#(Helping Hand is he/him but fem presenting btw. Because what's a Claudia variant without a dash of gender fuckery)

[wisteriasymphony]

So, imagine you're Hesperia. You've recently gotten both your son and his... rival? to the side of the resistance after multiple years of apparently fighting against them. This is probably a rather pleasant outcome, considering said son is nearly done with his schooling and would've likely turned fighting you into his life's mission post-graduation otherwise. He's still not entirely over disobeying you at home, but you'll take what you can get.

As your son and his rival-turned-tenuous-friend apparently possess pretty powerful miraculous, The Supreme has all but sent the entirety of their remaining forces to hunting your resistance down. Luckily, you've recently recruited an invaluable kamiko. They're a natural-born therapist, a tenacious (over-)worker, and most of all... a healer.

Helping Hand is quite literally born from a desire to support others. It's no surprise this kamiko has been deployed for nearly every mission since, partially due to Helping Hand's own insistence. Their abilities to heal have allowed your ranks to fight longer, work harder, and even recharge their miraculous, even if only once.

But this time you need more than just 'once'. You look through Helping Hand's eyes as they rush further ahead than you yet again—A tactic you've become all too familiar with as of recent, as your champion will often forget to take routes you can follow. He heals Shadybug (new name pending, though she's a bet obstinate on possibly keeping the old) without a second thought, but can't draw enough energy to recharge her earrings again.

You grip the brooch harder, taking a deep breath. You allow the kamiko to feed on not just kindness, but love as well. Platonic, romantic, agapic: You're not keen on delineating right now, what vein it is doesn't matter. Helping Hand's kamiko changes from just a desire to support to a love for those he helps, and it adds three more dots to her earrings. Just enough to let her find her back to safety.

Now, Helping Hand is off to find your son.

He falters, tripping on rubble and broken glass. The Supreme and its ranks have devastated the city, but you've made a promise with the group to only permit the final cure once everyone is back in headquarters. You think it's only safe, after all, considering that all of this small resistance is practically your children—Nothing is right unless you know they're all safe. Is that why you're pushing Helping Hand to rescue Paw Noir so much? You stop to loosen your grip from your brooch, taking a breath.

If you were looking through Helping Hand's eyes, you'd see that perhaps... you let the kamiko feed on a bit too much.

Claudia Perreault is not a stable as she seems, nor as healthy as she looks. It's a wonder that all of you know so much about her—everything she does, the lengths she goes to volunteer and learn and teach and experience—without really knowing her at all. Following a death in the family that happened many, many years ago, she's dedicated her life to doing everything she can, as much as she can. No breaks, no exceptions.

The kamiko found this and it feasted.

Helping Hand feels a nauseous anxiety creep up their spine as the thoughts start to overwhelm. He's not doing enough, he has never done enough, and every moment that Paw Noir is not found and healed is a sign of failure. Failure, failure, failure. Claudia couldn't save her sister, so why should Helping Hand be any different? He moves on, but what was once a reckless optimism charging their steps has broken out into terror. He must heal, he has to heal, he is worthless otherwise.

You don't realize the fault of this lies on you when you check back in to your champion pulling your son out of the wreckage. Paw has a pained look on his face as he studies Helping Hand, even bringing a clawed hand to their jaw. "What happened?" he asks, in a tone you're not used to your son using for anyone. It seems your champion brushes the question off.

It's only hours later, when Claudia Perreault hasn't spoken a word since dekamikotization, that the pieces fall into place.