Inika sat in her chair and stared at the wall and wondered why she was still alive. It wasn’t something that was intuitively obvious. She had taken such a beating from life that she wasn’t sure how she got back up again the next day and the next day and the next day. So many insults and injuries piled up one on another that the weight grew too great to carry and she ended up back here, sitting in her chair and staring at the wall and thinking about death. It was a fond thought, death. Like an old friend. She got tired of sitting, felt agitated, so she stood up and started pacing. Her apartment was not a large one - studio, one small bathroom, one corner dedicated to a kitchenette - and she knew it intimately. Seven long steps, turn. Seven steps, turn. Thoughts whirled through her mind as she walked. Most of them weren’t pretty or gentle or nice. They were things like I deserve this and My parents were right and I should just end it all now. The apartment was dark, lit only by the reflected streetlights from outside. Dark spaces for dark thoughts. She giggled. It came out harsh and jagged, and cut off like flicking a switch. Seven steps, turn. Her fingers twitched. Seven steps, turn. She started humming, tuneless and discordant. Seven steps, turn. Moving faster now. Running, almost, but running from herself never worked. She whimpered. Seven steps, turn. Why was she like this? What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just be okay? Seven steps, turn. She remembered that she had medicine that she could overdose on - she’d looked up the toxicity information and she had plenty. Seven steps, turn. It would all be so simple. Seven steps - Her phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. She jumped, her tail fluffed out behind her, stared at it like it might bite her. Hesitantly reached out and picked it up. It was Mica. She hesitated for a long moment, feeling like she was balanced on a precipice. Then she answered. “Hey,” the cat said. “Sorry for calling so late. I just finished with this really pushy client.” “It’s no trouble,” Inika said automatically. The squirrel’s voice was flat, blank. “Thanks. Anyway, I was just wondering if you wanted to, I don’t know, come over and chill?” Did she? Inika wasn’t sure. But. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do. Death could wait a few hours. “Sure,” she said. “Give me a bit to walk over.” The seamstress’s shop was quiet at this hour. The lights were off downstairs, the door locked. The garments in the windows hung loose. Inika was wearing something that Mica had made for her. Black leggings, designed to accommodate her tail. Black short-sleeved tunic. Black and red vest. All of it had the bare minimum amount of decoration that Mica could bear to put on. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry. She didn’t much like overtly feminine clothing. It didn’t suit her. It was a good night for black. She unlocked the door with her key, went inside. Her footsteps seemed very loud in the silence of the shop. She locked it again behind herself and went back into the employees-only area in silence. Once there, she slowly climbed the stairs to Mica’s apartment. She reached the front door and knocked. After a long moment, Mica opened the door with a smile. The cat was wearing a loose green dress that complimented her emerald eyes wonderfully. It said something for how comfortable Inika was with Mica that she noticed that first instead of the mushrooms. There were dozens of fungi, growing out of Mica’s fur. One side of her face was more fungus than fur. Mushrooms poked out of her fur down her arm on the other side. Inika knew from personal experience that there were plenty more of the fungal growths hidden under the dress. At first she’d found the sight strange, even disgusting at times, but now she was if anything rather fond of them. “Heya Zipper,” Mica said. Inika wasn’t sure quite why Mica had given her that pet name, but she liked it. It felt...clean. “Hey,” the squirrel said, spreading her arms. Mica took the invitation, wrapping her in a warm embrace, and Inika melted against her. She leaned on her lover, resting her head on the cat’s shoulder, tucked in against her. She brushed against the mushrooms in the process, and smiled at the familiar twitch. She’d been told that the fungal growths were extremely sensitive to the touch - in a good way, usually. Mica ushered her inside, sat her down on the green loveseat - the only spot of color in the room, as furniture went, with everything else being black and steel and glass. Mica subscribed heavily to a modernist aesthetic in her furnishings. They sat down, side by side there in the dim light of the lamp, and they rested against each other. Inika fiddled with her clothes. Her fur. She wasn’t sure why she’d come over tonight. She should have just taken the pills. “You seem a little, I don’t know, agitated,” Mica said. “Is everything all right, hon?” “I’m fine,” Inika said, a reflex. Mica reached over and gently tweaked Inika’s ear. “Really? Then why do you sound like your friend just died?” Inika hesitated, but not for long. She and Mica had known each other for months. The cat wouldn’t do anything bad. She was safe. She had to be safe. So Inika opened her mouth, and words spilled out. She talked about her depression. About how she heard her parents’ voices echoing in her mind, tearing down everything she built of herself, mocking and degrading. About how she spent most nights lately staring into space and wondering why she was here. About how she’d been considering suicide more seriously lately, and it was seeming tempting. Even about how she couldn’t really believe that Mica cared about her, and she kept finding herself thinking about how it was all some sort of cruel joke. It was mostly stuff that they’d talked about before. But Mica listened to it all patiently, her hand resting gently on Inika’s thigh, occasionally commenting or asking for clarification. And when she finished, when the gush of words fell silent and Inika had nothing more to say, her lover had a thoughtful expression on her face. “You remember what I said about my...condition?” she asked. “How I picked up these mushrooms when I went down into the cave, and I was ready to end it all?” “And it helped you deal with your depression,” Inika said, nodding. Mica smiled. “Yeah. Well. We were wondering...if you like...whether maybe you could get some help the same way.” Inika stared. It was...something she’d considered, of course it was, but she’d never brought it up or considered it as a serious possibility. Now that she did...well. It was risky, and she knew there would be consequences for such a thing. She barely noticed Mica’s growths anymore, but she’d seen how other people looked at her lover. The stares. The judgment. “I don’t think I can go that deep into the cave,” she said, buying time. “It’s not easy to navigate under the city….” “No, no,” Mica said. “I mean, like, from my colony. Kind of like, I dunno, a donor organ. Or a blood transfusion.” She hesitated again. There were so many reasons to say no. This was disturbing to even contemplate. She couldn’t really - Nothing good ever happened to people who didn’t take risks. “I’d like that very much,” she said. Mica smiled. Her teeth were very pale against her fungus-speckled gums. “When do you want to start?” “Now.” - Inika was lying on her back on the futon. Mica was standing over her, naked. It was a familiar scene, but a very different context. Inika was breathing hard. She licked her lips, a familiar heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t believe she was really doing this. “It’ll hurt a little when the hyphae colonize you,” Mica was saying, her voice soft. One hand stroked Inika’s fur, a gentle touch, caring. “Well, okay, more than a little. But the pain will get lighter after a few minutes, and within a week or two it should be gone.” Inika nodded, not trusting her voice not to waver. She smiled, shaky but honest. “You’ll pass out during the initial colonization,” Mica said soothingly. “When you wake up, the hyphae will be in you. They’ll finish spreading and colonizing you within a couple hours. You’ll start hearing it about that time. If your colony is anything like mine, and we think it will be, it will be supportive and encouraging. Like a guardian angel inside your head.” “That sounds so nice,” Inika said. Her voice wavered, but only a little. “It is! Now, once the fungus is in you,” Mica said, “the pain will be lighter. The growths will be very sensitive to the touch - it takes some getting used to. You’ll notice some synesthesia. Don’t tear the growths out, or cut them - it won’t damage the hyphae, but it will hurt a lot. You’ll have to go to a specific doctor that I know who knows how to handle the colony. You’ll have to eat more, and drink more water, because you’ll be sustaining the hyphae and the growths as well as yourself. You’ll notice yourself healing faster.” Inika nodded. again. “All right,” Mica said. “That’s, uh, that’s all my advice from experience. You sure you want to do this?” “Absolutely,” Inika said, and her voice didn’t shake at all this time. Mica nodded. “You ready?” “Yes.” “All right. Love you, Zipper. Remember, I’ll be here for you when you wake up.” Mica smiled and picked up the knife. “Is this the only way you can do this?” Inika asked. She hated the idea of seeing Mica hurt herself for her sake. “‘Fraid so, Zipper.” She smiled again. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to do this for you.” She took a deep breath, bracing herself, and then set the knife against her arm, and started cutting. It was a quick process, cutting out one of the growths. There was relatively little blood - mostly she was cutting into fungus. She cut around the fungus and then pulled on the growth, gasping sharply in pain. When she pulled the growth loose, it was larger than it had seemed - it had extended under the skin. There were root-like filaments extending from it. Hyphae. Inika took a deep breath, closed her eyes. “Do it.” Mica set the fungal growth on her cheek, against her fur. For a moment, she didn’t feel anything. Then the hyphae started moving. Gliding through her fur. She shivered. Reflexively, she tried to reach up and scratch the tickling where the hyphae were moving through her fur. Tried being the operative word, of course. She was cuffed down, Mica having said that she would need the cuffs not to react violently when the colonization started. That hadn’t been terribly reassuring. The filaments reached her skin. She shivered at the touch, feather light. Then they started burrowing in. She gasped as they broke the skin, digging into her, extending under the skin. She could feel them moving inside her face, where no such thing should be. Her skin rippled from the pressure being applied from under it. She gasped again. It hurt, like a dozen tiny needles, but more than that it felt alien. Foreign. Then they started burrowing deeper, and the pain grew and grew. It was burning, piercing, agonizing pain, like an injection but far more intense. It spread through her face. She lost track of time. She was screaming, thrashing against the cuffs. The pain grew and grew. She’d never felt this kind of agony. She’d never even imagined it. It felt like her nerves were on fire. Like acid burns under the skin. Her muscles moved in ways that they shouldn’t move, pulling strangely against the tendons. She kept screaming. This couldn’t be right. Something had gone wrong. She was going to die like this. She’d lost track of time. It felt like she’d been there for hours as the pain kept growing and growing. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t see. There was only the pain. But she never stopped feeling Mica’s hand holding her own. The world faded to black. - Waking up was a slow process. She became aware of touch first - the pressure of the bed against her back, and Mica’s hand holding hers. Then came sound, as she heard Mica breathing, slow and steady. Then pain, but nothing like the soul-destroying agony of colonization. Just a low, steady ache through her body, strongest on her face but present all through her, a sore throat from the screaming, and an occasional twinge. Then came vision. She opened her eyes, and saw Mica. The cat’s fur gleamed in the lamplight. Her eyes were an emerald more vivid than anything Inika had ever seen. She was sitting next to Inika, like she hadn’t moved at all, one hand folded around the squirrel’s. Her tail twitched occasionally. She was so beautiful. “You awake?” Mica said. A ripple of color went across Inika’s vision at the sound, bright green color that she somehow knew was one and the same as the sound. The synesthesia her lover had mentioned. Inika tried to speak, but all that came out was a croaking sound. She’d screamed herself hoarse. She coughed painfully. “Here,” Mica said. She gently held a cup to Inika’s moth, helping her drink. It was cold tea, sweetened with honey and tasting of lemon. Soothing. Just what her throat needed. “I’m awake,” Inika said. “God, that hurt.” Mica nodded. “I know, Zipper,” she said softly. “Trust me.” Inika smiled a little. The motion felt strange, pulling against the fungus. And then she heard it. A voice in her head that was one part words, and one part raw emotional thought-forms. It’s nice to meet you, it said. It had an overtone of caring, happiness, trepidation. Funny, to think that the symbiote was also feeling trepidation, but she supposed it was natural. She was its world, now. She looked up at Mica, and she felt the fungus inside her, and she knew she would never be alone again. - She stayed in Mica’s apartment for the next two days as the colonization process finished, with Mica acting as her nurse. They closed the shop for the duration, citing an illness. In a way, Inika supposed, that was true. In another way, she was healthier than she’d ever been. Finally, two days later, she was strong enough to move on her own without pain. The general ache had subsided until it was no worse than a mild flu. She was keeping down food, her throat was back to normal, and she was walking normally. She spent most of those two days getting to know her new colony. It was...well, it was a lot like Mica, which probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise. She was getting along great with it. It was like a best friend, a confidante, and a supportive parent all at once. She’d expected it to be ignorant of society, or perhaps innocent was the better word. But in fact it was actually quite informed. It knew everything that its parent colony had, and its parent colony had years of exposure through Mica. It processed what she saw, heard, thought, everything. There was no privacy, but to her surprise she was finding she didn’t really want any. The symbiote was just a quiet presence in the back of her mind when they weren’t actually talking. When they were, it was a soft, gentle blend of thoughts and emotions. It was a very good listener, and she poured so many things out to it that she could never have shared with another person. Confessions, insecurities, the deep, dark recesses of her mind, she shared it all, poured it out to her colony. It was supportive, gentle, encouraging. It had a perspective that no friend or therapist ever could, because she knew that it really knew what she meant, what she was feeling. Of course it did - it was getting the raw feelings, unmediated by language. After two days, she was already feeling so much better that the idea of suicide was a strange and horrifying one. Not to mention that she had a very, very real incentive not to die, now. If she died, the colony - already her best friend after Mica - would die with her. She didn’t want her friend to die. - Inika woke the third day to find Mica cuddled up beside her on the futon, but awake. “Hey there, Zipper,” the cat said with an infectious grin. “How are you feeling?” “Good!” Inika replied. She stretched experimentally, and found the ache nearly gone. Her throat felt fine. She was...happy. “I feel amazing, Mica, thank you so much.” “Aw, I’m glad. Now, do you want to see your new looks?” Inika nodded eagerly. Mica had been keeping her from getting a really good look at herself since the colonization - the mirrors were covered, and while she could see some of herself without one, she couldn’t see what she looked like to someone else. They went to the bathroom, Inika not needing help walking anymore, and turned on the light, and Mica dramatically whisked the cloth off of the mirror. Inika barely recognized her reflection in the mirror. She had shelf fungus growing out of her forehead and down the left side of her face, her eye peering out from beneath ridges of mushroom caps. There were growths dotting her fur across her chest, down the outsides of her arms, speckling the backs of her hands. Her breasts had fungus on them. Stalks poked out along her bushy tail. She smiled and saw tiny mushrooms dotting her gums, the underside of her tongue. “What do you think?” Mica asked. “I'm not sure,” Inika said honestly, staring into the mirror. “What do you think?” “I think you’re beautiful,” Mica said, and for once, Inika could believe it. “That’s good enough for me, then.” Inika hesitated, then said, very tentatively, “Your growths are sensitive…” Inika saw Mica step up behind her, leering over her shoulder. “That almost sounded like a come-on,” she said, her voice soft. “It seems a shame not to try them out,” Inika said, trailing off again. Mica reached up, slowly, and wrapped an arm around Inika. Her hand ended up resting on the squirrel’s breast, rubbing and squeezing, and gently stroking the fungus there. Inika gasped as the feeling seemed magnified, colors whirling across her vision with a burst of music. It felt like she had far more nerve endings than ever before, and her breasts had always been sensitive. That one touch, gentle and smooth, had her hot and bothered, leaning back against her lover to feel her better. Mica smiled knowingly. “I think the squeaker likes that,” she said, low and husky. “Shall we try the others?” “Yes,” Inika said. “Yes, what?” “Yes, ma’am,” Inika said. “Please….” “Well, since you asked nicely,” Mica said, teasingly, stepping back, drawing Inika out of the bathroom with her. The two walked backward to the futon, where Mica spun her around and swept her leg so that she fell onto her back on the futon. The cat was on her in a moment, straddling her, kissing her. Her tongue pressed into Inika’s mouth demandingly, licking at her, gliding over the growths in her mouth. It felt...heavenly, was all she could think. A soothing, warm feeling that slowly started spreading through her. The taste of mushroom was in her mouth, dark and rich. Mica broke it off after a long moment, and both of them were breathing harder as the cat dragged herself away. She started running her hands down Inika’s naked body, stroking the growths and massaging the skin. Every touch seemed magnified ten times over, warmth and need spreading through Inika, filling her with the wild desire to sate herself in her lover’s warm embrace. But Mica didn’t stop. Even as Inika was going wild, thrashing and moaning under her, she didn’t stop. She kept stroking and rubbing and licking the squirrel, stoking that hot need higher and higher. She wrapped a limb around Mica’s hip, and the cat made a displeased harrumphing sound, pulling back a bit. Inika whimpered at the loss of touch, but moments later, she felt the familiar, comforting pressure of a cuff being fastened around her ankle. Seconds later it was clipped to the futon frame, followed by her other ankle. Wrists were next, pulled up over her head and apart to leave her spread eagled with legs wide apart. She was simply but quite effectively restrained, and when she pulled against the cuffs to be sure, there was no give. She smiled. Mica went back to rubbing against her, but now Inika was helpless to do anything but buck and pull against the cuffs. She was completely at her lover’s mercy, and she would find release only if and when the cat chose. She rubbed the whole length of her body against Inika, fingers gliding over one newly-sensitive area after another, gently stroking the growths protruding from her skin. The squirrel gasped and panted, going mad with desire, until finally the cat slid down her and settled in between her legs. “Aw, look at this,” she said, dipping a finger into Inika’s pussy and pulling it out damp. “Someone’s excited!” “PLease,” Inika whimpered. “Please….” “Anything for you,” Mica said, and slid her finger back in, and started working. Her finger pumped and writhed inside Inika, teasing at first, but soon moving on to rubbing against Inika’s favorite places. Immediately, the sciurid was moaning, thick and needy and shameless. That, too, was more sensitive, and she was going crazy at the touch, the pressure, the passion with which Mica was touching her. the warm comforting feeling inside her mind. Her hips were bucking wildly, and she was panting for breath. Mica slid a second finger in, spreading her apart, stroking and gliding over the walls of Inika’s pussy, touching all her favorite spots, the most sensitive places that were now even more so. Inika whimpered and moaned. “Please,” she said. “Please….” “Please what, Zipper?” Mica said playfully. “Please stop?” She started to slide her fingers back out. “Please let me come!” Inika shouted, desperate, hungry, bucking almost violently. “I don’t know,” Mica said thoughtfully. “What’s in it for me, exactly?” “I’ll do anything,” the squirrel whimpered. “Please…” “Aw, I just can’t say no to you,” Mica said, tone playful once again. She drove both fingers back in, deeper than before, and started pumping them vigorously while her thumb went to work on Inika’s clit. It was only moments before Inika was coming, spurting and gushing cum, her eyes rolling back into her head. She didn’t need to see. She didn’t need to hear. She only needed this, this moment, bound and ecstatic with her lover pushing her gleefully over the edge, and on, and on. When she finally finished, when her bucking stilled and her eyes blinked and went back to normal, Mica pulled her fingers back out and slid them into Inika’s mouth. She licked her own juices off them, tasting the dark and slightly bitter flavor, and smiled. She was still breathing hard. “You want to have some fun?” she asked, breathing hard. “In a few minutes,” Mica said, settling in beside Inika and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You want out of the restraints?” “Maybe in a bit. I’m good just like this for now.” “All right. Love you, Zipper.” “Love you too.” Inika let her eyes drift closed, and rested against Mica’s chest, and she felt...peaceful.