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Once again, I posess the memory of a fruit fly. I forgot the sweet send-off at the end, or rather left it not completely pasted through. Do take another read.

Equals - Chapter IV

A/N: This is a long one, featuring Miko and Mizuki taking a dive into Factorial's memories. Enjoy! A/N: If anything's wrong on a writing level, do tell me even if it is a typo. Pretty please? CW: Stuff typical of Equals so far - dehumanisation, self-depreciation, domestic abuse.

“Get over here already.”

The firm voice of Matsui caught Factorial mid-drinking. Usually he would stop whatever he was doing to reply as keeping her waiting meant nothing but trouble. Today, however, he could allow himself to finish the glass of water before dashing towards his handler.

It was one of those very special days. The garden, kissed by warm summer sun, buzzed from activity. Though Lady Matsui had only two visitors, she never spared neither effort nor funds to provide only the best service. Maids constantly orbited around the trio, filling up cups, passing on snacks or simply fanning the relaxing noblewomen. Factorial himself had no clear idea as to why they visited, other than that they came to do business of some sort. It was far from the first time he had heard the words “loan”, “arranged” or “latifundia”, but he didn't understand what connected them, or even what some of them meant. Perhaps he was too dumb to grasp those ideas.

Knowing that he was the main entertainment for the afternoon, Factorial hurried to take his spot before the three vixens, lounging on marble benches in loose, borderline indecent outfits they could only allow themselves to wear in private environments. The stone must be cool, Factorial thought. The sweltering weather only worsened his already subpar state. To prepare him for the showcase, he ate less and completely stopped drinking water by yesterday evening - it made him look just like Matsui wanted: lean, yet with defined muscles. His head was spinning, his fur stuck to his damp skin, his body burned underneath his kimono even if it was opened to display his chest.

For now, the best he could do was not think about the heat and focus on what mattered: pleasing the audience.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Present yourself, Factorial.” Matsui topped her command off with a flick of her wrist.

“Yes, miss!”

He did what he was trained to do and quickly fell down to his knees. Factorial sat down and spoke, eyes cautiously fixed on the floor.

“In the name of my beloved wife, Yamada Matsui, I welcome you into this household.” He turned towards the silver furred female sitting to his owner's left. “Welcome, Lady Kamura Shion.” He bowed, touching his forehead to the pavement. He turned to the red-haired vixen of smaller stature on her right. “Welcome, Lady Yamada Karuto.”

His ears caught a small hum of approval from his wife. But he wasn't done yet.

“Thank you, my benevolent Mistress, for having the chance to entertain you this afternoon.”

As he bowed, Matsui placed her bare foot on his head, pressing it further to the ground.

“Good boy.” She turned to her friends, her cup-bearing hand motioning to one of the attendants. “Now, ladies, I came up with a new game. I think it is perfect for the evening.”

Factorial eyed the large golden rings brought in at her request. He knew them well, very well by this point - after all, tens of hours of training made him intimately familiar with their weight and shape. Although what was to follow wouldn't be simple, it was fairly easy in execution thanks to his preparation.

Matsui continued as the servant split the stack of rings in three parts, passing them around to the vixens. Although the rules were not yet set up, Karuto and Shion already glanced between them and Factorial. “The idea is simple. He stands a distance away and we throw a set amount of rings toward him, one at a time. The less he catches, the more points you receive.”

“I’ve practiced with javelins recently.” Said Shion, smirking. “This should be easy.”

Matsui scoffs, lifting her foot up from Factorial and motioning him to stand at the other end of the garden. He takes off at the speed of light. “Don't be so hasty. I've trained him well. I seldom manage to make it difficult for him myself. Do you really think you could do better?”

Karuto’s eyes follow Factorial as he runs, seven bushy tails swaying behind him. Her eyes discreetly scan the tables nearby. “Don't worry, I'm not a greenhorn either. I believe a bet is in order?”

“Three thousand each. The winner gets it all.” Shion’s proposal earns nods from the other women. “Any more rules, Matsui?”

She raises up, gracefully, her silken robes so thin they show her slim body underneath, flow as she positions herself across from Factorial. He can't help but be jealous of how thin they look.

“Besides throwing it within reasonable reach for him, we need to give him a chance, after all…” She casts her smug gaze over Factorial. The boy swallows - this cannot mean anything good. “...All moves are allowed. I'll start.”

With a flick of Matsui's wrist the ring is released into the air. Factorial’s grey eyes track it, sending signals into his brain and then the rest of his body; he leaps upward, his seven tails flexing to balance him. Without much trouble the ring ends up in his firm grasp. Factorial glances down at it, but is quickly distracted. His ears angle towards the women.

“Tsk tsk tsk!” Shion clicks her lips, attracting his attention. “Catch, boy!”

The ring flies further away from him this time, threatening to go over the tall fence. There's no way he would reach it normally, but it's not that big of a challenge for his training. Factorial speeds towards it, eyes scanning the garden for any stepping stone. He finds it - a flower crate. A very careful jump lands his bare foot on the edge of it, getting him a boost. He flies upwards, tails synchronised with the jump in a powerful flap, letting him grab the toy and fall down. The ring ends up looped around his arm.

Karuto is next; she tosses her ring without warning right behind him. Factorial puts his foot on the wall and pushes his body backwards. Just as the ring passes by the fox catches it straight on his neck, proceeding to the ground in an elegant salto. He springs upright, puts his hands to the sides and proclaims proudly:

“Ta-dam!”

Panting, he looks to see their reactions. Shion nods in approval, the other noblewoman smiles silently. Matsui looks back at them with a proud smirk.

“Gorgeous, isn't he?” Matsui's singular tail, traditionally the only kept out amongst the upper class, sways in flaunt. “My boy is the most handsome.”

The other women approve, their eyes roaming up and down the male fox, visibly more interested in his chest than his agility. Factorial's ears settle down as he slowly drops his arms; his smile sulks temporarily, disappointed at the lack of recognition, but he shakes it off in the most literal sense, sending droplets of sweat and stray hairs to the sides. His collar rattles silently, name tag clicking against the buckle.

“But is he truly wonderful underneath? Or did you just paint those abs over him, huh?” Shion asks playfully, raising her cup towards Factorial in the distance. “Show us a bit more.”

“With pleasure.” His wife turns back. “Dog?”

The response comes immediately.

“Yes miss?”

“Strip your top. Show us your body.” All tails on the audience flick impatiently. He feels their eyes bore into him, waiting impatiently. Even the maids steal jealous glances.

They wished they would get in on the action too. This thought makes his skin crawl. His habit stays strong and Factorial buries fear behind happy thoughts. That trick was nice, right? If only Matsui could pet him now! She didn't do that because - obviously - she couldn't be seen being so soft to him. But in private she did, sometimes. It was their nice little secret.

He nods, his smile returning at the mental image of affection. “Of course, miss!”

He quickly throws off his kimono, letting it fall to the ground; it doesn't stay long as a servant picks it up before scurrying away. He's just a tiny bit sad to see it go - the cover was comforting. But it was what he was meant for, and he should be proud of it. He was a pretty fox, right?

Doing what he was taught to, he flexes, hardening his biceps. The skin is soft there, unmarred, perfectly tended to, providing a perfect sight of his brimming with muscle, skin to a pillow overstuffed with plumage. A twist to the side showcases the well defined triceps; clenching his fist displays his strong wrist tendon.

Below his neck his chest was clearly defined; breasts and abs, hard enough to notice and fondle but seated on a lean enough body not to look threatening. His chest was wrapped in leather straps dyed blue that stuck tightly to him, forcing his breasts out for ease of access and a feminine look. His nipples were struck through with small, spiked barbells, big enough to comfortably pull in case Matsui desired to hear him squeak. Muscular as it was, the texture of his chest was imperfect - it was wholly entwined in a tangleweb of white scar tissue, darker, raised burn marks and plasters. Plasters over plasters, bandages upon bandages covering sections of his torso where fresh wounds still lingered. They adhered to him, covering as little of his body as possible to let Matsui make use of all of him. Though usually the bindings were soaked in blood and rarely changed to slow healing, they were changed for the occasion. Visible from a distance were also small patches of dirty black across his body, down from below his navel and up to his neck. On its sides they were small, left over from Matsui's cigarettes, but as the marks followed down to his chests, they became bigger sometimes, the symbol of Mora visible on closer inspection; the more disgusting, infected or botched burns were hidden away behind his plasters. Besides covering his ugliness, the bandages concealed his lower ribs, perfectly visible against his skin.

It's true that he was hoping to catch some leftovers from the vixens’ dinner. Matsui always gave him some when he acted well. He hasn't eaten anything since yesterday morning - to make his muscles as visible as possible for the party. Luckily, the stress of performing and the fear of punishment pushed the hunger away, for the moment at least.

Factorial did his best not to think about his body as he presented himself. Noticing it would only distract him; distraction would mean making a mistake. Making a mistake - punishment. He could not embarrass Matsui in front of her friends by messing up his routine. Besides, he was quite used to them by now: the tightness of his harness, making it harder to breathe and the pain on his stomach, feeling as if knives dragged through it as he turned and leaped. All in all, he thought, it was not too bad; when his body was being “chiseled”, Matsui left him to fight off the ongoing infection instead of scrambling to close any new wounds. It was the little ray of sunshine in this situation that Factorial welcomed with open arms. If this is what it took to rest, he would take it gladly.

But their gazes… He could not dismiss them. These weren't what he was used to - mockery, indifference or cruelty. It was something else: lust, wormlike, crawling in their minds, tapping against the glass of reality to gauge how long they would need to wait before their fantasies could come to life. It happened every time they visited. Matsui had to please her guests, convince them of her greatness and thus make them more lenient towards whatever scheme she was weaving. Factorial knew he had to play along; it was his purpose to please. His body was not his own. Matsui, in her twisted empathy, advised him to detach from any idea of physical dignity. If he never considered his body as part of himself, she claimed, it wouldn't hurt as much. But how was he supposed to push his body away when pain constantly reminded him it was his? Besides, wasn't it the whole point of his male existence, to suffer and please his wife?

If so, then… Why couldn't he bear it? Why couldn't he do what he was meant to, be a good boy and be proud of it? Be happy that they touch him, give him attention, use him for what he was destined to be used? Why couldn't he forget about it, the way their slimy, wet tongues dragged across his suffering body, their hands pinned his to the ground and crawled across his stomach down to his-

Factorial can't hold it - the shudder crawls across his bare body, but he manages to turn around just in time to hide his stomach visibly clenching in disgust. He takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm the fear-induced nausea that grips his very soul. He felt ashamed. He didn't know why he was like this. As a dog he should be proud to be touched like that, but - against his training - he…

He didn't want them to touch him… Not like that.

Factorial swallows heavily, flexing his arms to stop the tremble and shakes his head to chase away the bad thoughts. Luckily, the women didn't seem to notice.

“What a pretty boy he is.” Shion says, smacking her lips ostensibly. “I don't see why you would complain. He's got a pliable personality and good genes.”

“I don't like redheads, personally. They're so awfully tough. What fun is it when you can't get a reaction out of them?” Bored, Karuto tosses her next ring towards the male fox. Factorial stumbles and collapses to the ground, but manages to catch the toy before it touches down. The pain doesn't matter - what does is that he didn't disappoint his mistress before her friends.

Matsui throws hers, flying directly towards Factorial. He catches it without problem, quietly sighing in relief at their seeming disinterest in his body. Usually he would be scared of getting vixens bored, but this time, just this once, he allowed himself to feel relieved at disappointing them. He should be punished, yes, but pain was better than the… the touching.

“Ladies, ladies. That is the very point, isn't it?” The play continues, but their attention is not on the sickly dog jumping and rolling for their entertainment. “He is a wimp. He cries and screams at anything I do. How am I supposed to improve at my trade if he reacts this way every time?”

Factorial's wife always scoffed at this part of him. He was pretty, undoubtedly, loyal and innocent - traits that made his pain threshold all the lower. Torture was an art, a difficult one that could provide hours upon hours of entertainment. It could get repetitive though - that is why constant experimentation and creative inspiration is necessary. The only way to improve, learn what hurts him the most? Practice, which was difficult if there was no reference scale. “He just stops responding when it gets too much for him.” Matsui adds, looking at her dog leaping into the air. “That's all.”

Karuto hums in agreement. “Might be troublesome, yes, if that's what you want to do with him. But why would you? Isn't he a nice enough toy?”

“He's doing too good, girls.” Shion smirks. “Check this out.”

The vixen throws the object forward, watching as Factorial's eyes lock onto it. Just as he reaches out for it, Shion summons a thunderbolt next to him, emitting a loud crack right by his left ear. The women laugh as Factorial shrieks and falls down, curling into himself and covering his ears. He whimpers softly, unsure of what happened or what is about to happen. His hands remain firmly pressed to his head, shielding his most delicate area from harm. The conversation continues, unaffected by the act of petty cruelty.

“I wanted a red fox not only to be my training ground, but also to accompany me through life. Hold me up with his dependable stoicism, be the only person I can fully rely on to do a good job. One that will come when called, of course, but retain character.” She frowns, looking back at her property, now carefully getting up with a confused expression. Another piece is thrown his way; he clumsily catches it. “Not this soft rag of a male. All he does all day is reply “yes miss” to anything I say. Not a bit of challenge, no hardness of character. It is enjoyable to wipe his smile clean off his pretty face, but it does get boring sometimes.”

“From what you've said, he sounds a bit… Childish, so to speak.”

Factorial continues securing more and more hoops, regaining most of his lost rhythm. He tries not to listen to what is being discussed - not out of curiosity, but simply because hearing slander about himself would only scare him. It was also distracting. He made a mistake once, he shouldn't make more. Or at least let Matsui get points. He shouldn't embarrass her in front of her friends.

“Call him by the name, Karuto. He is simply retarded.” Matsui waves over to one of her staff who promptly brings a pillow, stop which rests a silver ring, different to the ones already being thrown. The edges on this one are thinner, far thinner. “He acts like a pup despite being six centuries old. He did not grow up. I tried to torture it out of him, but he's too stupid to even understand a message as clear as this. He talks to plushies, he wants to play Temari, cuddle, draw childish nonsense; no interest in politics, poetry, literature or art. I wanted a male, but I got stuck with a deficient snot-nosed brat instead.”

Factorial listens closely, but feels nothing when she calls him that. It wouldn't be the first time he's heard this. By all accounts, he thinks, she's right… He should be majestic, he should be proud and stoic, yet here he is, acting like a kit. She's so kind to keep him despite his flaws. She said other mistresses would have their dogs put down at this point, so every day, no matter how painful or difficult, was her mercy. All Factorial could do to thank her was be the best male he could ever be.

Factorial jumps up to reach the next projectile, quietly whizzing through the air.

A splash of red erupts as soon as his hand touches the deceptively bladed edge of the ring. He screams out as the trap slices clean through his skin, digging through his muscles and stopping with a slight whirr only when it reaches his fingerbones. Crimson stains his kimono, face, hair… The splash dyes the grass he falls on. His lip begins to tremble as he clutches his wounded hand. Though blood swamps the injury, he can clearly see the bloodied bone poking from underneath the ravine wrought out in his delicate palm.

Meanwhile, the vixens muse. They don't laugh, don't taunt, they don't even chuckle. They look on with vague amusement as Factorial fights the searing pain radiating from his hand. He lowers his head to hide the tears beginning to pour from his eyes. He takes short, shaky breaths to try and calm his nerves.

His ears turn back, picking up the footsteps of a maid approaching with bandages. One of them was always there to quickly close any and all wounds they could, doing their best to make Factorial presentable. He looks towards her and stares at the pack in her hands - there were always mild numbing salves in there, applied to let him continue his performances. Trembling, teary-eyed, he looks at the medic with gratefulness in his eyes.

“No. We’re not done yet, kit.”

Both kitsune turn towards Matsui, now raising her hand in protest. The maid is confused. She looks at her paymistress, and then back at Factorial. His eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape. His lower lip is trembling silently, silently mouthing “no”. The servant seems hesitant, but her gaze houses no empathy for Factorial; she bows her head and backs off, uncaring of Factorial’s pleading expression.

He chokes back tears, turning to look at Matsui’s feet. It’s difficult to get the words out. “Mis… Miss… Can I-I bandage… M-my hand?”

Shyly, he moves his sight up at Matsui’s face - not her eyes, never her eyes - making sure to look as pitiful and pathetic as he can. It’s what she liked, and if she liked it, she might show him a scrap of mercy. “P-please…?”

Factorial’s eyes find no kindness, only frigid indifference. Behind Matsui, her friends smile expectantly, eager to see where the situation will go. “I will not repeat myself. Your hand won’t fall off, will it now?”

“No, Miss…” Factorial looks down, sniffling. “It w-won’t…”

“Good.” She snaps her fingers - another one of the staff bows and scurries out of the garden back into the house. “Now, my friends… How about I introduce you to someone who will prove my point?”

The dog's head drops, one hand still clasped over the bleeding injury. Crimson continues to soak into the lush, well-maintained grass below. He breathes. In. Out. In. Out. The tears seem to have no end. It wasn't the first time he was injured, but the wound itself was only half of the reason for his despair.

“Ow, does it hurt, little one?” Karuto smiles, approaching Factorial and crouching beside him. He doesn’t dare to look her in the eyes. “You’re cute when you cry.”

Her hand reaches out and pats his head in a fake gesture of comfort. Factorial chokes back a sob.

He knows that it is his purpose. He remembers what he was taught - this is the only thing males are good for, besides mating. He was born to please his wife, and Matsui happens to love his tears. Her happiness is his happiness…

But he couldn't convince himself to believe that at this very moment. He didn't want her to do anything to him.

It didn't make him happy.

He wasn't a good dog. He wasn't a good husband.

Maybe…

Maybe he deserved whatever came next…

“Ah, there it is. Our very special guest.”

All eyes in the room turn towards the returning maid. Upon seeing the orange item in her hands, Factorial's eyes widen.

It is a simple plushie, about the size of two of his tails, resembling a carrot. It has two big, green leaves for hair - with thread-sown patterns - and tiny stumps for arms and legs, as orange in colour as its body. Two big eyes, with rosy circles underneath and a tiny smile below them face him.

His ears lean back. The pain in Factorial's hand hasn't subsided, but his mind is now fully devoted to Mr. Carrot, now exchanging hands and ending up in the grasp of Shion.

“Fufu, it's quite a pretty toy.” She grabs it roughly, turning it around in her hands, examining it from every angle. “What's his name, hm?”

Factorial's mouth opens to answer, but no words come out. Conflict starts within his soul: his mind tells him that he must answer, but his heart… It begs them not to hurt him, not like that. But Matsui surely knows all about Mr. Carrot.

“He… He's…” He tries to speak, but the thoughts of them breaking the stuffy, tearing his little limbs from its body, flood his head. Tears come in increased numbers. It's difficult to speak. His vision is a blur of green, white and red, covered and made unclear by his wet eyes. “He's… Please…”

“What? What are you moaning about, dog?” Karuto crosses her arms, tail swishing in growing excitement. The competition is long forgotten in the minds of all three women. “Weren't you taught to answer the questions of your superiors?”

“Don't hurt him… Please…” He bets, making sure to lay his head as flatly against the ground as he can manage in a pathetic bow. “Not him…”

“Ugh. Stupid animal.” Matsui frowns and starts approaching Factorial. He raises his eyes slightly, only to jolt upward when he sees the look of displeasure on her lips. “That's what I meant when I said he is retarded. He's not deaf, obviously. He just doesn't understand spoken language it seems. Or worse… He’s being disobedient.”

His hands shoot out to grab her wrist as she bundles up a fistful of his hair and pulls up, forcing him to his knees. “If that is the case… Looks like he needs punishment, right, Mr. Carrot?”

“So that's the name, huh? Fittingly idiotic.” Karuto scoffs, smiling. She then takes the plush from Shion and wiggles it around, facing the male, impersonating his toy with a higher, more childish voice. “Oh boy! My buddy has been a very bad fox and needs to be set straight! Mistress Matsui, isn't that right?”

“Mhm. Watch closely, carrot, so you might remind him later.” Factorial moans in pain but is soon silenced by a hard slap on the cheek. The force of the blow is hard enough to free him of Matsui's grasp and send his face jolting away. Blood fills his bruised mouth - his teeth clamped down on his tongue. His head is spinning, his mouth is full of blood, but Factorial manages to remember the proper etiquette - instead of spitting it out, he lets the red mess flow out of his mouth on its own.

His mind is blank, thoughts oscillating uselessly around the numb pain on his face. His owner’s voice fails to register in his ringing ears. A mix of spit and blood drips continuously downwards, overwhelming Factorial’s mouth with the familiar, metallic taste. He can feel his cheek and lips starting to swell. After searching inside his mouth with his tongue, the conclusion that he didn’t lose any teeth this time provides him with a meager shred of comfort.

“When a vixen, especially your wife, asks - you answer.” Even without looking up, he can feel the piercing gazes of the women boring into his skull. “Why did you not do as you were taught?”

Any consideration of the reason isn’t necessary as Factorial shuffles up from the ground. His healthy hand rests on his cheek, now starting to color different shades of red and purple as blood from ruptured vessels gathers under his skin. The other he curls into his sleeve, aiming to staunch the bleeding as best he can while using his elbow to prop himself up to a kneeling position.

“I w-was… Scared”, he admits. But not for himself, no. He could take any pain, any injury - it would be a simple matter of the recovery time after one was inflicted. Lash marks heal, a torn body stitches itself back together - but Mr. Carrot would not survive being tossed into the fireplace, as many toys before him were. “I don’t want him t-to be hurt…”

“I see.” Matsui’s response is cold, yet a hint of cruelty underlines the words that follow. “This plush is important to you. Is it not, dog?”

Unwillingly, he nods. Despite his powerlessness to stop whatever Matsui has in mind for his punishment, Factorial backs up his gesture with a short sentence, remnants of his survival instincts smoldering in his brain. “I… I like how it looks…”

Matsui smiles. There it is, she thinks. The cornerstone of good torture - a weak spot. Now? It was only a matter of capitalising on it.

Dismissively, she turns her back towards him and addresses her guests. “It appears as if we have a traitor in our midst, ladies. This unassuming plush has become the instigator of a rebellion.” The woman turns to Karuto, smiling in jest. “You clearly encourage him to be disobedient. What have you in your defence, Carrot?”

“Oh… Um… I’m guilty, but I was just listening!” The carrot is made to “respond”, Karuto waving around its stubby arms in dramatic fashion. “It’s him! He thinks about straying from you, Lady Matsui!”

“Such an admission from your dearest friend, Factorial!” Shion exclaims, smiling, her hand on the arm of Karuto who is barely holding in a laugh. “What a twist! You trusted him, didn’t you…”

The messenger of Mr. Carrot chimes in. “And you looked so cute… To think you’ll need to be put down…” Speaking with her own voice, she then sighs. “What a waste.”

“No! No, no, no…” Factorial stumbles forward, trying to get up. Panic rises in his heart - any mention of disobedience was a certain road to death. Matsui has told him about foxes whose wives had their dogs killed for mere attempts at disobedience. Wasting his owner’s mercy would be an unimaginable act of entitlement. “That’s not true, miss! I promise, please believe me!”

A theatrical turn of the head and crossing of arms signifies suspicion of the vixen. “Why should I trust you, hm? The words of Carrot are at least worthy of investigation.” She glances towards her slave, a slight frown of disappointment on her lips. “A very pointy investigation, long and arduous and going on and on until your mind opens to me like a book, revealing all the evil you’ve hidden away in your little mind.”

Factorial crawls up to her sandaled feet and lays his head on the grass before her. “No! No, please! I’m good, miss! S-see?” He places his swollen, bloodied lips on her shank, kissing her foot in a pleading gesture. “Please… Please…”

“Hm. I suppose I could trust you.” She lifts her leg a bit, making Factorial increase his sycophancy twicefold, thankful for her mercy. “But a white carpet would look so beautiful…”

“I c-can do so much more than look nice, miss!” His eyes begin to sting yet again, this time - for a different reason altogether: fear. She was not joking. Matsui had many fox furs in her home. He didn’t know when she got them nor who she made them out of, but - with how often she mentioned skinning him for his hide - they must have come from males. He would not want to be one of them. “I can s-sing!” He hums a quick, panicked tune. The melody is offset thanks to his voice cracks. “See? I can dance too, I can massage feet, I can cook- I-I’ll scream nicely just…”

He uses his long sleeve to wipe the leftover blood and tears from his face, trying to look proper - to no avail. His split lip bleeds bright red again.

“Please…”

A deep breath fails to calm him down. His hands grab Matsui’s foot tighter, afraid that letting go would mean certain death. Factorial places his forehead on it, hoping, praying she gives him another chance. His ears are flat against his head, tails flush against the ground. He looks small. Pathetic.

“Don’t kill me…”

He sobs weakly.

Just as she likes.

Finally, Matsui makes a sound.

She laughs.

“Well”, she says, her ears bouncing slightly as her chest rises and falls with each burst of vicious joy, “since you ask properly, I’ll give you a chance.”

Factorial’s ears instantly point back up, tails starting to swish again. He smiles, kissing her skin between frantic exclamations of gratitude. Matsui snorts and kicks her leg up, smashing against his nose as she releases her foot from his worshipping grasp, but Factorial seems to think nothing of it. He sits down, hands straight against the ground and between his legs, looking joyfully up at her. She continues.

“I will allow you, dog, to prove your loyalty to me.” She reaches into her robes, retrieving a pair of polished, silver handcuffs. Despite their ornamental nature, Factorial learnt their true durability on countless occasions as the bit into his wrists, scarring the skin around them to this day. “Put them on, hands behind your back.”

“Yes, miss!” He takes them and quickly locks one over his left hand, moving them both backwards and skillfully cuffing himself with the other ring. There are only three hoops of chain between them, making any hand movement painful. Despite the imminent pain, this was good - this was familiar territory. “What next, miss? You can do anything you like!”

Matsui reaches into another of her pockets and retrieves her cotton handkerchief. Most vixens used silk, but the red haired vixen - with her extraordinary fortune - could afford to have one made of such rare, exotic material, to blow her nose into at that. A luxury item of this sort could buy a small home near the mid-rim of the capital.

“That I know, male. And I intend to make use of that.” Her voice grows colder, commanding. The object is tossed towards him unceremoniously. “Unfold it and put it over your face. When you’re done, lay back.”

The white ears in the room sulk for a moment in confusion. How was he supposed to do that without his hands free? Defaulting to what he knows, he drops forward on the grass and crawls towards the tissue. Using his front teeth to grab the fabric, it is quickly unfolded, the open material visibly larger than his head. Not bothered in the slightest by the still-wet fabric, he bites down on the lower part. Factorial rolls over, using his nose and chin to position the cloth over his head.

Blinded, he could not see Matsui taking a kettle from one of her staff.

Mizuki could hold the vision no longer. Before Miko’s eyes, the scene crumbled away, its disgusting image mercifully falling to darkness.

—

Factorial looks up at himself in the mirror. He’s still not in the best of shapes, at least in terms of his face. Above his neck, each exposed patch of skin was tightly wrapped in a thick layer of snow-white bandages, hiding away everything but his eyes, mouth and ears - though the skin on them was raw red, chipping away in flakes, the fluff inside and around them seemed undisturbed.

Despite the grim image one could imagine, his tails remained raised as he turned back towards his bed. It wasn’t the first time something like this happened and, ultimately, it was of no consequence. He would heal eventually, he always did - no matter what Matsui thought up and tested, the skin seemed to grow back with a rugged persistence, smooth as if nothing happened. What did matter was that they were alive.

I couldn’t just regrow my hide, could I? Hehe. I’m not that good yet.

His steps are wobbly, even despite the amazing counterbalance of his tails. There was something in his drink again, but this time it was the good stuff. He took two sips and it stopped hurting, sharp stinging turning to warmth, as if he was sitting by a cozy fireplace. He didn’t know if it was approved by his wife or sneaked in by one of his handlers, but Factorial would still make sure to be extra good to everyone around.

Especially that Mr. Carrot, now comfortably reclined on his big pillow, was safe with him. Matsui could have taken him away like all the other toys he’s befriended over the years, yet she spared him. He didn’t know why, nor did he care.

“Are you comfy?” The fox says, tossing himself on the bed. It was the fluffiest thing he’s ever felt - that was definitely how clouds felt. That obviously didn’t mean he gave up on his dream of sleeping on one some day!

There, obviously, is no answer to his question - at least from the toy itself. The silence stopped bothering him after he learned to let his thoughts flow and soon heard their voices as if they were real.

Comfy as can be, Factorial.

He nods, smiling. “Great. Let’s go back to sleep then… I hope you don’t feel too sad about not reading again.” He takes the plush in his hand, fluffing his pillow with the other. “It’s just that… My face hurts when I speak out loud. I’ll have to whisper for a bit more.”

Um… I feel sad, to be honest. But not about reading. I could have… I should have stayed quiet back in the garden. Factorial’s imagination paints a concerned frown over the carrot’s smiling face.

“Silly. I told you not to, remember?” His tails wrap around his body, clad in a blue robe meant for sleeping. Two of them weave behind his arm and push Mr. Carrot closer, making sure he is warm too. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. Miss Karuto forced you to speak.”

His eyes take on a stern, lecturing look as he continues. “They would have punished you. It would hurt.”

But…

“No buts, Mr. Carrot. I promised to protect you, didn’t I? It’s alright - I know you were scared.” Factorial’s gray eyes look into the thread-woven eyes of the toy. “I know how that feels. It makes you do or say bad things.”

He tries to force the memories back, but against his best wishes he glances towards the empty cage in the corner of the room.

I… Thank you, Factorial. You’re kind to me, but you don’t have to. I’m just a carrot, after all.

“Don’t say that. I have to be kind to you - that’s what friends do, right? You’re my friend.” Factorial buries his covered nose into the plush, rubbing it gently to show affection. “And it doesn’t matter that you’re a carrot. You’re just like me.”

Though reality can’t facilitate it, in Factorial’s mind, Mr. Carrot nods. He leans closer, nuzzling into Factorial’s chest for safety. His promise in mind, Factorial wraps his fluffy tails around them just a little tighter.

A smile graces his lips. It was usually there when Matsui wasn’t around.

“I look like a snowball with all those bandages on my face, don’t I? Hehe.”

Thanks for reading!

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contentloadingandstuff · 1 day ago

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Reblogging this since I forgot about the request for a taglist.

@milo-onigiri

@nothankyew

Sorry for forgetting about your requests, but - assuming you are still interested in this - there are two new parts out - read chapter III here. You might notice that the male reader was changed into a particular character, Factorial - he was intended from the start to be the fox described in Equals, but the first chapters came out at a time when I wasn't sure if I would make it into a series. But now it's getting serious - I even commissioned art for him!

Anyway, if anybody wants to be on the taglist, feel free to say so and I will include you in the future.