#I felt like doing one of those “experiment gone wrong” thingies Len'en writers sometimes do

[maideninorange]

"What are we?" "Human, at least I hope we still are."

For TsubaKuro obviously

Me? In a horror mood? Why never ever! Now with more mad science shit!

(TW: Graphic Descriptions of Injuries (Bone Malalignment), Body/Transformation Horror, Past Human Experimentation (Well, Youkai Experimentation, but the sentiment still applies))

The flicker of busted ceiling lights was the hazy sight that greeted Kuroji when consciousness began trickling back to them.

What... happened...? Was the first clear thought that came to their slushy mind. The rest were vague ideas and shards of memories without any sort of coherency. It was like they, the person and the body they inhabit, had turned to mush.

Kuroji hears someone groan. It takes a moment for them to realize that someone was actually Kuroji themself, their tongue lolling out of their mouth like a gaping moron.

It took them another moment to realize they were leaning against some kind of flat surface. Well, lean wasn't exactly the right word. Their mind was too foggy to think of the proper word for being bent into a right angle against said flat surface, so "lean" will have to do.

Another groan forces itself from their lips. Slowly, sensation starts to return to their body. It starts from their jaw and throat, then spreads down to their chest and up to the rest of their head. Their fingers twitch as feeling overflows through them again, the splinters of corroded wood still slightly chilled from...from...

...What caused this? It's all coming back to them now...

They had agreed to help with some kind of...experiment? Study? ...Yes, experiment. They remember being asked to bring someone here...Wherever here is again...For...Some kind of extraction? Of what? The answer floats away from them the moment they reach out to touch it.

Kuroji raises a trembling hand up to their temple, massaging it. Come on...Work stupid brain...

Some kind of explosion occurred. The last thing they vividly remember is the wide-eyed expression on...

...Tsubakura? Oh shit, Tsubakura!

"Tsu...Tsubakura?" They croak out, bleary eyes scanning their filmy surroundings for any sign of the monochrome figure or their top hat, "Are you...Are you here?"

A moment of silence passes. Kuroji is almost convince that Tsubakura is either still unconscious, isn't in the room at all, or...No, they wouldn't perish from this, would they?!

But then, they hear it. A loud cough somewhere across the room, followed by the sound of debris being shuffled about. A small smile forms at the corners of their mouth, all the tension suddenly seizing their body at their earlier fears draining away in an instant.

"Ugh...Yeah...Still alive. I take it...you made it too?"

"...What do you...think...?" Their voice sounded hoarse, parched and sore, like they needed a glass of water. They probably did, if they were out for a long while like they suspect.

"Good... I'd miss your stupid face if you did die from that."

Kuroji can just hear the wry grin they are making in their direction. Their heart skips a beat at what they were implying, but they pay it no heed. They didn't want to think about that when they were barely conscious as is.

"Shut up..." They shake their head gently (more to be mindful of it than to communicate properly), "What...happened...?"

"You mean you don't remember?"

"I do...Details are just...more than a little fuzzy..." Kuroji blinks rapidly, trying to clear their vision. And maybe, just maybe, find the strength to stand.

A groan, "You're no fun...Why can't you be like Yabusame and bounce back from a small explosion or two?"

"Because...I'm not Yabusame-kun? What kind of question...is that?" They try to roll their eyes. This is probably why they're never asked to help out during experiments. They ask too many questions, and can't take as much punishment.

Hell, Kuroji is pretty sure the only reason they got asked to be their assistant for this one was because they were the only one who could reliably catch Saragimaru!

Wait...

...Ah.

If Kuroji wasn't awake before, they were now. Their vision clears away to blinding lights, breath coming in short gasps. Everything was coming back to them now. And with it a very important question.

"Saragimaru...Where is Saragimaru?!"

"Gone, it seems. Must've busted out of their restraints after knocking that vial over," A sigh, followed by more shuffling of debris, "Ugh, inhaling so much pure mana could not have been good. Must've caused that explosion when it touched the bunsen burner too..."

Kuroji swallows hard. So that's what Tsubakura wanted Saragimaru for, huh? They long learned the hard way that you shouldn't mess with magic, but it seems they never got that message, now did they?

And considering how... spectacular, to put it mildly, Tsubakura's failures in the lab typically are...

"You told me...This was a simple venom extraction...Not some kind of experiment with fucking magic!" Kuroji hisses.

"Duh! If I had, you wouldn't have let me get past Step 1. Maybe Step 2 if I was lucky."

Kuroji grits their teeth. They can just hear the half-hearted shrug they were making at them. It made them want to punch the smug grin they knew they were making right off their face.

If only everything wasn't so, so sore...

That's when a hand enters their line of sight. Their eyes naturally follow the hand up to the figure above them.

Sure enough, it was Tsubakura Enraku, only a little worse for the wear. Their hat was crooked and their clothes had more than a few tears, but that was nothing a good patch job couldn't fix. They weren't in fact smirking like Kuroji thought they would be, but only because their eyes were wandering over their body, lips pressed into a feigned neutral line.

"Geez...Can you even move?" They ask, brows drawing together, "You don't...look so good."

Ah, there was the bite. They had a feeling they must've been injured in the accident. Probably in the back or a leg given how much those ache. Kuroji shudders as they take Tsubakura's hand, "I can move my arms at least..."

"That's somethin'. Now here's the better question: Can you walk?"

"That's...A very good question," They admit.

"Well then let's find out. On a one...On a two..."

Kuroji doesn't even get time to prepare themself. Not that Tsubakura ever does anything on three. Two, if you were lucky, and this time is no different. The next thing they know, they were being peeled away from the operating table, and yanked to their feet.

...

...They should not be walking.

"...Agh!" Kuroji bites down on their lip to keep from screaming. All they could focus on was the blinding pain radiating from their leg, impossible to keep on the ground.

When they became aware of their surroundings once more, Tsubakura had slung their arm around their neck, keeping them upright.

"Guess not..."

They help lift Kuroji onto the operating table. The restraints used to tie Saragimaru down were now mere ribbons of leather, some of which are scattered across the whole lab. The whole table is drenched in rainwater mixed with blood (that was probably Kuroji's from earlier). Whatever happened after their slave got loose, they did a damn good job destroying the lab, without ever even lifting a finger to harm either of them.

Which is, quite frankly, rather odd considering how much that snake likes to talk about their future slow, agonizing death. But the stressed look on Tsubakura's face brought them out of their intrusive worries and into their present ones.

Kuroji lays down without much of a fuss. Though they couldn't help themself when they ask, "What? Not gonna bring me back to your room for a...more further examination, as you typically call it?"

A snort escaped Tsubakura's throat, their tongue sticking out, "Oh hah hah. You must think yourself clever for throwing my words back in my face."

They shrug, "Perhaps a little. Like I could ever best you in that department, but I ought to take a little victory every once in a while, yes?"

"...I guess. Although it's kinda hard to take you back to my room with the number your stupid snake did to my lab entrance. So we're sitting ducks until Yabusame or Sensei can dig us out! ...Just to answer your question."

Their smirk doesn't reach their eyes. Kuroji lets their head fall back, letting out a deep breath they didn't realize they had took, "...How bad is it, Dr. Enraku?"

(They won't call them "Doc" like Hoojiro had. This smug ass who bewitched their sister does not deserve that informality, even now. Not that they ever, ever notice...)

"Well let's see..."

Tsubakura gets to work almost immediately. They start by grabbing their injured leg and feeling it up. Kuroji closes their eyes tightly, bracing for when they find the fracture.

"Hm...Mm?"

...The strike of agony never leaves its mark. Kuroji cracks open one eye, catching a glimpse of Tsubakura's pinched expression, a raised eyebrow the only hint as to its cause.

"...Well, you apparently don't have a fracture somehow. In fact, your leg would probably be working just fine if not for the impossible angle and the swelling."

...Huh? "How...?"

"I dunno," Tsubakura lets go of their leg, much to Kuroji's relief, "You have more symptoms of a broken bone healing wrong than an actual broken bone. Hence my confusion."

...That makes literally no sense, even by the madness of this lab's standards. Kuroji couldn't have been out for more than a day at most, and their leg was working just fine when they first came down here. So how could they have such an injury?

"Did you develop some kind of accelerated healing factor or something?" Tsubakura jokes, a wry grin plastering itself on their face, "Cause the only explanation I can think of is 'you broke your leg in the initial chaos and it healed itself wrong while you were out."

"No!" They shout. Then, the fight drains from their body as they stare up blankly at the ceiling, "At least...I don't think I have..."

But now that they had proposed the idea, it made a disturbing amount of sense. After all, now that they are really thinking about it, they didn't have a single scratch on their body besides the leg.

Neither did Tsubakura, for that matter. In fact, Kuroji swears they can see patches of scales on their hand, collar, face...

Kuroji must've made a face or something, because Tsubakura's eyes have widened, their delicate, tactile hands having turned to tight fists. (And were those claws where fingernails normally are?)

"Alright Kuroji, what's with the face? You don't just pale at anything, so what's wrong?"

They were...pale? They went pale? They were usually much better at hiding their more... cumbersome feelings, especially under Tsubakura's hawkish eyes. But they couldn't help it for this. Not when...When...

No...There's no way...

"...Forgive me for this. I just need to test a theory."

"Huh? What do you mean by-" And that's all they manage to get out before Kuroji's hand claws at their arm. Or at least tries to. Fatigue infecting every inch of their body meant only a couple red slashes were formed, but it was more than enough.

"Ngh!" Tsubakura staggers back, clutching their arm, "What the hell was that for?!"

"Testing a theory, like I said I was." Kuroji shakes their head, jaw hurting from how hard they were clenching it, "Watch."

Tsubakura yanks their sleeve down, revealing the red welds from Kuroji's "attack" once again, "What the hell could ever require you to-"

Their grumbling abruptly stops. Now they too are making a wide-eyed expression.

They both watch as the welds shrink, folding away, until all of it has faded back into Tsubakura's normal skin tone, good as new. Well that just proves it then, huh?

Kuroji's breath hitches, "Ah...I knew it. Thanks for being my willing test subject..."

They couldn't even snicker at Tsubakura's irritated snort. They were too busy wishing the operating table would fold in on them.

For if Tsubakura had the same accelerated healing factor they seem to have, and they were quickly...They don't even know at this point, then...

Then what did it mean for Kuroji themself?

Kuroji drags their hands up in front of their face. They look like their hands: normal human hands, with all the same old scars from countless injuries as they invent or dig. But then they notice how their fingernails are tipped, ever so slightly sharp. Hiding razor sharp talons, no doubt.

Just like Tsubakura's.

"...What are we?!" Kuroji asks with no recipient in mind, voice warbling from near hysteria. They knew the answer, but at least a question can be answered with a comforting lie, unlike the blanket statement their mind wanted them to confront.

"Human. At least I hope we still are..." Tsubakura replies, the waver in their voice uncomfortably noticeable. Never have they ever wanted them to be right about anything as hard as right now.

And yet, as they watch Tsubakura itch at their collar, the flaking off of skin to reveal similarly colored scales was going out of its way to prove them wrong. They look at the patch, then their nails, and all the certainty leaves their voice as they mumble a quiet, "Shit..."

If Tsubakura's pale expression was the expression they had pointed out Kuroji had, then that isn't a good sign at all. And to make matters worse, as if watching them do it triggered something inside them, various spots on their arm began to itch like mad, begging them to scratch at them.

They didn't want to, and yet their hand moves automatically to perform the motion. And sure enough, flakes of skins fell away to reveal scales of their own. Kuroji kept scratching at the scales, praying for it to all be a cruel prank, and found only pain and blood for their efforts.

And not even that lingered for longer than a moment. It was enough to drive even a hardened scoundrel like Kuroji Shitodo to tears.

"...What have you done?!"

"I dunno...Heh heh..." Tsubakura pants, their legs shaking. They rub their back, tears forming in their eyes, "I...probably shouldn't have done this...All of this...Should I?

"What...Do you think?" Kuroji huffs out, blinking back tears, "Whatever happens next, I want you to know this is all your fault. Even if you die."

Tsubakura reels back, as if slapped. It wasn't undeserved in the slightest. But even so, the pitiful way their figure seems to shamble back made a twinge of guilt stab Kuroji in the chest...

"Hah...I think...I'd deserve that...There's no coming back from this, is there?" They let out a light laugh, as if this was merely a prank gone awry. The scratching at their back becomes a full blown madness, a struggle to take off their vest and shirt even, "My back...Hurts like hell..."

And then, like someone had flipped their killswitch, Tsubakura falls backwards into an overturned table behind them. Kuroji doesn't have the energy to raise their head up to see, but from the sudden tearing and scratching at the ground, they didn't think they wanted to see what caused that.

And when that morphed into screams and muscles tearing, they knew they definitely didn't want to see.

It's so funny...They think to themself as a throbbing started in their backside, I wanted to see Tsubakura scream someday.

But not like this. Never like this...

They wanted to take those last words full of venom back. Apologize even. But as the throbbing worsened and worsened into full blown burning, Kuroji's remorse left in favor of bracing for agony.

After all, this was only the beginning of a long, long transformation. Days of agony awaited both of them, no doubt.

They close their eyes, sobs echoing as their body prepares itself for its next phase. All they can do is sink into the biting metal of the operating table, and hope someone, anyone, manages to find them sooner rather than later.

And hopefully before both of them lose their minds.

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