FSE

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Hoo. It's been a hot minute, hasn't it?

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Luster City was a city besieged. Not by ranks of men or scores of artillery. No, the threats came from within.

Threats found hidden in the shadows, walking in the light, lurking in every pocket and every home.

The city was drowning in the slow-death of bystander syndrome. Those with intentions to act worked to harm the people and nothing was being done, no one was doing anything but watching and waiting….

Kitsune moved like a shadow, leaping from building to building, racing along on all fours. His nose twitched as he paused to take a whiff of the air. The smells of the city were a cavalcade of different smog's but he had the precision to pick out the scents he knew he needed to follow.

Three men. They worked for Meldar. The smell of sulphur was impossible to miss once you had been choked with it enough times. He withheld a cough, his lungs hurt just thinking about it.

He moved swifter, falling into a galloping run. He did not know how far they were going, only that they were going somewhere and it could not be for good.

The tall buildings with easily-leapt-on tops began to grow scarce as Kitsune found his nose leading him away from the banks and museums of the city to….

“No,” he muttered, realising where he was going. People lived in this direction! Large districts of people shut in their little cages, deafened to the outside world.

He kicked the pace up significantly, putting aside stealth for speed and leaping down onto the streets as well. Humans and the rare digimon found the wind blowing in their faces when he raced by, barely a blur to their eyes.

His heart pounded in his chest as he pushed his body harder, half-healed aches made themselves known to him most rudely. His back left leg’s calf muscle twinged where the bullet had struck him two weeks ago, his ribs reminded him of the clubbing they’d received last month, and the knot in his neck felt like a string ready to snap.

He ignored it all and pushed on, arriving in a street he didn’t know the name of to help a person he had never met.

He spotted the miscreants immediately and roared, “STOP!”

‘Ready weasel?’ the second mind within his body asked, the heavy tail that was shaped like a grand blade. The eye upon it narrowed at Meldar’s men. Two of them were pressing a civilian down against the pavement, the sounds of their demands to lay still fading in the streets.

Most disturbingly, the streets were not empty. There were some people who had stopped to watch, only watching, perhaps one had raised a phone to call the police… or record what was happening.

His bold roar didn’t fail to cause a response, Meldar’s men jumped as something intervened in their brazen kidnapping attempt. The one not holding the civilian down pointed a gun at him and Kitsune knew he had to act quickly.

While a firearm was only a small concern for him personally, there were too many civilians around that could be threatened. He had the advantage of surprise but only briefly, so he did what he did best.

A leaping jump to evade the bullet shot, spinning and slashing his tail through the air. The very air rippled as he sent razor-sharp winds at the men, the only sign they were there was the ripple and then the shouts of pain as his attack connected.

Kitsune finished flipping over, as the man dropped his gun with an injury to his hand Kitsune was upon him.

He slammed into him and knocked him into the other men, knocking them all sprawling. Many of his kind would feel revolted at the idea of a digimon, especially a Champion rank, hurting humans.

While Kitsune had agreed with that idea once, these were not just ordinary humans. They were thugs, looking to hurt and torture and kill their own kind. That was not something he was not willing to stand aside for. Their guns also helped to sway his opinions on the matter.

A metal baseball bat went rolling as the men were knocked like a trio of bowling pins, Kitsune pausing just long enough to roll their victim out of the way of danger.

He planted a paw on two of the men and bared his teeth at the third. Humans might have preferred to speak with their voices most of the time, but they rarely missed the meaning he was making when he bared his teeth.

Beneath the fox mask he wore his face was less vulpine and far more mustelid. He knew he was handsome, some even called him cute, but when he bared his sharp fangs he only looked fearsome.

He had a moment to meet the man’s eyes, expecting anger, fear, and submission to be faced back. What he didn’t expect was a calculating, challenging, glimmer to them. It gave him pause, the man and his compatriots were at his mercy and, yes, Kitsune was a noble hero that would not take a life, but that did not mean he wouldn’t enact justice.

It was the next moment he realised something was awry. A sharp pop, the crowd screamed, he grunted as something struck him, feeling warmth bloom up his flank. It didn’t hurt, not at first, more like a needle he wasn’t expecting.

Then the real bang caught up to his powerful ears as a second bullet tore through his flesh. As a digimon living on Earth, he found his body was beholden to more of the laws of biology. His blood flowed, his digicore thumped like a heart pounding rapidly.

A third shot met his ears before the bullet did. This time, his tail moved automatically. A sharp clang of gunmetal on steel rang out as a bolt of pain shot up his tail. The last bullet was reflected, giving him time for his ears to pinpoint the sniper’s location.

He leapt off the men, unwilling to use them as shields nor risk them being hit by repeated gunfire. Setting aside the men on the ground he looked up.

It was an inside job. For whatever reason that Meldar wanted this particular civilian, and he had bought someone dangerous to do it. Kitsune continued to move quickly, dodging back to stop the sniper from getting a clear line on him as Blade, his tail, kept his eye on the men scrambling to their feet.

‘Someone’s gonna get away,’ Blade said.

“They won’t get far,” Kitsune growled and began to gallop. He leapt up onto a windowpane of the building and began to leap up, metal squealing and bricks falling as he tore his way up the building as if gravity hardly mattered to him.

He lept from right to left as the sniper attempted to shoot him, ducking his head and allowing his mask, far more durable than it appeared, to take a shot aimed right for his head.

The sniper soon realised they weren’t going to stop him and attempted to run. By that point it was much too late.

The superhero Kitsune was already upon them.

As debris fell around the men on the ground, the sniper attempted to flee. No amount of money in the world was enough to fight a Champion Digimon head to head. Before they could so much as run into their apartment, Kitsune already had their pants in his maw.

He bit his clothes and pulled back, flinging him screaming off the building. He caught his footing, turning around and letting the person scream a moment as they fell before leaping like a lion, catching them and twisting them onto his back.

Landing harshly, the impact left his passenger bouncing off him and crumpling to the ground, one down. Kitsune flinched as the kidnappers had grabbed their weapons again and fired the gun, leaving a hole in his upper leg.

“What the FUCK ARE YOU!?” the gun wielder screamed as another blast of razor wind left him bleeding on the ground.

Kitsune grabbed him with a paw, his claws tearing through his clothes to lift him as he reared onto his hindlegs.

“Kitsune,” he replied before the eyes of his mask glowed a ruddy red. The man groaned, his struggles growing slack before Kitsune left him unconscious on the ground.

Two down.

Wearing knucklebusters, another man chose fight over flight and came screaming for him. Even with multiple gunshot wounds, Kitsune evaded his swings casually and flicked around, letting Blade glare daggers into the man's eyes and leave him frozen in fear, eyeing the living blade warily.

A flash of Kitsune’s mask had that man dropping bonelessly to the ground. Now where did-

Kitsune roared in agony. A horrible crunch reverberated through his leg. Kitsune looked back as he saw the metal bat be raised again to swing a second time.

He needed to adjust his footing, but his movements were slow due to the pain: Taking off weight from other limbs made the now broken one feel like it was filled with broken glass. It felt like his skin was going to tear from the shards and the stagger he made to regain his footing caused him to swipe mindlessly.

He felt his paw make contact with the man’s stomach and a puff of oxygen being knocked out of him. He was knocked down, rolling to a stop as Kitsune staggered, his claws wet with something.

He managed to keep his balance and looked at his paw for that wetness, realising in horror his claws were bloody. A few drops of blood lay a path to the man as he groaned on the ground, clutching his stomach before he began to howl in anguish.

Horror flooded every part of Kitsune and he looked back and forth. The crowd had run once the shooting had begun, no police or ambulances could be heard even if he strained his ears, and he had no ability to call for help.

He would have to go looking, but when he tried to walk pain agonised his limbs and he staggered. A pained whimper escaped his mouth as he looked back at his leg, broken by that metal bat that was still rolling on the ground.

Rolling… towards….

“Help!” Kitsune said, eyes widening below his mask as someone brave, or foolish, enough not to run approached. As soon as the word left his mouth he felt a flash of a very difficult emotion. People didn’t help in this city. People not helping is what brought this situation to this disaster. Helping is what he did.

He wasn’t sure if to feel angry or ashamed or some confusing mixture of the two, his own thoughts painting such a terrible picture he didn’t hear the human saying something.

As the man approached Kitsune snarled, going on the defensive. People didn’t help here. Was this a fifth man coming to try and finish him off, that’s what it had to be. Blade’s edge shimmered, readying another razor wind when needed as the man froze.

He raised his hands. Surrendering?

“Woah, woah,” the man said, waving his hands as if warding a fire back. “I’m trying to help.”

Trying to help…? That didn’t make sense.

“Why would you?” Kitsune spat, shielding his broken leg and feeling his blood still falling down his body, dripping from his chest to the ground. “Why should you?”

“You helped me,” the man said, sounding annoyed. “So, shut up.”

“I… have?”

“Just now,” he said, gesturing at the men. “The cops are on their way, you need to get out of here, Kitsune.”

He got a clearer look at the man as he looked over the defeated men, he noticed that the sniper had already been attended to, left in the recovery position. On his left side, right leg bent to prevent him from rolling onto his stomach, and right hand positioned for his head to rest on.

He certainly struck a memorable look. Torn up jeans exposed parts of his legs, both pant legs made of a different material and design. High boots. A sequined jacket with the sleeves rolled up, revealing one of his arms was heavily tattooed. And hair with a shock of pink splashed into it.

In the time it took Kitsune to stare dumbly at him, the man had already checked on the breathing of two more men and rolled them into a recovery position. The bleeding man was trying to crawl away but was stopped by a boot on his back.

“Stay fucking down,” the man demanded, pressing him into the ground with perhaps more force than was necessary. But based on the cuts and bruises on him, he was only returning a lighter degree of the treatment this man was giving him only five minutes ago. “And don’t exacerbate the bleeding.”

The man growled into the pavement. “That fucking mon’s going down for this, this could kill me.”

“I’m sure you’ll spin it as a poor defenceless citizen being set upon by the vicious vigilante,” the punk returned, digging his heel a little. He glanced behind him to see if Kitsune had disappeared yet and blinked. “What the fuck are you still doing here?”

Kitsune was thrown, very thrown. He wasn’t sure what was going on anymore, but he….

“He might die?” he asked nervously.

The punk rolled his eyes. “I got a look at him, barely a flesh wound. The only thing that’s gonna kill him is it getting infected by him being a fuckhead. Whatever. Go. Shoo. Fuck off, the police are coming.”

“I…”

“What?” The man’s voice promised he was on the verge of shouting but he blinked and swallowed it. “Sorry, I’m really grateful you saved me but you got to go or else you’re gonna be fucked by the cops. I’ll tell everyone what really happened and- why are you standing like that?”

Kitsune had never felt so see-through when the man’s countenance shifted again, gazing over him with a grimace. Looking over the bullet wounds and flicking to where Kitsune was shielding his leg. “What’s with the leg?” he asked.

How could he tell?

Kitsune’s silence made his scowl deepen. “Fuck. It’s broken, isn’t it?” Kitsune winced and he groaned, now the sounds of sirens could be heard by both of them and he looked around.

He stepped off the man, deeming him of less importance at the moment and walked to Kitsune. Naturally wary, Kitsune tried to take a step back and had to bite down on a yelp trying to escape him.

The man got to him, not flinching when Blade glared at him.

‘Give me the word,’ his tail said.

Kitsune vetoed that immediately.

“...let me guess,” the man said. “You’re not gonna go to a hospital?”

Kitsune snarled at the thought.

“Fucking. Fine, come on.” He gestured frantically to follow. “If you don’t want to go and bleed out in a ditch, follow me.”

“Why should I?” Kitsune asked. “I can take care of myself.”

“Unless you’ve got some telekinetic powers the news hasn’t told us about, I don’t think you can. Look, I’m a nurse, I can do something for you.”

“A nurse? You?” he asked, doubtful.

His… person rolled his eyes at him. “Yyyep. If it makes you feel better, I wanted to be a vet once but couldn’t stand the thought of having to put them down. So, I became a nurse instead. Now, come on please. You’re gonna be fucked if the police catch you because you’ll either have to go with them or fight them off too and both options are gonna fuck you over.”

“You say fuck a lot,” Kitsune replied, limping forwards.

“Yeah, well, I can’t say that with my normal patients.” The punk nurse began to lead him away from the building, and the sirens.

“Isn’t this your home?” Kitsune asked.

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

“I live in the next one down,” he said. “For the record, the name’s Troy.”

“Kitsune,” the reppamon wheezed. “That’s what they call me.”

“Don’t waste your breath, I know who you are.”

Kitsune stopped responding, finding it harder to breathe again. His body ached, and he was getting a bit cold. The punk nurse flashed him a frown that might have been annoyance, or concern. It was hard to tell with this human.

He helped him up a few pitiful stairs and into the elevator with a very uncomfortable looking middle-aged woman. Just the punk male nurse Troy, the bullet hole sponge superhero Kitsune, and her clutching her handbag in a manicured hand.

It got more awkward when they had to step out on the same floor together and Troy grunted out. “Kerry, could ya help me drag him back to my apartment?”

Kerry looked like she’d rather jump in a pool filled with mousetraps but perhaps there was a hint of something in her as she forced a brief nod and helped Troy support Kitsune's hindlegs on the walk to his apartment.

“Thanks, Ker,” Troy said. “I owe you one.”

“More like fifty,” she said softly as she closed his door for him.

Troy led Kitsune into his apartment, up to the couch where he told him to rest.

“It’s a nice couch,” Kitsune said, hesitating.

“No, it isn’t,” Troy said. “Better you bleed all over that than my rug.” He quickly vanished out of sight, slipping through a door and rummaging around for a moment as Kitsune awkwardly slumped onto the couch feeling colder than ever.

‘Most murder houses look less obvious than this,’ Blade commented as he looked around.

Gory pictures on the walls, a decor covered in heavy metal posters proclaiming death and taxes were the only things eternal in life, one plastic plant covered in cobwebs sitting depressingly in the corner.

It was hard to see, at first he was worried his vision was fading but then Troy returned, flicking a light switch on. He carried a box which he sat on a little corner table between the couch and a chair and opened it up.

“I don’t carry painkillers,” he said, drawing out a few concerning implements. Tweezers, a lot of cloth, bandage, a bottle of something with a cross on it.

“It’s not gonna be all pain and kill, right?” Kitsune tried to joke but the wariness in his eyes was clear.

“Well that’d hurt less than what I’m going to do to you,” he said, sliding new blue gloves on his freshly washed hands. “How many times did you get shot?”

“Three. Two on this side.” The side in question already facing the nurse thankfully. “Once in my foreleg on this side.” He had to lay carefully or else it hurt like someone was pressing a sharp piece of metal through his flesh.

His left hind leg was the one broken, left hanging over the edge of the couch. Everything hurt so he couldn’t get comfortable, just different degrees of misery. “Tell me what you’re doing,” he said, trying to keep the exhaustion he felt out of his voice.

“I’m going to see if I can get the bullets out,” Troy replied, carefully placing a sheet of plastic and opening a dressing back near Kitsune’s head. “No breathing over this,” he warned. “It needs to be as sterile as I can manage. I’m going to tell you right now that I’m not a surgeon, if the bullets aren’t right there for me to take out I’m not messing around in there and you’re gonna have to suck it up and go to the emergency department.”

“I’m tough,” Kitsune replied immediately. “I can walk it off.”

“No, you can’t,” Troy retorted. He soaked a bit of gauze and used it to wipe away blood over the first bullet wound, right along his ribs. “I’ll bind your leg but unless you’ve got some magical digihealing you’re not gonna be running around any time soon. Unless you want to completely destroy your leg,” he added when Kitsune went to say something about crime never waiting.

He snapped his mouth shut and very much did NOT pout, simply focused on breathing.

“This solution is numbing,” Troy said professionally. “It’s not gonna help much,” he added lightly. “But it might stop you from screaming.”

“I don’t scream.”

“That bat you took to your leg says otherwise,” Troy said. “Alright, take a deep breath. This is gonna hurt like a bitch: I’m going to need you to listen to me when I tell you to breathe. Understand?”

“I’ve got it. Just dig it out.”

“Digging is not what I am going to be doing.” Kitsune cringed, tensing his jaw as he felt fingers pressing around the bullet wound, pulling it taught. A growl built in his throat but he heard, “Breathe in.”

He listened, sucking a breath through his teeth and began to hold it. “Exhale,” Troy said. This, Kitsune didn’t listen to. “Exhale,” Troy repeated, not advancing until he was listened to.

Kitsune let the breath out raggedly. “Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.” Once Kitsune was in a rhythm he advanced.

“FFFFFF-” Kitsune began to swear but held himself in check. “The shots didn’t hurt like-”

“Breathe.”

He snapped his jaw but stopped talking, returning to the rhythm as he tried to think about anything but what was going on in his flesh. His body twinged, shuddering at points when the metal instruments dug in further and he had to be reminded to breathe every few seconds.

After what felt like hours, Troy drew back. Kitsune let out a wheezing breath, it still hurt just as much and he grit his teeth. “Couldn’t find it?” he growled.

A clink drew his attention as Troy set the bullet down. “Got it,” he replied casually.

“W… it still hurts?”

“Of course it still hurts,” Troy replied. “Anyway, I’m impressed. You weren’t kidding about being tough. I’ve seen plenty of grown men cry at that part. On the painkillers that actually work.”

He changed the subject. “The bullet didn’t go far in, just a few centimetres. Any further and I wouldn’t be taking it out, reach or not.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes the bullet is all that’s stopping you from bleeding out,” Troy replied, exchanging his gloves for new ones. “This is, by the way, a completely inappropriate use of my skills and my teachers would be having a stroke. If you bleed out on me I’m going to be really mad.”

“I’m not going to bleed out,” Kitsune snorted. “Next one.”

“Whatever. Focus on your breathing, every second I’m reminding you to is another ten seconds of digging because I have to do this without being distracted.”

The next bullet came out easier now that Kitsune knew what to expect. He was awkwardly shifted around on the couch to get the last one, but Troy was able to just pluck out. His muscles had tensed so much they had physically pushed it most of the way out.

“This one is the one that should have been left in,” Troy complained as Kitsune’s shoulder leg began to bleed a lot more than the others had. He planted gauze down before wrapping it in a crepe bandage and then binding it with a bandage.

The other two bullet wounds he placed what he called Sterile Gloves on before attending to.

“I’m going to want to change the one on your leg in a few hours,” Troy said. “Lessen the chance of getting infected.”

“Don’t put me near any computers,” Kitsune said seriously. “I don’t want a computer virus.”

“That’s not how… is that how it works for digimon?”

“I dunno, but I’m not risking it.”

“Do you not… have a computer?” Troy asked as he washed up, he had a bit of blood on him and a lot of blood strewn around his apartment.

“I have no need for a computer,” Kitsune sniffed, not willing to divulge the real reason.

Troy stared at him. The longer he did, the more Kitsune began to fear that the human did indeed have some sort of mind-reading abilities. Then he just shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t have material to make you a cast, or the knowledge, so I’m gonna do some quick research. Don’t worry, I’ll wash my hands after using the computer.”

He said it with such snark that Kitsune glowered at him. Troy ignored it. He had changed into a looser-fitting set of clothes, exposing more of his body. He had several more tattoos that Kitsune could partially make out, some on his back, between his shoulders and above the tailbone.

“Are you not affected by what happened earlier?” Kitsune asked, genuinely curious at the cool head this human was presenting. “Attacked in the street, none of your kind coming to your aid, two gunmen.”

“Eh,” Troy replied.

“Eh?” Kitsune was thrown almost as hard as he threw the sniper off the building. “What do you mean ‘eh’?”

“It means whatever.”

“I know what it means!”

Troy finished reading whatever he was reading and turned to him. “Mel was gonna do something eventually, but based on the fourth guy I’m betting he figured two birds.”

“What do birds have to do with this?”

Troy hummed, rolling his eyes to the roof as if searching for strength. “Means get me and get you.”

“Why would… Mel? Meldar???”

“I think that’s a given.”

“You know the scoundrel?”

‘Having second thoughts, weasel?’

A flicker of amusement crossed Troy’s face. “Scoundrel?” he asked himself softly, chuckling a moment. “I knew him in high school, and turned him down. He wasn’t like that back then. Just a decent guy who had trouble finding his place in the world. Seeing his face in the news was… well, he seems like the kind to go after people who ‘wronged’ him.”

“Then, you are in danger!”

“Sit down!” Troy snapped when Kitsune tried to rise. “You’re not gonna help anyone with a broken leg like that.”

“I am a digimon,” Kitsune replied. “I am significantly more capable than you.”

“Then, let’s make a deal,” Troy said sharply.

“A deal?” Kitsune recoiled at the notion. Deals were the tool of nerdowells like Meldar.

“I’m all in danger and you’re a horse with a broken leg,” Troy said. “So, stay here until you’ve recovered. That way you can ‘keep me safe’ and I can make sure you recover.”

Kitsune didn’t like how he said that but the idea couldn’t be discarded immediately. He couldn’t see how one of them benefited more than the other in this arrangement. He WAS a powerful digimon, he could defend the home quite well and clearly Meldar knew where his ‘old friend’ lived. Thus, until the villain was behind bars Troy was in danger.

‘Where can we go anyway?’ Blade asked, the eye on his tail blinking judgmentally. ‘Back to the box in the alleyway? Someone will jump us. It’s kinda nice in here.’

Well, Blade seemed to have changed their mind quickly.

“Think about it while I grab something to use as a splint.” Troy stepped out of sight again, leaving Kitsune in the warmth of the living room on the comfort of the couch. He was gone longer this time, eventually returning with two long pieces of wood. They were smoothed with rounded orbs at the bottom and what looked like screw holes.

He measured one against his broken leg and turned to Kitsune. “Can you, carefully, cut this along here?” he asked, placing his finger over where he measured.

“Ask Blade,” Kitsune responded, grimly amused at the scoff he was to receive.

“Can you cut this?” Troy asked, turning to his tail without pause. Kitsune blinked underneath his mask, letting his tail do as it wished to slice through the wood without leaving a mark on Troy. “Thanks.”

Kitsune continued to stare at him as Troy retrieved some rope he had for reasons Kitsune didn’t want to ask about and set his leg in place between them.

“This won’t be nice,” Troy responded. “So, I really hope you’re already thinking of agreeing to stay.” Kitsune was about to tell him that it wouldn’t compare to the bullets when Troy pulled and the world became pain.

Kitsune screamed, his mask flying off his head as he flung it back with force. It left a mark on the roof and tumbled down and broke something off a wall.

It took everything Kitsune had not to fight the source of pain off, physically pulling into himself to stop himself from lashing out. Troy had made sure to stand clear and back off as Kitsune thrashed. The reppamon was panting for breath and lightly shaking as the pain began to recede, drawing back like the tide to a cramping throb that spasmed the limb.

“You okay?” Troy asked.

“What… was that?” Kitsune groaned, his breath seethed between his bared teeth as he continued to shudder from aftershocks of that pain.

“Told you it wouldn’t be nice,” Troy said as if talking about the weather outside. “Figured bracing for it would make it worse.”

It wasn’t quite an apology because they didn’t know if bracing would have been worse but Kitsune certainly felt less friendly at the moment.

He growled on reflex when Troy tightened the ropes.

“The worst is over,” Troy said. “Do you, uh, want to sniff my hand?”

“I’m not a dog,” Kitsune scowled at him, his eyes were able to focus right on Troy’s face without issue for some reason, seeing as the pale human took on a half smile.

“Yeah, you’re a… what, a ferret?”

‘Weasel, actually.’

“Fe-?” He raised a paw. “My mask. Heck, where’s my mask!?” he yelped, urgently sitting up before Troy held him back from tumbling off.

“Woah, lay down!” he ordered and Kitsune paused. He had gotten used to listening to him just with the breathing orders. He continued to wriggle moments later, covering his face.

“You can’t see my face.”

“You’re not a medusa are you?” Troy asked in concern. Or was that tone mocking?

“It hides my secret identity," Kitsune hissed, still covering his face. Even without looking, he could feel a judgemental look coming from Troy. “What?”

“Dude, you’re a reppamon.”

Kitsune gasped, “That’s maladjusted to the modern day!” he barked.

Troy sighed and picked the mask up off the floor. Made of something stronger than wood, although looking wooden, and shaped like a stylised fox’s head. He brought it back to Kitsune and handed it to him. “Maladjusted? Dude, it’s 2024 not 1024.”

Kitsune pretended he didn’t hear that.

“Not that I don’t think you’re weird for caring that much,” Troy said as Kitsune slipped it back into place with a sigh of relief. “But I won’t make a fuss about it, Kitsune. Just relax, you’ve lost a bit of blood. I’ll make us something to eat.”

And he got the digimon some water first. “Extra fluids, nurses order.”

As Kitsune lapped at the water, he couldn’t help but wonder about this man. Most humans were buried under bystander syndrome, and really the digimon in the city weren’t any better. They’d watch a literal kidnapping happen and do nearly nothing about it. It was only when the danger hit them did they ever act.

And that act was to run.

This human, Troy, hadn’t run even though he was the one being attacked. He stuck around and came to help him when he was the one in need of help.

Not that Kitsune liked the thought of needing help. He was the city’s lone wolf, the watchful eye that watched the watchers.

“Why do this?” Kitsune asked when Troy brought over two plates, the one for him covered with meat.

“You need protein,” Troy replied, setting down cutlery as well. He’d been told without telling not to assume.

Kitsune just gave him a flat look for the sass. “That’s not what I meant.”

Troy began to eat, shrugging. “You saved my ass, I wasn’t gonna just watch you limp off to get shot by the police or something.”

“They wouldn’t-” He stopped short, glancing down.

Troy frowned, staring at his plate a moment. “Eat,” he said. “I feel guilty for having to hurt you, please just take it.”

A glare was sent the punk’s way before Kitsune opened his mouth and did just that. He hadn’t had a warm meal in… how long? It was amazing. He didn’t use the cutlery but he did make sure to lick the plate clean.

Had to respect the host's cooking after all.

Kitsune had things to say, questions to ask, means of repayment to work out. But before he could begin to work out a suitable way to start that conversation, Troy had tossed a soft blanket over him that smelled like clean and something nostalgic and told him to sleep.

His body hurt, his muscles in his leg had stopped spasming but the aching throb was still like a hammer against his bones. Despite that, he felt warm. On the outside thanks to the blanket and temperature control in the apartment, and the inside. He assumed it was a hot meal.

Even though he tried to grasp onto some sort of dialogue to open with his… saviour? He saved Troy. Mutual helper? What even was this? He’d decide on that… tomorrow.

When Kitsune woke next, it was to the sound of sizzling and a heavenly scent in the air. His mouth watered, nose twitching underneath the mask. He unconsciously adjusted the mask, confirming to himself it was still there as his sluggish mind tried to work out where it was.

He was on something long and soft and he shuffled, going to slide off it.

As soon as both legs on that side of his body touched the floor, searing pain asserted itself and he remembered everything.

His shout of pain startled the occupant of this living space and something clattered to the ground. “Fucking hell!” Troy yelled, recoiling from the ground as glass shattered and water doused the floor.

Kitsune glanced sharply at the outburst, automatically on his guard. He spotted Troy across the room, standing in the kitchenette of his apartment. The punk looked a little different in the morning, he wore a singlet rather than his uniform and his hair was somehow even messier than it was before.

Bruises marked his skin all over with scraped skin across his arms and legs.

“Sleep well?” Troy asked with smarm dripping, grabbing a shovel and brush to scoop up the glass carefully. “Scared the shit out of me, why’d you go trying to walk?”

Kitsune glanced away, chiding himself for immediately going on guard at the outburst. If Troy was intending to do any harm, beyond whatever horrible thing he’d done with his leg, he would have done it while Kitsune slept.

There was no reason to be suspicious either, they had aided each other in moments of need and according to the stories, that was how friendships were made. At least, Kitsune thought that was the case. He wasn’t entirely certain.

“You’re not a big talker, are you?” Troy added after his question went unanswered for a few seconds.

“I am the strong silent type,” Kitsune replied. For some reason, Troy looked to find that amusing, a surprised smile crossing his face with a snort.

“Sure, bud.”

The smell that came with the sizzling began to reach smokey levels to Kitsune’s sensitive nose and he said, “Is your breakfast burning?”

Troy hummed something, ducking out of sight as he swept up all the glass. He seemed unconcerned and Kitsune hobbled off the couch, balancing on three legs.

“It’s fine,” Troy said once he spotted him. “I like my bacon a little crispy.”

Bacon? That’s what the heavenly smell was?

Kitsune limped his way forwards, thinking of the broken glass and seeking to help. Troy stopped him before he could make it into the kitchen. “Watch your feet, I dunno if I got all of the tiny shards!”

Giving a chuff of amusement at the need for concern, Kitsune pressed a pass firmly into the linoleum floor and his mask’s eyes glowed with just the slightest touch of light. “I’ve had enough of the feeling of broken glass in my legs.”

Insignificant fragments of glass as well as other things like scraps of fluff and miniscule bits of dirt floated up before compacting in place, forming a small ball of deadly filth.

Kitsune nodded his head at the rubbish bin and deposited it.

‘Kitsune the vacuum cleaner,’ Blade snarked and Kitsune’s expression turned flat a moment.

Troy caught it with a puzzled look. “Good job?” he asked before shrugging. “I should say thanks. But you don’t need to, lay back down, I'll bring breakfast to you.”

To that, Kitsune’s ears perked. “Breakfast?”

“What do you think I’m doing in here?”

He almost said, “Preparing yourself a meal.” Before the cunning reason of the hero's mind caught him and alerted him that’d probably be saying far too much about himself.

Troy seemed to take his silence as confusion anyway and sighed, “You’re an odd-one, Mr Hero. It won’t be much longer. Do you want a drink?”

“I can get it,” Kitsune said.

Troy looked to protest a moment before he allowed it, making room for Kitsune to hobble in. He examined the reppamon as he pawed around, curious about a lot of things.

It took Kitsune a lot of focus to levitate the glass without dropping it and even more to turn the tap on while holding it in his telekinesis.

His head hurt a little more, a knot in his neck aching. Water would help, he assured himself.

Water did not help much.

By the time Kitsune managed to give himself some water, Troy had finished cooking and plating their meals.

He set both at the table but dragged one chair away so that Kitsune didn’t have to do it himself. The reppamon was big enough to sit on his haunches and be eye level with the plate, but with one of his back legs being the broken one, sitting like that was not pleasant.

“Would you prefer it lower down?” Troy asked lightly as Kitsune shuffled about concealing a grimace under his mask.

Kitsune didn’t want to be eating off the floor but he couldn’t stand at the table either. He was too big then and craning his head down hurt.

“...fine,” the digimon grumbled.

Troy took both plates and transferred them to the part of the room that was the lounge, setting them down on the coffee table instead.

“What are you doing?” Kitsune asked as Troy sat on a cushion on the floor.

“I’m not sitting on the carpet,” he replied, spearing a bit of bacon with a fork. “Eat. You’ll feel a little better.”

Questions were brewing but they were not voiced. The coffee table was a better height for him, loafing didn’t hurt once his leg was in position and he could mash his face into the plate to devour the eggs, bacon, and buttered toast.

The two ate in silence for a few minutes. Kitsune attacked the plate with the hunger of a wild beast while Troy cut his meal up with a touch more grace, with both hands holding utensils and not tearing the plate apart with his bare hands. There was a cup of juice on the table that Kitsune didn’t remember seeing but he took that down as well, washing his sore throat with the cool liquid.

He indeed felt a little better. Despite sleeping for hours uninterrupted, he still felt exhausted and yawned a few times.

Troy sat down on an armchair and began to poke a box at the television.

“What are you doing?” Kitsune asked.

“Putting on a movie,” Troy replied.

“I see no VCR,” Kitsune said, befuddled. His confusion increased when Troy snorted at him. “What did I say that was so derisively amusing to you?”

“Who has a VCR in this day and age?” Troy asked jokingly. At the expression under Kitsune’s mask. his grin faded. “Oh shit, seriously?”

“What’s wrong with VCR?” Kitsune challenged.

“You’re in for a treat,” Troy replied instead of answering. Rather than bring a tape or even one of those discs Kitsune had heard about, he just brought out his mobile device and a sleek remote.

The digimon pretended like he wasn’t watching intently, trying to work out what Troy was doing. Somehow the human pressed enough things that the television began to show a movie theatre's worth of picture shows.

“Wanna watch anything?” Troy asked, gesturing to the television.

Kitsune scanned the screen. There was a superhero movie there that his eyes flicked over a few times. Troy must have seen where he was looking as he smirked at him. “A superhero movie?” He said it too politely to be anything but mocking, Kitsune knew his type.

He sniffed. “If you want, it’s your picture show player.”

Troy seemed to ponder it for a moment before grinning. “I’m interested to see what you’re gonna say while we’re watching it.” And he selected it.

“Speaking during picture shows is rude!”

“Just us, Kitsune. Just… you know, is there something else I can call you? Rather than your superhero name.”

“The media are the ones who dubbed me with the name,” Kitsune replied sourly. “Balance Warrior never caught on.”

“That’s nowhere near as marketable as Kitsune,” Troy pointed out. “Hey, it’s better than them just calling you Reppamon.”

“I suppose.”

“Royalties gotta be nice.”

“Royalties? What does the royal family have to do with anything?”

“You know…?” Troy asked, puzzled. “From the toys and stuff?”

“What toys?”

Troy frowned and stood up, leaving Kitsune to sneakily devour popcorn once eyes were off him. He vanished for a minute into his room before returning with a slightly-flustered tinge to his cheeks, holding a doll of a reppamon.

“You’re pretty marketable,” Troy said, setting it down. It flopped and Kitsune’s eyes bore into it, almost reflected in the blank eyes it sported.

“What is that?” he asked after a moment.

Troy took a swig of his drink for a long, long, moment. “Kinda figured you were behind it,” he said. “I’m guessing now they’re selling your likeness for profit?”

“What devils are behind this!?” Kitsune asked, getting louder with every sentence. “The tail is far too small, the face is far too cute, and it looks no different to any normal reppamon. Nothing like the bastion of strength of justice that I am!”

“I see modesty is still alive in today's superheroes.”

“You thought I condoned this and thought I was modest?” Kitsune asked before shaking his head. “I am modest, I’m just in pain.”

“Fair, and I have to change the dressings soon. I’ll do it once the movie gets good enough to distract you.”

“I cannot be distracted, the people call me Kitsune! Thus I protect and watch for all things.”

“Oh yeah, do I have to keep calling you that?”

“Just…” Kitsune sighed, lowering his head as if he was pouting. “Just… whatever.”

“Alrighty, Kitsune,” Troy sighed and they relaxed to watch the movie.

Despite his boasts, Kitsune did get distracted by the gaudiness of the superhero movie, making many pointed comments about the effects and legitimacy of the plot.

“And the romance is simply hacked in,” Kitsune sniffed, barely even noticing as Troy changed the dressings. “This is what passes for Hollywood these days?”

“You’re very funny, you know that?” Troy asked, having chuckled especially when Kitsune critiqued the superhacker skills displayed by the human superhero’s eye in the sky.

“My critiques are fair and unbiased, I come from a position of experience!”

“Exactly,” Troy agreed, still chuckling. “It’s funny listening to you trash on it.”

“I wasn’t-” He paused, thinking it over. “Trashing on it. It has… good effects.”

Troy gave a long, low, snort, shoulders shaking.

“What is so funny?”

“I need to watch more movies with you,” Troy said in lieu of explaining his madness.

The day carried on at a nice pace. The pain fought Kitsune’s attempts to get some rest, causing him to grumble and shift constantly.

“I’ll just get you something stronger from the pharmacy.”

“No leaving!”

“You can’t be for real, man. Mon.”

“Our agreement was sticking together because you’re in danger! Have you no self-preservation?”

“I’m a nurse.”

“Well… that’s fair but still, don’t go.”

“Fiine.”

Eventually, knowing the human was still there in range to be protected, Kitsune slipped in and out of a light doze.

The next day was much of the same, Troy speaking on the telephone device about calling in ill for the day after and they watched more movies.

On the next day, Troy dragged out a board game.

“You like old-fashioned things, right?” he asked, setting down a box of tiles and a board.

“Scrabble?” Kitsune asked, perking up because he was so bored he might die of it. “I don’t know, beating down civilians is against my moral code.”

“Ha. Haa,” Troy laughed as sarcastically as possible. “Well, carving up superheroes is apparently not against mine, so we’ll play anyway.”

‘I like this one,’ Blade commented as the board was set up.

‘You like anyone that talks about carving things up,’ Kitsune replied snottily.

The tail-blade blinked its eye at Troy in morse code but Troy didn’t know morse code. “So, what’s up with the tail?” he asked.

“It’s called Blade,” Kitsune answered, taking out some tiles to look over.

“You name parts of your body?”

“I hear many humans do the same for a part of theirs. Male ones at least.”

“...is the blade your dick?”

“WHAT?” Kitsune spluttered.

“You just said-”

“You have no filter.”

“You just said!”

They both glanced down at their tiles as Blade silently laughed at Kitsune. After a while, Kitsune said, “No, Blade is his own consciousness. Provides an extra eye on my back, which is almost worth the commentary he gives.”

“Huh…” Troy glanced at the large tail blade again, more curious this time. “Neat.”

“Neat?”

“I guess. Can’t be lonely then.”

“I suppose that’s a positive way to look at it.”

“You looked at me funny as you said that,” Troy pointed out. “How come?”

“Oh… nothing.”

Troy decided to start, he had the word Happy to start out with. “You’ve been here a couple days, you haven’t realised I’m a bright ray of sunshine yet?”

Kitsune looked almost like he was going to snort but didn’t. He pondered the board before setting down the word Lucky. “I’ve never really met anyone like you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” He went to add a word before realising somehow Blade had a tray and a set of tiles as well.

Blade set down the word Horse, levitating the tiles with a bit of effort.

“Huh.”

“He can do a little bit by borrowing off me,” Kitsune explained. He wouldn’t begrudge the tail sword for wanting to participate in something.

Troy nodded, accepting that. Looking over the board and tiles in silence before asking, “So… just out of curiosity. Why do you do the whole hero thing?” He set down the word Safety, his eyes lingering on the words a moment. “Especially on your… well, I suppose I can’t say on your own but… just as the one guy?”

Kitsune bobbed his head a little. “It’s the right thing to do.” He set the word Force down. “If we’re asking questions, why are you a nurse?”

Blade put down Suck. Troy didn’t hide a smirk as Kitsune flashed his tail a Look.

“Seemed like something to do.” Troy shrugged, taking a sip of his drink to swallow his smile.

Kitsune flashed him an odd look. “Not because it’s the right thing to do?”

“I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I get screamed at most days by people who seem to believe I’m the reason they’re sick and can’t go home. Doesn’t feel all that right at those times, but then I get the occasional person that I feel I’m actually helping.”

He found the word Cling and set it down with perhaps more force than necessary.

Kitsune was quiet for a while, staring thoughtfully at the board. Troy soon realised he was waiting for Troy to ask something. “Kinda seems like that sounds familiar to you?”

Kitsune blinked under his mask and then gave a raspy sound that might have been a laugh. “You are quite observant, Troy.”

“Gotta be.”

“I’m sure. Are you assessing me when we talk?” He set down the word Given.

Troy shook his head. “Only in nurse mode,” he answered as Blade stuck down Virgin.

“You have form changes like a Digimon?”

Troy smirked. “That’s a way to look at it. You’re not always in superhero mode are you?”

“Gotta be,” Kitsune mirrored.

Troy frowned at the board, eventually setting down the word Identity. “Doesn’t that get exhausting?”

Blade’s eye flicked to Kitsune who didn’t seem to know how to answer that.

He frowned at the board a while, instead of answering he put down Always.

Blade’s eye rolled and stuck down Yearn.

They played a few rounds more before conversation continued again. Kitsune’s face flashed in annoyance before he sighed, “Blade wants to say thank you for taking us in.”

Troy might have called the tail politer than Kitsune but instead nodded. “He seems sharp.”

That was definitely a compliment a sword liked and Kitsune rolled his eyes. “He knows you’re sucking up to him and accepts it as well.”

“Tch, I haven’t sucked up to anyone in years.”

Blade’s turn, he put down Horny.

“That is NOT a word in scrabble,” Kitsune protested.

Troy laughed, held up a finger, and looked it up. “Nope, it’s a valid word.”

“That is vulgar!” Kitsune declared hotly. “Bad tail!”

“That’s a bad tail alright,” Troy snickered.

“You are encouraging his deviant behaviour!”

Troy laughed. “You’re really uptight, mon, you know that? I’m not gonna go telling people that Kitsune’s tail put down the word horny in a game of scrabble. Wouldn’t hurt your rep if I did.”

Kitsune still seemed agitated, defiantly glaring and certainly not pouting at the mostly-filled board. “I have no words left.”

Troy stuck down a simple two lettered one. “You’ve got three tiles left! Gotta be something.”

“Nope.”

Blade winked at Troy.

“I think you do,” Troy said. “Also, wait, are you two cheating by sharing knowledge of your tiles?”

Kitsune’s ears were not in sight but if they were, Troy knew he’d have spotted them going straight up and rigid.

He narrowed his eyes.

Knowing he had no other choice now, Kitsune gave a weak sigh and set his tiles down. Fuck.

Troy laughed at the wounded expression on Kitsune’s face as if putting down such things was damaging to his purity.

“It’s a game,” Troy said, shaking his head.

A thoughtful frown took Kitsune’s face and he considered that. Blade was the winner of the game, somehow, by a sizable margin at that.

“I don’t often… play games,” Kitsune admitted once the game was packed up and Troy picked it up to set back.

“I couldn’t tell.”

“Sarcasm?”

“You’re learning!”

“That’s sarcasm too.”

“Tcheheh.”

Troy demanded he drink more water and then convinced Kitsune to let him leave for thirty minutes to get something from the gas station close by.

“You know?” Troy asked when he returned, Kitsune actually waiting at the door for him like a sad puppy. “I thought you were trapped in here with me, but I think it might be the other way around.”

After a week, Kitsune was able to put some pressure on his leg even if he was limping and thus, in Troy’s words, “Not going anywhere besides the morgue if you walk out.”

“I thought you were trapped in here with me,” Kitsune snarked. “But I think it might be the other way around.”

They’d both agree it was Troy’s dire threats and not the cosy apartment that convinced Kitsune to continue staying.

And so he did. A week turned into two. Movies and daytime television were absorbed, the news never even touched. Two weeks became three and Kitsune could walk without a cast.

Troy bit his lip as he watched the restless digimon traipse around the apartment. “You’re still limping,” he complained.

“I’m fine,” Kitsune insisted.

“You’ll get hurt!”

“Other people are getting hurt!” Kitsune retorted. “I have watched the news!”

“You watched the news? It’s depressing.”

“I know you were avoiding it,” Kitsune stated firmly. “When you were in the shower before, I turned the volume down last night and figured out the channel buttons on the television box.”

Troy sighed roughly and stomped up to the digimon, on two feet he still had a head and shoulders above the reppamon. He knelt down to palpate Kitsune’s leg, pressing various points until Kitsune winced in a way he couldn’t conceal.

“You’re still hurt. If that slows you down you could get killed, Kitsune! Just… stay, please, another three days at least.”

“Other people are being hurt,” Kitsune repeated, but his voice was left confident.

“Well, if you get taken out for good, more people will be hurt in the long run.”

The fact that Kitsune could simply leave at any point was never spoken of. Troy couldn’t avoid work forever but he convinced the digimon it was better to stay day after day.

Kitsune saw the concern on Troy’s face, smelled the apartment, checked the walls and every room. He was no snoop but boredom was agonising. He left things that were obviously private alone, even as Blade urged him to sate his curiosity entirely.

Troy relaxed a little every time he came back home. He spotted Kitsune looking out from the balcony as he returned and smiled when he did not wait at the door, instead the digimon was pretending he was asleep when Troy returned.

Without thinking, he stroked Kitsune’s back as he passed by. He snatched his hand away a second into it, face flushing red. Kitsune was perfectly still and Troy hurried away to change out of his work clothes and shower.

The heat of the shower didn’t ease the burn of his face. He hadn’t meant to do that, was that demeaning? Kitsune wasn’t a dog or a cat. Was he supposed to pretend that didn’t happen? He knew the digimon was awake, was he going to ask, was now the time he was going to leave? Was he even going to be out there when he returned?

The shower was running cold by the time Troy dragged himself out.

To his surprised relief, Kitsune was pottering around the kitchen. “Did unmentionable fluids splash you?” he asked, pointing out the long shower.

“Oh, don’t even get me started.” Troy drew closer, curious at what Kitsune was doing. The digimon was levitating things, pawing at objects below the countertop. There was a pleasant smell in the air and a soft bubbling sound he hadn’t noticed at first.

“Go ahead,” Kitsune said. “I hear talking is good for the soul, as is chicken soup.”

Oh. That’s what he was doing.

“You’re cooking?” Troy asked, a mixture of amazed and then wary. He had allowed Kitsune into his kitchen once and that was a disaster. “Are you sure?”

“I will eat it first,” Kitsune replied.

“So, we’ll both die, then?”

Kitsune snorted. “I would wonder at the rudeness if I wasn’t aware this is how you show affection, Troy.”

“Damn, you’re catching on. Next, you’ll be-” Troy stopped, too comfortable he was easily carried away into almost mentioning what he had just done.

Kitsune didn’t seem to notice, turning back to his work.

The apartment had never been cleaner. Even with Kitsune shedding fur everywhere, the dishes were all organised by size, colour, and likelihood of use, the bathroom gleamed like new porcelain and all his wall art had been adjusted to be uniform.

He, of course, undid that every day but Kitsune moved them back. A silent tug-of-war between them.

There was an odd energy in the air. Troy worried his lapse in judgement left Kitsune feeling awkward, he wasn’t talking much. Blade’s eye was very difficult to determine mood from, but it seemed to be pointed to the floor and never came up.

“So,” Kitsune began once a few spoonfuls of dinner had been taken in.

“It’s pretty good,” Troy said honestly, enjoying the surprising bite Kitsune added to the meal.

“My leg has recovered,” Kitsune said. Suddenly despite a spoonful of soup between his lips, Troy felt his mouth go dry.

He let the flavour swish in his mouth, sinking over every taste bud. Salt and spice leaving his mouth tingling and his body flushing.

He needed time to think. Kitsune sat at the table with him, he hadn’t needed the splint for weeks, a spoon levitating up and down, sliding into his mouth. It struck Troy then that he’d still never seen Kitsune’s face uncovered.

Even in sleep, the reppamon slept with a paw over his face and Troy wouldn’t cross that line even at his most tempted.

Troy glanced at the bowl of chicken noodle soup. “Is this a… goodbye gift, then?” he asked.

Kitsune nodded.

He frowned, unable to help himself. He’d really gotten used to having the hero around. Something to look forward to at the end of the day.

He sighed and plastered a very fake smile on his face. Troy had called it his Nurse Face before and he knew Kitsune would see right through it. “Well, I couldn’t keep you locked in forever,” he said, taking another generous portion of soup and slurping loudly.

Kitsune seemed to be staring at him, it was hard to tell at times with the mask covering the top half of his face. Troy wondered how he saw anything. He wondered if he should ask. It didn’t feel like the right time.

The reppamon didn’t speak, taking another few spoonfuls himself.

“...are you going to stay for tonight?” Troy asked, hoping the hope in his voice wasn’t embarrassingly obvious. “We can finish out the marathon and-”

“No,” Kitsune sighed, shaking his head. “I need to get back to my work, Troy. I can’t lay around any longer. I know you understand that, you’re caustic on the surface but you’re a nurse because you like helping people.”

Troy didn’t feel hungry anymore.

“Well,” he said lightly. “You better still visit, I got used to having a live-in maid. Cleans, even cooks for me!”

Kitsune shook his head slightly in amusement. “You’re a strange person, Troy.”

Kitsune then stuck his face in the bowl, quickly slurping the rest of it up and then shook his head. Some habits die hard.

Troy watched with a fond smile, one that he noticed Blade raising its eye at slightly. He composed himself when Kitsune finished behaving like a wild animal, licking his chops with his flat, pink, tongue.

“Don’t just drag yourself around here if you get hurt,” Troy said seriously. “Actually visit.”

Kitsune smiled slightly, a loopy expression that looked genuinely happy a moment before it became wooden. “I will see you around,” he said.

Troy wished he said it more believably.

Rather than take the elevator like a sane person, Kitsune’s preferred way to leave was leaping off the balcony.

They exchanged one last awkward word before Kitsune had leapt off into the night.

Troy stared at the empty bowl and his mostly-filled one. He sighed and wrapped plastic over his and placed it in the fridge.

He went to bed.

Sleep did not come easy, words flashing in his head about things he should have said and fantasising behind his eyelids.

As sleep was eluding him, he jumped when a sudden crash sounded at his door. Swiftly rolling out of bed, Troy grabbed the baseball bat by his bed and crept to his door, heart hammering.

He heard a brief, heavy, thump and it was all the warning he got before his own door flew open. He jumped back, but disorientated from being disturbed so suddenly left him helpless before a heavy weight slammed into his chest and knocked him back onto the bed. The bat rolled under the bed.

Pinned under something heavy and growling, he tried to grasp the bat but soon had a heavy paw press down painfully on his shoulder joint.

“Hey,” a deep voice growled, breathing a thick, moist, breath into his face. “Troy.”

“...Mel?” Troy coughed, recognising that voice and silhouette anywhere. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Meldar, Mel to his old friend Troy, raised a paw. “Catching up.” Then the paw descended and everything went black.

---

The next that Troy awoke, he couldn’t see anything at all nor could he move. Trying to move rubbed something tight and coarse against his bare arms and legs and that explained why he was cold, most of his clothes had been stripped off him.

Trying to open his eyes didn’t help as new sensations made its way through the haze of pain. His face was covered with something, hanging tightly around his face and fixed under his neck. It felt porous, moving slightly as he breathed in and out.

His legs were apart but he couldn’t move them, stuck against what felt like the legs of a chair. He could move his arms a little more but they were stuck behind his back, tied at the wrists in something strong and unyielding.

“You’re awake,” came a deep voice and Troy’s sluggish mind caught up to what was going on.

“Mel!” he yelled through the cloth, he tried to struggle more which rattled the chair he was stuck on but not much. His heart hammered in his chest as he yelled, “The fuck!? Let me go!”

His anger swiftly was cut as a heavy paw landed on his leg. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel the weight of the paw and felt the sharpness of the claws on that large foot.

“How sweet you can recognise me just by my voice,” Meldar replied. “Even after all these years and my evolution.”

The voice was deep, rattly and held an ever-present growl to it. Troy remembered what Mel used to sound like. He always had a deep voice but it lacked the… hungering malice that it possessed now. His voice filled the room, creeping through every crack and crevice and held a weight that almost physically pressed on the back of your neck.

He spoke softly, which was another change. Mel was a loud guy, but Meldar almost whispered when he spoke. “How have things been?” Meldar asked, the depth of his voice taking an almost mocking tilt as if they were catching up over coffee. “I hear you’re a nurse these days, making a difference in the community.”

Troy was grateful, then, that his face was covered. He swallowed thickly, really coming to grips with the position that he was in. He clearly waited too long to respond as the paw on his leg pressed down, the claws poking through his pants as Meldar growled, “Not shutting me out again, are you?”

Troy’s voice did not shake as he replied, “What the fuck do you want?”

“What? I can’t catch up with an old friend?” The pressure was growing, piercing the flesh of his leg. “You’re still too good for me, Troy?”

“I never said-”

Meldar’s paw suddenly slammed down and Troy screamed as he felt the bone snap.

He gave a strangled gasp as Meldar lifted his leg up, aftershocks of pain spasming the muscles in his leg. “There, you now can match your new bud,” he said in an almost pleasant manner. “It was the right leg that Kitsune broke, correct? Or should I just do the other to be sure?”

Troy shook as he pulled ragged breaths in his lungs, having grit his teeth so hard he was tasting blood. “It was the left,” he spat, lying through gritted teeth.

Meldar lay a paw gently on his left leg and Troy tensed, taking short, sharp, breaths as he nearly hyperventilated. Then, Meldar chuckled. “You would,” he growled in a fond manner, lifting his paw off the leg. “Well, see ya.”

Troy didn’t believe him until he heard the taps of his claws distancing themselves and called out, “What?”

The taps stopped as Meldar seemed to pause and consider. “Consider it a gift from one friend to another. I won’t kill you tonight. You can be bait again. Let’s hope your new street rat friend doesn’t take too long though, you know I don’t like sharing food.”

And then he walked out of whatever room they were in, leaving Troy tied to the chair with a broken leg.

The hours that followed, Troy lost count. His leg hurt far too much to be able to sleep and Meldar’s last words made it worse. He wouldn’t kill him tonight. Troy knew what he was doing but he hated that it worked nonetheless. The dread hurt worse than his leg did, he lost count of how many panic attacks he suffered, dehydrating himself.

It could have been hours, it felt like days.

It was so silent. He could hear nothing but the sound of blood rushing through his ears and a distant drop of water.

Eventually, Troy lost consciousness.

He awoke to a deafening bang.

The ground shook as something crashed through a wall, sending the wall and something heavy careening into the floor. It was followed by furious animalistic roars.

That was the best Troy could determine from the first moment of chaos. Sheer fury and nothing else.

Then, Digimon were brawling.

“DASH CLAW!”

“ LION CLAW!”

He knew both voices.

Bursts of light flashed through the covering over his face but he still couldn’t see anything, only hear as a terrible scraping of metal on metal helped him gather that Meldar’s attack had been blocked by Blade.

A partially-strangled yelping growl confirmed that Kitsune’s attack had landed where Meldar’s hadn’t.

An impact that knocked the wind out of the room itself had Troy gritting his teeth as Kitsune gave a staggered cough. He knew what was about to follow and cringed as the floor shook as one of Meldar’s back-claws snared Kitsune and smashed him into the ground.

Kitsune didn’t bother announcing his attack as an electrical zapping sound split the gaps in the silence and threw Meldar off him with his telekinetic abilities.

“Rolling,” Kitsune growled, the sound of him leaping forth hitting Troy’s ears.

“Spiral!” Meldar shouted, flipping into position.

Their next words were drowned out in the storm of violence that followed. Kitsune leapt into a gale of wind that blew Troy back from the ricocheting wind, his pounce pressed back by Meldar’s attack until he was thrown back against the ground.

Meldar’s claws hit the roof, giving a vicious scrape before he pounced down, slamming onto Kitsune’s back with full force. Troy heard something crack but Kitsune didn’t even yelp.

Bodies smacked against each other as they struggled mere metres from Troy. An air-cutting zing sounded out and Meldar gasped sharply as the sound of slicing flesh met Troy’s ears. Another whistling hum had Meldar thrown off Kitsune but whatever Blade had done was clearly not enough as Meldar roared again, wind burst again, and Troy couldn’t hear again.

Once his hearing returned, the brawl was still going on. Devastating punches bruising flesh as Meldar used four of his limbs at once. The sound of something straining as it was squeezed and Kitsune’s laboured breath was forced out of his lungs before Blade flung between his legs, forcing Meldar to throw him back or risk losing an eye.

The pounding of claws on the broken floor was met by savagery as Meldar barrelled into Kitsune with a sound like wood breaking and finally pinned him to the floor.

“Haaa!” Meldar growled, power audibly building in his mouth. Troy, staggered but not stunned from being thrown around, recognised it immediately. He’d seen the bodies left by Meldar’s gaoga hound bite.

“MELVIN!” he screamed, he was still bound and unable to do anything but call out in the vain hope he could do something. “DON’T, PLEASE WHAT DO YOU WANT!?”

He heard Meldar snarl and then speak, “What makes you think I want anyth-”

Troy couldn’t do anything. Except distract the monster he had once known for a second.

Kitsune threw his whole body weight up, slamming the top of his mask against Meldar’s chin with a deafening crack. Meldar roared and a second, heavier, crack was followed by a clattering.

“Its face is revealed,” Meldar spat, the sound being the loss of Kitsune’s mask. “Not that there is much to reveal.”

If he expected Kitsune to cower back in an effort to regain his mask, he clearly did not realise how angry the superhero was.

Kitsune didn’t respond, did not engage in Letting the Villain Talk. His eyes revealed, his mask unable to bind any of his telekinetic power back, he didn’t even try to hold it back.

Troy heard a sound like all the air in the world being ejected into space. His ears popped as sound itself seemed to be swallowed up by a vacuum.

By the time the sound returned.

There was only one voice panting for breath. The softer clicks of smaller claws on the ground reassured Troy better than anything could have at the moment. Something was lifted from the floor and fixed before Troy found himself being pulled up as if by a magnet.

The bag was pulled off his head and he could see Kitsune approaching him, exhaustion and relief clear on his face even as it was covered in his mask again. The mask was cracked and most of the fur had been torn off but it still covered his eyes.

Troy finally realised perhaps it wasn’t so much a matter of trusting Troy that left Kitsune wanting to hide his face, but perhaps trusting himself.

“Are you okay?” Kitsune asked, limping over to him. Blade moved like a surgeon's scalpel, slicing through the ropes binding his legs and arms.

Troy looked around. The room he was in looked to be some sort of store room with wooden boxes stacked in a corner, getting smashed in at some point in the fight. The light was not on but a small dangling one lay in the middle of the room with a chord. One of the walls had been taken down, despite being made of half a metre of solid cement, smothering the floor in dust and fragments of stone.

Melvin lay on a pile of them, unmoving. He’d gone limp, the gaogamon’s extra arms splayed around him with nary a twitch.

He couldn’t think about that now.

“I’m fine,” he said through chapped lips. Kitsune raised a paw to his head, hesitating before touching him. “You can,” Troy assured him. He winced as Kitsune did, realising one of the tumbles he took had cut his head and heads tended to bleed a lot.

“You are not fine,” Kitsune determined. “Can you stand?”

“I….” He wasn’t sure. He went to try, favouring his left leg but just trying to stand on a broken one had him nearly fall. Kitsune, being a quadruped, couldn’t catch him but he just slumped back onto the chair. “My leg is broken,” he muttered, laying a hand where Melvin had broken it.

A flash of anger went over Kitsune’s face as Blade began to swing. It might have looked like a happy gesture if he was a dog, but the glare on Blade’s face was clear to see.

“No, Blade,” Kitsune sighed. “We’ll let the authorities deal with him.”

Troy blinked, not quite following that.

Kitsune, rather than explaining himself like a reasonable person, did the entirely unreasonable thing of lowering himself down like a horse. “I’ll help you onto my back, it won’t be comfortable but you’ll just have to hold on with your arms hopefully.”

“Okay,” he said, finding things like questions weren’t important at the moment. He had to balance on Kitsune’s shoulder and hop a little and rather embarrassingly rolled onto Kitsune’s back.

The smartass part of Troy’s brain urged him to say something like, “This wasn’t how I imagined riding you.” But he was in too much shock to figure out how to say it.

The matter was made even more awkward considering he was bigger than Kitsune, but it was this or being dragged by the neck of his shirt and this was slightly better.

Kitsune rose up and then began to walk, doing his best not to limp. Troy wasn’t sure if he should look at Melvin but he couldn’t help himself, staring at someone he had once known so well. Someone who had become something he could barely recognise.

Melvin, who came from a rough place and hated his name and so they only called him that when they wanted to piss him off. Funny how that had slipped out so easily earlier, he had wanted Melvin to put his attention on him to give Kitsune that chance to slip out. He hadn’t even thought about using his actual name, he simply had because that’s what they did when they wanted to piss him off.

Melvin who had the brains and ambition to be something.

Melvin who had become this.

…weren’t digimon meant to-?

Kitsune grabbed the gaogamon in his telekinesis and began dragging him after them and that was when Troy realised that he hadn’t killed Melvin.

“He-He’s alive?” he managed. He felt air move behind him as Blade waved back and forth, agitated again as Kitsune nodded.

“I would not take this life. Not even his, but he will not hurt you again. Maybe it’s not too late for him.”

Troy nodded, somehow despite what Melvin had done to him he was relieved to hear it.

“Hold on tight,” Kitsune said and then he really began to move. Troy did as he was asked, holding onto him until they were outside again as the superhero Kitsune saved the day.

---

A nurse had not made for a good patient. Kitsune carried him to the hospital before dragging Meldar off to the police office. Sitting in the waiting room with Kitsune and the unconscious Meldar made for a very awkward fifteen minutes.

Troy was restless in hospital for two days. The leg was quite bad, having been left for nearly a day in a badly broken state, and he was severely dehydrated with shock on top of it to worsen his condition.

Being heavily medicated had reduced the worst of the pain and emotional reactions but left Troy restlessly sluggish.

Strangely, the idea of how he was getting home never occurred to him. Not until the hospital was pushing him out the door.

“I don’t have my phone, wallet, or any way to get help home. What am I going to do?” he asked.

“Kitsune is waiting for you,” the nurse replied, urging him to get on and out.

“He. What?”

He stumbled a little but made his way to the exit quickly, not sure why Kitsune hadn’t met him further in.

Kitsune sat in the foyer, many eyes fixed on him as he waited. He was wearing a hat as if that had any ability to conceal his identity whatsoever. He wasn’t the only reppamon in the world of course, but anyone who saw him around would think it was the superhero.

Blade wagged when Troy came into sight, despite the human awkwardly moving forwards on crutches.

“Stop that,” Kitsune said to his tail who just blinked owlishly at him and wagged harder.

“Happy to see me,” Troy joked, smiling.

Kitsune opened his mouth to refute that before pausing and nodding. “I am happy to see you are okay, I was very concerned.”

They were in public which was dangerous and so Kitsune steadied him, the cast around his leg awkward and difficult to walk, before trotting outside with him.

Once they were outside, Troy felt gravity abandon him as he floated up. “Woah,” he said, the feeling of weightlessness making him feel like he was going to fall. Kitsune guided him roughly over his back, which just looked a little goofy.

“Hold on,” Kitsune warned and once he felt Troy’s grip around his scruff he began to race forwards at a speed that probably broke the city speed limits.

“Where are we going?” Troy asked.

“Home.”

“What, I get to see where you live?” Troy teased.

“I live in an alleyway,” Kitsune replied. “Which is no environment for you.”

“...an alleyway, that’s really sad.”

And with painkillers still dulling his nerves, it seemed like no time at all before Kitsune was opening his door. It looked different than it used to.

“Landlord repaired the door,” he explained.

“It was broken?” Troy asked sleepily.

“So was your bedroom door,” Kitsune said, though it had not been repaired as well. He carried Troy into his room, while the door had been broken the mess had still been cleaned. Everything had, actually.

Kitsune levitated him onto his bed and laid blankets on top of him.

“Thank you, mother,” Troy said snarkily.

“I’ll make you some hot soup,” Kitsune returned with utter sincerity. He even stroked Troy’s head. “I’m sure that’ll make you feel better.”

“When did you learn sarcasm?”

“Sarcasm?”

Troy couldn’t tell if the reppamon was fighting a smile back or not, he was too tired to and that made him unnecessarily angry. As Kitsune turned to leave he felt a spike of fear that he hated. “Wait!”

Kitsune paused. “Yes?” he asked, glancing back.

Feeling embarrassed, like he was a little kid again not wanting to be left at home alone. “I… movies are better with company, y’know?”

This time, Kitsune smiled. “You want company?”

“...wouldn’t you?”

Kitsune thought back to Troy helping him all the way up here and onto that very couch. He had thought he wanted to limp off to hide in an alleyway, it took him too long to admit to himself that he had leaned into Troy the first moment he got.

It was a lonely life.

He’d never seen anyone come around here, no phone calls or plans with friends. Troy claimed he had work buddies but Kitsune could say the same about other ‘superheroes’ he vaguely knew.

“Yeah,” Kitsune answered. “But I’m just getting the popcorn, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

“...oh.”

Now he was smirking. “Nice that you want me around though.”

“Silence.”

“I’m afraid to say, but I’m the nurse now,” Kitsune retorted. “And if I recall correctly, that means you have to do what I say.”

Troy’s expression was the flattened type that threatened consequences but then he chuckled. “Well, I couldn’t be in better h, uh… paws.”

They sat on the couch together watching a medical movie Troy could pick apart until he fell asleep against the digimon. Kitsune floated a blanket over him but couldn’t go anywhere because his leg was caught.

This was okay, he couldn’t wake him up after all.

A day passed.

Then a week.

Troy had never had so much free time, paid time off no less though it was coming out of his sick leave. As he never took any, there was months saved up.

Kitsune wasn’t always there during the day but he always showed up at least once every twenty-four hours. Sometimes limping. Limping often, actually.

A broken leg wasn’t stopping Troy from patching the hero up, nor did it stop him from snarking at him. “Soon enough I’m going to chop this off,” he said, bandaging that same leg that kept on getting injured. “Seriously, did the gang bangers all decide this leg has to go?”

“It just never fully heals,” Kitsune replied, stoic in the face of pain or injury.

“You know what takes to heal it?” Troy asked.

“I’m sure I do but I’m surer you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“You’re damn right.” Troy clapped Kitsune on the rump, causing the digimon to jump. “Rest. How about you take tomorrow off?”

He’d asked him to take a few months off. Then one month. Then a week. He was getting worn down to asking for just a day, just one day for Kitsune to hang the cape up.

“You know I-”

“Please,” Troy said, causing Kitsune to stop cold. Troy said a lot of things to try and convince him to rest, he told him, ordered him, tried to convince him. What stopped him was realising that Troy had never said please before.

The digimon turned his head towards the human, seeing raw concern on his face. Troy reached forward, laying a hand on Kitsune’s cheek beneath the mask. With a finger twitch he could remove the mask, but he didn’t.

“I know you won’t stop being a hero,” Troy said softly. “But I hate watching you grind yourself down like this. You are going to get yourself killed, then who’s going to save the day? Come on, if you can’t look after yourself, what makes you think you can keep looking after the city?”

There were no actual holes for eyes in Kitsune’s mask but Troy knew he was looking into his own anyway.

“I… I don’t know. I feel like I’d be letting someone down. If I read in the paper about someone I could have helped, but I wasn’t there….”

“Then don’t read the paper,” Troy replied. “Listen, listen to me, Kitsune. I don’t know why you do the stuff you do, the city’s such a fucked up place. You ever wonder how someone like me became a nurse?”

Kitsune inclined his head. “I believe I asked you this question before. You said it was something to do, if I recall correctly.”

Troy smirked, leaning back. “Yeah, I bet I did say that. I think you went on to say I’m a nurse because I like helping people… I thought that you were way too naive, a boy scout. Way too Superman for a Gotham-like city.”

He looked down. He’d had a lot of sleep lately, but he still looked tired. “It’s not some big tragic story or anything that tied in with Mel. I just. I did want to help, help people when they couldn’t help themselves. You see enough people die because they hate themselves, or other people hate them.”

He looked back up. “You hold enough people’s hands as they die alone because no one else is there for them. It jades you. Doesn’t it?” He looked to Kitsune. “Doesn’t your life jade you? You see even worse people than I do.”

Kitsune might have shook his head if anyone else had asked him that. To Troy, for Troy, he let himself reflect.

“...no,” Kitsune answered after some time paused.

Troy blinked. “What?”

Kitsune shook his head. “It doesn’t jade me because I remind myself why I do it. When I race by and the children stop to cheer and wave. I know I can’t fix the problems of the city, but what I want to do is inspire others.”

“Is that why you wanted to be a hero, then?” Troy asked.

To his surprise, Kitsune once again shook his head. “Same as you, actually. I just wanted to help. I didn’t have anyone who would miss me, I figured if I could do one good thing with my life then it was worth living. Over time, I found it really did call to me. I know you think it’s naive of me, but-”

“I don’t,” Troy cut in. “Not anymore. But. Maybe you didn’t have anyone who would miss you before….”

“The city doesn’t count,” Kitsune replied, shaking his head.

“No, you weasel. Me! I would miss you.”

Kitsune looked up at him in surprise and then, bashfully, glanced away. “Oh, is that so?” he asked nervously.

“Yeah,” Troy said heavily, breathlessly. “I would miss you, because I miss you every night or day, wondering if I’ll see you again.” Kitsune glanced down and Troy shuffled forward. “But… the fact that you do it, always do it, I admire that. I almost can’t believe you’re not jaded but I believe you. You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t such a chronic hero case.”

“I do have a bit of a hero case, don’t I?” Kitsune laughed softly. He noticed Troy’s hand had found its way back to his face. “Troy?”

“Can I take it off?” Troy asked softly. He could feel Kitsune hesitate more than he felt it. “I know you won’t hurt me, even if you say no.”

He felt Kitsune deliberating, he was such a thinker even though he responded so swiftly in combat. Eventually, he nodded.

With a nervous thrill in his heart, Troy raised his hand until his thumb could hook into the nose of the mask, adding his other fingers until he could grip it. The mask still bore a crack from the fight against Mel.

It lifted off easier than Troy had figured it would, revealing Kitsune’s face. Just like the inspiration for the digimon, his face resembled a weasel, a little black-tipped snout, soft blue eyes and roundish ears.

Troy smiled at him as he saw him, unable to stop himself from saying, “You’re so cute.”

Kitsune immediately pouted as Blade waggled in amusement. “Dammit, Blade.”

“Blade bet I’d say that?”

Blade bobbed up and down in a nod.

“What did he win?” Troy asked, setting the mask down gently. Kitsune was always expressive, even with the mask, but he was truly ‘unmasked’ now, unable to conceal his expression by controlling his mouth.

His inner ears pinkened as did his nose and the light fur around his eyes, looking down. “I, well, nothing important.” Blade seemed to disagree, clattering on the floor twice. “Careful, that is Troy’s floor.”

Troy wouldn’t be distracted. “What did he bet, cutie?”

Blade’s eye narrowed in amusement as Kitsune flustered. “You mustn’t say that, Troy!”

“Why not?” Troy challenged. Kitsune, never one to back down from one, pointed his eyes right up at Troy. They stared each other down for a moment, Troy’s heart never slowing from the anticipation of lifting Kitsune’s mask.

The blue eyes of the digimon literally glowed with inner power, something he kept tightly controlled with both willpower and his mask. The mask was set aside and his willpower was fighting something else.

“Because,” Kitsune said in a low voice, almost a growl. “It’ll be hard to stop myself… and you’re still not at full health.”

Now it was Troy’s turn to wonder at the wordplay going on. “What did you bet, Kitsune?”

Within a blink, Troy found himself on his back against the chair, a digimon taking up his chest to legs, the heavy bladed tail clunking on the ground and leaving a mark.

Despite it all, Kitsune hesitated. “Troy, uh.”

“Shut up,” Troy said, pulling Kitsune’s head against his and pressing their mouths together.

He was bigger than Kitsune, but the digimon had a stronger, more flexible tongue and there was an intensity to their first kiss. A melding of heat and months of repressed desire caused fangs to graze Troy’s lips and their chests to meet as Kitsune pinned him against the chair.

Troy could feel his hair moving as, even with Kitsune’s eyes closed, there was a aura of energy around him that was pressing against Troy’s skin. It felt almost like a ghost, or slightly-pressured air, drifting around his scalp and neck, drifting beneath his shirt, beneath his pants, and slipping further down.

Needing air, Kitsune let the kiss break and they panted against each other. Troy realised he had already captured the digimon in a hug, not letting him go. His hands quickly went to work, removing the scarf the reppamon wore as Kitsune attacked his neck.

Feeling sharp teeth graze a most vital area sent a thrill up Troy’s spine and he couldn’t help but moan against him. Dragging a hand down the digimon’s spine, pressing his nails in to give Kitsune a shiver of his own.

Kitsune released his neck from his maw and breathlessly said, “Should we, uh, talk about-”

“Nope,” Troy said, grabbing Kitsune around his waist and lifting him up. Blade made him heavier but also lay against the ground, making it easy for Troy to pivot him around and drop him on the chair in his place.

“Blade doesn’t mind if I suck your dick, right?” Troy asked, taking his shift off.

Kitsune blushed scarlet as he did so, mumbling, “He says something about getting cockblocked if you didn’t but I wouldn’t know what something so indecent means and- ooh my god.”

Troy had placed his hand on Kitsune’s inner thigh, looking with eager fascination as the digimon’s pride stirred. “Is this okay?” Troy asked, very mindful of Kitsune’s feelings at the moment.

Kitsune nodded. “Just, I just, I’ve never actually-”

“That’s all good, Kitsune,” Troy purred, causing the digimon to trail off. “I want you to feel good, however much you want.”

His hand glided along the fine inner fluff until his fingers curled around Kitsune’s sheath. He was already hardening up, tapered length sliding forth with a droplet of precum beading at the tip of his cock. Kitsune gasped as Troy’s hand began to massage his sheath, pulling a moan from him as he grew harder.

Troy’s other hand ran itself through the fluff of his belly before sliding down to meet his other hand. That one slipped his cock between his fingers, gathering the precum to slicken the rest of his length as he began to pump.

Kitsune’s back legs kicked a little as Troy massaged him, soft moans escaping his mouth before he asked, “Should I, be, ah, doing s-something too?”

“Just relax, babe,” Troy insisted. “I want you to focus on yourself and enjoy it, tell me if you need anything. I’m all ears.”

He leaned in, taking in the digimon’s musk with a few deep breaths before Kitsune’s sheath was mostly pulled back, letting that hand cup his balls and give them a very gentle squeeze. He got a leg kick and moan from that and Troy smiled, squeezing the reppamon’s cock before pulling his cock up and angling it back.

He rubbed the cock against his lips, keeping them pinched as he pressed harder, slowly parting his lips with Kitsune’s member and sinking several inches into his mouth.

Troy’s tongue may not have been as nimble as Kitsune’s, but he could still do work with it, lapping at the length that invaded its space as he savoured the taste of his precum. Strongly salty and carrying just a hint of that same strange energy that was surrounding him.

Kitsune was told to relax, but those powers of his did what they wanted and Troy felt as if something was slowly surrounding him. Like soft fingers brushing under anything and everything, grazing up his calves, pulling at his hair, and surrounding his groin most of all.

He couldn’t help but give a pleased moan as those feather touches stimulated him. It was so light, so very soft and gentle, just enough to send a thrill up his spine and get him harder in his pants.

Bobbing his head firmer, Troy worked Kitsune’s dick like he had a goal in mind. And he did, get that thing in his throat.

Kitsune was panting, each breath seeming to cause the aura to shift and shake as he did. His back legs began to tremble slightly as they wanted to close in around Troy’s head but he didn’t want to risk hurting him. The human's mouth was so warm and wet, each suckle a thunderbolt down his spine. It felt so good he forgot the aches and pains across his body, relaxing in pleasure against the soft material of the chair.

“Troy,” Kitsune murmured like a growl. “Trrroyyy.”

“Mmhm?” He looked up, feeling Kitsune’s length throbbing hard in his mouth.

“I’m about to,” Kitsune managed. “Haaa, things might b-break if-”

Troy’s eyes said he trusted him and he pressed down hard. Kitsune howled as Troy’s throat bulged, accepting the length down it. He gagged but it was lost in the orgasm, Kitsune’s back legs snapping around Troy’s shoulders as if to hold him as his hits demanded he buck hard into him.

Troy’s eyes went wide and he felt the ‘soft breeze’ turn into a gale for several long moments, books flapped as they were knocked off the bookshelf as Kitsune lost his control for a few seconds.

But, Troy was unharmed. Even lost to the pleasure, Kitsune could never hurt him and Troy rode out the digimon’s orgasm as warmth was spurted down his throat and into his belly. He continued to suck, drowning out his gag reflex until Kitsune shook, pulling back to let the rest of his orgasm splash over his tongue.

Slowly, Troy extracted Kitsune from his mouth. He felt like he was lifting for quite a while and was briefly shocked at how much he’d taken, coughing up the taste of cum before licking his lips.

He looked Kitsune over, the digimon was sagged into the recliner panting as his dick continued to twitch. Blue eyes were almost crackling with energy and staring off into space before they flicked to him.

“That was,” Kitsune began, deep and flustered. “Amazing.”

Troy chuckled bashfully. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He felt Kitsune’s eyes on him, literally felt it. It was a fascinating experience to have the element of this energy charging all around him, he could feel when Kitsune’s ideas formed. “So, you were always curious about my tattoo’s, right?”

Kitsune was a lithe creature, agile and swift despite his tail. It took him less than a moment to get the better of the clumsy human but when Troy found himself falling, it was slow like he was being dipped in a waltz.

“Right.”

The energies cradled him, energy pulling at his pants to join where he’d thrown his shirt and soon he found himself almost bared to the digimon. Floating in space, still feeling like he was falling just really, really, slowly. From there, Kitsune could take in all of Troy’s tattoos. The one he had spotted a while back around his tailbone had intrigued him the most, but the underwear still shielded some of it from view.

Kitsune sniffed at his crotch, poking his nose directly against the precum-wetted patch on Troy’s last remaining article of clothing.

Understanding what Kitsune sought, his own quiet allowance to proceed, he slipped his fingers around the band and tugged them down, letting his dick spring out and smack Kitsune on the nose.

For a moment, the overly-polite digimon looked shocked at such indecency but then he smiled, a hungry look in his eyes. The tattoo was a trail of flowers sprouting from a root that danced all around his lower body.

He had a long tongue but sharp teeth and Kitsune brought his shining eyes up to Troy’s as he began to lap at his length.

The digimon craned his head up as Troy remained suspended above him, letting his teeth show a few times as his long time lapped at different sides of the humans length, tracing a bulbing vein and flicking the precum bubbling at the top off and into his hungry maw.

“I’m afraid,” Kitsune said, in between laps. “With my teeth and your girth, to do the same as you did to me in my untrained, overeager, state might inadvertently injure you. And then the activities would end.”

He was still talking fancy, but Troy couldn’t help but find that so endearing. He didn’t quite expect what Kitsune did next.

The digimon was smaller than him, sure, but not by much and besides that, there was no question who was more powerful between them. Kitsune had one-shot Meldar and tackled with criminals, many of which being other digimon, and always returned.

So, he wasn’t expecting him to turn around, lift Blade who had the gall to wink at him, and crouch his upper body to the floor. He exposed his rump to Troy, stepping to spread his legs apart.

“Assuming you don’t injure yourself on Blade, again.” Kitsune shook his butt, balls hanging down as his cock slapped his belly eagerly. “This would suffice, yes?”

Troy landed on the ground gently, body under his own power again. Kitsune could manhandle his body as he pleased but he offered a release from control to him. Troy felt it in his chest even as he felt really, unbelievably, lucky.

He grabbed the digimon’s rump with his left hand and spread him. Troy traced a playful finger, sliding it up where the fur thinned out to nothing but skin, a pink hole winking back at him as it was circled. “You’re cute from this end too,” he couldn’t help but tease. Kitsune growled at him, but it didn’t seem annoyed, just wanting.

“Make my legs tremble,” Kitsune blurted out, ears tilting as he embarrassed himself. He didn’t stop, however. “Make me howl, Troy. F-fuck me until you cum. Make me beg for it.”

Well, he couldn’t say no to that.

“Lube,” he said and Kitsune growled again, annoyed he wasn’t rawdogging him. From his bedroom, the sound of drawers opening before a bottle flew forth. “How did you know?”

“I’m nosy,” Kitsune answered. “Now, please, please, please I need you to take me.”

“Okay, okay,” Troy said, smacking his butt lightly and causing him to yelp. “But I’m not hurting you.” A finger was drenched in the slick fluid and it guided itself into Kitsune without much preamble, Kitsune moaned, clenching around just the one finger. “See, that’s just one.”

“Grr, I can take it,” Kitsune said, pressing back until he was down to the knuckle. Troy curled that one in him a few times until a second finger pressed insistently against him, scissoring him open.

To that, Kitsune panted a little, shaking his rump some more. “Blade wants you too, Troy. We’re both begging you, please.”

“Blade is begging?” Troy asked, looking to the tail. He traced a hand around the eye before gripping it carefully. “Blade has to learn patience.”

Kitsune whimpered as a third finger penetrated him, spreading him wider as more and more lube was drizzled into him. “Trrroy,” he moaned pleadingly.

“What if I want to make you cum like this?” Troy asked, his other hand curling around the base of Kitsune’s cock and beginning to stroke down over and over. “You’re pretty cute like this, you know?”

Kitsune growled.

Troy was a nurse, but he wanted to be a vet once, he knew quite a lot of anatomy and to that growl he pressed his middle finger purposefully. Kitsune’s growl melted into a desperate moan as his prostate was lightly massaged, back legs trembling a moment. A few of the fallen books tried to stand before falling over.

“Do you want me to beg?” Kitsune asked, the proud hero who had never begged a villain for mercy.

“Of course not,” Troy soothed, finally drawing his fingers out of him and causing a pitiful whine to escape him. That whine turned to an excited sound as he felt Troy grind against his balls. “I want to make you feel good.”

The human's thick-tipped cock strained to break through Kitsune’s tight rear before the reppamon pressed back, sinking the tip and the first inch in. He yowled in a mixture of pain and pleasure as Troy hissed in enjoyment as his dick was enveloped by heated tightness.

Seeking Troy’s pleasure, Kitsune pushed back further until Troy’s hands caught his rump and held him in place. “Nuh, uh,” he said with a strained voice.

“Troy, please,” Kitsune begged.

Troy wouldn’t deny that hearing the Superhero Kitsune beg for him appealed very much to a feeling of domination, but what felt even better was feeling him clench around him in pleasure. He brought a hand around and began to jack him firmly, pushing Kitsune to move forwards before thrusting himself forwards.

Seesawing half of his cock out of the smaller beast, Troy started a firm pace pressing eagerly into Kitsune and letting the digimon press back needily.

With each meeting of their motions, he sunk further into him, spreading his walls apart until Kitsune’s rump began to butt against his groin and Troy gave a hard thrust, his balls slapping against Kitsune’s.

The digimon moaned, claws digging at the carpet as Troy leaned over him, pressing him down with more of his weight. The reppamon was strong, strong enough to support him easily, taking it all as he was fucked by the human.

With Troy’s hands bunching up in his fur, Kitsune was finally reduced to just moans as they rocked together hard. Energy continued to build around them as Troy moaned, his length being squeezed and massaged by the powerful digimon’s walls, coaxing, begging, for him to paint them white.

Laying his head on the floor, Kitsune relished in giving up control for once, letting Troy ram into him exactly as he wished, that wonderful hand still rubbing and squeezing around his own length, staining the floor with precum as the sound of their coupling rang out through the apartment.

Sooner than Kitsune may have wished, he could feel his body growing warm and feverish again, felt the shocks of pleasure racing from his dick up his spine as a pleasure button continued to be hit in his body.

His back began to arch as he began to make sounds that were not words, nothing a human could make, but the message was clear. Troy let his cock go, gripping onto his waist with both hands to jackhammer him.

With his dick slapping against his own belly, Kitsune couldn’t handle it anymore. He bit the floor, grunting in agonised pleasure as his balls emptied another load over the carpet, pushing himself back on Troy’s member as he tried to swallow him up. His whole body tensed and relaxed and tensed and relaxed with each spurt of his cock, as if years of tension were being washed away by a massage that went into everything.

He felt Troy press harder against him, thrusts growing sloppy and erratic and his mind screamed for the human to unleash himself in him. He could imagine battling some ne'er do well while Troy’s cum dripped down his hindlegs, the superhero Kitsune indulging in such debauchery.

Kitsune’s hips kept moving as Troy finished inside him, humping against the air and jostling the human just that little bit extra until Troy moaned, falling back from him. He continued humping the air a few seconds longer before sliding down onto the floor, panting for breath.

The sounds of their breathing joining each other in the quiet room.

The fantasy of going out like this faded as Kitsune felt a weary kind of affection overtake him. He managed to recover first, standing on wobbly legs before he righted himself.

Silently, he lifted Troy and carried him to bed.

“Don’t go,” Troy said, grasping at Kitsune’s shoulder as he turned slightly.

Kitsune paused and turned to him with a smile. “I was just going to clean up.”

“Don’t care,” Troy said, gesturing for him to get up. Kitsune did, marvelling at the plush of the bed that Troy slept in every night. “Come over here.”

Troy pulled him into a hug, kissed his snout, and buried his face in his fluff. Kitsune felt tired, very tired. He nuzzled back against Troy, one night would be okay.

---

Kitsune had never known the joys of having a home base.

Living in alleyway to alleyway, moving frequently as the seasons changed and people risked growing wise to his location. Various cardboard boxes had been his sanctuary, discarded objects his treasures.

He felt no shame for where he had come from, but he also knew he would never go back to it if he had a choice.

He worried, of course he did, about Troy’s wellbeing. However, a whole apartment complex made it difficult to determine where exactly he stayed and his own strength stopped any potential threats from trying their luck.

Not that that mattered all that much now.

Regular sleep, good food, and better company had done wonders for the hero of Luster City. No longer a city besieged, Meldar’s capture had ultimately inflicted a pretty telling blow to the criminal undercity.

People seemed to be doing better.

Kitsune didn’t stop his hero work, this was what he wanted to do with his life. He wasn’t home every night, or every day, but he always came home.