Borne of Caution (Pokemon Isekai)

A short to get the brain juices moving. Check out https://www.patreon.com/fuggmann on the place of patrons if you want to see other stuff.

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"It's rubbish! Utter rubbish! Umbridge isn't going to teach us a thing! I'd put a galleon that we don't cast a spell the whole year!" Ron's voice carries down the entire stone hallway of Hogwarts and draws Hermione from her troubled thoughts. "Even bloody Lockheart was better, and all that ponce wanted to do was strut up and down the classroom and talk about how he 'vanquished' some bloody dog spirit or whatever…"

"Kitsune, Ron," Hermione corrects her red-headed friend without even thinking. "Lockheart said his newest book was about how he banished a kitsune, a fox spirit, that was inhabiting the body of a young woman." Hermione shakes her head a little, feeling silly that she fell for Lockheart's charming hero act. One only needs to read a bit about the Japanese spirits in question to realize something: even if Lockheart was as good as he pretended, going toe-to-toe with a kitsune is a tall order for any wizard. Even the weakest of the fox spirits are rated XXXXX class by the Ministry of Magic.

Ron merely shrugs. "Same difference."

'It's really not,' Hermione frowns.

Between Ron and Hermione, Harry finally speaks. "I'm just hoping this class isn't like DADA…" he grumbles, obviously still upset with the unfair detention he's going to be forced to serve with Umbridge tonight. "Who ever heard of a Care of Magical Creatures class in an actual classroom? They're always outside."

As Ron groans at the realization, Hermione thinks back to the new CoMC professor introduced the night prior.

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"Now, we have two changes in staffing this year," Headmaster Dumbledore smiles like a model grandfather behind his podium at the head of the great hall. "As Professor Hagrid is taking a temporary leave of absence, please welcome this year's Care of Magical Creatures professor, Mister Lee Henson!"

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all focus on the man who replaced one of their favorite teachers.

At the staff table, seated between Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall, Professor Henson stands.

Professor Henson is… Shockingly plain, if the trio of hair-raising, claw-like scars on the left of his face are discounted. The man is tall and lean, with a slight suntan uncommon to the British Isles. Under his black robe are a collared shirt, a tie, and slacks that would draw no eyes in either the wizarding or muggle worlds. The man stands and smiles amid polite applause from the students, waving to everyone for a moment before sitting back down.

Hermione's eyes narrow.

When the professor waved, she spied a number of curious spheres hooked to the right of his belt, each one the size of a golf ball and numbering roughly six. They were nothing like any other wizarding tool she's seen before. When she laid eyes on the first one… the young witch swore she felt eyes peering back at her…

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As the trio reach the end of the hallway and push the door to the classroom open, Hermione can't help but flush in embarrassment as many eyes turn to look at them.

They're the last ones to arrive.

"Ah, there you are! You three made it with a minute to spare." At the front of the room, Professor Henson is seated on the front of his desk with a smile on his face, seemingly not upset by the close call. His robe is gone from his person, and his sleeves are rolled back, showing the class a number of scars on his arms, though nowhere near as severe as the ones upon his face. "Go ahead and sit down. Class starts in just a minute," he says, his voice unmistakably American.

As the trio sit down at one of the open, three-person desks, Hermione takes a moment to examine the classroom.

Unlike other classrooms, which are decorated to the tastes and needs of their teacher, the CoMC classroom is rather spartan. There are desks, the Professor's desk, a chalkboard, a few bookshelves against the wall, a curious glass case bearing eight differently shaped pins, and that's it. It's as though the professor brought nothing of his own into the castle.

"Blimey, what's that thing?" Ron suddenly asks under his breath, pointing a subtle finger at the professor.

Following Ron's finger, Hermione… isn't quite sure what she's looking at, and she's not alone if the whispers in the classroom are any indicator.

Stepping out from behind the professor's desk is a gold-furred fox of mammoth proportions. The vulpine must dwarf the average Great Dane and then some, at its large enough to rest its head in the professor's lap even with the professor sitting on his desk. As it walks, its dainty paws are completely silent, and the multiple tails sprouting from its spine all form a majestic fan shape behind it. As the fox sits beside the professor, piercing red eyes that shine like gemstones scan the class.

Hermione shivers as the eyes pass over her, hitting her with the same sensation she felt at the opening feast last night.

"Hey there, love. You finished your nap just in time to help out with class," Professor Henson smiles and strokes the beast behind its ear, and Hermione swears she sees the fox smile a little. The professor then looks up at the clock on the wall and hums to himself. "Okay, top of the hour, so let's get started. We'll begin with roll call, do intros, the syllabus, and whatnot," the professor says, taking a piece of parchment from his desk. Clearing his throat, the professor reads off each name.

As roll call takes place, Hermione can't help but let her eyes be drawn to the fox at the professor's side again. Even without the fox looking at her, the young witch shifts in unease, for something prods her atrophied instincts, demanding she remains alert. She almost forgets to say "Here!" when her name is called.

Once the roll call ends, the professor sets the list of names aside and stands up. "Okay, everyone. It's the first day, so I won't load you down with work. Once we get intros and the syllabus out of the way, we'll use the rest of the period for questions, either about me, the lessons, or whatever you wish."

Both the Gryffindor and Slytherin students give a short cheer upon learning they have a little less homework.

The professor clears his throat, and the sound calms the cheers. "Before we begin, does anyone have any pressing questions that can't wait?"

"Professor," Harry speaks up, and Hermione cringes a little at the unspoken accusation in Harry's voice and narrowed eyes. "Why did you replace Hagrid? And where is Hagrid?"

The golden fox's head snaps up, its red eyes staring hateful holes into Harry.

To his credit, Harry doesn't flinch.

Professor Henson places a gentle hand on his fox's head, and it turns its head away with a growl. "It sounds like you were fond of Professor Hagrid. Mister Potter was it?" The professor shakes his head ruefully. "Well, I didn't want to replace Professor Hagrid. It sounds like he was a beloved fixture in the school. Heck, if we're being honest, I didn't want to be a teacher at all." The man's words cause an outbreak of whispers. "Headmaster Dumbledore… got me out of a spot of legal trouble with the ministry recently. Nothing criminal, just a case of traveling paperwork that wasn't up to snuff. In return, he asked me to teach while Professor Hagrid is away, saying you all would benefit from my insight. As for what Professor Hagrid is doing?" He shrugs. "It's not my business, so I didn't ask."

Harry frowns, obviously unsatisfied, but he doesn't speak out anymore.

Near the back of the room, Hermione can hear Malfoy scoff and mutter something to the Slytherin beside him.

The gold fox's ears perk.

"Mister Malfoy!" The professor speaks up suddenly, causing more than one student to jump. "This 'yank' has ears, but they're not good enough to hear all the way back there. Can you speak up, please?" He asks, leveling the blonde Slytherin with an unamused face.

Flushed red in embarrassment, Malfoy stands up and clears his throat. "I was merely wondering about your qualifications, professor," Malfoy's usual tone is replaced with the faux-politeness he uses for professors other than Snape. "Our last professor had none, so as you can understand, I have concerns."

Hermione has to clamp her hand over Harry's arm to keep her friend from standing up and loudly defending Hagrid.

Professor Henson and his fox meet eyes for a second, then the professor hums in thought again. "Let's turn this into a lesson, then. I do possess a magizoologist certification, and based on my partner here, I'll let you deduce what class of creatures I'm rated to handle. Nine, if you would?"

The fox, apparently named 'Nine', steps forward and stands before the class in a side profile, giving everyone an ample view of her. She lets out a human-like sigh and gives the professor a half-hearted glare.

"Now," Professor Henson claps his hand together once and ignores the red eyes digging into him. "I'm sure everyone can see her rough resemblance to a mundane fox. The first one to deduce her species and ministry classification based on current observations gets twenty-five points for their house. Let's give it…" He glances up at the clock. "Fifteen minutes. If you know the answer, raise your hand. Go!"

Everyone quickly rushes to open their bags and pull out their books, and the class is filled with the sound of turning pages and hushed discussion. Beside Hermione, Harry opens his own book while Ron just drops his head to the desk, already giving up. "Any ideas, Hermione?" Harry asks, looking over his glasses at her.

"A few…" Hermione's eyes comb over the fox, taking in every detail from the gold fur, to the red eyes, to the tufts of fur on her chest and head. Then Hermione moves to the tails. "Hold on…" Her eyes narrow in thought, and she silently counts the number of tails she sees. "...Seven, eight… nine…" The muggleborn witch feels her veins ice over. 'There is no way the professor brought one here. It's impossible to tame one.' She counts the tails again, and once more, there are nine of them.

There are a few groans from the Slytherin students as Hermione's shaking hand rises, but Professor Henson ignores them and points Hermione's way. "Yes, Miss… Granger, right?"

"Y-Yes, professor…" Hermione gulps, acutely aware of the fox staring at her. She dares not meet the spirit's eyes. "Your friend… Is she a nine-tailed kitsune?"

A few whispers break out in response in the classroom.

"Kitsune? What's that?"

"Never seen one before. Foreign, innit?"

"I saw 'em mentioned in some Asian comic book once."

Both the professor and the Nine the kitsune seem surprised. "Well now…" He smiles at the kitsune, who is seemingly sulking as if she lost some unspoken bet. "Considering Nine's kind aren't native to Europe, I didn't expect anyone to get that. Bravo!" The professor lightly applauds. "If you want to elaborate on what a kitsune is for the class, Miss Granger, I could be convinced to part with more points."

Hermione licks her lips and thinks to herself, trying to find an answer that is not only correct, but stresses the unreal danger that everyone is currently in. The last thing they need is someone like Malfoy or his hanger-ons accidentally damning them all for an errant insult.

"The k-kitsune…" Hermione pauses and steadies herself. "The kitsune is a mythical creature from Japanese folklore that is often depicted as a fox with supernatural powers. Kitsune are associated with various attributes, such as wisdom, intelligence, trickery, curses, and various powerful magics."

The mention of curses makes everyone quiet down and pay attention.

Hermione continues, her voice picking up strength. "One of the most famous versions of the kitsune is the Kyuubi no Kitsune or the 'Nine-tailed fox'. In Japanese folklore, the nine-tailed fox is a powerful creature that can live for centuries. It is said that the more tails a kitsune has, the more powerful it is, with each tail representing an accumulated century of power."

The more Hermione goes on, the more the danger sinks in to her classmates. For a moment, Hermione thinks about telling everyone about the legendary kitsune Tamamo-no-mae, a kitsune seen as a monster and unstoppable engine of destruction after slaying thousands of soldiers and wizards in ancient Japan. She holds her tongue at the last second, fearing the fox in the classroom might take the comparison as a slight.

"A nine-tailed kitsune is said to possess intelligence and an understanding of magic superior to that of a human. They are natural shape-shifters, capable of transforming into a human form, other animals, or inanimate objects. They can utilize pyromancy, telekinesis, mind magics, illusions, wards, various dark magics, spiritual magics, space-time magics, unbreakable curses, and many others." Hermione takes a breath. "The oldest and most powerful kitsune are the Tenko, who are nine-tailed kitsune with white or golden fur. It's said these kitsune have divine powers, and they're thusly worshiped…" She hesitates, finally looking at the kitsune in the room, but not at her eyes, "as holy spirits and deities."

The classroom is utterly silent as Hermione takes her seat once more. From the corner of her eyes, she sees Harry look mystified, and Ron deathly pale.

The young witch looks forward again, at the living legend at the front of the room.

The kitsune seems to draw the eyes of everyone in, and Hermione can feel an ethereal weight upon her head and shoulders, pushing her down as if compelling her to bow. As the seconds pass, it grows heavier and heavier.

"Love, stop it! You're making the kids nervous."

The weight vanishes, and more than one student suddenly gasps when it does.

Nine the kitsune turns and stares up at the professor with a sour look on her muzzle.

The professor kneels down to her level and takes Nine's cheeks in his hands, smooshing her face as if she were a lapdog and not a thousand-year-old terror. A growl rolls out of the kitsune's throat, and Hermione mentally prepares herself to see what kind of horror will be inflicted on her teacher.

"So dramatic…" Professor Henson clicks his tongue. "Corvi is enough of a drama queen for all seven of us. You don't need to compete."

Nine's jaws dart out and nip the professor right on the tip of his nose.

"Ow!" He stands and rubs his nose, which is still on his face, miraculously. "Love hurts, it seems."

The kitsune snorts, seating herself and wrapping her tails around her legs. After a moment of fidgeting, she sighs and stands again. The fox rises to her hind legs, braces her forepaws on the professor's shoulders, and gives him a short, affectionate lick on his nose, right over where she bit him.

"The feared Lady Ninetales, kissing boo boos better. What would Battlenet say?" The professor chuckles as Nine sits once more. "Anyway…" Professor Henson rolls his eyes and turns his gaze to Hermione. "To finish up the question, what is Nine's ministry rating, Miss Granger?"

'I don't think I was ready for today…' Hermione sighs, feeling the mental exhaustion of Umbridge's non-class and whatever this is catching up to her. "Class 5, or XXXXX, sir." Then the professor's earlier words return to her and her eyes widen. "Wait, professor, you said earlier that you're certified to handle creatures in the same class as Miss Nine, correct? That would mean-"

The professor smiles and raises a hand, halting her. "Class, allow me to introduce myself properly and put any doubts to rest. My name is Lee Henson, and I'm the first person since Newton Scamander to be certified in the handling and care of Class XXXXX creatures."

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Below are the names of some patrons who got to view this short early and felt like signing it. A huge thanks to them and everyone else who supports this story and everything else I write.

puppy0cam (begrudgingly), Kdonmination (less begrudgingly), speedyzman13, DJ Firefox, Ray, Javidom, derpydude9001, ShaRose, Spice_King, TitaniumPhoenix, Grey, Tezral, Emeraldleafeon, Planetace, TheTankiestTrain, Cynicals, Hiniko, Green0Photon, Berusella, Hazel Kings, , Dicloniuslord, ClassicDom, rizen, Murtaugh, JustALurker, Moxie, HT1318, monoman335, demonmonkey89

 

Amid some rolling blackouts that are making my writing notes intermittently inaccessible, I made this on an old chromebook. Enjoy.

A short Borne of Caution and Okami (2006 Videogame) crossover.

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Amaterasu, Goddess of the Sun and Origin of all that is Good, slows her sprint into a jog. Around her, the blurry, undefined greenery morphs back into trees and bamboo before her eyes.

Bamboo is good. It means they're getting closer to Kusa Village, where the demon Crimson Helm is said to be holed up. As much as she would like to make the rest of the trip before sundown, her mortal body shakes with fatigue. Her jog slows into a calm walk along the beaten dirt road, her aching paws and injured leg thanking her.

Amaterasu huffs to herself, both to catch her breath and out of annoyance. Her favored form, that of a brilliant white wolf, is fleet of foot and mighty as they come, but she knows she should be stronger than this. The terrible fog that has been clouding her memories for the last several weeks fades with an agonizingly slow pace, but she knows that during her last adventure in beautiful Nippon, one that passed over one-hundred years ago, the trappings of mortality never seemed like issues.

Just a few days prior, she felled a pack of imps seeking to ambush a courier along the road. Although she slew the demons without a scratch, one tried to flee by unfurling a body-sized kite and riding the wind.

Amaterasu jumped high, and removed the imp's head from his shoulders before he could run away and cause misfortune elsewhere. When she came back down, it was upon uneven ground. Misjudging her fall, she landed with a painful jolt up one of her hind legs. Her hip and leg have been stiff and sore ever since.

Alas, trying to rid herself of the stiffness was a fruitless effort. Mighty and varied is her Celestial Brush, a divine power that lets her draw her will into creation as if the world was a canvas, and none of her techniques were so useful as Restoration… Which failed magnificently when she tried to heal her leg. The divine power fizzled out to her bewilderment. Then she realized why.

She doesn't know what exactly she is trying to fix. Fixing a broken object like a rotted wooden bridge or a snapped fishing line is one thing, but mending something as complex as a body is another, it seems…

Her stomach growls, and the white wolf growls back.

A flash of green appears in the corner of her eyes, and Amaterasu looks up.

Standing upon her head and between her ears is Issun, her partner in this sojourn to rid Nippon of evil.

The man is tiny, no more than a few centimeters tall, wearing equally tiny robes and a beetle-like hat. Belonging to a race of sprites called poncles, Issun glows with a bright green aura of magic. Despite being a crass womanizer and self-described freeloader, the tiny artist has been her guide, her voice to humans (owing to the poncle talent of animal speak), and most loyal friend since her awakening. For that, Amaterasu feels she cannot thank him enough. She swears she knew a poncle before Issun, but the name just won't come to her past the fog in her brain.

"Jeez, Ammy," the tiny man bounces on her head. "You sound like you could eat a horse. Maybe we should stop for the night and find some dinner."

Her stomach growls once more, so she can't help but nod in agreement.

In the waning sunlight, the wolf and poncle pad along the road. It's not uncommon to find rest stops on well-trod paths, either small inns, teahouses, or unmanned hovels used as a place to sleep, so with any luck, they'll stumble upon one soon.

"At least the demons around here are laying low. We haven't seen one all-day," Issun comments, filling the silence with his pleasant chatter. "No demons, no aggravated leg." After a beat, he asks: "How is your leg doing, furball? Still hurt?"

Amaterasu snuffles and throws her head.

"Running the whole way probably didn't help, ya know," the poncle chides in reply. "I do gotta wonder about the demons, though. Did someone get to them before us? We haven't passed any monks or exorcists on the way, did we?"

The Sun Goddess silently wonders about that herself. Bands of demons roam the land nowadays, making travel perilous for people, but the road from Taka Pass to Kusa Village has been oddly quiet.

They walk for another twenty minutes as Amaterasu's sun dips further and further behind the horizon, bathing the tall stalks of bamboo around them in pink and orange. Finally, they come across a rest stop along the road, one it looks like they'll be sharing with someone else, judging from the gentle light shining out of the windows.

A pleasant, savory smell wafts by her nose from the rest stop, and Amaterasu instinctually takes a deep sniff. Immediately, her tail begins to wag and her stomach grumbles. Hopefully, the temporary companions within are willing to share what they're cooking. The smell is delicious.

Stepping up to the small shack of a building, Amaterasu noses the sliding door open and pokes her head inside. With a blink, she tilts her head at what she sees.

Sitting cross-legged by the hearth and tending to both a boiling pot and a number of meat skewers, a clearly foreign man looks up and meets Amaterasu's surprised eyes with his own. His western features are marred by a ghastly trio of claw-like scars on his face, one nearly claiming his eye, and his hair is a lighter brown than most. Much like his visage, his clothes are foreign, and Amaterasu can't hope to name the articles he wears. Even sitting down, Amaterasu can tell the man must be quite tall.

Beside him sits someone even more surprising. At the man's side is a kitsune, one who regards Amaterasu warily.

The kitsune is roughly Amaterasu's size, and coated in fur that shines and glitters like pure gold. A twitch of her nose tells the Goddess that the kitsune is a female. Ruby-like eyes stare into Amaterasu's own amber orbs, but it's not the fox's eyes that Amaterasu lingers on. No, the wolf swiftly counts the fox's tails, which number nine.

Not just any kitsune, but a kyuubi. Amaterasu can't recall the last time she spoke to one. Lesser kitsune are a rare sight on their own.

…Perhaps this kyuubi is the reason the road to Kusa is free of demons?

"Hey, buddy!" Issun breaks the silence before it can grow awkward, bouncing up and down on Amaterasu's head. "Mind if we join you? We've been running all day and could use a rest."

The western man snaps out of his stupor and smiles politely, unphased at meeting a poncle. The scarred side of his face can't smile as well as the unblemished side does, and Amaterasu finds herself tempted to try her paw at healing the scars with her Brush. "Of course. Please, come in. Some company would be lovely," he says, his accent thick and quite humorous to listen to.

Stepping inside, Amaterasu noses the door shut behind her and seats herself a polite distance away from the man, relaxing her body and sore leg. Although she feels a bit bad for ignoring their new acquaintances, she watches the pot above the fire longingly, her stomach gnawing at itself.

"Hungry?" The man smiles again, pulling a packet of rice paper along with a mortar and pestle from the curious bag behind him. He opens the packet and dumps the contents, a collection of salt and spices, into the mortar to be ground up. "It'll be ready shortly, and we'll be glad to share some."

"That's mighty nice of you, pal!" Issun says. "Normally, I'd make fun of Ammy here for having a bottomless pit for a belly, but we ran all the way here from Taka Pass this morning, so lemme speak for her when I say the generosity will be appreciated."

Amaterasu wags her tail with a short bark of agreement.

"Issun is the name, and this here is Amaterasu!" Issun introduces both of them.

The man and the kitsune meet eyes for a second, a conversation seeming to play out between them in a heartbeat. The scarred westerner then turns back to them. "It's nice to meet you two. My name is Lee Henson… Or I suppose it's family name first here? Henson Lee, then," he says, giving the pot above the fire a stir.

"Ninetales is my name. I am Lee's partner and protector. A pleasure to meet you," The words falling from Ninetales' mouth are no human speech, but Amaterasu understands them regardless, as she's sure Issun does. The kitsune inclines her head and wraps her tails around her legs, seeming content to say nothing else.

Protector? So it was Ninetales who culled the demons on the road. Amaterasu smiles and barks in thanks. Selfish interests or not, the fox has no doubt saved more than one unfortunate traveler some trouble, and the Goddess can appreciate it.

"T'was no issue," Ninetales smiles in reply.

"Oh, tales, I get it!" Issun chuckles to himself, drawing a roll of the eyes from the fox. "How did a westerner and a kitsune meet, if you don't mind me asking?"

"You might say we were made for each other," Ninetales says mysteriously. "It was simply fate that we crossed paths on that sunny day years ago."

"She found me lost and alone in the woods, and decided the dumb man she found needed all the help he could get," Henson cuts in, sending the exasperated fox's mystique crashing to the ground with a smile. "I still need it, so here we are."

Issun's little green aura flares. "Huh. Small world. I did the same thing for Ammy. Poor thing would still be on the other side of Nippon, as helpless as a turtle on a fencepost if not for me."

Annoyed, Amaterasu throws her jaws and catches Issun in her mouth, letting him squirm for a moment. After a few seconds of suffering, she unceremoniously spits him out on the floor with a splat!

"Ick!" Issun gets back to his feet, his aura flaring into a furious red and burning the saliva away. "Again with the wolf slobber! You can't treat a man of my station like that!" He complains.

An elegant, cream-colored tail rises up to the kitsune's face to hide an amused smile before Ninetales sets the conversation back on the rails. "You came all the way from Taka Pass in a day, you said? We've been traveling along this road from the Pass for a few days now. You must have kept quite a pace."

Amaterasu lays down and relaxes, letting Issun speak in her stead. The conversation drifts from topic to topic lazily as the cool of the night sets in. The wolf Goddess listens to Issun boast about his painting skills, to Ninetales' wistful wishing to visit a number of locations in Nippon, but the wolf listens with the most interest to Henson, who speaks of his scholarly pursuits in things like biology, meta-biology, transformative energy theory, and sapient psychology and interrelations among other things that Nippon has no words for. Such dull subjects are boring, but it's hard not to listen when the large man's voice swells with his passion for understanding every facet of life itself. Many of the terms and words fly over her head, but it's clear as day that the man is an expert in his chosen schools.

"We do travel quite far for Lee's studies, sometimes." Ninetales nods along to one of Issun's questions. "Sometimes the locations are less than a day's travel, and other times they're far off the beaten path. Occasionally, they're… farther than we expect." She trails off, looking out the window and to the starry sky outside. "Returning home is often an experience in and of itself."

"We'll get back. We always do," Henson smiles and pulls Ninetales into a one-armed hug. The other arm is busy serving food onto a number of colorful plates made of an odd, flexible material that Henson produces from his bag.

When a plate is passed to her, Amaterasu takes a moment to let Issun gather an armful for himself before leaning down and taking a bite. The meal is simple fare, being rice, grilled eel, and assorted vegetables in a savory sauce with little in the way of presentation, but the taste! The meat is tender and flaky, the rice is soft and has absorbed the flavor of the eel and the sauce, and the vegetables round the flavor and add a pleasing texture to the mix. Eating is a mortal pleasure the Goddess is always glad to indulge in, and this meal is one for the books. As she wolfs down her food, she wonders if one of the esoteric sciences Henson studies somehow involves cooking.

Her plate empty and belly full, Amaterasu stretches out and sighs happily, relishing the simple joy of good food and company.

"Thanks for the food, Henson! It was great!" Issun once more speaks for Amaterasu and himself. "I could eat like that every night!"

"You flatter me, Issun," Henson seems pleased that his dinner went over well with everyone. "Once everyone's food settles, I was hoping to see about Amaterasu's leg."

Amaterasu's head rises off of her paws, taking in Henson with bewilderment.

"Her leg?" Issun parrots.

The westerner nods. "Yes. I noticed she wasn't putting quite as much weight on her right hindleg as the other. May I ask what happened? I'm guessing a bad trip or a long fall?"

"Uh, yeah, actually." Issun seems as surprised as Amaterasu feels. "You seem experienced on the matter."

Henson nods his head toward Ninetales. "I'm just a squishy, regular man, so Nine often has to fight for me if we get into trouble. As a consequence of my fields of study and her being my frontline defender, I've seen about every natural injury a creature in the Canidae family can experience, and a lot of unnatural ones, too. If I can help, then I'd like to."

Issun goes silent. "What do you think, furball?"

Amaterasu thinks to herself.

Henson certainly seems to know his stuff. He spoke earlier of his various sciences and experiences without hesitation or any signs of deceit. When she watches his eyes, though, she feels her own narrow.

Her Godly features are hidden from the eyes of normal humans. To most, she appears as a regular wolf, albeit with a pure white coat. None see the divine red ink in her fur, the swirling tufts on her legs, her ink-dipped tail, or any of her divine weapons, which she keeps in a telekinetic grip behind her when not in use.

Henson is looking directly at the Divine Reflector above her back, a mirror imbued with holy sunfire that has struck down many a demon as a bludgeon. The man isn't quite so regular, now is he?

Yet, that matters not when she looks deeper. The man fidgets under her gaze, but does not shrink away or hide. No, his intention to help simply for the sake of helping is as true as can be. If there is one thing that Amaterasu can trust, it's motives that mirror her own, as arrogant as it may sound.

With a pleased, affirmative bark, the Sun Goddess lets the flames around her divine reflector fizzle out before she sets the weapon gently against the wall. She trots up to Henson, who smiles back.

"Okay!" He begins. "Let's get this show on the road. Can you present your side with the injured leg to me? Issun? Can you sit somewhere else for a bit? I may need Amaterasu to take an unstable position and don't want you getting hurt in the process."

Issun bounces away, over to Ninetales, where he bounds up and perches upon the kitsune's head instead. The fox frowns, visibly displeased, but she doesn't knock the poncle away

"Let's get started," Henson murmurs, taking his hands and feeling up and down Amaterasu's leg.

Henson's experience immediately becomes apparent. The tips of his fingers ghost across her leg with featherlight touches, pausing over areas where the soreness is most prevalent without so much as a twitch from Amaterasu. The hands move up her thigh and to her lower back, where he gently runs a pair of fingers from the top of her pelvis to the base of her tail. If Henson weren't a professional healer and a human to boot, then this feels like it might be too lurid to allow.

"Hey, I can hear your teeth grinding," Amaterasu can hear Issun whisper to Ninetales. "What's got your tails in a bunch?"

"Nothing, bug," the fox hisses, just as quiet.

…Apparently, Ninetales does not appreciate this…

"And this was caused by a bad fall?" Henson questions, his face set into a mask of focus. "Did you land with your body parallel to the ground?"

Amaterasu shakes away the awkwardness with a whine and looks over to Issun.

"Kinda?" The poncle provides from his place atop Ninetales' head. "She was twisted a little bit, and that leg hit the ground before the other."

"Alrighty," Henson mutters. "Amaterasu? Do you have any kind of abilities that would provide passive accelerated recovery from physical injury? Like a healing factor or regeneration?"

The wolf nods. She's always healed quickly. That's why she's been so mystified and frustrated with this persistent ache.

"Okay, Then I have a good idea what's going on." Henson smiles. "I've seen this happen a few times with Ninetales and a few others. It looks like you have a factor fault."

"Factor fault?" Issun crosses his tiny arms. "You've been talking in nothing but jargon all night, Doc. Maybe explain this time?"

"Sorry," Henson blushes, looking away and faintly embarrassed. "A 'factor fault' is medical shorthand back where I'm from used to refer to a category of injuries caused by healing factors incorrectly repairing a prior injury. Things like a bone breaking, then healing back together crooked before it can be properly set, or torn muscles accidentally bunching up and healing together in a big mass."

Amaterasu feels her hackles rise. Ugh! That sounds ghastly! And she has that condition?! She looks over at the man with no small amount of horror, hoping that he's wrong.

"Thankfully, it looks like Amaterasu's case is nothing to be worried about," he smiles. "I didn't feel any misshapen bones or anything of the like, so this is probably just a case of compacted connective tissue in the upper thigh from axial overload." He presses the back of his hand to Amaterasu's thigh once more, before taking her ankle in his other hand and gently lifting her leg a few centimeters. "Her hip wasn't dislocated, but I imagine she probably has some trapped fluid from a bit of transverse overload if she landed at an angle. We can fix both in one go, thankfully."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Issun bounces impatiently. "Fix her up!"

"Aasir, I thought I would never need to do this one, but you ended up being right again…" Henson mumbles to himself before slapping a pleasant smile back on his face. "Okay, so what I'm going to do is this…"

Henson lifts her hindleg and scooches closer so he can place it over his shoulder, leaving her inner thigh against the back of his shoulder blade. "I'm going to 'hug' the meat of your thigh here, as my hands-" With his arms on either side of her leg, he presses his palms against her lower back, just above the base of her tail, "-push down right there on your hips. Using my body as a leverage point, I can both squeeze and pull your leg, freeing the compacted connective tissue and the fluid in your hip."

…Okay, now this has to look like a compromising position. The wolf does her best to hide how embarrassed she feels. Ignoring the daggers being stared into the back of her head is a bit harder. Harder still is ignoring how uncomfortably hot the room is getting.

"Ready?" Henson asks, looking totally oblivious to the fact that his face is so close to what lies under her tail. "Your leg is going to sting, and your hip is going to feel a pinch. Three, two, one…" He clenches his arms together, pushes down on her hips, and leans his body back. "Just grit your teeth and keep your balance!"

Amaterasu winces, feeling a sharp flare of pain followed by-

PO-PO-POP!

An absolutely heavenly surge of relief.

---

Amaterasu would look back and ruminate on that night a number of times throughout her and Issun's journey. The noise that came out of her mouth when Healer Henson popped her hip was… embarrassingly indecent. Borderline lewd, even.

That's probably why Ninetales spewed a furious stream of flames from her maw, scorching the ceiling black and scaring the life out of everyone. It was nothing Amaterasu's Celestial Brush couldn't fix, but it was not an occasion any of them would remember as one of their more dignified moments.

---

Below are the names of some patrons who got to view this chapter early and felt like signing it. A huge thanks to them and everyone else who supports this story and everything else I write.

Tyric Gaias, Aegi (Exquisite), Kdonmination, DJ Firefox, Omakehell, Green0Photon, Berusella, Pbc98, Moxie, puppy0cam (regrettably), JustALurker, Casual, Dead Bloodchief, speedyzman13, Drew6, Ash Kitsune, Emeraldleafeon, CMDR Dantae, KaurisAzurai, SleepyKamo, Thelon, TitaniumPhoenix, Fabhar, BrokenOlive, Hazel Kings, ShaRose, AMeek, GreenPhoenix, Spice_King, artisticVulpes, WiseKitsune , towerator, Dicloniuslord, OmegaEntertainment, Magical Fox Asu, Derpydude9001, RaptorusMaximus, xydra22, strongraider101, OpN, Planetace

 

Want to support me? See https://www.patreon.com/fuggmann or https://subscribestar.adult/fuggmann. I have goals on there that help my writing along and make it a richer experience for everyone. As thanks for donating, patrons get to see updates a few days early and suggest edits to the final draft before it goes live. If you want to keep up-to-date on releases, use discord code hive-of-degeneracy and opt in to the fic-updates role for a ping.

---

Lee gives the taller man a hard stare. "Maxie… You're under arrest for suspected terrorist activities. Come quietly."

Maxie sighs. "Pity."

In a flash of movement, a pokeball is launched from his hand. The ball snaps open midair, and the air becomes sweltering, just like-!

---

With a gasp, Lee draws in a breath, one filled with searing hot dust. His abused lungs protest, and he coughs. To his alarm, he tastes the metallic tang of blood on his tongue, and something is pushing down on his chest. He blinks his eyes, but stars dance in his vision. His limbs are heavy and clumsy, and he finds that he cannot find purchase on the ground to stand

Confused, he tries to recall what the fuck just happened, but the memory won't surface. 'Ninetales, are you o-!'

Ninetales isn't there.

That special place within his mind, where his first pokemon made her claim over part of him, is gone. Not empty, but completely gone, as if there was never anything there.

The pain in his chest, throat, and eyes is completely forgotten, sidelined in favor of something infinitely more crushing.

Loneliness.

'W-Where is she?' The loneliness nearly transforms into panic, and the zoologist is forced to bite his own lip harshly to bring him back to somewhere lucid. Again and again, he gropes for that telepathic anchor leading him to his fox, but there is simply nothing there. 'Ninetales?'

"N-Ninetales?" He blindly calls between ragged breaths. "Nine? Love? I-I." He spits a globule of blood and saliva trying to slink down his throat. "I need your help, Nine…"

There is no reply.

The terrible feeling of being alone strikes him like a hammer blow. What happened to her? Where is she? Is she okay? Against his will, Lee begins to shake. He blinks the stars away from his eyes and tries frantically to rise, pushing the weight off of his chest. As his vision clears, he unsteadily stands and looks at what he just pushed off of himself. On the floor are wires, ductwork, and a broken drop ceiling tile.

"W-Wha?" Lee swallows the bile that rises in his throat, and once again instinctually reaches out for Ninetales, only to feel nothing once more. His whole body aches and his scars tingle. Idly raising a hand to his face, Lee recoils and bites back a scream.

His scars hurt! It's as if they are fresh burns once more! What the hell is going on?!

Lee allows his eyes to trail away from the bits of twisted metal he pushed off of himself. Slowly, he takes in his surroundings and the pit in his stomach only drops further, for he recognizes where he is.

The breakroom within his zoo.

The ceiling is partially collapsed, many of the tables and chairs are overturned, and the floor is littered with glass, blood, and bodies. Broken, burned, and mutilated bodies he can put names to.

The bile in Lee's gullet rises again, and this time he can't stop himself from bending over and being sick, making a mess on the floor. The vomit only irritates the burns he feels in his throat, which makes his hacking and coughing all the worse.

I've lost it. This is my brain flooding with hormones for a nice vision before I'm burned to ash. There is no other explanation.

The words he thought to himself on his first day in Hoenn rush back to him, and his stomach turns once more. 'No… No!' His hands rise to his head, his clawed fingers grasping his hair and threatening to pull it out. 'It was real! All of it was real! I was there for months! I became a trainer and everything! I even…!

Faces flash before Lee's eyes no matter how hard he squeezes them shut.

Nigel.

Brendan.

Zinnia.

Grovyle.

Corvisquire.

Shinx.

Octillery.

And…!

The serene, smiling face of a golden fox consumes him. Again, his mind reaches out for hers, desperate for reassurance, or anything at all.

Nothing responds.

Lee slowly raises his head, and turns his gaze to the broken window.

High above the landscape, a mushroom cloud framed with a fell, orange light slowly dissipates into the atmosphere. Lee realizes the ringing in his ears is beginning to subside, and he can hear aftershocks still rumbling the earth.

Uncaring of his own sick or the glass or the blood on the ground, Lee falls to his knees. "No…" He whispers, feeling his heart stop within his chest.

I've lost it. This is my brain flooding with hormones for a nice vision before I'm burned to ash. There is no other explanation.

None of them were ever real.

Ninetales was never real.

Listlessly, his hand slowly dips into his pocket, his fingers closing around his cell phone. Pulling the device out, it miraculously still powers on, though the screen is cracked. With thumb movements so practiced that they've become muscle memory, he opens his games and navigates to Pokemon Emerald.

There, in spot number one of his team, is a humble Vulpix, marked with a heart.

Something… just gives out. Whether it's his body or his spirit, Lee does not know, and does not care. He falls backwards to his back, uncaring of the glass and debris digging into him. Be it from a broken heart, radiation sickness, or something else, his limbs begin to grow cold, and his heart begins to slow.

As his vision begins to grow white, he swears he can see Ninetales staring down at him, concern on her face. 'Beloved?' She asks, and Lee swears he hears her voice.

His chilled lips curl into a smile. 'Nine, even if you weren't real, I still love you.'

Before his vision is overtaken, the phantasmal Ninetales leans down…

…And bites him right on the nose.

"Ow! Fuck!" Lee shoots up, rubbing his smarting nose. "What was that for?!" He blinks, suddenly realizing that he's somewhere else.

Gone is the broken, ruined zoo and all of the horror within. He's in a cozy, darkened bedroom, under snug covers and on a plush bed. Right next to him and sharing the covers, Ninetales stares at him with open concern, concern that he can feel through his soul-deep bond with her.

He's not alone…

Lee blinks, touching his face and his body, only to find nothing out of place. He falls back onto his sweat-soaked pillow and sighs in relief.

'Are you okay, Lee?' Ninetales asks, shuffling a little closer and gently touching her nose to his cheek. 'You were fidgeting and mumbling in your sleep. I'm sorry for the bite, but I couldn't wake you.'

'Just fine, Love,' Lee rises up on his elbows and smiles before pulling a surprised Ninetales into a one-armed hug. 'Hell, better than fine since I've got you here.'

The vixen smiles gently and nuzzles him in return before pulling away. 'If you had an unpleasant dream, I would be happy to—'She pauses when something shuffles in the covers between them. 'Good grief…' Ninetales sighs. 'She had just gotten to sleep, too.'

'She?' Lee wonders, lost. 'Who is—'

The head of a small, cranky-looking Vulpix pokes out from under the blankets. The little fox whines and looks between them.

'Return to slumber, O daughter,' Ninetales soothes the little kit, speaking both through her mouth and her mind. Ninetales leans down, nuzzling the kit tenderly and quieting her whines. 'Your father did not mean to wake you.'

'…Father?' Lee blinks and looks down at the Vulpix kit.

The little orange kit stares back up at him, heedless of Ninetales trying to coax her back into a sleeping position. It's just then that Lee realizes that his and the kit's eyes share the exact same shade of blue.

Lee's shoulders slump. "Okay, now this went too far in the other direction."

The Vulpix kit smiles at him, opens her muzzle, and says: "April Fools! Remember to update the thread mark so this isn't listed as a chapter tomorrow!"

---

Below are the names of some patrons who fell for this and felt like owning up to it. A huge thanks to them and everyone else who supports this story and everything else I write.

Sean T, TheGreatPapyroo, Paul McGlynn, Spice_King, Drakage, Spasminos, Cat, Emeraldleafeon, Superbuchi, Tezral, Renko Usami, HolyChomper, Regal Eagle, Peter D., Arcaryx, OmegaEntertainment, demonmonkey89, jokenn21, Emilowish, Sketchbeard, DNGDutchie, V, Dropkick_Actual, KessOrangesoda, MrPerson0, Berusella, Moonlit Chaser, Moxie, Kammight, Ranger, Purple Floof, Teatime42, AMeek, SilverRaptor, Thelon, TheTankiestTrain, Drew6, WiseKitsune, Omakehell, Himmel, Hazel Kings, Javidom, Nithalys, TitaniumPhoenix, Diana, SleepyKamo, GreenPhoenix Strongraider101, monoman335, speedyzman13, CMDR Dantae, Dicloniuslord, Vinohr, KingDeDeDe11, DJ Firefox, Rooker, Aegi ?!, Planicus-Planetivum-Planetius-Planinting the IVV, Green0Photon, Derpydude9001,

 

Not a chapter, but a quick notice. More than a few people were disgruntled with how long the last update took, and for good reason. I said it would take a few days at most when Act 2: Ch 16 dropped, and I intended it to be that way, but life got in the way. I won't get too deep into the details, but April was non-stop bad luck. From a broken tooth, to tax woes, to plain writer's block, it seems like it never ended. All of that caused a pretty terrible delay, and I wasn't the best at communicating it. I absolutely, positively hate making non-chapters like this, because I don't want people to see the notification, get their hopes up, then be let down when there is nothing new for them. To help combat both the problem of non-chapters and my admittedly bad communication, I wanted to give you all a few ways to keep an eye on everything.

First and most accessible is https://twitter.com/Bee_Fuggmann
I hold some distaste for twitter since it's de_dust2 for internet slapfights, but I know a lot of people have accounts just for lurking and whatnot. In light of that, I fired up an old account. It will mostly be official updates and the occasional miscellaneous post if it's gone unused for a while.

Next would be the community discord: Join the Hive of Degeneracy Discord Server!
There is a channel there just for writing updates. If you use discord at all, feel free to join in, as there is a talented community here, a Minecraft server, shitposters aplenty, and other time wasters. Or you can mute everything but the update channel if you just want to lurk. Your pick.

Finally, and probably most unreliably, is my Patreon: Fuggmann | Creating Transformative fiction and other things | Patreon
Patreon defaults to making every post patron-only, and I sometimes (often) forget to make general update posts visible to everyone. I'll do my best to remember, though.

Thankee much everyone for being patient.
Fuggmann.

Here is a tiny bit of Act 2: Ch 18 as thanks for taking the time to read this.

---

Act 2: Chapter 18

With the supernatural cool of chilled steel and the leashed, frantic energy of danger seeping into his mind, Corviknight analyzes his foe as he screams down through the air. Thoughts of a tactical sort supersede all else, and objectives take form.

Lee and Ninetales must be defended at all costs and evacuated as soon as possible

Brendan and Zinnia must be defended and evacuated.

Barriers and obstructions preventing evacuation must be removed.

Bystander casualties must be avoided where possible.

All foes must be disabled where possible.

From most important to least important, it all comes to him with lightning speed and assured confidence. A small part of him, a bit left over from his prior evolution, seethes at the notion of leaving such impudent opponents intact, but it’s silenced swiftly. The most important aspects must take precedence, and that means none of his can die.

Nevermore.

A mere second before impact, the mockery of a Camerupt seems to realize something is amiss and raises its head. Its eyes, small and bloodshot, don’t seem to register the approaching danger.

A second later, Corviknight drives his beak into its neck with hellish speed and ferocity.

 

You could have read this early! See below.

I'm reader-funded, and need your help to keep writing indefinitely. If you like what you're reading and want to help out, see https://www.patreon.com/fuggmann at the place of patrons. Patrons get to see updates early, suggest edits to the final draft before it goes live, and participate in polls to choose what gets updated next during my moments of indecisiveness.

If you want to keep up-to-date on releases, see discord code https://discord.gg/hive-of-degeneracy and opt in to the fic-updates role for a ping.

As always, thank you for reading.

---

(A Borne of Caution x Naruto "What If" Oneshot)

---

"Again, I apologize about the injuries to your ninja, Hokage-sama. My team can get a little jumpy sometimes, especially when things get dicey like that." The scarred man standing on the opposite side of the mahogany desk smiles apologetically. "I probably should have remembered Konoha's storied past with foxes, though in my defense, I did get a handful of throwing stars whipped at my face…"

To say that Sarutobi Hiruzen, 3rd Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, is having a stressful day is a bit of an understatement.

Earlier in the morning, he had a ninja from the gate burst into his office in a great panic, yelling: "The Kyuubi is loose!"

The old man's stomach dropped like a stone.

Without another thought, Hiruzen sent a squad of ANBU Black Ops to find Naruto, and another to follow the gate guard back to assess the situation as he prepared for a village-wide emergency. Once preparations were made, the Hokage looked from the window of the Hokage Tower only to see no giant fox ravaging the village. Befuddled, Hiruzen took his trusty crystal ball from its cabinet and scryed the Kyuubi's container, Naruto.

The boy was perfectly fine. He and his genin team were in the middle of a D-rank mission, reluctantly moving lumber for a construction site.

Hiruzen then focused on his ANBU, following them with his crystal ball.

The ANBU confronted a foreign-looking man holding a passport at the gate, who was looking at them with confusion. Someone else may have mistaken the healed wounds upon the stranger's face for claw marks, but Hiruzen recognized them as burns. He inflicted such wounds on other ninjas during previous wars with depressing regularity.

The second visitor made his blood run cold.

Next to the scarred stranger was a miniature Kyuubi no Kitsune. Its fur gold, and its form delicate, but there was no mistaking a fox bearing nine tails.

One ANBU, who participated in the defense of the village against the Kyuubi over a decade ago, made an overzealous decision to attack in a fit of old trauma. In a flash, he loosed a fistful of shuriken towards the intruders.

The fox was fast as lightning, and from its mouth came a searing beam of white fire to intercept the throwing stars. The beam did not melt the shuriken, but vaporized them.

On the belt of the human stranger, a pair of odd red-and-white spheres enlarged before bursting open. In a flash, there were two new threats. One a great green-scaled reptilian with leaves sprouting from his body, and the other a titanic raven bearing obsidian armor. Once they entered the field, the fight had been decided.

The reptilian was blindingly fast, moving from one place to another as if teleporting. Before two of the ANBU could react, scaly hands reached out and grasped each by their masks before smashing their heads together, concussing both and knocking them unconscious.

The raven cackled and threw a wing wide, kicking up a veritable typhoon that ripped another ANBU off his perch high in a tree. As the ninja twisted midair to get his bearings and land safely, the raven charged him with speed unfitting for a beast of such size, intending to use his whole body as a bludgeon. With a hollow clang and the cracking of bones, the ANBU was down.

The final ANBU clapped his hands together and formed hand seals for a jutsu, only for an invisible force to seize his wrists and ankles, dragging him to the ground and forcing him to kneel before the hateful face of the fox. Try as the ANBU might, even the supernatural strength of a shinobi could not match whatever devilry the fox was working.

In the span of seven seconds, a squad of Konoha's finest were incapacitated.

All three beasts were poised to finish their victims off, and Hiruzen tensed, ready to rush to the aid of his men... but then with a single word from the foreign man, the beasts calmed, and gently gathered the injured ninja so the stranger could treat their wounds.

Needless to say, the second squad of ANBU was told in no uncertain terms to use diplomacy. Against all odds… It worked like a charm. The stranger submitted to his arrest and complied with the orders of the ANBU without so much as a peep.

… Perhaps arrest is a strong word, considering it was a formality at best. The other beasts vanished back into their orbs, but the fox refused to leave the side of the stranger. They certainly received more than one pensive stare as they were escorted through the village and to the Hokage Tower.

Leading up to now…

Hiruzen steeples his fingers and clears his throat. His eyes are on the face of 'Henson Lee', but most of his attention is on the golden fox in his peripherals. "Worry not, Henson-kun," he begins. "Misunderstandings can happen. Your compliance and the first aid rendered to my ninja are most appreciated. Most would not so readily treat their foes with such kindness."

Henson waves Hiruzen off. "Think nothing of it."

With a nod, Hiruzen continues on. "If you would humor me, I would like to know what brings you to our fine village, and who your companions are. You are a unique visitor, to say the least."

"Well," Henson reaches up and strokes his stubble-covered chin. "I'm… I guess you could say I'm a scholar, and I travel quite a bit for my studies. I started off with just zoology, but recently I've been broadening my horizons and studying life in a more general sense. I was interested in getting first-hand accounts on the utilities of chakra and how its users approach their day-to-day lives. After thinking about it, I decided Konoha was the best village to travel to."

Curious.

"Your paperwork stated that you are not a shinobi, Henson-kun, so I assume your companions are for your protection?" The old Hokage asks, finally giving the miniature Kyuubi a look.

Ruby eyes filled with fire stare back.

Hiruzen is no proper sensor, but he doesn't need to be to feel the hot, prickling chakra practically rolling off the fox in waves, saturating the room and making it feel several degrees warmer than it truly is. The chakra lacks the nauseating, miasmic hatred of the Kyuubi, but it's just as overwhelming.

'It's like the Kyuubi was condensed down into a regular fox… And it's here within my village.' The thought is chilling.

Henson smiles and looks to his side, down at the fox. He reaches a hand down and strokes the beast, who smiles and leans into his side, making a warm purring sound in its throat.

The Hokage can see several of the ANBU hidden in the room watching the scene in disbelief.

"That they are," Henson smiles, his tone fond. He schools his face and turns back to Hiruzen, an apologetic smile on his face. "I'm no good in a fight, so my friends have to do so in my place."

"I see…" Hiruzen sorely wishes that he was retired as he ponders his next question. Turning his eyes to spheres on Henson's belt, he frowns. "Are they all of comparable strength?"

Henson nods, confirming the Hokage's worst fears. "Ninetales here is my strongest, but the others are always on her heels."

Nine tales? Did he really make the name of his pet biju a play on words? This is swiftly becoming insane.

"Interesting, interesting..." Hiruzen sighs and tries to stem his mounting dread. There's not one, but six creatures that might be comparable to the Tailed Beasts, all serving at the whim of a random scholar.

Many questions come to the aged ninja's mind. Where did they come from? What are they, truly? Summons, perhaps? But most of all, why would they serve a man who is thousands of times their martial inferior?

"Thank you for indulging me so far, Henson-kun, I promise I am nearly finished with my questions," Hiruzen nods. "Your companions, how do you control them, if you don't mind me asking?"

Ninetales' eyes narrow, and Hiruzen tenses, ready to defend himself at a moment's notice.

"Control?" Henson seems mystified, his brows furrowing. "They're just as intelligent as you and me, so there's not really any 'control' involved. A little love and compassion go a long way in building permanent friendships."

A little love and compassion go a long way in building permanent friendships.

The Hokage was ready to hear anything but that. Mind control jutsu, some sort of slave seal, or even something as mundane as bribery or contracts, but never love and compassion. Hiruzen stares intently at the foreigner, scanning his face, his body, and his stance, only to find no trace of deceit. He replays the words within his head, only to hear no warble of dishonesty.

The man speaks nothing but the truth.

Henson fidgets under the stare, and without a word, Ninetales moves to stand in front of him protectively, guarding the man behind her with a fan of golden tails. Her narrow eyes burn with a fearsome, willful fire.

For a scant second, Hiruzen sees a phantom face beside the fox, one bearing the same firm visage and burning eyes.

Hiruzen sees Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage, founder of the village, and the man who brought an end to the warring clans era with The Will of Fire, his philosophy of… love and compassion…

Both Hashirama and Ninetales share the exact same expression.

Hiruzen's eyes widen. Oh, it's so obvious now!

Within Ninetales' eyes is that same Will of Fire.

All at once, the mysterious being before the Hokage is no longer quite as unnerving, and he smiles, his fears draining from his body.

"Thank you for indulging this old man, Henson-kun. One moment, if you please." Hiruzen allows himself to relax. Leaning back slightly in his chair, he opens a drawer and withdraws his wooden pipe. Taking a minute to stuff it with fresh tobacco, he hums and feigns looking for a lighter before looking down at Ninetales. "Might I trouble you for a fire jutsu, my dear? I seem to have misplaced my lighter."

The kitsune raises an eyebrow and gives Hiruzen an unsure stare. Without her moving at all, the tobacco in the Hokage's pipe begins to smolder, seemingly of its own accord.

"Remarkable…" The elderly ninja breathes, looking at the embers in his pipe. No seals, no words, nothing. Just pure chakra manipulation. 'What other wonders can you manage, O Kitsune?'

Hiruzen takes a calming drag from the pipe, then exhales a small cloud of smoke, smiling once more as he does so. "Well, my boy," he addresses Henson, "we've been rather rude hosts so far, so please allow me to be the first to welcome you to Konoha. If it is chakra you wish to study, then perhaps we can accommodate you."

"Oh?" Henson leans forward in interest. "I'd certainly be grateful, but there's no need to go out of your way for me. I understand that I can commission the ninja mission office after doing a bit of paperwork to confirm I'm not a criminal or saboteur, right?"

Hiruzen nods. "Indeed you can, but you see, our Academy recently graduated a number of genin teams, and these children are beginning their advanced training alongside their respective jonin teachers. Some of these children are quite brilliant, and I believe that interacting with them will provide you with a wide and rich data set to work from. If you wish, I can have inquiries sent to the jonin-sensei of a few teams to see if they would mind an academic observer."

Henson's smile lights up the room. "Sounds like an excellent start to me."

If friendship is what Henson and his beasts desire, then friendship they shall have. Konoha shall not turn away such powerful allies.

---

Note: Please don't go nuts and start a power-level war. I'm just assuming Champion-level pokemon are on-par with Kage-level ninja

---

Below are the names of some patrons who got to view this short early and felt like signing it. A huge thanks to them and everyone else who supports this story and everything else I write.

Planetace, Umbrabree, Spice_King, OpN, OmegaEntertainment, RGBDRAGON, The Count of Real Numbers, speedyzman13, demonmonkey89, ShaRose, Hazel Kings, TheTankiestTrain, AMeek, xxcoder, King Eevee, BloodDraconius, Dicloniuslord, Fabhar, TitaniumPhoenix, Ash the Kitsune, artisticVulpes Sulphurcat, WiseKitsune, Derpydude9001, Tezral, RikkyRolly, StavTri, Auraknight17, Green0Photon, KaurisAzurai, Moxie, John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, PixelGMS, Ray, JustALurker, Gavinfoxx, DarkReader-14, VietDom, Tzeneth, Phoenix Bugg, Faolen, KingDeDeDe11, Dragonin, Javidom, Nithalys

 

Note: This is a brief callback to my days writing 2nd person greentexts on 4chan inspired by some chatter in the discord server. We'll say this takes place in an unspecified location within Borne of Caution.

---

You could have read this early!

I'm reader-funded, and need your help to keep writing indefinitely. If you like what you're reading and want to help out, see https://www.patreon.com/fuggmann at the place of patrons. Patrons get to see updates early, suggest edits to the final draft before it goes live, and participate in polls to choose what gets updated next during my moments of indecisiveness.

If you want to keep up-to-date on releases, see https://discord.gg/hive-of-degeneracy and opt in to the fic-updates role for a ping.

As always, thank you for reading.

---

Something suddenly bumps your leg and pulls your attention away from the somewhat boring movie playing on the TV. Leaning forward from your seat on the couch, you look down to see what touched you.

Staring back up at you are the expectant red eyes of Donnie Darko, your Umbreon. At his side is his mate, Carmen Sandiego, your Espeon. Donnie got his name from his bad sleepwalking habit while Carmen was named for her ability to vanish into thin air if she doesn't care to be found.

You are Anon, a small-time pokemon breeder.

By small-time, you mean small-time. Donnie and Carmen are your only breeding pair. Still, though, you make a good living. Donnie and Carmen aren't particularly exceptional gene-wise, and both are full mates, so neither Donnie nor Carmen will agree to breeding with anyone else, but you only really need two or three Eevee from each litter deciding they want to be adopted to be set for a year. Eevee are expensive little buggers, so you can charge a premium.

This year, however, is an off year, so Carmen can rest and recover from her last pregnancy. The only problem with that? Dark-types like Donnie are much more in-tune with their desires and primal nature than most other types.

It's a polite way to say that Donnie is a horn-dog. He'd hump a Charizard if he thought Carmen wouldn't break his neck over it.

Donnie headbutts your leg again, narrowing his eyes.

You already know what he wants. He wants you to quit paying attention to the TV and play with him.

Taking the TV remote in your hand, you turn the TV off, toss the remote down, and stand.

Your Umbreon's tail slowly begins to wag.

"You may have got me last time," you begin, widening your stance and spreading your arms out with your fingers splayed, ready to grapple, "but not this time. I know your tricks."

Donnie snarls in reply and lowers himself to pounce. Despite his bared teeth, his tail wags faster, buffeting Carmen's long cheek tufts with air.

"You wish," you grin back. "Your win streak is over."

Carmen rolls her eyes and gracefully steps past you, hopping up onto the couch. She then lays down to suck up the residual body heat from where you were sitting.

The relationship between a breeder and their pokemon is an unusual one. Carmen and Donnie might be the ones making babies, but their relationship with you is arguably as important as the one they have with each other. You play the role of third parent to their kits, provide for their needs both physical and emotional, arrange opportunities for their children, and generally ensure that they are happy. In return, they love and trust you.

Carmen is only willing to tolerate birth control medication in limited doses, as one of the side effects is acute migraines, which hit psychics like her twice as hard, and Donnie has a tendency to tear condoms with his enthusiasm. So if Donnie can't vent himself through Carmen, then he's got to find other outlets to burn his energy. Battling and general exercise both work great, but night is falling on the town and the local park will be deserted soon.

If you get to dictate when Donnie can and cannot breed, then you are obligated to deal with the consequences, such as playing with him without a fuss.

With another snarl, Donnie pounces, and you brace yourself. At the last second, you duck, bearhug him around the middle, and bend backward in a suplex.

Donnie lets out a yelp as his skull smashes into the carpeted floor, but you worry none. Umbreon is by far the most physically overbuilt eeveelution. Donnie once fell down a full flight of stairs and wasn't even hurt, just startled. Hell, you think he found it fun, because he sometimes just flops down the steps in the morning.

The Umbreon in your grip thrashes, and you let go before he can overpower you. Scrambling back to your feet, you're just in time for Donnie to tackle one of your legs. He wraps his forelegs around your shin and bites your calf through your jeans just hard enough to hurt, but not enough to break skin.

"Ow! Fucker!" You curse and try to pry him off, your hands pulling at his forelegs.

The little bastard smirks through his bite and thrashes, unbalancing you. Before you can recover, he abandons the leg he's attacking and shoulder checks the other one, sending you to the floor and knocking the wind out of you. On your back, you blink away stars and look up at the spinning ceiling fan.

…Oh shit, you're on your back.

Donnie is on you in an instant, and on pure reflex, your arms come up to guard your throat. Just as expected, teeth wrap around your left wrist and yank as hard as they can without taking your whole hand off.

Growling up a storm, Donnie strains and pulls, moving the first obstacle away from his victory. If he can get his teeth around your neck, it's his win.

"Donnie, you're supposed to start small and work your way up, not go all out from the beginning," you grunt, trying to think of a way out of this. "Where is your sense of sportsmanship?"

His red eyes flash, and he actually laughs through your wrist.

"Fine then…" You reply through gritted teeth. "Be an asshole. I don't care," you say, looking at how he's positioned.

The Umbreon is standing over you and steadily pulling one of your arms away, while his eyes remain locked on your other arm. If said arm so much as twitches, then he's going to dive past it and immediately go for the kill.

If you're going to do something, you need to do it fast.

Donnie is so much stronger than you that it's insane. Umbreon is not only the toughest eeveelution, they're physically the strongest. Pound for pound, he has you beat several times over. The only reason this isn't a foregone conclusion is simply that your hands are better at grappling, your longer limbs offering you more leverage, and the fact that he's not terribly fast. You're also heavier than Donnie, so…

Wait. Maybe you can use that.

On the couch, Carmen seems to be (quite literally) reading your mind and raises an eyebrow, as if to say 'is that wise?'

'Probably not,' you think to yourself. 'But I'm not letting this little shit take round one.'

Your right arm shoots away from your throat and grabs the black foreleg by your right ear. At the same time, your right leg kicks out to the side, knocking Donnie's hind leg away.

The instant he lets go to bite your throat, your now-free left hand takes his other foreleg, and with all your might, you roll your entire body.

Donnie yelps once more, dragged along for the ride since he only has one hind leg to stabilize himself. In a flash, the tables are turned, and your whole body is pressing down on Donnie.

He thrashes and kicks, one of his hind paws impacting your stomach like a hammer blow, and despite your explosive exhale, you keep yourself pressed down on Donnie, gripping his forelegs with everything you have. Trying your best to not be kicked in the groin, you tangle your legs with Donnie's and halt his kicking.

He thrashes his whole body, nearly throwing you off, and only sheer determination keeps you in place. Letting one of his forelegs go, you grip him right around his short muzzle and push his face into the floor.

You did it! You got him!

"Pinned! Pinned! I gotcha!" You exclaim victoriously. "Your win streak is over, you little fuck! Listen to the crowd go wild for the underdog!" You say, looking over to Carmen.

A thin smile crosses her muzzle, and she lets out a single, vulpine croon.

Donnie stares up at you in shock as you let him go.

Standing up, you walk over to the couch and sit next to Carmen, breathing deeply to try and get oxygen back into your abused lungs. First you got the wind knocked out of you, then you took a kick to the stomach, and Donnie doesn't even have the courtesy to look sorry!

Carmen drapes herself across your lap and nuzzles your stomach, looking up at you and dramatically fluttering her eyes.

With a wheezy laugh, you stroke the Espeon across the back and look at Donnie, who is getting back to his paws. "First I take your throne, and then I take your woman. How's that for ya?"

Donnie's eyes narrow into red slits. He walks over to you, his posture low and threatening, then he bites your pant leg and pulls. "Round two! Now!" his growl seems to say.

Nudging Carmen off, you stand and oblige. "Eager for another ass whooping?"

You didn't win another round the entire night, and that's okay.

---

Below are the names of some patrons who got to view this short early and felt like signing it. A huge thanks to them and everyone else who supports this story and everything else I write.

Spice_King, Emeraldleafeon, UmbraBree, Green0Photon, ncskeeter56, Vinohr, Kammight, Murtaugh, Arcaryx, Moxie, Ash the Kitsune, The Tankiest Train, Phoenix Bugg, Purple Floof, Derpydude9001, GNPhoenix, Noble Defect, Dusks_Lantern, Hazel Kings, Fabhar, Ameek, BrokenOlive, speedyzman13, WiseKitsune, JustALurker, HT1318, Rémi C., Javidom, Monsoon, Berusella, Strongraider101, Dicloniuslord, ShaRose, demonmonkey89, BeauZoe, Bruv, Planetace, Moonlit Chaser, Emilowish, Nithalys, CMDR Dantae

 

Palworld has been a trip of a game. I needed to uninstall it so I don't get sucked in and not update for a month. Here is a little something my brain parasite ordered me to make.

---

Night has fallen after an unusually cool and stormy Hoenn day. Lee, Zinnia, and Brendan saw the weather moving in behind them and made haste to the next town to not be forced to camp in the rain. The relentless pace tired out Brendan, who went to bed as soon as they secured their hotel rooms.

As he usually does upon returning to civilization after a week in the wilds, Lee is allowing himself to stay awake a bit later than usual to watch the news on TV. Joining him in the darkened room is Ninetales. Together, the pair lie on their bed and laze about in the television’s glow.

“-Caught red-handed attempting to move several protected pokemon out of the Greengrass sanctuary for purposes unknown. The trespassers claimed to be merely playing an off-color prank, but the Rangers who apprehended them insisted that the suspects were poachers. Both suspects are in custody, and a court date has yet to be determined,” the anchorwoman on the TV screen says with a severe expression. “More on that story at 11.”

The TV then cuts to a commercial, and Lee frowns mightily, prompting an inquisitive glance from Ninetales. ‘What has you so dour, beloved?’ she asks.

Lee nods his head towards the TV. “Poachers. To me, people like that simply don’t have any redeeming qualities. I hate to sound spiteful, but I hope they get prison time for this. Who goes into a sanctuary for a prank? If they actually did, then they’re criminally stupid and should be locked up anyway.”

A vulpine laugh bubbles from Ninetales’ muzzle. ‘Indeed, indeed. They should count themselves lucky that they did not receive ‘bush justice’ like the unfortunates your mentor Aasir felled.’

That comment makes Lee’s frown ease. Oh, he understands perfectly well why African reserve rangers immediately jump to lethal force, but he’s not about to casually wish death upon anyone. As he thinks, he lets his eyes roam Ninetales, stopping at her fluffy tails.

Before his sudden violent transmigration, Lee heard about some sort of pokemon rip-off video game in development, and it had quite a few people talking about it due to the ludicrous trailers of pokemon-esque creatures wielding guns. ‘I’m sure a poacher would pause if an elephant started waving around a rifle,’ Lee smiles thinly, eyeballing one of Nine’s wiggling tail tips.

Unbidden, the man imagines what his golden fox would look like if she had handguns gripped in each of her tails. Would she have nine different pistols, or would they all be uniform and boring, like the Glock that gathered dust in Lee’s nightstand drawer back on earth?

The thought gives way to an image of Ninetales bounding across the savanna, sending bullets in every direction from her tail-mounted guns. Ahead of her and screaming for help, a team of thuggish men cry and flail as their jeep is riddled with holes.

Lee chuckles under his breath, drawing yet more curiosity from Ninetales. Rather than ask, she simply peers deeper into his mind, taking in the ridiculous thoughts within.

‘Really, Lee?’ the vixen asks with a roll of her eyes. ‘Only pistols? You do me a disservice. I have the strength in each tail to carry much heavier burdens.’

In Lee’s mind, the handguns in Ninetales’ grip are suddenly replaced with full-blown RPG launchers held in a snakelike grip each. The look on the fox’s face is downright evil.

It’s been a long time since Lee has laughed that hard.

 

Take a look here!

I'm reader-funded, and need your help to keep writing indefinitely. If you like what you're reading and want to help out, see https://www.patreon.com/fuggmann at the place of patrons. Patrons get to see updates early, suggest edits to the final draft before it goes live, and participate in polls to choose what gets updated next during my moments of indecisiveness.

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As always, thank you for reading.

---

Note: A Bleach crossover oneshot that has been taking form on my phone for the last 4 or so months, growing one or two lines at a time.

---

Kurosaki Ichigo is, in a word, frustrated. He's been frustrated all afternoon.

For the past few weeks, the lull following Rukia's rescue from the Seireitei has been maddening. After those many days of constant combat and near-death situations, Ichigo can't help but feel high-strung with the sudden return to normalcy. Hell, it took him almost 3 days to stop immediately jumping to his feet after awakening.

The looming threat of that bastard Aizen has done nothing to ease the teenager's nerves, either.

Just as Ichigo was beginning to allow himself to relax, the ever-present hollow population within Karakura town suddenly and mysteriously plummeted into nonexistence. For the past several days, no hollows have emerged, and the sudden disruption to the norm was suspicious.

At first, Ichigo suspected that his spiritually aware friends were encountering the monsters first, but a conversation at school dispelled that notion. Neither Orihime nor Chad had encountered anything.

Uryu didn't say a word throughout that talk, and Ichigo struggled to not let his pity show on his face, knowing it would do nothing but anger Uryu, who burned his Quincy powers away with that glove to avoid death during the Seireitei invasion.

Hat-n-Clogs, aka Kisuke Urahara, didn't know a damn thing either, but after being alerted to how unusually quiet Karakura has been, the old shopkeeper said he would keep an ear to the ground.

The several days of restless quiet finally pushed Ichigo to his limit. After dinner with his family, Ichigo used the Substitute Soul Reaper badge gifted to him by Captain Ukitake to separate his spirit from his body, so that he could patrol the city as a Soul Reaper.

"Damn it," Ichigo curses from his place atop a tall building in the center of town. "What the hell is going on? Is this Aizen's doing?"

The orange-haired teen cranes his head around, his spiritual form unbothered by the cool evening air. As far as the eye can see, the town is quiet.

Scowling, the young soul reaper closes his eyes and concentrates. Even if his spirit-sensing abilities aren't the best, he should still feel something out of place.

…Nothing. Nada. Not even a hint of hollow reishi. Even the usual places in Karakura where spirits congregate are peaceful. He checked out the burned-out hospital on the edge of town, the section of train track where a young boy was tragically struck a decade ago, and the old shrine in the park.

Maybe he's just being paranoid?

With a sigh, Ichigo reaches back and wraps a hand around the hilt of Zangetsu. As it usually is, the zanpaktou is warm to the touch, and thrums comfortingly in his palm. Knowing Zangetsu has his back takes the edge off his nerves.

Opening his eyes, Ichigo turns and leaps off of the building, letting himself free fall for a handful of seconds. Then with a flicker, he Flash Steps once, twice, three times, moving at speeds far beyond any man. In just a few seconds, he's standing outside of Urahara's small shop all the way at the edge of town.

Stepping forward, Ichigo goes to open the sliding door and step inside, but pauses when he hears voices within.

"-like the rest of Sylvy's abilities, logic should be the last thing considered. Believe me, fairies operate on their own rules. Wish should do what you want, but it's not a guarantee."

"…I see. Thank you for the warning, but if you are willing, I would still like to try. There are… Some conditions I'd rather avoid with the other avenue of reclaiming my powers."

Ichigo's eyes widen. The second voice is Uryu! The soul reaper withholds the urge to throw the door open, instead leaning closer to listen a bit longer. Who is the first voice? And what's this about fixing Uryu's powers with a wish?"

"If that's what you want, Ishida-san, then we'll see about getting a spiritually sterile place set up for the procedure. The fewer variables that can foul up Sylvy's Wish, the better," the first voice says. Their Japanese is heavily accented, but fluent. "Urahara-san –"

"Kisuke is fine, Henson-san," Hat-n-Clogs says, sounding as if he's smiling. "Anyone I can talk theory with is a friend in my book. So tell me again, you said this "Wish" move is Normal-type? It seems to be a misnomer, isn't it?"

"Well, with Sylvy's Pixilate…"

Ichigo jumps back with a startled yelp when the door is suddenly thrown open, revealing Urahara's tall, mustachioed assistant, Tessai.

"Can I assist you, Kurosaki-san?" Tessai rumbles, his expression flat and unreadable.

"Oh, I didn't even feel Kurosaki-kun outside!" Urahara exclaims from within. "Tessai, see him in, please!"

The large man stands aside, gesturing for Ichigo to come in with a polite bow.

"Thanks, Tessai-san," Ichigo murmurs awkwardly, hurrying past. The shop is small, or "cozy" if he were to use Urahara's words, so it takes no time to get to the small meeting room of the Urahara shop. Without bothering to knock, he slides the door open and steps in.

Sitting around the low table are both Urahara, who looks at Ichigo with a small, resting smile, and Uryu, who looks considerably more disgruntled. On the table itself is Yoruichi in her cat form, watching Ichigo with a raised eyebrow. The fourth and fifth members, however, are new to the teen.

Across from Urahara is a brown-haired man. His face is distinctly Western in appearance, explaining his accent, and his blue eyes regard Ichigo with curiosity. The only thing outstanding about the man is the trio of burn scars on the left side of his face, which look painful.

'He must be 'Henson',' Ichigo assumes, moving his eyes to the next unfamiliar person.

Next to Henson and across from Uryu is a large, golden-furred fox. Nine tails tipped in orange trail out from behind the creature, slowly waving about as if possessing minds of their own. On the top of the fox's head is a hair-like tuft of fur, and its shiny red eyes lock into Ichigo, watching carefully.

'Is that a real kitsune? Or is it a soul reaper who can transform like Yoruichi?' He wonders.

"Really, Ichi-kun, eavesdropping?" Yoruichi asks before anyone else can speak up, her smirk all mischief. "That's a bad gateway to peeping. I know a growing boy like you might be tempted to snoop around where you don't belong as a spirit, but what would Orihime-chan or Rukia say if they found out?"

Ichigo's face instantly lights up red at the accusation. "Shut the hell up! Don't accuse me of being a pervert when you're the one who flashes people for fun!"

The cat clicks her tongue. "Flashing people? I'm a cat, Ichi-kun. There's nothing to see," she coyly teases.

"So what brings you to my fine establishment tonight, Kurosaki-kun?" Urahara asks, saving the blushing boy from the mischievous cat. "Did you finally encounter a hollow?"

"No," Ichigo shakes his head, the red color draining from his face. "I was just patrolling the town to clear my head. I decided to stop by to see if you had any leads on why there's been no hollow activity."

Henson interjects with a lame chuckle. "Ah, that might be our fault," he says, gesturing to himself and the fox. "Ninetales and I were actually attacked by a hollow a few days ago."

Ichigo withholds an eye roll. Nine tales? That's some lame wordplay.

"The hollow wasn't very strong, so Nine warded it away without too much trouble," Henson continues. "She didn't kill it, but she did hit it with Imprison, which may as well be a death sentence. If it told any other hollows what happened to it, it might have spooked them into not showing up here."

"Imprison?" Uryu questions with a raised eyebrow. "Is that some sort of traditional spell? I recall no Quincy nor Soul Reaper technique with such a name."

The gold fox lets out a snort, and Henson shrugs. "Imprison is more of a curse than a spell. Once it's laid, the target can't use any techniques that the caster also knows. With enough power, Imprison can dig deeper and cause worse debilitations. The gap between Ninetales and the hollow was so large that Imprison completely paralyzed it. It couldn't move, it couldn't mould energy, it couldn't even speak. All it could do was open a portal to fall into."

"Really, now?" Yoruichi chimes in, leaning forward. "Hypothetically speaking, if a soul reaper was to know Imprison and use it on another soul reaper, what would happen?"

"That's hard to say," Henson frowns. "If the two soul reapers were equal in power, had the same Kido spells, and both had unlocked zanpaktou, then the target would theoretically be locked out of all of their Kido and their zanpaktou abilities," he says, each word carefully considered.

The hair on the back of Ichigo's neck stands up. On his back, he can feel a chill run through Zangetsu.

"Do you have other 'moves' like that?" Urahara asks suddenly. "You mentioned that you wanted to use my Senkaimon, and I would be happy to let you do whatever you want with it… Provided we can trade notes?"

Henson smiles back knowingly. "Remind me later, and I'll do my best to teach some useful tricks to anyone of your choosing. Something tells me you would appreciate Heal Block and Embargo."

Heal Block sounds straightforward, but what the hell is Embargo?

"That sounds wonderful," Urahara grins, his eyes flashing in the shadow of his hat. He glances toward Ichigo. "Ah, where are my manners? Henson-san, please meet Kurosaki Ichigo, my troublemaking protégé. He was the spearhead of our little invasion a few weeks back."

"Protégé my ass!" Ichigo exclaims with a scowl. "You haven't taught me squat!"

If Henson is annoyed by the antics, it doesn't show on his face. "A pleasure to meet you, Kurosaki-san. Henson Lee is the name," he says with a smile and nod. "If Ninetales doesn't give it away, I'm a scientist of a supernatural sort."

"Yeah, I was about to ask," Ichigo begins, looking between him and Urahara. "How do you know Hat-n-Clogs?"

"I don't mean to interrupt, but can we return to what we were speaking about before Kurosaki barged in?" Uryu cuts in, visibly annoyed. "Henson-san," he addresses the scarred man. "What sort of price are you asking for to give me back my powers? I have more funds than most, but I can't hand out a blank check."

A waved hand is Uryu's answer. "Don't worry about it, Ishida-san. Urahara-san –"

"Kisuke!"

"– Gave me the story in broad strokes, and you've got my admiration and sympathy for everything you've gone through. If I can help you, then I will, no need for repayment."

Uryu's face flashes with annoyance, but he bows his head. "Thank you."

The fox, Ninetales, noses Henson-san's shoulder, prompting the man to look at Ichigo once more. "Huh, when you're right, Nine, you're right," he says aloud. "Kurosaki-san, have you been getting enough rest? You're looking a little rough."

"Huh?" Ichigo blinks. He looks down at his soul reaper robes, which look the same as they always do. "Yeah?"

"You're certain?" Henson questions. The man stands up and steps closer. "When it comes to spiritually attuned life forms, I've noticed that the physical self has a way of mirroring the emotional self. Take a look here – " he points to the edge of Ichigo's sleeve, "– doesn't that seem a bit off?"

The teenager looks down at his sleeve and holds it up to the light, feeling his jaw drop a little bit.

Some of the threads on his sleeve are bunched up! He looks more and finds other imperfections, like frays and tiny holes. Normally whenever he leaves his body and takes on his soul reaper form, his clothes seem to magically repair themselves. He's never given his spirit clothes any more thought beyond that.

"Tilt your head back a little, please," Henson continues, squinting at Ichigo's face.

Ichigo complies before he could even think to ask why.

"Slight bags under the eyes, and skin is a little pale," Henson murmurs under his breath. He reaches out behind him, making a grasping motion.

Back by the table, Ninetales audibly sighs before her eyes begin to glow. As her eyes glow, a backpack situated against the wall unzips itself, and a notebook and pen float out, landing in Henson's hand.

The instant that the notebook is in the scarred man's grasp, he flips to a clean page, uncaps his pen, and begins to write. "Kurosaki-san, would you say that you eat healthily?"

"What?" Ichigo questions, confused.

"Do you enjoy exercise?"

"I guess?"

"Do you smoke or make use of recreational drugs?"

"What?! No!"

"Have recent events been weighing heavily on you?"

"Uh…"

"Would you say that you are a kinesthetic learner?"

"A kine-what?"

As the interrogation rolls on and the page Henson is scribbling into rapidly fills, Yoruichi leans towards Ninetales. "Does this sort of thing happen often?" The disguised soul reaper asks.

Ninetales tiredly nods.

"I see…" Henson nods slowly. "Well, firstly, let me apologize for worrying you with the lack of hollow attacks. I know that you've probably been waiting for the other shoe to drop, and that can be stressful. Secondly, I understand that you were a key player when you went and rescued your friend Rukia, right?"

"I suppose I was," Ichigo admits, looking away bashfully.

"Would you do it again?" Henson asks, drawing the boy's eyes back to him. "Would you do something else like that, knowing that you could get killed?"

Ichigo's face hardens. "In a heartbeat."

Henson looks down at the filled page of his notebook, seeming neither pleased nor displeased with the answer. "Well, Kurosaki-san. My friends and I are going to be here in Karakura for a little bit, so if you'd allow me, I'd like to help you train and even the odds for your next encounter. I'm not very strong, but making others strong is my specialty," he says, looking over his shoulder towards Ninetales.

The fox's eyes shine, and she smiles back.

"I'll make sure that the next time you meet one Sosuke Aizen," Henson turns back to Ichigo, a smile rising to his lips, "he'll be in for a very nasty surprise."

That's all that Ichigo needs to hear.

"I'm in," he says, resolute.

"As am I,"

All the eyes in the room are drawn to Uryu, who doesn't shrink into the attention. "Henson-san, I don't mean to impose, not after you said you would assist in fixing my powers, but if you are training Kurosaki, then I would like to join as soon as I am able."

To his credit, Henson recovers from his surprise quickly. "Well, the more the merrier. You and Kurosaki-san might make good whetstones for each other. Heck, if you have any other friends who would like a better fighting chance, bring them along." He looks down at his notebook.

Ichigo looks at the book as well, feeling his eyes widen. The writing is small, and the page is full!

"It's been a while since I've had a challenge like this," Henson murmurs, flipping to a new page and beginning to write like a human printer once more. "Where do soul reapers land on the P.G.D.F. compass? I'll probably have to get my hands on some spiritually-saturated foodstuffs and begin testing immediately. I can probably set Octi on securing some local funds…" He looks back up towards Ichigo. "Kurosaki-san, you should head home and rest. You're going to need it."

For some reason, Ichigo can't resist the urge to gulp. 'Why do I feel like I just made a mistake?'

---

Below are the names of some patrons who got to view this short early and felt like signing it. A huge thanks to them and everyone else who supports this story and everything else I write.

RGBDRAGON, speedyzman13, Nithalys, DarkReader-14, BrokenOlive, Vinohr, WiseKitsune, Phoenix Bugg Derpydude9001, Pixel, Moxie,Civer, Ninjadanimo, DangerDesperado, artisticVulpes, Planetace, AMeek, Liqura, Spice_King, demonmonkey89, ShaRose, Dicloniuslord, Sinnohan, Emeraldleafeon, GordianVapCat, Superbuchi, Gavinfoxx, xydra22, Fabhar, TheTankiestTrain, Antel, KaurisAzurai, Regal Eagle, PAX AMERICANA, OmegaEntertainment, Titch,