CHAPTER 11
Niko lay on a warm, plush surface covering something tough underneath. It was almost like lying on a field of soft grass or moss obscuring the soil level below. But this surface moved, slowly, up and down, and somewhere deep beneath he could hear, even feel, a rhythmic pulsing. It was soothing to lie there and be lulled by the feel of soft black fur blanketing firm muscles, with the constant, steady drum of the heartbeat.
No. Something about that was wrong. Black fur? It was supposed to be red and white. No, no, this was wrong, this was bad, this was dangerous. He sat up and looked around in alarm, only to find himself staring up at a black wolf’s condescending yet expectant face.
“Now. Give me what I want.”
“N-no,” he said. “I can’t. I won’t.”
And suddenly he was held in a vicelike grip. “You’re making me angry! So angry! Now I have to hurt you! It’s your fault!”
“Your choice...your choice to be violent or not.” Someone had told him that. Maybe more than one person. But it only served to enrage the wolf further. He was being crushed. It hurt, so bad, so very bad, and then it got even tighter, and his entire body was in the worst pain he could imagine, and then it got tighter, and this was it, he was going to die, this was going to kill him, it wasn’t fair, he wasn’t ready to die, he wasn’t ready to—
Niko opened his eyes, disoriented. Just another nightmare, he told himself. Nothing to worry overmuch about. Rubbing his eyes, he checked his phone. Seven-thirty in the morning. Earlier than he’d usually get up, but too late to go back to sleep. And besides, the nightmare might be waiting for him if he did. He sighed and rolled out of bed before heading to his and Kelsen’s shared kitchen area, where the gray wolf was already up and munching happily on a bowl of his favorite, way-too-sugary cereal. “Morning, Ni—whoa. What happened to you last night?”
“Nothing.” Niko opened the cupboard and rummaged around until he found his coffee fixings. Sure, they’d be easier to find if he put them back neatly in the same place every day like Kelsen, but that was too much effort. Once he’d put the ingredients into his coffee maker, turned it on, and put them back away, he took a seat at the counter next to his best friend. “Morning to you too.”
“That’s not nothing. What is it? Another nightmare?”
“Ugh. Yeah.”
“...It’s been a few months, hasn’t it?”
“Something like that. Since before I stopped seeing...you know.”
“How bad was it?”
“Not bad. Same old shit. He tries to make me do something, I refuse, he starts hurting me, I tell him he doesn’t have to resort to violence, he does anyway. Basically exactly how things played out in real life. Just faster and blurrier.”
“Maybe you should go see that doctor again, if the nightmares are back.”
“Just one. And it’s not ‘interfering with my everyday activities’, so there’s no need.” Kelsen frowned, so Niko rolled his eyes and continued. “But if it starts happening regularly again, I will let you know. And if it starts impacting my daily life, I’ll talk to you about seeing her again. Deal?”
“All right.”
…
Fyche stopped outside Ralia’s door. He’d been surprised by her request, but in hindsight, perhaps he shouldn’t have been. He knocked twice and waited, paws clasped behind his back. “Fyche? That you?” asked Ralia, her voice muffled.
“Y-yeah, it’s, uh, it’s me.”
He could hear her undoing the lock, and then the door swung open, revealing her standing there with a broad grin. “Hey there! Thanks for coming. I know it was kind of weird for me to ask…”
He shrugged, entering at her bidding hand. “It’s fine. I, I get it. I know how it is not to feel...safe...and to want to, uh, do something about it.”
“And you’re sure here is fine?”
He looked around her apartment. The front room was also the living room and sitting room, and was separated from the kitchen by half a chest-high wall. It contained a well-worn couch next to the door, a desk with her computer, and a TV on the wall beside the desk. In the corner, on the far side of the couch, sat the Moccan-sized...he wasn’t sure what to call it. House? Room? It wasn’t much different than a mobile home.
In any case, she’d moved the chair to the far side of the room, and there was more than enough space to get started. Once they moved on to more complicated movements, they’d probably need to find a space outside, but that wouldn’t be for some time. “This is fine for now. So...um...just come stand here. One of the most important pieces of self defense, and hand to hand fighting in general, is where and how you place your feet…”
...
“Sir, have you tried closing the program, resetting the device, and restarting the program? In that case, can you please do that? I will remain on the line until you’re finished…Uh huh...yes, I see...no more issues, then? Great! Yes. I was happy to be of service, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with today? All right. Have a great day, s...” The line closed with a click. “...Sir.” Niko shut his eyes and counted to five before opening them again. There weren’t any other calls waiting—not for him, anyway—so he turned back to sorting and marking some of the hundreds of thousands of emails the company got every day. He’d already sorted a few hundred today. The work was boring, time-consuming, and never-ending. But at least he got to work from home. In fact, if he strained, he could hear the music Kelsen was listening to while he slogged through his own data entry work.
It would be nice if he could listen to music too, but the occasional call made that impossible. He had tried listening to music between calls once...but his supervisor had noticed, and he’d received an official reprimand. Another one of those and he’d probably be fired. So no music. The time he allotted to work would be over soon, though, and then he could take a break before catching up on his studies. Maybe Fyche would be up to chat? If not, he could probably count on Kelsen for some gaming.
His musing was cut off by a direct call. Not from a customer—this was his boss. “Hello, sir.”
His boss didn’t sound pleased. Then again, he never did. “Niko, are you, in fact, paying attention to your work?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Not listening to music or watching videos again, are you?”
“Of course not, sir.”
“Then why in God’s name did you sort email 8632l-152J under Greetings, rather than Welcomes?”
“...My mistake, sir. I’ll make sure to fix it.”
“I’d rather you not make the mistake in the first place.”
“I will endeavor not to in the future, sir, though I would like to point out that the line between Greetings and Welcomes is rather thin and difficult to see at times.”
“I don’t want to hear any of your smart mouth today, Niko.”
“Nothing of the sort intended, sir. Just trying to point out a potential problem so it can be solved before it causes additional errors in the future.”
“Niko, Niko, Niko...you know, the way you keep acting, the way you make so many mistakes on the job...I just don’t see how we’re going to have the time to let you go for so long.”
Niko grumbled to himself for the rest of his shift, mostly about how unfair his boss was to him and how much he wanted to quit. He shot Fyche a message about chatting for a bit, only to remember halfway through that thanks to time differences and day lengths, it would be hours before Fyche was off work. Still, he wouldn’t have to stay up that late to talk to him.
Kelsen was busy hanging out with Ralia, so Niko pulled up some coursework on his computer and went over it. Again. For the third time. It was dull, but he still didn’t quite feel like he understood it completely, and he knew this section was going to be prominent on the upcoming exam. It didn’t help that he checked the time every five minutes, waiting for Fyche to respond. It was nearly midnight when Fyche texted him back that he was tired from work and didn’t feel up to chatting.
Well, that was just great. Shitty day at work, couldn’t concentrate on school, and Fyche didn’t feel like talking to him. Just. Great.
...
“Heyyy, Rails.”
“Hi, Kel! How’s my sweet snugglewolf?”
“Ralia!” As always, Kelsen flushed when Ralia called him pet names. “Niko’s home! He might hear you...”
“Oh, please. Niko has heard me call you far more embarrassing names.”
“That I have, my fair cuddlepup,” Niko called from his room.
“Oh, shut up!” Blushing harder, Kelsen got up and shut the door, then changed his audio to headset only. But before he could sit down, Niko knocked and then opened the door a crack. “Come on, you already got me once, you don’t have to come rub my nose in it...”
“Much as I’d love to, I’m just here to tell you I’m leaving in, like, three minutes. See you when I get back.”
“Ah, okay. Good luck!”
“I’m gonna fuckin’ need it. Later.”
Kelsen sat back down at his desk and put his headset back on. “You two are the worst.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“On the contrary: we make an excellent team.”
“For the sport of Embarrassing Kelsen?”
“Precisely.”
“Terrible. Terrible sport.”
“Great sport, but too easy sometimes.”
“It is. Why don’t you challenge yourself and pick on someone else?”
“Because we know you actually love it, and because I love that little whine in your voice whenever we do it.”
“...Nnn...”
“Yeah, that one!”
“You suck.” Kelsen heard the front door close. “Well, at least he’s gone now. Now I just have you to put up with.”
“Where’s he go—oh. His parents?”
“Yup.”
“Oh, no.”
Niko’s relationship with his parents had always been dicey. As hardcore religious fundamentalists and political traditionalists, they were very outspoken against the ‘evils’ of atheism, homosexuality, species intermingling, and scale interaction—basically everything the mouse stood for. They somehow had managed to keep their relationship going all these years, but every visit, every phone call, pretty much any time Niko had to even think about his parents wore at him. He’d gotten into a fight with them once, trying to stand up for himself and others like him, but from what Kelsen understood, it hadn’t gone well. Niko still didn’t like talking about it.
“Yeahhh...but he insists. Plus, I think he’s trying to figure out if his dad really did try to sic his boss on him. Best we can do is be here for him when it’s over.”
“I just hate that things have to be like that for him. I can’t imagine life without my parents as they are. Sabotaging your own kid...” Ralia’s parents, on the other hand, were ‘cool’, according to Niko. They supported Ralia no matter what, and were enthusiastic about everything she did, from her work to her hobbies, and everyone she associated with. They could at times be a little overbearing, of course, but they were willing to listen and take a few steps back when that was the case. All in all, Kelsen considered them to be the perfect parents.
Contrast, then, his own mother and father. They were supportive as well, in their own way, but rather than being encouraging, they managed to veer between demanding too much from him and actively preventing him from leaving his own personal safe space in order to grow. Back during primary school, they’d sometimes berate him for not getting a perfect grade or making a team, only to forbid him to spend time with other children, saying that socializing was expecting too much of him. He also knew from experience that if he talked to them about work at all, they’d call his boss and get in an argument. He suspected he’d only managed to stay friends with Niko for so long thanks to the mouse’s sheer stubbornness.
As for Fyche’s parents...Kelsen didn’t know much at all, other than that his father was gone—dead?—and his mother out of his life.
Kelsen realized he’d been drifting. “Anyway. Ugh, I should probably actually get some work done while we talk.” He pulled up the software he used for his job and started typing. “How are you doing today?”
“I’m good! And unlike some people, I’ve actually been working this whole time. I have solved three customers’ problems since we started chatting.”
“Were any of them more complicated than reboots?”
“Well...no.”
“Ha!”
“It’s still something! Oh, now you’ve jinxed it. Hold on, I have to answer a call.”
“Mmkay.” He clacked away at his keyboard while Ralia spoke to a client with her mic off. They had begun doing this in the last few months—chatting while they worked, since most of their work could be done without them having to pay full attention. Kelsen complained every time Ralia or Niko teased him about the frequency of their communication—or when they teased him about anything, really—but he had come to cherish these voice calls. Between Ralia, Niko, him keeping his job, and a slight increase in his understanding and improvement in his grades at school, it finally felt like his life was going in a direction other than down. It was a warm, comfortable feeling, and his greatest ambition was to keep it.
“Okay, back! How’s your day been?”
“Well, my two best friends have been torturing me...”
“Eleven!”
“Ah, shit.”
“Every time, you think I’ll forget, but I never do. And I’ll remind you again: for every time you complain about us being ‘mean’, I’m going to smother you with cuddles until you can’t walk the next time you’re on Latia.”
“I guess there’s only one solution.”
“Stop whining about it?”
“No. Never come to Latia again.”
“Like you could stay away! Oh, hold on. Another call.”
He’d never admit it, but she was right. Everything else on Latia could fall by the wayside, but he yearned to be with Ralia again. All the voice calls, the video calls, the VR hangouts—they were great, but they paled in comparison to the real thing. And Ralia had been the second person to ever pull him out of his shell, the first being, of course, Niko. And considering the differences in their relationship and the fact that he had two people he trusted intimately now...things were just better, and even better in person.
“All right, back! What were we talking about?”
“Nothing much.”
“Really? Because I faintly remember something about you lying...”
“Uh, what all’s going to be in the next video, again?”
“You are trying to change the subject. And I will allow you to because I love you. Also twelve.”
“That doesn’t count!”
“I think that’s up to me. I am the one with all the power in this relationship.”
He sat silently as Ralia seemed to realize what she’d said. “Oh. Oh, Kel, honey, I didn’t mean it like that.”
He grit his teeth and counted to five. He knew she hadn’t meant it like that, but it still stung. “I know.”
“I just meant...”
“That you’re more likely to display affection and stuff. I know. I know it wasn’t a jab at me or my capabilities or my size.”
“Yes! That’s all it was. I was just kidding around. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.”
“I know.” There was a palpable silence between them. “And I’m not mad or offended or anything, but sometimes it hurts to hear anyway, you know?”
“I’m really sorry, Kel.”
“It’s okay. I’ll get over it.”
“Can I help?”
“Sure. Tell me why you like me again.”
“Oh, is that all? Well, obviously, I like having a partner I can pick up and cuddle with...”
“Uh huh.”
“But! But what I really like about you is how you look at things and people from every angle, and try to think of every possible outcome. I think it makes you wise, and I think it makes you empathetic and compassionate.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. Feeling better?”
“Mostly. I was actually thinking earlier, about how much better everything feels lately. Just life overall. And like...is it weird that I don’t want anything more? I just want things to stay how they are. Uh, relatively speaking. Like, stay as positive as they are, for me.”
“So you’re overall content?”
“Yeah, I think so. I just want things to stay good. And things to be good for my friends too, I guess.”
“Well, I’m pretty happy, too!”
“That doesn’t count. You’re always happy.”
“Am not!”
“You know what I mean. It just comes more naturally to you and Niko than it does to me. Or Fyche, I guess. Actually, right now, maybe not even Niko.”
“Hm? You mean because of his parents?”
“Well, yeah, that. But he’s also having nightmares again.”
“About that night?”
“And the situation in general, I think. I can tell it’s weighing on him. The nightmares, his parents, his job...and something else, too, though I’m not sure what it is.”
“Oh. I think I know.”
“Oh, yeah, huh? Yeah, definitely could be that.”
“I know you saw the same thing I saw the other day. Those two keep flirting, sometimes outrageously, and yet nothing ever seems to come of it. I mean, Fyche even used that nickname Niko was calling him for his screenname! No way he’d ever choose to be a big goofball otherwise, he’s way too serious. I bet that’s this other thing...or is at least contributing to it.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I wish we could help.”
“I mean, we can keep facilitating them having time together—both with us and without us—but we can’t force it.”
“I know.”
…
Ralia yawned, glancing at the clock as she idly twisted her chair from side to side. “All right. It’s getting late, I really do need to go. Good night, my darling nuzzlemuffin.”
“Ralia!” Kelsen muttered, exasperated but also flustered. “You’re impossible. Good night. Love you.”
“Love you more!”
“I’m not doing this.” The call ended as Kelsen left. Chuckling to herself, Ralia pulled her headset off and ran a paw across her ears, giving her fur a good scratch. Even her headset, comfortable as it was, caused a fair amount of discomfort after being worn for hours on end.
Stretching, she stood up and shut her computer down. Can’t wait to crawl into bed, she thought, but before she could take another step, there was a timid tap at her door.
Breathing in sharply, she immediately grabbed for her phone, preemptively entering the number for the police, as she fumbled under her desk for the bat she’d taken to keeping there. As she stood up straight, phone prepped in one paw and a raised bat in the other, her phone buzzed.
Cautiously, glancing back at the door, she checked it. It was a text from Fyche. Really sorry. I’m on my way to your place. I hope it’s not a bad time. Letting out a tense breath, she relaxed, setting the bat back under the desk. It’s just Fyche.
She’d been jumpy ever since the last time she got an unexpected knock on her door and foolishly opened it without confirming the visitor, and wasn’t about to make that mistake again. Her hand on the lock, she made doubly sure. “Fyche?”
“Y-yeah. Sorry.”
The voice was definitely his. She opened the door to find him standing there, paws jammed in his pockets, tail thrashing anxiously behind him as he stared a hole in the floor. “Fyche? Is something the matter?”
“No, it’s...well...sort of, I just...uh...sorry to impose, but...can…?”
“Oh, of course,” she said, stepping back so he could enter. With a hesitant glance around the room, he sat on the far end of the couch. He took his paws out of his pockets and started wringing them together. Wanting to sit next to him but knowing it would make him uncomfortable, she sat on the other end. “Fyche, tell me, what’s going on?”
He glanced over, meeting her eyes for just a second before looking away again. “It’s just...d-do you...ever get...no, of course you don’t…” Resisting the urge to ask more questions, she simply waited, and eventually he resumed his train of thought. “Nightmares. I just...sometimes, I get these really intense...and it’s not like I can’t handle it, but I can never sleep afterward...I dunno, m-my head is all jumbled up. Sorry. I don’t, uh, I don’t know what I was thinking, just barging in like this.”
She smiled patiently. “It’s fine, Fyche. I don’t mind at all. Do you...do you think you might be able to get back to sleep if you stay here tonight?”
His voice was very small. “I-I think I’d like to try that. Thank you.”