CHAPTER 8

The next day, they decided to take it easy, lazing around Ralia’s apartment while playing games and browsing the internet. They didn’t even properly get out of bed until half past ten, and thirteen—an hour exclusive to Latia, which had a twenty-six hour clock compared to Moccs’ twenty-four—found them lying on the couch, brainstorming ideas for what to do for the rest of the day. Kelsen favored continuing to stay in and watching a movie or three, and Niko found himself agreeing, rather than insisting they go out and see more Latian landmarks. After debating within himself for a time, he eventually suggested they invite Fyche over as well.

When he did so, Ralia and Kelsen gave each other a look. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” said Ralia.

“Yeah. Not to be mean, but Niko, the last time you wanted to hang out with someone you didn’t know well...I mean...you got back yesterday.”

“I know, I know,” he said. “But come on—you’ll be here to make sure nothing goes wrong. And beyond that...if he really wanted to do anything, he could have last night instead of bringing me here. He helped me at risk to himself with no real reward. I don’t think we have to worry about him being like Pakos.”

“Okay...but I’m also a little hesitant about inviting strangers over to my apartment.”

He shrugged. “I guess that’s fair. But, then again, he’s not a stranger—and he already knows where it is.”

Kelsen put a paw on his shoulder. “Look, I know you really want to be right about this...”

“I do! I do want to be right about this. I want to be right that I can trust Latians and I don’t have to worry about them all secretly being monsters!” Ralia winced, and he shook his head. “I mean, not you, obviously. But—I just don’t want to have to feel unsafe around the people I’ve dreamed of meeting since I was a little kid.”

“I...all right. But I swear to god, if he says one rude thing about Moccans or acts at all like he enjoys the power dynamic, I’m kicking him out.”

“That...makes sense.”

Niko sent Fyche an invite message, and when he looked up from his phone, Ralia and Kelsen had decided to video call Kelsen’s parents. He reluctantly agreed to join in. The call went much better than the one they’d made previously, but there was still a great deal of tension that Ralia’s cheer and Kelsen’s good health did little to dispel. At one point, they spoke directly to Niko.

“I trust you’ll run it by us before you make any decisions like this in the future?” Gloria, Kelsen’s mother, asked.

He bit back an annoyed response, but was still less tactful than he could have been. “With all due respect, we’re adults. We don’t need to get your permission before we do something. That said, in the future, if Kelsen wants to tell you something, I won’t say anything against it.”

She didn’t seem very pleased with that, but let it go.

...

About twenty minutes after Fyche messaged that he was on his way—and about ten after the pizza arrived—Ralia was summoned to the door by a polite knock, leaving Kelsen and Niko on her computer desk. “That was fast,” she remarked as she opened the door, only to pale and take a step back. “You need to leave right—”

Pakos shoved past her roughly, knocking her to the ground, and advanced on Kelsen and Niko. “You little fucker,” he seethed. His eyes were bloodshot, he was wearing the same clothes he had the night before, and there was still a little dried blood on his face. “The police are looking for me! All because of you!”

Niko took a few steps back. “P-Pakos,” he said. “You’re taking this way too far. Let’s just calm down and ta—”

“Fuck that! And fuck you! You ruined my life! I wanted one thing from you, one thing you fucking offered yourself, and now I’m going to fucking jail!” He reached out for Niko. “But before I get caught, I’m getting some revenge.”

To everyone’s shock, Kelsen stepped between Pakos’ outstretched paw and Niko. He was shaking, breath racing, heart pumping, and was even crying a little, but he didn’t back down. “Y-you’re gonna have to go through me,” he said, voice cracking here and there.

Pakos did actually stop for a moment, though it seemed less because he was moved or intimidated and more because of the absurdity of the situation. “I—YOU?! You’re really going to—you think you can—fine! Have it your way!” He raised his paw to strike, only to be hit from behind. Ralia stood there, paws in fists, teeth bared. But he barely seemed to register her blow, stepping forward, grabbing her with one arm and punching her solidly, sending her to the ground. With a dismissive snort, he turned back and struck Kelsen—less a solid blow than a swat to get him out of the way, but it still sent him flying off the desk.

Niko grabbed for him, but missed. “No!”

“I didn’t intend to hurt them, but they got in my way. Now it’s your turn.” Pakos snatched Niko up with both paws, and began to squeeze. Niko yelled and then screamed as he was crushed. It felt like all his bones would break.

I always wanted to meet a Latian. Now I’m getting killed by one, he thought. As last thoughts went, it wasn’t exactly comforting.

Then a red-furred arm appeared around Pakos’ neck, and Pakos was suddenly off balance, choking for air. “Let him go, or I’ll snap your fucking neck,” hissed Fyche from behind. At first, it appeared that he would refuse, but when Fyche tightened his grip, he let go, dropping Niko onto Ralia’s chair, where he gasped and cried out in pain.

Ralia stirred. “Gotta...we gotta call the police...”

“They’re already on the way,” said a voice from the doorway. It was Linds, holding her phone.

“Good, that’s...Kelsen, where are you? Kelsen!”

“Over here,” Kelsen groaned from near the wall, where he was making an effort to stand. “I think I’m all right. Just hurts a lot.”

“Check on Niko,” said Fyche, holding Pakos, who had stopped struggling. He wasn’t quite unconscious, but between lack of air and an opponent stronger than him, the fight seemed to have left him. “This bastard was trying to crush him.”

“Shit,” Ralia muttered. She grabbed Kelsen and brought him over to Niko, who was clenching his teeth and trying not to yell.

Kelsen’s examination of Niko was cut short as the police arrived. It took some time, but the story was eventually told, and medical technicians were called for, including Moccans. It turned out that Ralia was overall fine but would have quite the black eye, visible even under her fur, while Kelsen had hyperextended his knee and would have a number of bruises along his legs and torso. Niko was the worst; he had severe bruising all over, had cracked a rib, and had one of his shoulders dislocated. He was given a sling for his arm and a brace for his chest, and orders to get as much bed rest as possible until he could follow up with his doctors at home.

So, of course, after the police left with Pakos, he insisted on getting back up. Ralia was too busy fretting over Kelsen to stop him. He limped over closer to the door, where Linds lingered. “How did you get the cops here so fast?”

She bit her lip. “Oh, um. I called as soon as I saw that guy in the building.”

“How did you know what he was up to?”

“I...may have...overheard a few things yesterday,” she admitted. “Like that he was hurting you and there was a fight and stuff.”

“Well, damn,” Ralia said. “I’ve never been so relieved to have such a nosy neighbor.”

“I’m not nosy! I just hear things.” She tapped her large ears. “I mean, how could I not?”

Ralia couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I guess I can’t really complain right now. Thank you, Linds.”

“You’re welcome! And...” She turned to Kelsen. “I’m sorry about the other day. I was curious, and I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome, but I did. I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s...I forgive you.”

“That’s great.” She smiled and bid them all a good night.

“I guess she heard us recording the video,” said Niko.

Fyche looked puzzled, but didn’t ask. “O-okay, that’s enough. You really need to lie down.” He reached down, as if to pick Niko up. The mouse couldn’t help but breathe in sharply and take a few steps back, throwing up his good arm in front of him. “Oh. Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I, uh, I shouldn’t have—not right after he...” Fyche straightened up. “I-I should go.”

Niko clenched his fist, and made himself step forward. “No, wait. I don’t—I don’t want to be that. I won’t. I’m not gonna let this scar me, or whatever. I’m not gonna let this change the way I think, the way I act. I’m not gonna be afraid.” He raised his good arm. “Pick me up, please.”

“Are you...”

“I’m sure.”

Fyche reached down and picked Niko up as gingerly as possible. “You are one tough guy, you know that? I-if I’d had half the stuff you’ve had happen to me, I’d, uh, probably be in bed, drowning in self-pity.”

“I doubt that. I’m pretty sure you’d have kicked his ass every time, size difference or not.”

“Heh.”

Kelsen, meanwhile, was hugging Ralia’s face as best he could. “I’m sorry.”

“Always apologizing. What exactly are you sorry for this time?” Ralia said softly.

“You got hurt because of me.”

“No, I got hurt because I opened the door without seeing who it was first.”

Fyche looked over. “Hey, do we have to go over this again? The only one to blame is the one who did it. Whatever excuses he has—his anger, his childhood, whatever—this is how he chose to react to it, by hurting others. Others who he knew couldn’t fight back. He deserves all the blame and then some.”

“No, you’re right,” Ralia agreed. “Um, hey, Fyche? If you’re sticking around, could you close the door? As helpful as Linds has been, she doesn’t need to hear everything.”

“I...i-if that’s all right.”

She nodded at him encouragingly, scooting over on the couch to make room. He closed the door and sat down, careful not to jostle Niko, who spoke up. “Of course he’s staying. The pizza’s probably cold, but it’s still good, and we’ve got a movie to watch.”

Kelsen eyed him balefully. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? Two working arms or not, I’m not gonna let some jerk ruin our night. Right?”

Fyche couldn’t help but grin, and Kelsen relented. “Only if you lie down. The whole time.”

“Ugh, fine, Dad.”

...

After spending the next morning recovering, Niko was able to convince Ralia and Kelsen to go out and meet Fyche for lunch. While on one hand they were quite concerned with his health and his and Kelsen’s safety, they wanted to see him happy. And besides, it was hard to say no to him when he put on a dejected look with his sling and brace. And Kelsen didn’t say it, but he had noticed the way Niko and Fyche looked at each other the night before, and noted how badly Niko seemed to want to include Fyche in their plans.

“Only for a little while,” said Ralia. “And we’re not going anywhere that isn’t Moccan-friendly.”

“Sure, sure,” Niko agreed.

They had to workshop it a bit to find a time that fit with Fyche’s work schedule, but eventually all met up at a popular restaurant in the center of the city. It was really only one step above fast food, but it tasted good, served Moccans, and was conveniently placed. Of particular interest to Niko was its second floor. He insisted they find a spot up there on the outside balcony, so he could look out at the city from just a little higher up.

Kelsen, for his part, purposefully sat with his back to the railing, making sure he wouldn’t have to constantly look out at the massive city.

As they ate, Ralia asked Fyche, “So, what do you do? Are you a student?”

Fyche seemed embarrassed by the question. “Oh, no. I, I just work at a grocery store. Been working there since before I finished secondary school. No college or anything.”

Kelsen shrugged. “I just got my first real job. Data entry.”

“Yeah, a job’s a job,” said Niko. “I’m a ‘virtual assistant’.”

“What does that mean?”

“Mostly that I manage emails and do a bit of customer service.”

“And I’m in IT. You know, ‘Have you tried turning it off and on again?’” Ralia laughed.

“Oh. So you all work in, er, computers and stuff.”

“Yeah, basically.”

Fyche looked down at his food. “I d-don’t have a computer, so I wouldn’t really know about any of that.” He looked up to see that while Ralia was slightly surprised, Niko and Kelsen were looking at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?”

“You don’t have a computer?”

“No. I can’t really a...it’s not a priority for me.”

“Dear god,” said Niko. “I knew things were behind on Latia, but that’s insane. On Moccs, having computers is a basic right.”

“It—it is? Really?”

Niko laughed. “Nah, I’m just kidding. So you use your phone for everything, then?”

“Everything? I mean, phone calls and text messages, yeah.”

“But what about...” Niko trailed off as Ralia gave him a look, and realized he was making Fyche uncomfortable. “Oh, uh, never mind.” He glanced around for some way to steer the conversation. “Hey, do me a favor?”

“Hm?”

“Take me over to the railing. I can sort of see from here, but I want a good look.”

“Uh, okay, sure.”

Fyche carried him over, just out of earshot of Ralia and Kelsen, but well within range for them to watch carefully. “Set me down on the railing?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Eh, worth a shot.”

“Not really.”

Niko leaned out, leaning against Fyche’s thumb, and peered over the city, at the hustle and bustle of Latians coming and going, on foot and in vehicles. He could even see part of the spaceport from here. “Hey, sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there.”

“It’s...fine. I always wanted to have a computer and get into tech stuff when I was a kid, but things didn’t really work out. I’ve had to spend money on other things ever since I was sixteen.”

“I take it your parents aren’t helping you out?”

“My dad passed when I was a kid, and my mom is out of the picture.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I-it’s all right. I’m just not used to talking to people about, well, that kind of stuff. The last person I was really open with was...a former partner.”

Niko looked up. “He was a jerk, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah. That’s where I learned all about abuse. He hit me sometimes, and just kind of...dragged me down, all the time. Made me feel worthless, and made me feel like everything was my fault. It took me a really long time to realize that he was the problem, not me. And at that point, it felt like I could never get out. I tried to leave, once, and he...this was a while ago, in a different city. The authorities didn’t believe me, or maybe they just didn’t care.” Niko wisely said nothing, and simply kept listening. “That’s when I started learning self-defense. It was hard to find the time and money, and harder to get to and from training without him knowing, but I did it. He didn’t find out until I’d been going for months, and when he came at me that time...I stopped him. Laid him flat out. And I realized then that he couldn’t stop me from leaving. I guess all that’s why I was so invested with you and that Pakos guy.” Abruptly he looked down at Niko, then away. “S-sorry. I’m, uh, I’m talking too much.”

“No, not at all. I...want to get to know you better. And you being willing to open up is a pretty refreshing change.”

“He wasn’t much of a talker?”

Niko laughed a little bitterly. “No, not really. Preferred to act.”

Fyche shook his head. “Hey, he’s gone. They’re both gone and out of our lives. Let’s be glad about that.” Almost absentmindedly, he rubbed a finger down Niko’s back, before realizing what he was doing and flushing bright red. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“Hey.” Niko looked him in the eye and smiled. “I didn’t mind.”

The fox’s eyes widened before he looked away again. He muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“...Nothing. Just...this is...this is sort of what I was...ugh, I can’t say this without sounding like an idiot or a creep.”

“Sound like an idiot, then,” Niko said, grinning.

“Oh, ha-ha. Fine. I’m just shocked, because this is basically what I was looking for.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“You know...hanging around Moccan-friendly places.”

“Huh?”

“I...wanted to meet a Moccan. And be friends, you know? Ugh, it’s so weird to say out loud.”

“Hey.” Niko patted Fyche’s thumb. “I don’t think it’s weird. That’s why I came to Latia in the first place.”

“Then we’re both weird.”

“Hey, fine with me. Now that we’ve met up, all the normal people better watch out!”

They both laughed, but Fyche seemed subdued. “We are still weird, though. M-most people are nice enough to Moccans, but still think we should be separate, or only trade and not mingle, stuff like that. All my coworkers think I’m, well, crazy.” He sighed. “I just wish we could change that.”

“Yeah...most Moccans think coming to Latia is crazy, too. Especially people like my parents. I doubt they’ll ever change, but others might, in time. It’d be cool if we could somehow help that...change...” He suddenly brightened up. “Hey, I have an idea! Take me back over to Ralia!”