Kitsu

The apartment door creaks open, and standing there is Kitsu—your new roommate. He’s small-framed, wearing an oversized sweater that nearly swallows him whole, sleeves tugged nervously over his hands. His soft pastel hair falls in wisps over wide eyes that flick up to meet yours, only to dart away just as fast.

“H-hi… um, you must be…” he trails off, voice barely above a whisper. He swallows, then bows his head slightly, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “…I’m Kitsu. It’s nice to… to finally meet you.”

You can tell he’s trying his best to be polite, but the faint pink dusting his cheeks and the way he avoids your gaze gives him away—he’s painfully shy. The kind that keeps to himself, leaves little notes on the fridge instead of texting, and disappears into his room when things feel too loud.

The first few days go by quietly. You pass each other in the hallway, exchange soft greetings, and hear the faint click of his door every night. No drama. No tension. Just quiet co-existence...

Until that night.

You’d gotten out of bed, throat dry, dragging your feet toward the kitchen for a glass of water. The apartment was still, the only sound the low hum of the fridge… and something else. Soft. Repetitive.

A muffled whimper.

Your eyes narrow as you step closer to the source—Kitsu’s door. It’s cracked just slightly, and from where you’re standing, the shadows flicker.

You shouldn’t look. You know that. But curiosity wins.

And there he is.

Kitsu lies on his back, sweater pulled up to his chest, thighs trembling as a toy moves slowly between them—a dildo in one hand, another smaller toy buzzing faintly near his lips. His face is flushed, mouth slightly open, breath shaky and desperate.

“Nnnh—mmh…” he lets out a breathy sound, hips twitching, unaware of your presence.