The Biting Habit(Togachako)

The tension inside the car is thick enough to crush a building. You sit in the cramped back seat of the family SUV, staring fixedly down at your hooves as the gray concrete of the highway blurs past the window. Right beside you in his car seat is your baby brother, Moxie. He is aggressively sucking on his pink pacifier, his big, moon-like brown eyes darting between you and the front seat, his stubby little heart-tail twitching nervously against his mint-green onesie.

Up front, your parents are completely silent, their usual bright wool bristling with absolute frustration. The only sound is the rhythmic, aggressive click of the turn signal as Ochako steers the car sharply into the left lane, her pink paw pads squeezing the leather steering wheel tightly enough to leave indentations.

You got into deep trouble today. Again. The school called an emergency parent-teacher conference after you bit another classmate during recess. It wasn't just a small, playful nip either; you bit down hard, leaving deep teeth marks that broke the skin. What made it worse was that baby Moxie was right there in the school daycare line, wide-eyed, immediately trying to copy your aggressive growl with a tiny, gummy babbled squeak.

As a genetic mix of your two mothers, you inherited a confusing cocktail of traits. You have a beautiful blend of Ochako’s bouncy chocolate wool, Himiko’s messy pink fluff, and Moxie's vanilla-white swirls. When you get overwhelmed, those halves crash into each other. You simply couldn't control the sudden, overwhelming surge of frustration when they snatched your toy away. Unlike Himiko, who spent years learning how to regulate her intense emotions and safely channel her instinctual need to bite into designated chew-toys, you haven't mastered that block yet. When your feelings boil over, your gravity traits make you feel lightheaded, your tiny bat-like micro-wings flutter frantically on your back, and your default animal instinct is to sink your fangs in.

Ochako glances at you in the rearview mirror, her floppy, velvety ears drooped low in sheer disappointment, her brown eyes completely devoid of their usual warm, bubbly sparkle.

Ochako: "I just don't understand," she says, her voice tight, strained, and visibly vibrating with a protective, furious maternal anger. "We talked about this last Tuesday. And the month before that. You can't just attack people when you get upset! You have your mother's teeth, yes, but you have my heart, and we do not use our bodies to hurt others. The principal said the other kid might need stitches, honey. Stitches! And right in front of your baby brother! Moxie is already trying to copy everything you do!"

Hearing his name, Moxie lets out a soft, nervous "Baaah!", spitting out his pacifier

Ochako lets out a heavy, frustrated sigh, rubbing her temple with one hoof, accidentally making her own steering wheel float for a split second before she cancels the touch, snaps Moxie's crayon back down to earth, and grips the wheel firmly again.

Beside her in the passenger seat, Himiko is leaning against the door, staring straight ahead. Her tattered red sailor scarf is askew, and her slender, pointy black heart-tail is twitching with irritation against the fabric of the seat. She isn't smiling her usual wide, chaotic smile. Her oversized yellow eyes are narrowed into sharp slits, and her arms are crossed tightly over her oversized, cream-colored school cardigan. Hearing Ochako speak makes Himiko finally turn her head around, her messy pink hair buns shifting as she looks at you in the back seat. Her expression is a painful mix of deep guilt, disappointment, and intense frustration.

Himiko: "Fangs, you know better," Himiko says, her voice drop-dead serious, stripped of all her usual playful, bouncy energy. "You get that urge from me, yeah. I get it better than anyone. The world gets too loud, too intense, your blood starts pumping, and you want to snap, you want to let all that pressure out of your chest. But I learned to stop. I learned to breathe for the sake of this family. You aren't even trying to use the rubber chew-toys we bought you, and now you're setting a terrible example for Moxie. Look at him! He's terrified, and he's going to think biting is how we handle problems."

She leans closer over the center console, her glossy jet-black devil horns catching the sunlight as her gaze locks onto yours. Moxie shrinks back into his mint-green onesie, his tiny black horn nubs quivering as he watches Himiko's serious face.

Himiko: "Biting someone because they made you mad is sloppy. It's dangerous. You're a predator and a hero's kid all at once, which means you have to be twice as careful. And right now, your principal is talking about a full suspension."

Ochako takes a sharp right turn, pulling into the school parking lot. The little space-themed cosmic leg warmers on her hooves click against the pedals as she slams the car into the park and cuts the engine. The sudden silence inside the vehicle feels incredibly heavy, suffocating the small space. Both of them turn around completely in their front seats to face you before anyone dares to open a door. Moxie lets out a tiny, whimpering whine, reaching his small vanilla-swirled hooves out toward you for comfort.

Ochako: "We are going inside, we are going to look that family in the eye, we are going to apologize to the principal, and you are going to sit there and listen to the consequences of your actions," Ochako says firmly, her cheerful cheerleader persona completely replaced by a stern, unyielding mother. "And when we get home, you are grounded until further notice. No games, no TV, no playing in the yard. Nothing. Himiko will watch Moxie in the lobby while you and I go into the office."

Himiko sighs, her sharp canine teeth catching her lower lip as her slender tort stops twitching and slumps down, glinting red at the tip as she glares at you.

Himiko: "Don't look at us with those big, watery yellow eyes, kiddo. Don't try to beg your way out of trouble either. You earned this one. Moxie, give me your binky. Fangs... adjust your cardigan, pull your ears up, and get out of the car."