from his cheek and jaw, and we've sown up the rest. He'll need a liquid diet for the time being."

"What's the overall prognosis?"

"Right now? All things considered, his main area of concern is going to be those infections. As I mentioned, we cut out as much infected tissue as we reasonably can, but despite the scare he gave us, his organs look good. He's a fighter."

She looked up from her clipboard, lips pursed as she thought through her next words.

"If I can be… a little unprofessional…"

"Please."

"His chances are up in the air right now. A pin on the edge of a cliff. If he can get over this hurdle, however…"

"You think he has a chance?"

"I certainly won't be giving up on him," Kanae asserted. "And neither will Shinobu. She's still in there with him now."

"I trust that he's in capable hands," Amane's voice felt faint, cautious to hope. Especially here in the hospital ward, where so many poor souls had been lost to hate.

Kanae rested a hand on the woman's shoulder, massaging lightly.

"You got him out alive."

"Barely."

Kanae grimaced. It was never an easy job. She decided to shift the topic a little, to something that was relevant but hopefully lighter.

"And what of his… handler?"

"Officer Urokodaki took care of him. According to Murata, it got a little violent. I didn't really register it at the time, but I don't think he was conscious when he was going into the car."

The edges of Kanae's lips quirked upwards. "Good. It's less than he deserves."

"It's the most he'll likely get," the white-hared woman sighed. She leaned up against the white wall, suddenly feeling exhausted. "You know how they treat hybrids. How they treat us."

"I know," Kanae's smile died down, and she stared at her nails contemplatively, fidgeting. "I can only hope that, one day, humans and hybrids will coexist peacefully. Don't you hope so?"

Amane's eyes slipped shut, though the image of blood and bile and rot remained burned in her retinas.

"You know I do."

They did more than just rehabilitate the hybrids, after all. They were advocates; their voices when many had them stolen from them. It wasn't easy. They were barely staying afloat off of generous donations from other advocates and the Ubuyashiki's vast and seemingly endless wealth.

Kanae stared back at the doors, lips pursed.

"What if…" she started cautiously, "this wasn't the end for that vile man?"

Amane tiredly peered at the woman, eyebrows raised. "You know hybrid abuse is usually classified as a misdemeanor at best. If we're lucky and he has a bad lawyer, we could settle it as a class C felony."

"But the law can change! I mean, isn't that what we're fighting for? Change? A better world for hybrids, a day when they can stand side-by-side with us? I mean, numerous studies have proven that they have nearly identical brains to human beings and-"

Amane held up a hand to stop her.

"We don't have the backing for that kind of widespread political change, Kanae."

"Yet! What we need is publicity. A landmark case that will change the tide! The statistically ideal case being one that people can empathize with. Somone vulnerable…. like… a small child… with very distinctive injuries…" She trailed off suggestively.

"Kanae."

"Don't you want that man brought to justice? Don't you want change? I'm not saying we thrust him out there to the public alone."

"You were just telling me you weren't even sure he would survive."

"I know. I know," Kanae sighed, frustrated. "It's just… not fair. Seeing what that man did to him. It's awful. Horrifying, the extent of the damage. To a child. What if he gets out and does this again?"

Amane felt a slight throb above her brow, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. Kanae decided she needed to soften her approach, just a bit.

"It's ugly, vile even, to make a spectacle out of a child's abuse. But Amane," she grasped the woman's hands in her own, catching her mauve gaze.

"Even if he dies," Kanae paused as Amane flinched at the bitter sting of her words. "He'll turn eyes, and that's what we need. It's what they need. We could be saving lives from the fate he's suffered. He doesn't have to hurt for nothing."

Amane felt her skin crawl. The eyes of the media were hungry, a predator primed to prey on the vulnerable. On romance, the newest fab. On misery, the abused, the damned. And they loved a good comeback story.

Kanae twists the knife, her poison-coated words dripping with the sweet scent of wisteria. "We would be able to save them. We could crush those who crushed us and our hopes. We can punish the wicked men and women who preyed on them."

Amane's gaze flickered, a shadow of doubt passing her delicate features. She stared at the floor, as if searching for the answers there. When she looked up, Kanae found resolution.

"Okay," she squeezed Kanae's hands, who smiled back. "I'll… I'll make some calls. We'll need…" She grimaced, as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say. "Pictures. Photos of his injuries, the more gruesome, the better. And someone should… go back to the house. Take photos of his living conditions. If we're doing this… we're doing it right. So that no other bastard treats a hybrid like this and thinks he can get away with it."

She closed her eyes, breathed through her nose for a count.

"We'll make his suffering count."

Kanae nodded, determined. "I can get you plenty of photos. I assure you, even post op, the wounds are quite unsettling to see."

Amane stood, pulling out her phone.

"Good. I'll leave his recovery in your capable hands."

It started with a simple post on every social media platform they owned. She carefully selected pictures that were graphic, but not so graphic that they'd get taken down. Just edging the line of too much. Amane subtly pushed the story of the man's arrest and the photos of the boy toward their local media outlet and prayed it would catch their eyes.

And, as the numbers on the social media posts exploded, she had a feeling it would.

"Mrs. Amane!!"

A chipper voice called as its owner bumbled down the hallway, pushing past researchers and doctors, all to get to Amane, who was seated in her office. Decorated with pictures of her home, her children, and her sickly husband, it was overall quite cozy. The desks and walls were littered with lilac and wisteria, both fresh and dried.

Kanroji Mitsuri slammed the door open, breaking Amane's attention from her work. Scattered across her desk are dozens of reports of abuse and neglect of hybrids. It was her job to decide which case needed immediate attention and which could wait until a hybrid was reported dead or the abuse took a turn.

"Mrs. Amane!" She exclaimed, wide, unnaturally green eyes glittering. Her cute, but efficient work boots stomped on the floor in excitement as she dove for her boss. She swiped her phone from her pocket, practically throwing it in Amane's face. "You have to see what they're saying about the poor kitty!"

Amane's heart began to race, and she wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her skirt before taking the cutesy pink phone with the green cat sticker. Her eyes zeroed in on the article plastered across the screen, featuring the new hybrid they'd dubbed Genya.

The bulk of the story was focused on that man, Kyogo, and his crimes. Everything they could dig up on the man, from his long criminal history of aggravated assault, public indecency, public intoxication, and DUIs to his apparently messy divorce. It outlined how the man had adopted the little hybrid from a less-than-reputable breeder shortly after his wife and kids had left him.

She scrolled through the fluff, eyes landing on the section that detailed Genya's many extensive injuries. Her eyes caught on a snippet toward the bottom.

"Despite Shinazugawa's many repeated, and often heinous aggressions against the hybrid—who is estimated to be about 10-11 years of age—Shinazugawa is only looking at 16 months in prison. This dangerous man could soon be walking our streets again. How we treat animals and hybrids, the lowest and most vulnerable beings, is a reflection of a person's very soul.

If you want to change this outcome, you can call your local senators and talk to them about the passing of the HYBRID bill, a controversial set of legislation that's been passed around the House for years now. This revolutionary bill aims to give hybrids more protections, some of which would be on par with those of human beings."

She leaned back in her chair, exhaling shakily. "How many channels are running the story?"

"NHK, TBS, NTV, TVA, FTV, you name it! All the big stations are running it, party line be damned! Granted, not all of them are on our side, but it's still making national news! They're actually talking about him! It's become quite the hot-button debate topic."

Amane nodded, hope hesitantly unfurling.

"And any news on Genya? Has he… shown any signs of waking up?"

Kanroji's optimistic smile softened. Amane asked her the same question every time.

"Somewhat," the pink-haired woman took a seat opposite Amane's desk. "His levels aren't the greatest according to Dr. Kochou."

Amane briefly thought of asking which Kochou. Kanae tended to be optimistic, in contrast to Shinobu's sour pessimism. Instead, she just motioned for Mitsuri to continue.

"But, they are doing much better than before! They started him on some antibiotics, and the swelling and fever have gone down a whole lot! Even his eye looks less… pus-y." She crossed one leg over the other and fiddled with her green tights.

Amane intertwined her fingers, laying them on the desk as she mulled over the article and Kanroji's words. To many, this would be meager news, hardly anything to celebrate. The article had been in the right direction, but focused more on jailing Kyogo than actual hybrid rights, and Genya still hadn't woken up after a week. Still, to her, it was a breath of fresh air after drowning.

"Thank you, Kanroji," Amane tipped her head toward the woman, whose cheeks flushed at praise from such a beautiful woman.

"Of course! Did you want to see him for yourself?" Mitsuri smiled back.

"Mmm," She hummed, considering it. It was hard to keep the line firm between work and her personal life. Nearly impossible not to get emotionally attached to every hybrid that comes to them. Amane thought she had figured it out, but…

Those mewls… they haunted her waking nightmares.

"I think I'd like that," she rose from her seat, straightening out her skirt. Kanroji hopped from her chair as well, giddy. As Amane rounded the desk, Kanroji skipped over and linked their arms, touchy and overly informal as usual. But her energy was infectious. Exactly what was needed in such a somber line of work.

However, Amane felt her good mood come crashing down the moment they approached the medical wing where Genya was kept, as shouting reached their ears. That's all the warning they got before a panicked nurse burst through the doors, followed quickly by an irate and equally panicked Shinobu. When their eyes fell on Amane, they had different reactions; the Nurse paled further and Shinobu's fury rose.

"D-Director," the nurse, whom Amane dimly recognized as the new hire, stuttered. "I, uh, don't suppose you've seen a, uh. Hybrid? About… yae tall… f-feline… black fur…"

"What," Amane started, tone clipped and authoritative, "is happening here?"

Shinobu shoved the nurse aside. "To keep it short? Maeda here somehow managed to lose track of a badly wounded, sick, and very scared young hybrid, who is now loose and unaccounted for in the facility."

Amane's stomach clenched with dread.

"You don't mean…"

"It's exactly who you're thinking of."

"He's awake?"

"Apparently. We believe he woke up a few hours ago."

"Believe?"

Shinobu gritted her teeth. "Maeda was given one job. To watch the boy and alert us if anything changed in his condition. Instead, I came back to an empty room. Turns out, he shirked his rounds to go spy on the women's dressing room-"

"How was I supposed to know he was gonna wake up today?!"

"Maeda," Amane snapped. The man in question squeaked like the rodent he resembled. "You're fired. Effective immediately. Get out of my facility before I have you thrown out. Shinobu, I want everyone on high alert, right now."

Maeda scrambled out of their sight, tripping gracelessly and skidding around the corner. None of the women present paid him any attention.

Amane reached for her phone, pulling it from her back pocket. "I'll notify the security guards and have them shut down every entryway." She quickly scrolled until she found who she was looking for.

She dialed the number, phone to her ear as she turned to Shinobu. "We should check the security footage too."

Kanroji fretted silently, caught between the two angered women. "I-is there anything I can do?" She eeped, fidgeting in place.

"You can follow us." Shinobu beckoned her. "Chances are, we'll need to split up eventually to find him, and the more people to fan out, the better. Ideally, we'd have a team of security to catch him, but…" For such a small woman, she was quite fast on her feet. Mitsuri struggled to keep up and listen. "I worry how he might react to a large group of us, especially men. He's young, scared, and likely exhausted."

"I would be less worried if he were your average domestic cat hybrid," Amane added to Shinobu's rambling.

They took a sharp left turn, Amane fishing out a set of keys. Shinobu nodded grimly.

"If he were a domestic breed, he might have sought help. But a panther… Even the smallest creatures can turn deadly when cornered."

Mitsuri swallowed nervously, following the two women into the security office.

Thankfully, word traveled fast, and the security guard, Goto, was already ready for them. He tipped his head respectfully.

"I wasn't able to find him in an initial sweep of the perimeters, but I've rewound the tapes for the past three hours. Between the four of us, I think we can spot him."

"Right," Shinobu pulled up a chair to sit beside Goto, Amane, and Mitsuri, opting to just watch over their shoulders.

"We should start just outside the med-bay. He's probably running on pure adrenaline right now, so he won't last long on his feet. He's gonna be looking for somewhere safe and secluded to lick his wounds."

The guard obediently pulled up the footage and began to fast-forward through it. For a few minutes, nothing happened, the four watching the minutes in the top corner tick up until…

"There!" Mitsuri exclaims, manicured green nails tapping the screen over a small, dark blur. They slowed down the footage a bit, just enough to confirm that it is, in fact, the boy they're looking for. His one good eye glowed gold in the low lighting, despite Shinobu knowing the boy had violet eyes.

Even with his injuries, his movements were surprisingly smooth, meager muscles rolling beneath his skin with every careful step, exactly like you'd expect from a wild panther. His rounded ears swiveled this way and that, picking up on every sound as he paused in the doorway. His head tipped back as his tiny nose twitched, before he suddenly took off, scampering down the hallway.

"Follow him!"

The guard urgently flipped through the cameras, watching the boy advance through the facility. He was surprisingly stealthy, despite the multitude of bandages on his hands and shoulders. They watched, almost in awe, as the boy expertly jumped and climbed across equipment to avoid people, stalking. It was almost disturbing how many people cluelessly passed the predator, never knowing he was perched above them. It wasn't without great effort, however. They watched him stumble on a few landings where he has to use his hands, nearly collapsing face-first at one point.

But, as they continued to follow him, Mitsuri's alarm began to grow.

"He's heading toward the-the…"

"The special care unit," Shinbou finished dourly.

The special care unit was where they kept the more volatile hybrids. Usually, it consisted of those in the beginning stages of recovery, fresh from the fire and particularly distrusting of humans. But it also contained the ferals… those that never came back from the brink. They tended to need specialized enclosures, farther apart from each other, with plenty of hiding spaces and amenities. It was important to at least keep them comfortable.

They watched the boy through the camera, feeling helpless to stop him as he snuffled around the large, reinforced doors of the enclosures. The closer he got to the fork in the hallway, the more nervous they became.

"What are we doing? We need to get him!" Mitsuri can't take it anymore.

"Kanroji, look," Shinobu jabs a finger toward the clock in the corner. "This happened an hour ago. We need to see where he's gone from here. I'll send a unit that way, but we need to gauge more accurately where he is."

Mitsuri clutched her hands to her sternum, chewing her lip until it nearly bled. Dread curled at the edges of her mind.

"Don't turn right… don't turn right…"

As if the boy could hear her, his glowing golden eyes looked directly at the camera, ears pinned back, before the boy darted off to the right.

Mitsuri felt her knees give out, and she sank to the floor. She tried to reassure herself. He couldn't get inside the enclosures. He didn't have the correct clearance badge to clear any of the gates.

"He's the exact right size to fit through the feeding tubes, though," her mind supplied.

They clicked to the next camera, just in time to watch the end of a fuzzy, black tail disappear through the door to the feeding tube of one of the enclosures.

The room erupted into panicked movement.

"What enclosure was that?!"

"I-I think it said 23?"

"Sanemi's enclosure?"

Mitsuri's ears rang. If Genya had truly gone into that enclosure….

They wouldn't be pulling the boy out alive.

To say his body ached would have been an understatement.

Everything in him screamed with pain. The throbbing in his arms and legs was unbearable, like knives carving into his tender flesh. His eye throbbed, and his hands shook with pain. The last time he was awake, his eye had been glued shut by some smelly goop, but now it was held shut by something that smelled gross, but in a different way.

The loss of his depth perception and half of his peripheral vision left him feeling antsy and left him relying more on his sense of smell and hearing. His ears and nose seemed to be okay, mostly intact except for a small nick on his left ear.

He shook off the thoughts, leaping on a tall shelf to avoid a passing human. His legs thrummed with pain, but he gritted his teeth and bared it. If he were caught, the pain would surely only get worse. And he would do anything to make sure the hurt never came back.

He leapt down, biting through his bottom lip to suppress the cry of pain when he landed on his hands. His hands, which had been tightly balled by weird, white cloth. He couldn't even see the shape of his fingers, or his nails, or soft pawpads. But he could feel them, god was he ever aware of them, throbbing and aching so severely he could hardly stand it. He had tried to peel the cloth away with his teeth to look at them, but had given up quickly when that had only made the pain worse.

Genya's ears swiveled toward the sound of voices, neck snapping in that direction. His lone, violet eye searched desperately for an escape, a way out. He spotted a tube. It wasn't the biggest, but neither was he.

"There-!" a sharp voice called out, and Genya's heart leaped to his throat. He moved on instinct, scrambling inside, his little legs kicking him forward. His chin knocked against the hard metal, sending shockwaves through his skull.

When he finally squeezed through, he landed onto something soft and ticklish. He blinked his one eye open, inspecting the weird… green stuff that coated the ground. It was nothing like the dirty, splintered floor of his room. His mind swam from the pain and exhaustion, and his body trembled so far that he found it hard to remain steady.

He twitched his nose, snuffling at the fresh air, which smelt like the rain that would sometimes blow in from the window before it had been nailed shut. And the room was a comfortable temperature, warm but not sweltering, settling the chill that had wracked his body.

His head swiveled back and forth, taking in his surroundings. Towering brown things with more green on top crowded the space, some long and straight, and others curved, and draped in hanging greenery. He pushed himself to his feet, digging his teeth into his bottom lip to stifle his cry of pain.

His daddy had taught him not to scream.

Genya finds himself lost in the beauty of it all, gaping openly. So lost in his surroundings that he missed the shifting of something large. It shifted silently and smoothly through the foliage, violet eyes trained on the intruder.

All Sanemi had ever known was the sharp burn of battle. From the moment he had been born, he had been thrust into the flame, molded into the perfect fighter.

Born into an illegal hybrid fighting ring, he had been selectively bred for the hunt. From the moment he could walk, he was put to the test. His life had been an endless blur of blood and teeth and torn fur, tossed from one opponent to the next. Each kill meant food in his belly and hopefully some decent rest.

It was all he had ever known.

Until that day, when the ring had been filled with the screams of humans and blue and red flashing lights. One by one, they had been dragged from their cramped cages, handled by men in uniforms, and then stuffed in new cages. It was all the same to Sanemi.

Sanemi lounged in one of the sunbeams that broke through his enclosure's reinforced glass ceiling. His tail thwapped the ground in discontent.

He hated this. This… game the humans were playing with him. Pretending they were helping him by sticking him in another cage, no matter how large they made it. He hated the wait for the other shoe to drop.

Though he had a feeling it would be soon, the humans seemed to be getting the hint that he refused to play along. They still endlessly poked and prodded him, asking their asinine questions, egging him to take part in their "rehabilitation". As if.

They thought he couldn't hear them, or worse, couldn't understand the way they talked about him, muttering about "alternatives" on what to do with him.

He scoffed. These humans were no different than the last. They just wanted him to do a different dance for them.

His ears swiveled, twitching toward the entrance as he heard the creak of the feeding panel door opening.

Strange. Normally, the second feeding time was when the sun was a little higher in the sky.

But then… he heard the softest pitter-patter of tiny, padded feet. Imperceptible to human ears, nothing escaped Sanemi's superior senses. He stood, intrigued, and silently crept toward the front of his enclosure. His lip curled with distaste as he picked up the foul stench of antiseptic and medicine.

Slit, violet eyes narrowed in on the small target, and his prowling stilled as he realized what he was looking at.

A kitten.

Not that it mattered. An intruder was still an intruder, no matter what, and he would not tolerate the presence of another in his territory. Still, he wasn't completely unreasonable. He would give it the chance to run.

He waited for the kitten to move before he pounced, his dark shadow looming over it as he landed just in front of it. His back arched to make his already impressive frame larger, and let the air bubble up through his lungs, building in his vocal cords and rumbling over the stiff folds.

He unleashed a bone-shaking roar, inches from the kitten's face, flashing two and a half-inch-long canines, and dug his claws into the ground, scoring the earth. His puffed-up tail lashed like a striking snake.

He expected the kitten to tuck its tail, run, cry, whine, or maybe even piss itself. He'd seen it all before. He was sure the humans would come running soon.

And, in a way, he got the response he wanted. Big, fat tears welled up in its unbandaged eye (it was then that he noticed all the bandages covering the thing), and it trembled like a leaf in a storm.

But then, the kitten took a deep breath, puffing up its tiny chest, and with all its might,

He roared back.

It was a pitiful excuse of a roar, broken and squeaky. The kitten couldn't even fully open his mouth, not without opening the gash in his cheek, hidden beneath even more bandages.

And yet, the sound shook Sanemi to his core, the tiger hybrid's eyes widening and fur lying flat with surprise.

He's smarter than he looks, Sanemi mused. He watched that small chest expand again, hitching with pain, before the panther hybrid released another roar. If you could even call it that. It was more of a yowl than a true roar.

The smaller hybrid had clearly realized it was futile to run away. That the best way to get rid of a predator was to make yourself not worth the struggle. Though this strategy had never worked for Genya's Master. No, with father, it was always best to play dead. His owner may have hated him, but he also loved him just enough to always keep him alive, hating the silence of an empty house far more.

But this was not Master, though the fear he felt towards it was the same. Running meant turning his back on the predator, and that was out of the question. He could play dead, but he couldn't be sure that this hybrid wasn't on the hunt.

So, he puffed the fur on his head and tail and arched his back, standing on his tippy toes to make himself as big as possible. On reflex, he tried to extend his claws and had to bite back a cry of pain, fresh blood seeping through the thick bandages on his hands.

Memories played behind his eyes. Bloody pliers, a hammer, a large hand pinning him to the table until it all went dark.

His breathing sped up, tears coming faster. Helpless, he was helpless if this other hybrid were to actually attack. He was so tired. When did he get to rest?

To both hybrids' surprise, Sanemi draws back. The tiger's tail swished contemplatively, and he positioned his hands beneath himself, taking an almost demure stance. He lowered his head, muscles relaxing as a low, rumbling chuff leaves his throat, and his claws retracted.

After a moment, he leaned forward, nose twitching curiously. Beneath the medicinal stench, there was something else. The milky scent of youth and something…

The boy doesn't take the approach well, leaping forward and snapping his jaws just inches from the larger hybrid's lowered head. Sanemi simply chuffed again, amused this time, as he lifted a hand and proceeded to knock the boy flat with one swipe.

With a yelp, Genya collapsed in a heap. A surprisingly vicious growl clawed its way from his throat a moment later, the crumpled hybrid scrambling to get to his feet once again. Sanemi chuffed again, then flopped over on his side. He almost couldn't believe what he was doing, exposing his vulnerable belly like this, but for some reason…

He didn't want to scare the child.

The boy's ears, which had been laid flat against his head with fear, flicked upwards. His once thrashing tail curled around his legs defensively as he tilted his head, confused and angry about it. The tiger continued to chuff, each more purposeful than the last as he stretched languidly.

Cautiously, the panther shuffled forward an inch, sniffing curiously. His eye flicked from the tiger's relaxed posture to his calm gaze.

After another moment of their silent stare down, the tiger hybrid rolled back onto his feet, prowling closer, much to the younger hybrid's dismay. The panther puffed back up defensively, head turning to follow the now circling tiger. He stiffened as the tiger pushed into his space, holding his breath as he waited for the killing blow.

It doesn't come.

Instead, the tiger's forehead bumped against Genya's, gentle but with just enough force to almost topple the kitten. He let out a small squeak, bandaged hands flying up to cover the spot. The tiger chuffed, sitting down in the grass in front of him.

Genya stared, wide-eyed, up at the much larger hybrid, jaw working soundlessly. He meant to muster up another warning growl, but could only come up with a strange, chittering noise. The tiger's pupils expanded, and he lowered his head, making a low, rumbling sound deep within his chest. Not a roar… more of a grumble. A sound he had never made before, a friendly greeting sound amongst tigers.

He butted his forehead against Genya's once more, lingering for a few moments.

Genya exhaled shakily, trembling in place. But, after a moment, he decided to take a chance, a leap of faith, pressing back against the tiger. He closed his eye, and his tremors slowly subsided.

Finally, the tiger pulled away, glancing toward the door of his enclosure, only a few feet away from the pair. He didn't know why or how the kitten had managed to get here, but he had a feeling someone would be coming for him. Out in the open like this, they were vulnerable.

So, he used a hand to paw at the little panther, herding him toward the trees. A sound left his throat, a crooning meow that he's never made in his life. It surprised them both, but the boy answered with a mewl of his own, going along with the prodding. He stared up at Sanemi, something like awe beginning to replace the fear in his eye.

Sanemi beckoned the kitten deeper into the enclosure, throwing a nasty glare back at the door. He had hunted down and destroyed every camera he found in his habitat, so if the humans dared to step into his territory, they would be going in blind.

As they approached his den, it suddenly dawned on Sanemi just what he had done.

What was he going to do with a battered kitten?

He eyed the boy out of the corner of his eyes, internally cringing at the sheer amount of bandages. This close, he could make out the smell of sickness beneath the stench of antiseptic. Not to mention, he didn't care for the company of others even on his best of days, much less having a kitten in his den.

But, as if he could sense his stare, those rounded ears twitched, and the boy blinked up at him, a hesitant smile breaking free.

And Sanemi realized it didn't matter. It didn't matter what the universe dished out for him, as long as he could protect that smile.

Mitsuri did her best to pull herself together as she led the way to Sanemi's enclosure, a plethora of armed, trained guards trailing behind her.

It had been an hour since Genya had entered that enclosure, and an additional 15 minutes since they realized he was in there. By now, it was guaranteed that Sanemi would have found the little intruder.

Images flashed through her mind of the bodies they had recovered from the fighting ring Sanemi had come from. Of the hybrids and humans that had died by Sanemi's hand. He was ruthless when it came to other hybrids. He tore them to pieces, using nothing but his bare hands and teeth, limbs broken and askew.

Mitsuri choked back another sob, her mind unwillingly superimposing Genya over those images. Because of their negligence….

"Remember," Amane's voice breaks through the grim atmosphere, even but flat. "Lethal force is only to be used as a last resort. Our goal is retrieval—we want to recover as much as possible."

God, what a nightmare, Amane thought. What would the press say if this got out? She had gone out on a limb and risked that child's well-being for change, and now even that may be ruined.

The procession paused outside a large, reinforced steel door. Rengoku Kyojuro, the head of the guard, stepped forward, undoing the heavy latch while Amane scanned her key card. It lit up green, the secondary lock whirring.

The second the door swung open, guards rushed inside, and Amane braced herself for the worst. For the roars of an enraged hybrid, for the sure-to-come struggle.

Only… nothing happened. The guards fanned out near the entrance, but didn't dare pass the treeline without orders, tranquilizer guns loaded and ready. The secondary unit crept inside after, armed with standard guns.

Amane held out a hand.

"Hold."

Rengoku signaled for his men to pause, looking to Amane.

"Something's off here."

Amane's gaze swept across the large habitat, one of their most elaborate. The eerie silence prickled her skin, jabbing like needles as she continued to scan the surroundings. They had to be careful; Sanemi was one of their stealthiest hybrids.

"Stay here."

She lowered her hand and made a decision she would have reamed anyone else for.

She advanced further into the enclosure, alone.

"M-Mrs. Amane!" Kanroji shrieked from the doorway. But Amane paid her no heed, creeping toward the treeline, only to be halted by a hand grabbing her arm.

"Mrs. Amane," Rengoku snapped. His normally joyful and warm tone was absent, weighted and sharp. "I can't let you go in there. I urge you to reconsider."

"And I urge you to remember that this is my facility. Mine and my husband's life's work. I understand your position, but I know what I'm doing, the risk I'm taking. Please, trust me on this." When had she gotten so attached? She hadn't been this personally invested since she had found those twin cubs a few years back.

Rengoku's grip loosened before his hand fell away. Amane looked toward where she knew the tiger's den lay. With one last deep breath, she stepped through the treeline and crept through the underbrush.

The den soon came into view, and she froze when she heard it: that deep rumble. A warning sound.

"Ah," she searched for him, catching only a glimpse of white, striped fur. "There he is."

She caught a glint of teeth and raised her hands, palms facing out to show she held no weapons.

"We're just here for the kitten. Nothing more, nothing less.

Her eyes adjusted to the low light, allowing her to see the sneer on the tiger hybrid's face. His tail thwapped unhappily against the ground, but he didn't say a word. Not that Amane expected him to. Sanemi had never spoken a word in all the time he had been here.

But then, something at his side shifted, and her eyes automatically zeroed in on the movement. She locks gazes with a single, wide, violet eye. She had to physically stop herself from openly gaping at the sight.

"You… you didn't… kill him," she breathed. A disbelieving laugh slipped out. "He's alive!"

The tiger scoffed, using one hand to press the kitten further into his side, earning a small squeak of protest. The child wiggled, getting comfortable and stuffing his face against the tiger's side, chittering.

Amane shuffled backwards a few steps, eyes wide. She turned her head just enough to see her men through the trees, but not enough that she couldn't see the tiger if he moved.

The situation had changed.

Not only were their chances of safely recovering the kitten slim to none, but she was unsure if it was wise even to attempt to do so. She had never seen the surly Sanemi protect anything that wasn't himself.

And then Genya… the kitten that had been comatose just a few days ago… that had been tortured, now peacefully curled up next to the Tiger, at ease.

"Mrs. Amane?" Mitsuri called out.

Although she wanted to practically jump for joy, Amane settled for an even shuffle away from the den. She made sure to never turn her back on the hybrid, and Sanemi in turn never looked away from her.

"We need to reconvene, outside, now."

Slowly, the guards trickled out of the room like a stream, weapons still poised to tranquilize or kill, until Amane stepped out, hands still raised. Kanroji rushed forward as soon as she cleared the threshold, slamming the door shut. Her hands fumbled for the iron latch, slotting it down to secure it shut.

"Ms. Kanroji!" Amane gasped, surprised. Mitsuri's pale green eyes flew to the woman, wild. Her manicured pink eyebrows are drawn, her expression one of anger. Amane had never seen such an expression on the woman's face, especially directed toward her.

"What were you thinking?! He could have torn you to pieces!"

"She's right," Kyojuro added, just as unhappy as the now feverishly nodding Mitsuri. "If he had attacked you, there's nothing we would have been able to do to stop him from seriously injuring or even killing you."

"I'm well aware," Amane said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "And I'll have you all remember who is in charge here. I'm sorry that I worried you, but risks needed to be taken. If I had let your men charge in there, there's no doubt he would have attacked."

Kanroji and Kyojuro shared a look, but backed off. Amane cleared her throat.

"Just now, we've discovered a breakthrough," Amane set her gaze on the locked door and the triple-paneled window panel; the only way to observe the hybrid without stepping into the enclosure after he'd destroyed all of the cameras.

"Sanemi has been here for three years, and in all that time, we've never been able to get through to him. His aggression extends from humans to hybrids, to the point we've had to seriously discuss euthanasia. But today… He's not only allowed another hybrid into his territory, but into his den. We have to see where this goes. This could be tremendous."

Rengoku's thick brows furrowed.

"You don't mean-"

"He's alive?!" Mitsure interrupted.

"Yes!" Amane allowed herself the moment of excitement, the discomposure. "He's more than just alive; Sanemi's taken with him!"

Mitsuri gasped, hands flying to her mouth.

"Sanemi? Our Sanemi?"

Amane nodded eagerly. "Yes! This could be… exactly the kind of breakthrough we need! For both of them."

"I hate to bring down the mood," they all paused as Shinobu joined them from down the hallway. "But how are we supposed to treat Genya if he's unreachable?"

They all froze at that, excitement souring. Amane bit her lip.

"We have to… iron out a few kinks… but this is our best shot at rehabilitating both of them!"

Shinobu crossed her arms. "Kinks that need to be ironed out post-haste. While he's had his daily antibiotics today, he can't miss even a single dose lest we risk him backsliding. His bandages need changing, his hands still need reconstructive surgery—not that we've been able to find a specialist willing to work on a hybrid. He's a long way from being able to be on his own."

"Shinobu, I know it's a risk, but it's one we have to take."

Shinobu's lips twisted into a grimace, her anger and exasperation apparent.

"We have to start making plans now," Shinobu's gaze sank to stare at her flats. "We have to make sure everyone is safe, not just them. But us. I will do everything in my power to ensure Genya is taken care of, but I will not risk Kanae's or my life."

"Of course," Amane nodded. "I would never ask that of you. "Come, let us go devise a plan." She ghosted her hand over Shinobu's back, prodding her toward her office. Rengoku dismissed the guards, and they dispersed back to their posts as he and Mitsuri followed the two women.

Sanemi huffed as the humans finally left. He had the feeling they'd be back soon.

The one with the white hair had inched backwards out of his den, as if her gaze alone would stop him if he decided to attack.

Pointless.

It was all so futile. None of this mattered.

They had swapped out his cold, cramped cage for a new, fancier one.

Shinobu sighed, crossing her arms as Kanae ducked into the room. They had called for her shortly after arriving, realizing this discussion needed to have both of Genya's caregivers present. (They weren't considered doctors, at least, not officially. Although hybrids were mostly human by anatomy, doctors turned their nose up at the idea of being lumped in with hybrid specialists.)

"So? What are we supposed to do?" Shinobu barely gave Kanae time to get settled before starting up again. "We can't risk trying to sedate Sanemi every day, lest we end up getting someone hurt, or one of the hybrids hurt."

Amane leaned her hip against her desk.

"And what about different methods of drugging? Could we lace his food or water?"

Kanae immediately shook her head.

"He's too smart for that to work more than once. Assuming he doesn't figure us out immediately, it wouldn't take him too long to put together that we're drugging his food and water. And then we'll break what very little trust we've managed to amass with him. We could risk him refusing all food and drink from us. It's not the worst idea if we were talking about an actual animal here, but…"

"Right, of course," Amane sighed. Then, she paused. "Of course… We've been treating him like an animal… but you've said yourself that hybrids are more human than we give them credit for! Instead of some… scheme, why don't we try to open a dialogue with him!"

Mitsuri interjected this time.

"We've tried talking to him before. He's not exactly the best conversationalist."

"If by that you mean, "attempted to maul anyone and everyone that came near him," then yes, I agree," Shinobu sighed.

"But this is different," Amane insisted. "This is different behavior than we've ever seen from him before. Instead of attacking, Sanemi nurtured. Whatever… affection he seems to have for Genya… we can use that to get through to him!"

"And whose life do you plan to risk for this?"

"I'm sure that I could be of use," a chipper, masculine voice called. All eyes landed on the sunny man.

Kyojurou Rengoku, the spitting image of his once-renowned father, but without the stink of alcohol and the bitter look of hopeless defeat and rage.

"Helping hybrids.. It's what my family has done for generations," he continued. He paused at the following silence, awed yet strained. The Rengoku lineage was both that of fame and scrutiny, depending on how you viewed hybrids. But regardless of where they stood, both sides could agree that the Rengoku dynasty had suffered a fatal blow with the fall of Shinjurou Rengoku.

"Kyojuro," Mitsuri stepped in front of the man, one of her oldest friends, worrying at her bubblegum pink lips. "I know you want to honor your family's legacy… b-but Sanemi almost killed you last time you were face to face."

As that, the man guffawed, deep and hearty. "He might've gotten the jump on me." There were five perfect gashes, from his right shoulder blade at the way down to his left hip to prove it. "But he did not nearly kill me. And he won't, especially now, because Lady Ubuyashiki is right."

There was a gleam to his fiery golden eyes.

"He has something to protect now. Before, he had nothing to lose, but now, I have an in."

He turned his fiery gaze toward Amane.

"You truly believe this could save both of them, yes?"

Amane set her jaw, nodding firmly.

"I saw him. The same hybrid that won't let anyone even breathe near his enclosure curled around the sleeping cub. He didn't even attack me, for fear of disturbing him."

"Then I will do everything in my power to make this work," Rengoku smiled, crossing his arms with an enthusiastic laugh. "What's the worst that could happen, after all?! I get another cat scratch?"

Shinobu pursed her lips, agitated.

"The worst case is that-"

Kanae elbowed her.

"It's worth a shot," Kanae interrupted. "I like our chances with this plan."

"Nee-san!" Shinobu cried. "This is dangerous for everyone! There's a lot more on the line than just Rengoku getting scratched!"

"We understand your concern, Shinobu. But unless you can offer an alternative…" Amane hated to brush off the doctor's concerns, knowing her fear was more than valid. But they had to do something.

Shinobu grumbled beneath her breath, pride larger than her small frame can contain. But she offered up no further protests.

An uneasy silence fell over them, a silent, unanimous agreement to try.

Amane was beyond grateful for Kyojuro's help, but did not have the words to properly thank him. How did one congratulate someone for putting their life on the line? It was something they all did… but this was different.

"The Rengoku's and their wax wings," Amane mused internally. She could only hope that, unlike his father, Kyojuro wouldn't fly too close to the sun.

"We'll need to start making plans, then," Amane beckoned them to gather around her desk.

Soft kitten snores drifted up from the small, twitchy frame. A white tail curled over the body, intertwining with the boy's black tail.

Sanemi rested his chin on his palm, curved claws digging into the soft flesh of his cheek. It's not enough to draw blood, but it is a reminder to himself that he needs to be gentle with the cub.

A white, fluffy ear twitched toward the entrance. He could hear the hushed whispers of the humans outside his enclosure. They were trying to be quiet, but he could make out the occasional word here and there. Something about himself, the kitten, and danger, risky.

He rolled his eyes. Humans were profoundly stupid. Proper prey should tuck their tail and leave well enough alone, yet they kept throwing themselves at him.

The kitten mewled in his sleep, dotty eyebrows furrowing. His voice cracked with pain, and he shoved his face against his side. Sanemi chuffed in return but received no reply, no indication the kitten had heard him.

Sanemi's ears flattened with agitation.

The kitten had spent nearly the entire time in his den asleep. Worse yet, he had become feverish.

The acrid scent of sickness radiated from the tiny body next to him, familiar in the worst kind of way. He had seen some of the strongest fighters in the arena brought to their knees by the unseen enemy.

The door swung open, and Sanemi's thoughts scattered in the hurricane of his emotions. So many intruders in his den in such a short time. The kitten he had let slide, but the damn humans. They hadn't invaded his space this much since he had mauled that fiery-headed idiot.

Speaking of…

Slitted violet eyes flicked to the side, meeting the red-gold irises of said idiot. The man clearly hadn't learned his lesson, as evidenced by the way he stepped up to his den, head held high, fearlessly.

Sanemi's upper lip curled with distaste, exposing his dagger-like fangs. He raised his head from where it was leaning against his palm, curling his fingers to extend his thick claws. His chest rumbled with a fierce growl, thick with warning.

The idiot at least had the sense to stop his advance, holding up his hands to show that he had come unarmed. Sanemi knew that help lay just outside his door, however.

"I only came to talk."

The tiger's tail lashed, the only indication that he had even heard Rengoku. The human cleared his throat awkwardly.

"You probably already know why I'm here. But you should know that we don't want to take him from you. We just want… to compromise. There's no doubt that you've noticed that the cub is quite sick and injured. He's battling a severe infection. Which means he needs daily and regular intravenous antibiotics. Not to mention the shots for his eyes. His last injection was yesterday, so he's past due for his next dose, which is why he's getting worse."

Rengoku nodded toward the little hybrid, and Sanemi snarled, tucking the boy out of sight.

"Without medicine," Rengoku continued, "there's a very high chance he'll die, eventually. Even if he survives the infections, there's a good chance he'll lose that eye. And his hands won't be functional without reconstructive surgery. Even then… he'll never be able to use the claws in his hands again."

Sanemi's snarling grew in volume, his anger, his helplessness, rising with each word.

"However… if we can administer care, once a day, every day, we think his survival chances look pretty good. He's a fighter. He would remain with you—we believe having you nearby would be good for him, developmentally."

The tiger stilled, then rolled his shoulders in a way that made the onlooking humans' breaths hitch. But Kyojuro stood tall and strong, despite the way his back ached along the old wounds.

The hybrid stood, imposingly tall on two legs.

At the door, Shinobu tensed, turning to give an order to the guards, before Amane raised a hand to halt them.

The tiger dipped back down onto all fours, landing delicately in the grass. He circled, revealing the small, sleeping hybrid, and sat on his haunches. His violet eyes gleamed in the darkness.

"I think this is as close to permission as we're going to get."

Rengoku's thumb pressed into his walkie-talkie, which was clasped to a strap that ran from his shoulder to his hip. On his hip, beneath his shirt, rested a pistol, loaded with six tranquilizers in the barrel, each one strong enough to knock out an elephant.

The walkie-talkie screamed its static for a moment before Shinobu's voice, muddled, came through from the other end.

"Are you sure?"

Rengoku grimaced. "As sure as I can be."

A beat.

"Alright, but you know the drill. If this goes wrong, terribly, horrible wrong… you know what will have to happen."

"It won't," he replied, the flame of his soul flickered. "No one will die today. Least of all any hybrids."

From his den, Sanemi huffed at the words.

The sound of locks unclicking and the bar on the door being lifted is heard before the large doors open with a hiss. A team of humans trickled in in groups.

First, the security guards, with large tranquilizing guns and long-range tasers.

Then, the care specialists, Shinobu and Kanae, with their neatly clipped butterfly pins and a cart of supplies.

Finally, the men in thick tactical gear, carrying even bigger guns, flipped to safety for the time being, but not put away.

Sanemi's tail thrashed, snarling with his whole chest.

Kanae turned toward the security personnel, stepping out in front.

"Don't come any closer," she ordered.

"But-"

"We are in his territory, unfortunately," Shinobu cut the guard off, aiding Kanae. "We are the invading party here and want to be as non-threatening as possible."

Kanae eyed the glinting guns and tasers.

"Those won't help."

One of the men, the acting head of security in Rengoku's place, shook his head.

"They're non-negotiable. We'll try to stay out of your way, but the weapons stay. It's for your safety."

Sanemi's eyes narrowed, pupils constricting into slits as the growls grow in volume. Shinobu tried to avoid direct eye contact as she turned toward the tiger.

"Fine. Stay where you are. You'll know if we need you."

Kanae clutched her med bag to her chest, exhaling as she took the first step closer. She trusted Shinobu to watch her back and trained all her focus on the kitten, curled just a few feet away from the larger hybrid. She knelt in the grass beside him, ignoring the way the tiger's growls grew in volume. She softly rested the back of her hand against his forehead, pushing back his sweat-soaked hair.

"Alright," she breathed, then slowly looked up at the tiger with a kind smile. "I'm gonna walk you through everything we're doing, okay?"

Sanemi's nose scrunched with confusion, but Kanae just barreled on.

"First, I need to reinsert his PICC line. It's a long, flexible tube that we'll insert into his upper arm and thread into a large vein near his heart. This is so we can administer the intravenous drugs multiple times without having to stick him with a needle every day. By the looks of it… the CV catheter is still in, we just need to reconnect the line…"

She delicately lifted the hybrid's thin arm, turning it to show the small tube sticking out of his skin to the tiger. Sanemi huffed through his nostrils, feigning indifference.

"So now…" she mumbled as she set to work. Once she was sure the PICC line was in correctly, she scrubbed the port and flushed the line with saline. Then, she administered the medicine before flushing the line once more. "… and there we go! First step done. Now… we need to check on his eye. The infection there has just about run its course, but we want to keep giving antibiotics just in case!"

She gently undid the bandages, lifting the little patch covering his bad eye. With her thumb and forefinger, she pulled on his upper and lower eyelids.

Unlike when the boy was first brought in, the eye was mostly clear, the redness was almost completely gone, and the milky fluid that had once covered his iris was gone. Kanae smiled with visible relief.

"No visible further damage to his eye. I think once this vial runs out, we can officially take these bandages off his eye."

With that, she pulled a small, thin needle out, some numbing eye drops, and an antiseptic solution.

"Now, this will look… painful, but it'll be reeaal quick! And with these drops, he'll barely even feel a pinch!"

Ideally, they'd have an eye specialist to do this, but there were very few willing to work with hybrids, especially potentially volatile hybrids.

Kanae squeezed the drops into his eye and handed the needle off to Shinobu while she held the boy's eye open. Shinobu spared one last glance at Sanemi before focusing on the task at hand. Despite her nerves, her hand was steady as she slid the needle into the side of his eye.

There was only the softest of squeaks as the needle went in, but it was over before Sanemi could even muster a growl.

"There," Shinobu sighed, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead after disposing of the needle. Kanae sat on the opposite side of the sleeping cub, her smile beaming and eyes alight.

"We did it, Shinobu!" She chirped, pumping a fist excitedly. The adrenaline that rushed through her veins was like a drug, numbing her to the fear of being mauled.

"Tremendous," the head of security intoned from a few feet away. "Now get the hell out of there before Sanemi changes his mind about letting you live!"

The sisters' heads swiveled toward the tiger in sync, taking in his tense expression. His narrowed eyes don't even blink, barely even daring to breathe as he stares down the pair.

Shinobu dared to scoff, tipping her head sarcastically.

"See? We're not all so bad," Shinobu drawled.

Sanemi's eyes widened with indignation, chest rumbling. Rengoku, who had been standing off to the side, chortled.

"Okay, definitely time to go!" The guard snapped at the trio. The sisters heeded his call, gathering their supplies and neatly putting them away. They both glanced back at the sleeping cub one last time before they shuffled to their feet.

"See, I told you!" Kanae bumped her sister's shoulder once they were a safe distance away. "He's a fighter."

Shinobu huffed.

"I never said he wasn't."

"You're too pessimistic."

"I'm realistic."

"Eh, to-may-to, to-mah-to."

"Nee-san…!" Shinobu growled, and Kanae giggled in response, reaching out to pinch Shinobu's cheek, tugging the flesh upward.

"Now, now! Don't lose that smile I love so much!"

"You're so annoying," Shinobu groaned, despite the way her lips tugged upward against her will. By then, they were past the treeline and had turned their backs on Sanemi. Something Shinobu would normally consider unwise, but it was their turn to show their trust, to treat Sanemi as more than an animal.

Shinobu paused just outside the door as a thought crossed her mind.

"Nee-san?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think… they'll be like us?"

"What do you mean?" Kanae questioned. She looked over her shoulder, squinting past the treeline. She could just barely make out the shadow of Sanemi, curled protectively over the kitten.

Shinobu shrugged. "Nothing, never mind."

"I think they'll heal each other in many ways," Kanae brushed her hand against her sister's arm soothingly. The door to the enclosure slammed behind them. "And I think in time they will come to love each other, and that love will keep them alive."

Genya had never felt so light before.

As long as he could remember, he had always felt heavy and achy. In his loneliest moments, when his owner left him alone, he often wondered if he could escape the heaviness of his body. That if he let go, he could shed the skin and bones that weighed him down.

But, for the first time in what he could remember, he felt… light. So airy and fuzzy that for a moment, he wondered if he really had become untethered from his body.

Black, feline legs kicked out, stretching until each toe bean spread, back claws unsheathing. The pleasant grounded him.

A lone eye popped open, then squinted shut again as the light hit him all at once. He peered out a moment later, taking in the lush greenery that lay before him. He inhaled sharply in surprise at the burst of color, fresh, clean air drifting over his tongue.

He rolled onto his tummy, attempting to push himself up, only to collapse face-first into the soft dirt when he put pressure on his still-injured hands. He lay there, stunned for a second, with his nose smooshed against the ground.

His head popped up, grimacing as he splayed his arms out to inspect his hands, still cocooned in thick bandages. Vague memories danced behind his eyes—of waking up in a strange, white room full of screeching machines, alone and scared. Of trying to find a safe place, of flashing teeth and black stripes against white fur.

Tucking his legs beneath himself, Genya struggled to sit up without using his hands. His head swiveled back and forth, inspecting the room he was in.

It was large, larger than his bedroom had been, decorated with plush furs and animal bones. His ears twitched, picking up a soft burbling noise toward the back. There was a small pool of water toward the back, water trickling from a hole in the wall.

He swallowed dryly, shuffling toward it as he realized just how thirsty he was. As graceful as a newborn, he dunked his head under the water, gulping down mouthfuls. He came up for air, then repeated the process, guzzling water until his tummy sloshed whenever he moved.

Once he'd finally had his fill, he set about inspecting this new space. Awkwardly crawling toward the nearest wall, the kitten cocked his head as he caught sight of the gashes in the rocky siding. Curiously, his tail swished, kicking up dirt and dust which tickled his nose.

"Achoo!"

He shook his head to clear his senses, so engrossed in that he didn't notice the soft thud of footsteps until a throaty chuff drew his attention.

His head whipped toward the entrance, causing the room to spin. The tiger hybrid simply chuffed again.

"Mrrp?" Genya chirped back, without meaning to.

There was a wet thud as Sanemi dropped the slab of meat he'd been holding. Genya zeroed in on the movement, mouth watering as the alluring scent of fresh meat wafted up. The scent of blood had never been so appetizing before.

His belly grumbled loudly, and he shuffled towards it, then paused, eyeing the tiger cautiously. The white hybrid simply plopped down, sitting cross-legged with his arms propped on his knees. He tipped his head toward the meat invitingly.

That was all the encouragement Genya needed before he lunged for it, sinking his chunky fangs into the tender flesh.

He shook his head as he struggled to tear the meat apart, his jaw strength weakened by the injury in his cheek. His bandaged, clawless hands are of no use either. He growled viciously, frustration mounting as he chewed and gnawed on the meat.

Finally, he managed to tear loose a good chunk, and his tail flicked in satisfaction. This was the best meat he'd ever had, still warm with fresh blood. Nothing at all like the half-rotten scraps his owner would toss his way when he remembered to feed him.

He was reminded of the Tiger's presence as the older hybrid flopped onto his side, head held up by his propped arm. He looked… amused? Genya shrugged it off, diving back in for more meat.

He ate as much as he could stomach, amounting to about five or so mouthfuls of meat. He licked his lips, then licked the bandages on his hands, now stained red.

He felt… heavy again… but in a different kind of way. Heavy with food, heavy with a strange emotion, heavy like he should curl up right there and bask. But his burning curiosity overrode this unfamiliar urge.

Genya peered at the other hybrid with a bit of awe, now that the fear had passed. He had never seen another hybrid before. At least, not that he could remember.

He scooted toward the huge tiger, sniffling loudly. He smelled… unique. Like the blood from the meat he had just eaten, like the green stuff outside, like the wind.

His tail flicked upwards, the tip curling like a question mark. The tiger lazily opened one eye, watching the kitten hesitate, just out of reach. He huffed, rolling over to flop on his back and stare at the ceiling.

The kitten jumped at the sudden movement, eyes wide. But the tiger simply folded his hands on top of his chest.

Genya gawked at the larger hybrid. He blinked, once, twice, then craned his neck to peer at the hybrid's face. Sanemi spared the panther a glance, then went back to ignoring him.

Genya tiptoed toward the tiger once he thought it was safe, awkwardly waddling on his hind legs. It's not that he couldn't walk on two legs, but that his owner had never let him.

He plopped down on the floor next to Sanemi, his one good eye opened wide. This other hybrid was so huge, imposing even when he was sprawled on the ground. Arms threaded with thick muscle, skin covered in a myriad of scars, littering his chest and arms.

He lifted a hand, reaching out to touch a particularly gnarly scar, when the large hybrid shifted again to look at him. Genya froze, caught in the act. The tiger examined his sheepish expression, then huffed, rolling onto his side to face the panther.

For a moment, Genya hardly even dared to breathe, face-to-face with what could very well be the death of him. But, he swallowed his fear, zeroing in on the scar on the hybrid's cheek. He clumsily pressed his bandaged hand to the tiger's face, his own cheek throbbing in sympathy.

"Mrrp?" Genya chirped.

The tiger huffed, breath blowing back Genya's bangs, before his eyes slid closed.

Genya's lips twitched, a smile curling his mouth.

The curiosity that had spurred him forward had begun to wane, overshadowed by the heaviness of fatigue. His eyelids drooped, and Genya yawned, flashing ivory teeth that were now stained with the signs of his first hearty meal.

Genya blinked, his lone eye flicking over the tiger's form, nose snuffling and inching closer. Until the scent of freedom, a freedom Genya had never felt, tasted, or smelled before, consumed his senses, lulling him deeper into its depths. It beckoned him forward to lie close to the tiger brazenly. The larger hybrid's breath stuttered, and Genya froze in response.

The tiger chuffed, breathing returning to normal, and Genya relaxed. His eyes fell shut, white fur mingling with his own onyx.

And he doesn't fear when he'll wake up.