Harsh rain, soft skin

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This story idea was created while watching Pokémon season 1 episode 11

Dark clouds fog over the sky, swallowing every star and every light on its way. The sky changes into a black pool swirling around the deserted city.

Every person has ran inside once the heavy rain started coming down, hitting the pavement with an incredible force. Except one boy.

He roams around the dark streets with no specific place to head to, fixing the strap of his backpack and keeping his head down. Rain trickles down his neck slipping underneath his shirt, soaking every piece of clothing.

He isn't lost nor is he on the run. He just wanted to get out, think and maybe finally come up with something.

Jeon Jungkook, 20 years old, is a novel writer but lately his inspiration has spiraled downwards. His editor bugs him half of the time. His deadline is next week and he has barely written 10 000 words. He wonders what his characters would think of him.

He writes about heroes, unique characters while he is the exact opposite. He feels like disappearing into the crowd, if there was any at this time of the night and with this weather.

His black outfit has turned even more darker due the rain and he contemplates going home again. This storm isn't helping his creativity, let alone help his thoughts.

His writer block grew into a small extensional crisis, letting his anxiety get the best of him. Is he going to make it as a writer? There are millions of authors out there, writing better and more original stories than him. Is his dream hopeless? Is his literate talent nothing but a made up illusion?

A small cry wakes him up, tearing his gaze away from the pavement. He looks around but there's nothing in sight except the pouring rain hitting the dark streets. He sighs, rubbing his head and continues his way. Another sob freezes him again and this time he takes out his phone to light the way. He notices a lump lying on the ground some meters away from him. He carefully walks to the figure.

A boy lies on the pavement with a small blanket wrapped around him. His pink hair sticks to his face and his tail is wrapped tightly around himself. Jungkook takes a step back, observing the hybrid in front of him.

He has never seen one in real life. They normally don't live in these parts of town. Only high class people can afford a hybrid because it's expensive to have one. But this hybrid seems abandoned, a familiar signature stitched in the blanket.

He belongs, or belonged, to the famous Kim companies. Jungkook frowns and crouches down, placing a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. The hybrid jerks away from the touch and cries even louder.

"D-Don't touch me", he snaps, "Only master can".

"Where is your master?", Jungkook asks him and sees the boy avert his gaze.

"Master told me to wait here for him", the boy replies, "So I wait"

"I don't think he'll be coming back", Jungkook admits but the boy shakes his head.

"He promised! He'll come back!"

Jungkook frowns, seeing how much the boy is shivering.

"You'll catch a cold like that", he tugs at the boy's wet shirt.

The boy flinches away and rests his head back against the cold pavement mumbling a soft, "Master will come". His black ears rest against the pink wet hair and he closes his eyes, snuggling into the small blanket.

Jungkook gets back up sighing, looking down at the smaller boy.

I'm not going to leave him here. He'll get sick and die if his master doesn't come, which I'm pretty sure he won't.

Jungkook slips his hands underneath the boy's trembling body and picks him up, holding him in his arms. The hybrid struggles against his grip but he's weak and cold and gives up after a few stomps and kicks.

He snuggles against the strong arms and wraps his tail around Jungkook's bicep. The black haired boy bites back his smile and carries the boy to his place.

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