A paper boat is carried over babbling water, taking sinuous twists and turns as it trickles over pebbles, rocks as much an obstacle as the shallow bed. It's the last of its group, barely keeping up to the handful of folded ships ahead, the gaggle of children cheering steadily falling faint as it struggles to catch up.
The last pair of feet keeping the battered boat company finally decides to step away, but not before a whispered prayer is sent toward the water.
It's all it takes for a brook to be born.
The first sound Hitoshi ever hears is of slithering water parting blades of grass, followed by a victorious shout.
Hitoshi winces when the bush rustles loudly around him. Extracting his tail tangled in the tight knot of branches is taking him far too much time; the hare is long gone. The ugly itchiness behind his chest makes him stomp his paws, huffing and jumping in place, but it's no use; his tail is stuck.
The itchiness mounts until he can't contain it anymore; he tugs sharply on his tail and immediately regrets it when sharp pain drags through the thin tailfin membrane.
He paws and whines softly at his fragile torn tail, alternating between chewing through the branches around it and lapping the blood welling up from the lacerations. It hurts. Not as bad as his stomach does, but it hurts nonetheless.
Once his tail is free, he slumps to the floor, green wood stuck between his teeth and his tailfin laying over his own curled self to avoid getting dirt all over his wounds. Bunched up like this, his hunger makes itself smaller.
He doesn't understand why animals are making themselves more scarce when, not long ago, they were plentiful. He chews on wilted grass. He's hungry and cold and the stupid leaves keep crunching under his paws and alerting his preys. He can't even eat cicadas!
He needs to catch one thing. Anything.
Something rustles in the distance.
He perks up, strands of grass hanging from his mouth. Could it be the hare again? Hitoshi opens his mouth, breathing in. Under the iron smell of his blood and the rotting leaves is a hint of fur and flesh.
Hitoshi scrambles to his paws, tripping over himself in his hurry to run after his prey.
He has to pause a few times to sniff them out, but they never travel too far despite his difficulties navigating over the old tree roots breaking up the earth.
There! It's right there!
Stalking closer, he's almost there, just has to pounce—
Its ears snap toward him, nostrils flared wide, the only warning before it bolts away. Hitoshi jumps after it, scared to even blink in case he loses it from his sight. The hare is faster than he is, but he's unwilling to give up; it has to be tired by now, he just has to ignore the pull of his own muscles and the sting of his tail.
His claws dig in the dirt to give him more traction, each step propelling him closer to his meal. He's fueled by the thought of warm blood and the rich fatty taste hidden inside thicker bones that are so satisfying to break.
Something uncomfortable niggles under his skin, and he almost faceplants when he sneezes right in the middle of a half-skip-half-hop.
Hitoshi ignores it easily when the hare dips behind a tree trunk, turning the corner faster than Hitoshi, whose claw snags on a root. He goes tumbling, his snout slamming into dirt and his own tail hitting the back of his head. In an desperate attempt to catch up to the hare, he accidentally gets twisted around his own body, the wiggling and scrambling only tangling him up further.
By the time he gets on his paws, the hare is long gone.
He lets himself slump on the dirt, whiskers dragging under him. He shouldn't have tried to chase down the hare; he's so tired now, doesn't think he could run after another prey. His eyes are too heavy for him to keep them open. His scaled cheek rests on the cool dirt and he rubs it against the grains, trying to wipe away the stench of his upset with a half-hearted effort. It's not as comforting as his brook. He used to amuse himself by jumping around the shallow water, the current barely strong enough to push the leaves that fell into it. Now, there's only wet mud. It's as hungry as he is.
He huffs into the ground, sending dirt flying. Hidden rocks scratch the persistent itch under his scale that's been bothering him since he chased the hare. He pauses. There's a hint of something that makes his heart go wild and his body want to hide into the deepest burrow.
With new purpose, he buries his nose in the dirt to catch more of that frightening smell. It's thick and itchy, the odor coating his snout and whiskers unpleasantly. He doesn't know how he missed it while chasing the hare.
His stomach drops when he realizes where he is, finally hears the overwhelming rushing sound of water and its meaning.
Another's territory.
There's no one here, and yet he still feels the weight of eyes on his back, the shadows of horns spearing him through. He shouldn't have rolled on the ground; he can't smell if they're nearby now.
He dashes away, body flattened against the ground until he's almost slithering. It's slower than full on bolting, but it makes him feel hidden, safer from the invisible threat.
No one has seen him, and his den is far enough he won't be suspected. He just has to get to the edge of the territory and book it. He didn't even successfully hunt here. No harm, no foul right?
The dense foliage feels a lot more threatening now, shadows looming over him, transforming into tall monsters in the corner of his eyes.
Hope blooms in his chest when he nears the edge, marked by a stronger scent rubbed all over the trees. He quickens his pace, no longer careful about the noise he's making; he just wants to get out of here before he's noticed by whatever dug those deep scratches in the trees' bark.
As soon as he passes the threshold, he runs, uncaring about the branches and leaves that hit his face and snag his whiskers.
After what feels like eternity (but he knows instinctively is only halfway to his den and, more importantly, to his brook), he collapses, unable to continue. He should be far enough, it wouldn't be worth chasing him when he didn't take anything. He struggles to catch his ragged breath, his short legs twitching from cramps. He hopes he can get used to this, that his body adjusts to the strain despite the lack of food and the temperature making his joints stiff.
(Something ancient whispers old longings in the back of his head. His body shouldn't fall, unbelonging pulling him down every time his paws strike the ground.)
It's dark, the sun unable to pass through the foliage. He should get back now, hide in his den and wait for tomorrow to come. He'll wash off the smell with his brook's mud when the sun is high; the nights have become colder.
But exhaustion hits him when he thinks about doing the same thing tomorrow, about walking around until he finds another prey, give it chase, and eventually lose it. It leaves him empty, like something sucked on his marrow and left hollow bones behind. Over the deep ache, he lifts his head, sniffing whatever the wind brought him, ears perked up to listen for fur or feathers or the singing of cicadas. He'll give it one last chance, and then he'll rest.
The smell still clings to him, mixing with anything that might be close by and distracting him from his hunt. His ears strain to compensate for the loss of one of his senses. Stilling his breathing and closing his eyes doesn't help him pick out any sound over the wind passing through trees. He tilts his head, forcing his eyes shut and perks his ears as far as they'll go but...
He can't hear a single thing.
Alarms set off the deep instinct of wrongness , his body tensing in anticipation while his mind still struggles to catch up, until he finally notices it.
There's no birds rustling leaves, nor leaves crackling against each other, as if the ones that are able to run away escaped and the rest is holding their breath. Only his fast panting is left.
The silence is oppressive, bears down on him, makes him feel small. He's acutely aware of his defenselessness. He slinks once again down low, near tree trunks and along overarching roots. It's only by chance that he cranes his neck to look up.
His whole body jumps, heart skipping a beat from the terror of being glared at by two red eyes. He squeaks, overwhelmed by their size; everywhere he looks, it seems like their body is slung over branches, disappearing behind leaves only to reappear several lengths away and looping back, until he can't distinguish the beginning from the end. Their entire body hangs over him, covering any escape.
Terror rises up his chest when the mass suddenly shudders, the sky shifting at once as he realizes their body spans the entire canopy, snakes of what he thought were ropes of leaves revealing themselves to be dark scales reflecting the color around them. Their huge size should have been clumsy and lazily slow, but then it moves , launching at him with deceptive speed. Hitoshi scrambles away, hoping he can reach a hare's tunnel before he gets caught. Too scared to turn around and see their open maw, he wills his body to go faster, faster—
Black obscures his entire vision in a rush of glittering scales. He slides to a stop, his claws digging trails through the dirt. From this close up, they're even bigger than he first thought, their body circumference dwarfing the trees around them. He has to tip his head all the way back to take in their entire size. Their long heavy antlers betray their age. Hitoshi tries to move, but his body seizes up, muscles pulled tight until he can only tip over stiffly.
There's a hopeful pause, when Hitoshi thinks they might leave him alone. He's tiny and basically a bug compared to them, but they lean closer to inspect him, their teeth hovering right over his face. He holds his breath as warm air envelopes him, hotter than those sweltering days with loud buzzing cicadas. His breath hitches when a hot snout noses his soft trembling stomach, turning him on his back. Hitoshi can do nothing but keep himself as stiff as he can to play dead, while praying that their long whiskers can't feel his thrumming heart.
They breathe in, their almost-bigger-than-he scales shifting to mold to their expanding body, and Hitoshi knows he's already dead; surely they can smell their territorial markings on him, and even if they couldn't, the acrid fear pouring out from him in waves already exposes him.
He's pushed again, exposing the back of his neck. He jolts when their teeth close around the loose skin there. Waiting for the pain, for the sudden snap of sharp teeth, is almost worse than the idea of dying itself, so he closes his eyes and braces for the crushing of his bones.
His heart dips down. The press of the floor disappears suddenly as wind rushes over him and the lower part of his body snaps in the air fast enough it stings. It feels like that time he fell down while trying to eat a bird's eggs. It feels like flying.
He opens his eyes, surprised he didn't feel anything as he died, to a rush of brown and green, everything going blurry and streaked.
He's still in the other's grasp, and irrational anger bubbles and rolls behind his teeth. Couldn't they have just killed him? Why did they have to play? His ears would pin down if they weren't pushed by the wind already.
There's no thundering steps, and trees don't shudder beneath them. It's unfair how graceful they are. They get to be huge and fast and silent , while he's small and still makes so much noise.
He doesn't notice the river until he's dangling right over its surface, the water roiling and splashing angrily at him.
They lower him until he's half submerged. The water is surprisingly refreshing despite the way it leeches Hitoshi's body heat, even with the way it tries to drag him under and carry him far away. He almost stops panicking when the river lights something growly and fluttering in him, chasing the odd slowness from his thoughts. He can't explore the feeling further though, because he's dunked without a warning. His trashing only obscures his vision with bubbles, disorienting him until he doesn't remember which way is up. Water rushes around him, far from being his brook's gentle laps against his scales. He had been mid exhale, not expecting to be dunked in the river, and his air has run out. His body strains until he can't resist the call for air, and he breathes in a huge gulp of water, seeing the foul bloated corpse of that squirrel that fell in a pond and made him sick when he tried to eat it.
Nothing happens.
The last of his air escapes his lungs in surprise at the odd sensation, cold liquid sliding inside his throat and being pushed behind his ears, ruffling his mane. He can breathe underwater.
He's suddenly embarrassed, and then angry at his own embarrassment. Of course he knew he could breathe underwater! He never had the occasion to try with his brook, that's all.
Now that he's not panicking, the discomfort around his neck and face becomes more apparent, as he's dragged through tons of water at a frightening speed. He whines, unable to take a gulp of water and breathe. Suddenly, his body folds and squeezes him when they stop too quickly. The teeth unclamps from his neck.
Hitoshi doesn't hesitate to take the occasion to escape. Only, he doesn't get far, his movements awkward and unsightly in the water. He tries to run in that skip-jump way he found worked best, but it only makes him wiggle in place, twisting him until he's upside down and looking at his own tail, his mane and whiskers going over his eyes.
He flinches when water shifts around him. He doesn't have time to look up; sharp claws close around him, too close for comfort, and bring him close to them.
He's right under them, kept almost pressed to their underside. He barely processes what's happening before they're moving again.
It's a smoother glide than when he was flying, his body following their movements instead of snapping back and forth like one of those sky cloths the fleshy creatures pull in the wind. He tries to squirm away, but there's no way to go. Giving up, he lets himself be dragged through the current created by them.
They're still going too fast for him to see anything more than a hint of blue, and then they enter a tunnel.
The darkness lasts forever, enough time for his eyes to adjust and see the red glow coming from the beast's eyes, until they stop in front of a crack in the rockwall. Surprisingly, the huge beast slithers gracefully inside without scraping the edges. Hitoshi thought he accepted his fate, but now, he trembles at the thought of being eaten.
He chirps in awe when they go through the crack and it opens to a huge cave, bigger than he'd ever thought a den possible. Small shiny rocks are peppered all around, giving the water a soft shimmering glow. Plush moss carpets the floor, driftwood decorates the walls, tied by those brown vines he's seen the fleshy creatures use. He twists around to take in the entire cave, bumping into the beast and barely noticing.
Bubbles tickles his side when the beast's snout nudges him. Hitoshi tries to run away again, but the beast barely struggles to push him into a wall, and then up in a nook. Hitoshi immediately scrambles to slitter into the hole, claws scratching the rocks to pull himself deeper. He curls around himself, baring his teeth at the beast.
The beast just looks at him, their eyes drowning him in a red glow he cows away from.
He squeezes himself into a tighter coil and slowly sinks into his small nook. He jumps when he sinks into something fur-like, before realizing it's only moss. Very soft moss. He nuzzles the moss, crooning when it strokes his scales, instantly hoping to sleep on it. It doesn't even tug his whiskers!
He startles when the water rumbles. He faces the opening of his new little den to see the beast staring at him still. He hisses, but the beast only leans in closer. He shies away when bubbles stream inside his nook, heating the water around him pleasantly, but the rush of current sends his body swirling. He whines at the disorientation, scrambling to catch himself on the rock and moss.
They rumble again, before settling in the cave, their body taking the entire space and hiding the glowing rocks. They keep their muzzle near Hitoshi's nook.
Hitoshi hooks his claws into the moss, kneading it anxiously as he waits for the beast to eat him, but the sharp pain of claws never comes. All they ever do is occasionally blow water into his nook, soft enough to only move his mane this time.
He tentatively stops baring his teeth and rests his head on his tailfin, scraping his teeth on his moss from time to time. The water is pleasantly warm, nothing like the wet cold dirt in his other den. His eyes fall close despite his wariness.
Hitoshi wakes to bubbles tickling his face. He hisses and tries to bite them in reflex for waking him up when he was so comfortable, only to stop, embarrassed and frightened, when the beast rumbles.
He presses himself into the back of his nook, heart quickening. Are they going to eat him now?
They hold something up to the nook's opening. Hitoshi's stomach instantly tightens in pain when he smells prey. He whines, hoping pieces will somehow float toward him when the beast will eat it.
They hold the fish—half crushed and bleeding from huge holes from its side—for Hitoshi to see, before backing away.
Hitoshi is so hungry. He wants to run out and grab it.
Except the beast will be able to catch him and he can't even move without floating upwards and hitting the ceiling of his hiding place.
Unbelievably upset, Hitoshi curls around himself and hides his snout in his tailfin so he won't have to smell the delicious meal. He'd be stupid to get in the beast's reach.
Gentle tapping gains his attention. Hitoshi watches the beast wiggle the fish in the opening of his hiding place before pulling it back and peering at him. When he hesitates, they blow water in his nook, sending him swirling straight out into the open.
Hitoshi squeaks, going stiff from the shock. He slowly sinks to the bottom of the cave, landing on sand, vulnerable and unable to move.
The beast nudges him until he's laying in a corner with a jutting part of the rock wall that acts like an overhang. The fish is placed next to him.
The cozier corner helps him unstiffen, the overhang giving him cover and safety. The beast is blocking the exit, keeping him from escaping, but they aren't attacking him.
His stomach grumbles.
The moment he's able to move, Hitoshi drags himself to the fish to sniff it, the feeling of bloody water and prey smell going through his gills an odd sensation. He bats it before recoiling away as much as he can when moving is so hard underwater. The fish doesn't even twitch, only floats before falling back. Definitely dead.
When he glances at the beast, they're eating their own prey and barely looking at him. Satisfied with his inspection, Hitoshi throws himself at the food, taking a huge bite and shaking his head.
He growls when its scales tickle the roof of his mouth and scrape his tongue, but he's eaten harsher things before. To get a better grip, he coils himself around the fish's body, sinking his claws into it.
Hitoshi manages to take a few scale-filled bites when the water trembles all around him. He lets the fish go, fighting to get away, but unable to do so in the water.
He flinched when the beast's teeth close near him, hiding his head between coils of himself.
He waits, but there's no pain, and after a few tense moments, he peeks to see what the beast is doing.
Indignation almost makes him growl. They're eating his fish!
The beast sees him and rumbles, their whiskers twitching. They take another bite, chewing it slowly, as if to mock him.
Hitoshi is debating whether he'd be able to steal it back when they open their mouth and drop their bite of fish in front of him.
He watches it warily, unsure whether they're going to attack him if he goes for it. The bubbles they blow to push the piece toward him decide for him. He happily lunges at it—or tries to—and bites into the flesh.
Satisfied thrills are let out at the taste; it's so good, better than the cicadas and birds he's caught, better than the morsels he managed to scrape off the fish. The lack of scales makes the food more enjoyable, and Hitoshi chokes less on his bites, the meat more tender now that it's been gnawed a little.
Better yet, the beast gave it to him.
(The thing in the back of his head croons pleasantly at the offering, some of its snarling edge sanded off. It's not his first, but it has so much intent, it eclipses everything he's ever received.)
It all disappears too fast, the tiny piece barely filling up the festering hunger that suddenly rears its head, but before Hitoshi can whine despondently, the beast drops another half-chewed piece. Hitoshi barely gives it a suspicious sniff before he attacks it.
It goes on until Hitoshi can barely take another mouthful. With his stomach filled for the first time in days and the cold chased from even the tip of his claws, Hitoshi thinks that maybe the beast isn't so bad after all.
Hitoshi wiggles, huffing when his legs push against nothing. There's nothing to grip here, and when he tries to run on the ground, he keeps getting floated up and out of its reach while sand gets caught in his gills.
He tries again, barely advancing before he's thrown back in the empty water. Hitoshi gives up, too achy to make another attempt. He slowly sinks back onto the sand, limbs loose and tired.
The sand that finds itself in his mouth is grainy and slightly crunchy when he chews. He wants to doze a little, but his nook is so far away; he'd have to drag himself across the sand and scale the rocky wall, and Hitoshi doesn't want to do that.
The beast watches him, huffing from time to time to bubble their mane out of their eyes. They snake closer, sending a pang of fear through Hitoshi. He's too exhausted to do anything but make a half attempt effort to burrow himself in the sand.
They nose him out of his hiding bowl, their breath warming the water around him. It invigorates him enough that he starts pushing himself away. They haven't hurt him yet, but Hizashi can't help but be scared. The cave is so small, one wrong move from their part and he could be crushed against the rocks.
They rumble for a while, their pauses and starts an indiscernible pattern, until they get impatient and nudge Hitoshi up so he floats. They then place themself over him, their belly touching his back.
Before Hitoshi can sink back down, they move in long undulating moves. Hitoshi's pulled along the current they produce. At first, Hitoshi fights it, tries to wiggle out of the strong currents, but they don't stop nor slow down, and he finds himself sullenly carried along, going through laps around the cave.
His muscles move in ways that feel better than his half-skip-half-hop attempts. He starts going along with their long side-to-side gestures, and when he gets too tired, he lets himself be dragged.
After a while, the current shift, their shadow disappears, and then Hitoshi is pushed around the cave all by himself. He squirms around, before realizing he can control his movements better when he goes back to undulating. With a triumphant chirp, Hitoshi moves around the cave, occasionally having to stop and float down to the bottom when he gets too tired.
When he's too tired to continue exploring his newly found freedom, he's rewarded with a few ripped up fish. After he finishes eating, he swims back to his nook, missing the opening a few times, before squeezing himself into the back. Soon, he'll be able to go so fast, even the beast won't be able to catch him! And then, he'll check on his brook.
He just needs to wait, regain his strength by eating all the fish he can. Maybe he'll try when he's less cold. It's making him sluggish.
Hitoshi wiggles in between two rocks, curling up so he's pinned in place. When he last fell asleep, he woke up disoriented, floating at the bottom of the cave, several lengths away from where he remembered.
Hitoshi waits for the beast to take their usual place, crooning softly when warm water blows over him. It doesn't quite chase away his rigid joints, but Hitoshi doesn't mind. With one last huff, he dozes off.
The beast suddenly appears right as Hitoshi starts making his way through the tunnel leading out of the cave. He doesn't dare move when they grab him and return to the cave.
They huff and effectively block the exit when Hitoshi tries to go around them again. They move fast, the water around them pushing Hitoshi back and making him go stiff for a moment when their glowing eyes bask him in a red glow. Embarrassed and slightly frightened by their quickness and warning rumble, he swims back to his nook. He growls a little when he has to squeeze through the opening, the rocks and moss pressing uncomfortably onto him. Hitoshi has to let his tailfin hang out in the open to be able to fit inside. Even when he scratches the edges of his nook and rubs his itchy forehead on the rock, he can't manage to make it big enough.
The beast approaches him, rumbling and clicking, their lower end settling down in front of the exit.
He's so bored and he wants to go back to his brook. He thought he'd be able to get out this time; he'd woken up to an empty cave, the beast having gone out to hunt fish.
The beast rumbles again, before opening their mouth.
Hitoshi squeaks when three fish come swimming out, two of them with a ripped fin. They swim erratically all around the cave, looking for somewhere to hide.
Hitoshi's heart quickens, his tail starting up a slow wag. He can catch them; he's bigger and can swim so well now, even though his muscles feel frozen, as if left unused.
He waits until one of the fish comes close to him before shooting out of his nook, his teeth catching on its fin. It struggles and manages to escape with a messed up tail.
Hitoshi follows it. He's not as fast as its quick bursts of speed, but it's tiring, and soon, Hitoshi manages to use one of the cave walls to launch himself at it. His claws sink into their side and he's quick to wind himself around it to squeeze it. It trashes until Hitoshi bites the back of their head clean off, although it takes him a few tries before he gets the right spot.
He opens his mouth to start eating it, but hesitates. The other two fish keep fleeting distractedly in the corner of his eyes. He peeks at the beast. They're watching him, chin resting on the sand. They're not moving to catch the fish.
He decides to bury his caught fish under a layer of sand, before rushing to hunt the other two. It's fun, and his heart is thrumming too fast to eat. It distracts him from his itchy forehead.
Hitoshi manages to catch the other injured fish, but the last one is too fast for him. Hitoshi swims after it until his muscles cramp and ache. Pouting, he goes to unbury his food and nibble on his fish. The last one is mocking him, swimming into his view, letting its scales catch the pebbles' light, before darting away. He finishes his food without tasting it, eyes following the last fish. He's going to catch it.
He launches at it a second time. Swimming after the last fish occupies what seems to be his whole day, and yet, he can't manage to even give it a nibble.
Frustrated, he almost gives up to go back to his nook, but before he can do so, the beast snatches the fish easily, rips its back fin and sends it back into the cave.
Hitoshi wants to be annoyed that they stole his prey, but the fish is slower now, and Hitoshi manages to catch it after a few laps around the cave. He chirps and growls at it, biting it a few times. He caught it!
He's about to eat it, before remembering the beast. They usually catch fish for him. He doesn't know why they didn't this time.
Maybe they're sick? Heavy unease weighs his stomach down. They can't be, who else is going to keep the cave warm and bring him fish?
Hitoshi buries half of himself in the sand, eyeing the beast. They haven't eaten yet. If they get hungry, they might decide to eat Hitoshi.
Rubbing his itchy forehead against the sand to give himself courage, Hitoshi starts making his way closer to the beast. Their eyes follow him curiously, and Hitoshi is quick to retreat as soon as he drops his fish in front of them.
They rumble, nudging the fish and looking at Hitoshi. Its skin is damaged from Hitoshi's gnawing, but that just means they'll have an easier time eating it.
They take a small bite when Hitoshi keeps his distance, before blowing it closer to Hitoshi. He waits for them to eat the rest, but they don't. Hitoshi happily wraps himself onto his fish. They've eaten, so now they can stop being sick. And Hitoshi gets to have a whole other fish just for himself!
A few disappointing scale-filled mouthfuls later, Hitoshi is back in his sand bowl, watching the beast, curled protectively around the rest of his fish.
It doesn't taste as good as when they rip pieces off for him. Hitoshi hadn't noticed with the other two, too caught up in the excitement of his hunt.
The beast rumbles, tilting their head to the side. They've given him his fish back earlier.
Hitoshi slithers closer, the grip he has on his fish tight. When he's right in front of the beast, he theatrically scrapes his teeth against the fish, before whining.
The beast tilts their head further. They slowly reach for the fish, which Hitoshi reluctantly lets go.
His anxiety is soothed away when the beast starts tearing up the fish and offering him the pieces. Hitoshi can barely eat over the unintentional thrills he lets out, rolling in the water as he coils around each dropped morsel of food. He hardly notices how close he is to the beast.
By the time he's chewing on its fin, he's floated a bit farther away, full and content. The beast watches him for a moment, before they rumble and snake closer. Hitoshi watches them suspiciously, but doesn't run to his nook yet. They have been trying to come close to him for a few days, but Hitoshi always retreated back to his hiding spot. They've been sick and they've helped him rip the fish apart though. Hitoshi will let them this time.
He regrets it immediately when the beast's head comes close—too close!—to his own.
Hitoshi doesn't have the time to swim away; their forehead touches his.
Suddenly, images bloom in his mind. He sees himself, pathetic and on the forest floor; his skin is pulled taut over bones, his scales dull and an ugly gray compared to the beast's. There's another image of himself but bigger, and then another of the beast's reflection.
Hitoshi growls in confusion. The beast and himself are the same? He'll grow up to be as big as they are?
The beast—there's a fleshy creature calling them 'Shouta', and for some bizarre reason, they seem to be the same size as the creature—sends another image of Hitoshi, this time blurry, as a huge beast, hunting fish.
Then, a vision of a huge rippling river, the sound of water, and a perplexed feeling.
Hitoshi thinks of his brook, muddy and shallow. His old den is inferior to his new one, but he wants his brook back.
The beast—Shouta?—sends a vision of themself guarding Hitoshi's brook, flying over it. Hitoshi mulls over the suggestion. Reluctantly, he admits that Shouta will be more effective in guarding his brook. They're slightly more intimidating than he is.
Shouta pulls away, Hitoshi's real vision coming back to him. He startles at the sudden shift, but doesn't go stiff nor does he immediately retreat to his nook. If Shouta and he are the same, then Hitoshi isn't going to be hurt, right?
His musing is interrupted when Shouta winds around him, creating a nest with their body, with Hitoshi right in the middle. They nose him, until he isn't as tense, resting their head near Hitoshi's. It's warmer like this than when he hides in his nook, and he isn't squeezed by rock walls either. It alleviates some of the pressure on his bones and the stiffness around his paws soften.
The deciding factor is the way Shouta's scales alleviate his itchiness so much better than his rock walls. Hitoshi rubs his forehead against their scales' grain, chirping in relief. The bliss encourages him to continue despite Shouta's shudder of discomfort. Their scales' edges are sharp enough to scrape at his own scales.
Finally, he settles down on his own tailfin, snug against Shouta's coiled body, his background restlessness finally absent with the knowledge that his brook is safe.
Hitoshi flails a little when he's woken up to Shouta nudging their foreheads together to send him the vision of Hitoshi hunting fish.
Hitoshi growls excitedly, immediately going for a darker region of the cave. He struggles to control his gestures, nowadays his body difficult to bend when he wakes up. More sand than he intends silts into the water, and while it makes his throat and gills itchy, it also helps camouflage him better.
He wiggles to unfreeze his joints, biting the ones that stubbornly refuse to move as fast as he wants. He's going to catch all of the fish this time.
At his thrill, four fish swim out of Shouta's mouth, a few bubbles accompanying them and obscuring the direction they take for a moment. Only one is missing a fin.
Hitoshi waits until the fish calm down and near his hiding place before launching himself into a chase. He gets two if them easily, not taking the time to hide them this time and instead leaving them near Shouta so they can guard his prey. The last two smaller fish are more difficult; he follows one around, unable to reach them every time they get into a tiny crack in the wall. One even hides in his old nook, and Hitoshi whines when he realizes he can no longer fit. He claws at the rock, until he gets an idea; sticking his snout in the opening, he blows water in the nook to push the fish out.
It takes him seven tries before he manages to push them into his claws reach. He spears it, swimming as fast as he can to Shouta. He knocks their forehead together to show them his idea, his mane puffed up in delight when Shouta's pride lights his inside.
He uses Shouta's antler to launch himself toward the last fish. It swims to the ceiling, Hitoshi almost hitting it in his overeagerness.
He twists around to follow the fish back down when he catches movement. Turning back to the ceiling, he startles at the sight of the large reflecting bubble. He's never noticed it before, and he can't help but tilt his head this way and that. He's grown, his skin no longer taut over bones, and while some of his scales remain dull, most are now shiny enough to reflect the rock's glow.
But the biggest change are the new antlers gracing his forehead. They're nothing more than little stubs, the skin around them scaleless and slightly irritated, their size not even coming close to Shouta's impressive panache, but Hitoshi thrills, captivated by their sight.
He must have spent too long admiring himself, because Shouta comes to find him. They rumble, knocking their forehead gently and a vision of his prey escaping comes to the forefront of his mind. Hitoshi growls before swimming back down, having forgotten about the last fish he has to catch. It takes him a lap around the cave to warm his muscles, but he doesn't even mind it, not with the knowledge that he's getting antlers.
Soon, maybe they'll be big enough spear his prey!
He's sluggish today, more than usual. He can't shake all of his frozen limbs loose, no matter how much he moves or bites them.
He's in no mood to hunt. Shouta must sense this, because they feed Hitoshi directly, occasionally blowing heated water over him.
When Hitoshi finishes eating—not without Shouta's insistent prompting every time Hitoshi's eyes slip shut—he's nudged into Shouta's mane, where he curls up under their chin. The moment he puts his head on his tailfin, he falls asleep.
A rumble brings his consciousness closer to the surface. Warmth spreads over him.
He lets out a soft growl to be left alone. He's sleeping.
The rumble lowers into an easier sound to ignore. Hitoshi goes back under.
The water tastes like blood and food. A spark lights up behind his teeth.
Yet, Hitoshi barely feels the ache in his stomach. His limbs all feel frozen. It's not worth chasing fish.
Hitoshi lets his mouth fall open. Maybe the fish will swim right in.
Something touches the top of his head, and then fish pieces are placed in his mouth. Hitoshi barely questions it. He chews sluggishly before swallowing.
Another piece is held up his snout. It keeps nudging him until he bites on it. It hangs limply from his mouth for a while, until his cheek is nudged and he remembers to eat.
Hitoshi growls when another piece interrupts his sleep. It takes all of his effort to twist, until his head is squished between his body and scales.
It's easy to ignore the gentle nudges after that. He's already deep asleep when they grow more insistent.
It's unbearably warm, yet his bones stay frigid cold. He's aware enough to know he's floating. It confuses him; it's been a while since he drifted in his sleep.
Scales and claws prod him. There's deep rumbling, and then something touches his forehead.
Suddenly, images bloom in his mind, at first too fast to catch anything but an impression; worry in the forefront, too big and bitter to parse through anything else.
The visions narrow after a few moments, until Hitoshi feels like a huge rippling river, hears the sound of water that's almost frantic.
He thinks of his brook, calm and muddy and small, but utterly his. His head lolls to the side, but he's cradled into a more supporting hold. The pressure in his head grows heavier. It echoes Hitoshi's thoughts about his brook.
The water winding down a hill. Ripples when a bird swoops down and lands on a lake's surface. A babbling brook.
A forest forms around him. A huge splash gains his attention. He turns just in time to see a fish jump out of his brook. He starts chasing after it, unbothered by the fact that the fish is flying through the air.
He hops over the roots of the big tree with its tall branches he enjoys climbing, slithers under a formation of rocks that looks like a hunched-over hare, and takes the long way around where he knows the fleshy creatures like to explore.
He manages to catch his fish mid-leap, growling and crooning around his prey. It flops in his mouth, but Hitoshi's teeth keep it in place.
He starts heading toward his den when a blurry shape swims to the forefront of his mind. Hitoshi knows this shape, even without their features. He tilts his head to the side in confusion; the beast's territory is farther away.
The strange presence in the back of his head presses until Hitoshi accidentally lets go of his fish and any thought about the beast slips away.
He whines in dismay, but his mood quickly turns playful; he's not aching in hunger and he doesn't feel tired. He can run after it as long as he wants.
It swims up, tauntingly circling his head. Hitoshi crouches, before he launches himself at the fish. It shoots away, heading to a few bushes, the ones with the sour berries. Hitoshi stalks toward it, but it hears him and Hitoshi's teeth barely miss it.
It swims for so long and it keeps darting away right as Hitoshi goes to catch it, but every time Hitoshi forgets about it and goes to investigate a trail or a particularly bright leaf, it appears at the edge of his vision. At one point, it shifts halfway into a hare, and Hitoshi keeps noting for some reason the odd sights he'd seen when he first stumbled onto the beast's territory.
The moment his ears pick up on the rushing water of the river, his claws finally sink into the fish-hare. He growls victoriously. Over his prideful satisfaction, he doesn't notice the lack of flavour, nor the way the presence in the back of his mind slips out.
His forehead is touched, but it feels far away. Hitoshi huffs, barely an exhale.
An inquisitive noise pings in the back of his head.
Hitoshi huffs again. Yes, he's still tired.
The presence in his mind settles down. Their drowsiness combines with Hitoshi's.
He dreams of catching cicadas under a protective red light, a dark shape right by his side.
On the surface, a river freezes over. It's the coldest day of the year.
Amusement touches his forehead. It grows tenfold when he lazily bites in its direction.
His ears pin down when his snout is nudged and when he goes to snap his teeth again, they sink into a fish.
Hitoshi groggily opens one eye, and then the other. He's under Shouta's glowing eyes, bathed in red.
Shouta brushes his forehead, their antlers framing Hitoshi. Ice cracking as water sluggishly dribbles through the fracture lines comes to his foremind before fading away, leaving room for worry-that-isn't-his to curl around his stomach and search for any hunger pangs.
Hitoshi chews on his fish. He's a little empty, but in the same way he usually is right before Shouta brings him food. Nothing like the painful cramps he used to get back on the surface.
A satisfied rumble ripples through the water. Shouta curls around him, their mane swaying lightly. He struggles to keep his eyes open when he's so cozily draped over Shouta's coils.
A yawn cracks his jaws open. Shouta gently places the fish's head he'd been chewing back between his teeth and bumps their cheeks together. Hitoshi finds that he doesn't mind the contact.
He finishes the last of his meal before slumping into them. Only his tail hangs out in the open, the rest of himself hiding in their mane.
His eyes slip shut before he knows it.
Hitoshi lets himself be dragged through half-lidded eyes. Shouta's has a clawed paw under his body, keeping him from slipping away. They're currently on their seventh lap around the cave.
It's nice; he doesn't have to exert any effort, but his muscles get to stretch after what feels like forever. Shouta keeps encouraging him to swim with them, but he doesn't have the energy yet.
They slow to a stop, Shouta twisting down so Hitoshi bumps into them and not the rocky walls.
Hitoshi makes a half-hearted attempt to swim down to the sand floor, barely achieving a flailing wiggle before he gives up and lets himself sink slowly. Shouta catches him before he touches the ground.
He clumsily touches their foreheads together to share the fuzzy warmth that's filling the space between his heart and his stomach. As soon as he gets an acknowledgement, Hitoshi slithers under their chin and closes his eyes.
Hitoshi eyes the exit with a considering growl. He knows Shouta guards his brook; they give him images of it every time they return from hunting.
Yet, Hitoshi wants to see it by himself, wants to wade in its no longer muddy waters.
It doesn't help that he's filled with excessive energy he can't seem to spend. Shouta tries to entertain him with bigger or faster prey, but it's as if all of the time he's spent sleeping is finally catching up.
It makes him act more brave than he usually does.
He snakes toward the tunnel that would lead him outside, expecting Shouta to pop up at any moment. They're out to meet the fleshy creatures, who are supposed to give them colourful things with interesting textures. Shouta told him it's supposed to be food, and Hitoshi will get to try it.
When they don't appear, Hitoshi swims against the current, breaks the surface of the river and pulls himself onto the bank. The sky is dark and cloudy, but he barely notices it when he's finally outside for the first time in what feels like forever, exalted at his successful escape.
It takes him a few moments before he relearns how to move out of the water, the pull of gravity making his paws and muscles hurt a little.
He's distracted from the pain when he sees a cicada resting on a tree trunk. Hitoshi stalks closer, before jumping and catching it. It crunches under his teeth, but Hitoshi is dismayed to find that it tastes horrible, bitter and too wet. He spits it out onto the dirt, slightly betrayed by the change of taste. He doesn't remember cicadas tasting bad.
No matter! He's not here to eat cicadas. His brook awaits him.
He inspects the trees and the grass, unsure of what direction to take, before deciding to follow the pull in his chest.
It has started to rain, but the tree canopy is thick enough to keep him mostly dry.
Hitoshi amuses himself by trampling grass and biting bush branches. He has so much more energy than a few moments ago; he feels larger and faster, even if he keeps bumping into tree trunks. Despite the burst of energy, he has to rest a few times, his legs and paws familiarly achy in a way he never noticed before. His stomach clenches at the sensation; he'd forgotten how much in pain he used to be.
It's simply the heavy air and the odd way his mane stands on its end that's affecting him. Shaking his head, Hitoshi disregards the part of him that wants to go back in the cave. He has his brook to find.
He's hopping over tree roots when something impossible happens: the sky splits in two.
Hitoshi freezes, the bright crack glowing purple.
The loud unfamiliar growl shaking the earth pushes him into a sprint.
He ducks under low leaves and snakes close to tree trunks. It's not safe, he's going to be eaten, the sky is falling and he's going to die.
Another crack opens the sky. Hitoshi throws himself in a bush, frantic paws clawing at the soil, softer now because of the rain.
Three loud roars later, Hitoshi is huddled in a shallow hole in the ground, coiled tightly around himself. He's thrown dirt to cover most of his body, his tailfin draped over his face. He almost can't see the sky splitting, but the loud beast can be clearly heard over the pounding rain, even over his hare-quick heart.
He stays quiet, swallowing his terrified whines. He wants to go back to the cave. He wants Shouta.
Hitoshi startles with a loud growl when something touches his tailfin, immediately jumping to his paws and baring his teeth, snarling and trying to bite whatever is attacking him.
Rumbling breaks through the fear blinding him. A black snout parts the bush he's using as a hiding place.
Hitoshi clambers out, throwing himself at Shouta, whining and latching his claws onto their mane. He presses close to them, curling into a small tangled mass to hide his face between the knots.
They coil around him, keeping his trembling form hidden from the rain, the sky and its frightening beast. They rumble, worrying their muzzle against his tense body, trying to get him to unwind.
Hitoshi is not going to do that. It's too dangerous out there, and with his head hidden in his body, the beast isn't as loud. He startles with a whine when the beast roars. It sounds so close, and it's louder than even Shouta. They have to go hide.
Hitoshi waits for another roar before peeking his head out to hit his forehead with Shouta's, thinking hard about their cave and its safety. He catches the impression of Shouta flying over the cloud and the broken sky, but Hitoshi hides his face before fully understanding, unwilling to stay exposed any longer.
Claws pick him up when the skin on the back of his neck isn't loose enough for Shouta to carry him that way. He's cradled against their body, entirely covered by their paws. The only indication they're moving is the feeling of muscles rippling against Hitoshi's coiled form.
After four more roars, they're underwater. The waters are stronger, but the unknown beast is muffled and farther away. They move until they're back to safety, Hitoshi tucked between Shouta's body.
Despite this, Hitoshi doesn't uncoil until he's warm again, and he only stops trembling when Shouta rests their chin over him, hiding him away.
Hitoshi kneads Shouta's scales, whining and still frightened, although he's fairly certain the beast won't be able to find them. The tunnel leading to their cave is too small for them.
To reassure himself, he wiggles his head out from under Shouta's and knocks their forehead together to ask them.
Shouta rumbles, head tilted and whiskers twitching as they think of his query. Hitoshi chews on Shouta's mane impatiently before, finally, they touch his forehead.
There's the image of a tree, bright green leaves yellowing before falling down, then green leaves growing on it again. Quickly, it's followed by a cheery blue sky that turns menacingly dark, bright flashes ripping it apart, before going back to its usual blue. Concepts about seasonal water movements, electrifying heat, and a warm pulling that builds up every time the fleshy creatures send their own visions toward Shouta's river and leave food on its bank overwhelm Hitoshi. He doesn't understand, and when he pulls away, he's more disoriented and confused than before.
Shouta rumbles, before pushing him back under their chin. Hitoshi debates asking for clarifications before deciding to let himself be nudged into a better position. It doesn't matter. He's safe from the beast here.
Hitoshi wakes with a fearful squeak, the lingering memories of an empty stomach fading with the soft stones' glow in the cave. Yet, the old desperation that comes with it lingers, takes hold of his heart and squeezes.
He looks around, searching for the comforting rumbling. He's alone in the cave.
Hitoshi swims as close to the ground as possible, retreating against a wall. He wishes he could go hide in his nook, but he's too big now and has to settle for the small moss-covered divot Shouta scratched out for him. They used driftwood to make a small roof, which Hitoshi had delighted over, but now, in the emptiness of the cave, he can't help but remember how weak the material is.
He has to hold his tailfin in his mouth to keep it from hanging in the open cave.
He stays there, staring at the tunnel leading out into the rest of the river, waiting for Shouta to come back.
He kneads the moss, absentmindedly catching the flecks of it floating up in the water and swallowing them. What if something bigger than he is finds its way here? More terrifyingly, what if Shouta doesn't return?
Hitoshi whines around his tailfin.
He waits and waits and waits, until his head keeps floating and his eyes fall close. Every time he catches himself dozing off, he has to shake his head to wake himself up, determined to be prepared to defend himself. Between a blink and the next, Shouta's head appears through the tunnel and silently slithers into the cave.
Red eyes roam around, before settling on Hitoshi. He jerks, the pounding of his heart keeping him from crowding them and taking comfort by coiling around their antler.
Deep rumbling somewhat settles the jittery fear keeping him locked into place. Hitoshi watches Shouta swim closer, until they're able to send warm water into Hitoshi's space.
It's all it takes for Hitoshi to drag his head into the open, near Shouta. They rumble again, using their body to drag the rest of Hitoshi closer and into their mane. Their whiskers tickle his back.
Once Hitoshi is able to remind himself that he isn't hungry, that the need to gnaw on anything he can access is a remnant of the past, he squirms to settle more comfortably.
Shouta blows a stream of warm water onto him, before gently touching foreheads together. When Hitoshi thinks of his night memory, of waking up alone and terrified, Shouta pushes images of fat fish being caught and eaten. When it doesn't quite shake away the crawling pit, Shouta shows him fleshy creatures surrounding a huge animal, with delicious smelling food placed all around it. There's red and gold everywhere, with rows of lights hanging on long poles fixed in the ground and fluttering leaf-textured decorations.
Shouta's joy and celebration fill Hitoshi, their sleepiness blending with his own. Hitoshi dozes off to the sound of fleshy creatures happily chatting about new beginnings.
A/N: Dragons are kinda like a tadpole, as in the babies have to be in water to develop properly.