Work Text:
Nine slammed the groceries down, making the already tattered bags rip apart and scatter their contents across the kitchen table. Some flew onto the floor, but he didn’t care. In fact, he kicked one of the boxes across the room for good measure. He left the mess as it was and stomped over to the bathroom. Peering in the mirror, a pissed off fox glared back at him. And, as he suspected, his nose was still bleeding and he had the start of what would become an impressive black eye later. Perfect, just perfect. Nine hissed with contempt as he began cleaning himself up the best he could, his brain so fogged with anger over what happened that he could hardly keep his hand steady.
He knew better. He knew better than to buy more than two bags of groceries at a time. To overencumber himself even slightly- give even the tiniest reason for someone to see him as a target. But no, he had to go and be stupid, getting four bags this trip. His favorite juice boxes were marked down like crazy because the packaging was getting rebranded. Money was not something Nine came by easily, so it seemed like too good of an opportunity not to stock up. He got so many that he even bought two that were different flavors, just to be adventurous. How wild of him. To think he had been so excited about it, too. It was short-lived.
He nearly made it back to the scareport before he was jumped. Two guys, one of them pretty jacked. Nine’s heart sank, but he still had a pretty good deterrent on his side: He deployed his metal tails in a threatening pose. Not only did he look larger now, but he also essentially had seven knife-looking appendages aimed at his assailants. This usually freaked people out enough to back down, but the fact that his arms were still full of grocery bags must have lowered his threat level just enough that it didn’t work this time. And so, Nine had to fight for his damn groceries.
Overall, he didn’t get seriously injured, but that wasn’t the point. The point was: Why? Why couldn’t he just have one nice thing without being dragged back down in the dirt immediately? Why couldn’t he have groceries that weren’t smashed and tore up from some stupid idiots? Why couldn’t he walk down the street confidently, using his mecha-tails as tools to carry the groceries instead of as weapons? Oh right, because that would draw even more attention. If not for the freaky robo appendages, it would be because his abhorrent double tails would be exposed for ridicule.
With tissues stuffed up his nose to stop the bleeding, Nine stomped back into his kitchen (which was really just a table, mini fridge, and microwave on the other side of his workshop). He started putting his shitty prepackaged garbage food away with an unnecessary amount of force, further crumpling and squishing the packages. He knew his tantrum would only cause him further upset later (when he wanted to eat non-crushed food), so he stopped abruptly. He needed to do something. He needed to vent. And as much as he didn’t want to go back to the outside world again, he knew just what would make him feel better right now.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Nine glanced around the alleyway briefly, making sure to be mindful of his surroundings. It would do no good to get jumped a second time in one day. But it was pretty dead here. The dingy blank brick wall before him was at his complete and utter mercy. And so, he pulled on his mask, shook up a spray can, and got to work sketching. As per usual when he was heated, he had no idea what the end result of his spray tantrum would be. He just let shapes form organically from wide arcing sweeps and small, chaotic scribbles. It wasn’t long before his jittering arm had calmed itself. His mind started to fill with comfy clouds where hot steam had once been. He floated back and forth, using his mechanical tails to lift him and reach more of the urban canvas. Objects were starting to take shape. Nice and flowy, like waves and water drops. It was fitting of the cerulean and azure hues he grabbed without much thought. The more scribbly thing in the middle of the splashes turned out to be a dude. He was going to make him yellow, but there was only a tiny drop of color left in that can. Well, more blue it was, then. He was still making him a fox, though. A fennec, though, because why not? They were small, diminutive… They probably were more likely to get picked on just for their subspecies…
No. Actually, no one picked on this fennec. This fennec was a badass. He was small, but he was insanely strong because… Because of his cybernetic implants! You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but everyone learned not to mess with him once he trounced their asses. Nine added accents to the fennec using the bits of yellow, pink, and purple he had available. When he was nearly done, he got the galaxy brain idea to connect all of the water tendrils to his new fennec character. The dude had a single fluffy tail, but all of the water tendrils were also his tails. He had multiple tails and people thought it was cool and intimidating.
Nine stepped back to admire his work, sweeping his eyes over the watery mural he created in a fit of anger- then excitement. The fennec had a blasé look on his face while he leapt through the air with those water tendrils drawn dangerously. He looked like he could give a fuck less. He was so nonchalant, so punk; fucking based as hell water fox.
“Kitsunami.”
Nine had an uncharacteristic smile on his face, and it didn’t fade even by the time he made his way back home. He even wore it to bed that night. His thoughts were swirling with images of Kitsunami in motion- his artwork come to life like an animatic- as he smashed badniks and bullies alike. The last image Nine saw before he drifted off was the fennec enjoying one of those new flavors of juice box he bought, a tiny pleased smirk on his stark white snout.
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Kitsunami became a staple in Nine’s artwork after that, rivaled only by the hooded avatar image he made for himself. And even then, his personal avatar was reserved mostly for tiny tags and quick doodles. Kitsunami was his mural muse, sometimes with a tiny avatar in the corner as a signature of sorts. They never interacted, though- that would be weird. Kitsunami was a character and he was, well, him. They were separate things. Besides, Kitsunami didn’t need anyone else. He was a loner. People wished they could be his friend, but he was above that.
That is, until one night when Nine found a blue quill behind his old cabinet. He found a nicer one while out scavenging and was pulling out the old one to scrap it. Apparently the quill had been lodged behind it all these years. He tried not to think about the owner of this quill and did a pretty bangup job of it most days. It had been years, after all. He was still a friendless wretch, though, having never found anyone to fill the void made by that damn hedgehog. Oddly enough, no one else ever broke into his home and tried to befriend him after getting in a fight with him. Most people just left it at the fighting (and thankfully no one else ever found his workshop). As annoying as the whole thing was to think about, the stab it still caused in his heart was the worse. It was pathetic. And yet…
A new character popped up alongside Kitsunami the next time he went out to paint. A bombastic, punky, neon green tenrec girl was giving the shorter fennec a fist bump. They were buds, but just casually. She was another cyborg with powers, too (something electric, based on the lightning bolts that he just so happened to sketch near her). They were equals, so they were just chill like that. Busting up ‘bots together, running around town together, doing whatever they wanted without a care. They… Okay, maybe they were good friends. … Maybe they were best friends. Ugh, just because Nine had no friends, didn’t mean Kitsunami couldn’t have a really awesome one. He deserved it. He was the coolest after all… Well, he and his friend, were. Surge. Yeah.
This perspective lasted all of two days. Every day Nine woke up to see that quill, his emotions were shot for the entire day. In the end, he threw it away. It was pathetic to cling to something from the past. It was pathetic that he never moved on since then. It was pathetic he didn’t have the capacity to bond with another living being since then- and probably never would. How could he, though? No one has friends in New Yoke! Its citizens were either empty husks or vicious opportunists.
Nine scowled as he passed by one of his Kitsunami drawings that had been mostly painted over. Good, honestly. Fuck Kitsunami. Nine took out the single spray can he had with him and started doing a shitty doodle over top of it. Kitsunami was a sopping wet mess, frumped on the floor with his bangs and ears askew, in a puddle of his own tears. It was crude and unfinished, but he didn’t care. Kitsunami was now a pathetic loser, just like him. Oh, did he say people wished they could be his friend? He meant Kit was a loser crybaby, desperately lonely, and wishing he had friends. Wished he had someone, anyone to care about him. Nine ran out of spray, but he was just adding more tears at that point, so it was whatever. Kitsunami had his new design now. Basically the same guy, but wetter. Droopy ears, frumpy bangs, and riddled with tears.
A string of misfortune kept Nine in a foul mood for the foreseeable future. It was nothing new, really. The mood boost that came along with initially creating Kitsunami was the real anomaly. This was just a return to form. Now every time he needed to vent, he’d seek out one of his Kitsunami pieces (Chaos, he had made so many in that short time) and “fix” it. Subtle grins and cool indifference transformed into wibbly mouths and a deluge of tears. Oh and he couldn’t forget Kit’s new “friend.” Sometimes he’d draw her with him, looking pissed off and annoyed. Kit was such a loser that he formed an unhealthy attachment to her in the short time they knew each other. He’d follow her around and try to impress her, but she clearly didn’t care about him at all. When she found out he’d do anything for her, she started taking advantage of that. But Kit kept coming back, because at least she didn’t leave. Even when she ended up becoming his personal bully, like in the latest scribbly mess he put out.
One day Nine was doodling in the margins of his notebook. Somehow the stick figure doodle of Surge punting a crying Kit wasn’t doing it for him today, though. Lately he actually had been feeling pretty guilty about making Sonic- er, Surge- such an asshole. His mind wandered as he continued to scribble random things, which somehow became a loose comic. He decided that it wasn’t just a coincidence that Surge and Kit were both superpowered cyborgs. Some evil doctor programmed them to be that way; to be servants for his evil schemes. Surge didn’t want to be so cruel and Kit didn’t want to be so clingy and pathetic, but they couldn’t help it. It was built into them. Nine kept scribbling through the night, abandoning the tail enhancement he was working on in favor of fleshing out his characters’ backstories.
He woke up groggy the next morning. Chaos, when did these stupid little nonexistent people start taking up so much of his time and headspace? He practically could write a whole comic series about them at this point. Ugh, that goddamn doctor character was insufferable, though! Starline. He was thinking of Mr. Dr. Eggman’s hideous outfit at the time. That weird jumpsuit with the long line that ended in a doofy little star for no reason. Chaos, Starline would probably think he’s cool for some reason, though. He’d probably simp for him. Nine laughed aloud at the thought. Even though he just created Starline, he already hated him, so it was amusing to give him lame character flaws. Yeah, he was definitely a Mr. Dr. Eggman simp. He probably had a body pillow of him and everything-
“Ewww! Brain bleach! Oh chaos!” Nine cringed, but he was laughing a bit, too.
For the first time in months, he was starting off the day with some mirth. That was a nice change of pace. Things remained a tad more stable after that point. Not good, not bad, but okay. Bearable. Nine went out once in a while to paint, but didn’t do anything extravagant like in his brief Kitsunami era. He even got bold and painted a crude mockery of Starline and Mr. Dr. Eggman making lame kissy faces at each other. In Mr. Dr. Eggman’s district to boot. Chibi versions of Kit and Surge were barfing in the corner. He had trouble containing his laughter all the way home after finishing that one. He started painting Kitsunami by himself again, too. He was back to his cool self for the most part, but… Little bits of him were just off. He looked kinda unhinged sometimes, even if he was otherwise pretty badass. And sometimes he just looked a little… Damaged. The droopy aspects stayed, too. Nine’s latest piece of him had him poised confidently with his water tentacles, but there was the tiniest tear in the corner of his eye. Nine sighed and placed his hand on Kit’s chest.
“Sorry for making you go through the same shit, man. But… Thanks. For going through it with me.”
Nine frowned. It was a bit dorky to talk to a drawing, wasn’t it? But looking up at his creation, he couldn’t help to get that initial feeling he got when he first made Kitsunami. Pride, admiration. Kitsunami was still so damn cool. It would be pretty awesome if he were real… Or if Nine could somehow position himself just so that he’d cross over into Kit’s world instead…
Cracka-THOOM!
Nine sprang away from the wall, just about jumping out of his skin from alarm. He looked every whichway, but couldn’t discern what caused the clap of thunder. Surely it couldn’t be an actual meteorological phenomenon? He held his arm out to discover the tiiiiniest amount of barely detectable mist in the air. But still, that was some dry lightning bullshit. What are the odds?
Just as his heart began to settle down after the scare, he froze from another horrible realization. He had just been leaning fully against the wall, wishing to be whisked away into fantasy land like some silly kit. No, not quite like a kit. His muzzle flashed red when he realized his cheek was pressed up against Kit’s. He was… He was acting like he had a crush on him or something! His DRAWING. His stupid power-fantasy-turned-vent-oc! Nine went home with his face fully shrunk into his hoodie. Maybe it could absorb his shame, or at the very least hide his scarlet muzzle from passerbys. He tried to reason that his little slip-up wasn’t that weird. Other people had probably done way weirder things, for sure. At least he didn’t like… Kiss the drawing or anything. Now that would be some next level foolishness.
That night, Nine wanted to punch himself for even bringing up the thought of kissing Kitsunami, because now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Well, not kissing his drawing, obviously! Jeez! Like, if a real person that looked like Kitsunami just so happened to want to kiss him… You know? Normal things to think about. Also… If Kitsunami was real… Including the whole thing with Surge and Starline… Maybe he could help him. He was great with robots, surely he could safely gut out Kit’s unwanted programming so he could be his true happy self again. And like, maybe they’d become friends because of it. And maybe one day, while they’re just talking and hanging out… Kit gives him a look… Leans in for that kiss…
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Nine didn’t leave his home the next day. He was convinced anyone he passed on the street would somehow know about his terrible, shameful thoughts. Even worse, he didn’t want to pass by a painting of Kit! He’d definitely know! He tried to clear his head by building something- anything. Just something to put his mind into tech mode instead of creative mode. Thankfully it did the trick and he stayed occupied with his new project for most of the day. Unfortunately, he finished it and his mind slipped right back to where it was before. He considered not visiting any parts of town where his Kit paintings were for a while, but moments later was thinking about doing a painting of Kit right inside his base.
“No! That’s way too embarrassing! I don’t want him in my home!”
Nine ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. In the end, he decided the whole thing was silly to get worked up over. It was just his private thoughts, and Kitsunami wasn’t real, so who cares? There. Problem solved. Jeez, you’d think being a genius would exempt him from having literally the stupidest thoughts on the planet, but apparently not. Oh well. He probably ought to go to the grocery store, though. He only had one microwave meal left and was running low on juice (the “overstock” did not last. The juice never lasted!). With an unenthusiastic sigh, he flipped up his hoodie and opened the door to head out.
And his heart dropped to his stomach.
There, in his doorway, was a cerulean blue fennec with a hair as droopy as his ears.
“Kitsunami,” Nine breathed.