kazutoshi was conceived/cursed/concocted a werewolf. yumi says it must’ve be from his paternal (father’s) side. he digresses by the sharpness of her teeth and how he’s a mirror of his mother, but whateverrrrrrrrr.
to further synopsize, he presented at a stock standard age (14) in bad circumstances. sobbing, er, hiding in the auto repair class’ lavatory - three days after isao outted him. kazutoshi’s wails turned growls. almost gave that poor teacher a heart attack; inexplicable wolf trapped in a bathroom stall. teach reacted reasonably, grabbed for a makeshift weapon, which only incited the panic.
if not for his spotted, baby pelt inheriting traces of neon blue, kazutoshi wouldn’t Be Here Right Now. for years, kazutoshi regretted that morning’s fresh application of hair dye.
…dark musing aside. kazutoshi’s split grateful to be alive. horrors are aplenty, but he wakes every morning to good recipes, sweet kisses, and total reassurance that he is safe. regardless of his humanity & intelligence.
the waxing crescent coaxes him out of an elongated shift. multiple days spent werebodied result in awkward transformations back. weres’ bodies desire a fixed form, much to their genetics forlorn; that ancient tragedy’s more applicable to kazutoshi than just species dysphoria. top surgery was last year’s Big Operation.
“welcome back.”
“kk’nnn.” hand touch diagnoses a swollen throat. welts inside his cheeks. huh.
“ah, r-right… last night, um. you got. excited.” guilty not!smile. a knockoff mona lisa. “i had to muzzle you.”
fffffffff embarrassing. kazutoshi tries a ‘sorry’ and croaks instead. killing himself grotesquely. “kkkkkknhhh.” hasssseeeegawa. kennnnn… tries the foreign vowel & consonants on his tongue. keens, “kkkkkkkkennnn.”
shushing the animal noises. “it’s alright, kazutoshi. you don’t have to talk.”
“wa’n thhu. wa’hn tuh.” want to. speech like he’s in braces. “keeeeeeeen.” ‘it hurts’ shines in his not-quite-human pupils. exploded with emotion.
“oh, kazutoshi…” ken retrieves the Icy Hot cream. as he’s coating his fingers in the congealed menthol, he says, “you were really gone. d-don’t be disappointed, but i think you might not fully return for awhile.”
meaning?
“…close, if not the night before the next full moon.”
FANTASTIC.
“awoooooooow!”
“kazutoshi!” hurried application to his throat. apologies for not delivering the bad news more gently - which, if kazutoshi could fucking talk, he’d reject as ken was Perfectly Fucking Fine - and full rubs of his throat. ah. the massage punctuates where the muzzle was. it’s a phantom with his layered fur now porous skin, but it must’ve rubbed friction in. a werecat would purr. self-soothing or pleasure?!
after he’s abuzz in counterirritant, ken wet wipes their hands. glad for opposable thumbs. if only his stupid legs got the damn memo; hindpaws scrape the wooden floorboards and the duo wince. his dewclaws cause (insignificant) property damage. (said dewclaws are rear - nobody’s yet cued into the fact this means he’s a mutt. give it time.)
“okay, all done. let’s get you into a shirt, yeah?” nod. kazutoshi crawls to their low wardrobe. complete trust in ken as he shuffles forward on mixed hands/feet. could be read sexual, or innocent - kazutoshi is keenly aware of the vulnerable position. it’s deliberate. (regardless) ken wouldn’t advance upon him, nor take advantage, he’d advise kazutoshi to mmmmmmaybe stay out of the bathroom for a few minutes.
