Chapter Text
Zed finds him on accident, on a park bench near his campus.
He isn't really looking for anyone or anything this day - just strolling around the park, wind in his face and sun all over the place. It's a good day, the weather taking a more pleasant turn, right when there aren't any classes on his schedule. The birds are chirping their butts off like it's the last nice day in the universe; the smell of damp leaves and marigolds wafts around. Zedaph is mellowing, only distracted sometimes by a coffee cup in his hand - a new place has opened nearby, and he's testing the menu. A "Double Maple Caramel" is, honestly, much nicer than he thought, and Zed doesn't rush, savoring the taste.
He takes another sip, glancing around at the fellow students passing by. Takes note of an especially fat squirrel sitting on the crossroads sign. And then notices a crow on top of a bench, clearly interested in something.
Zed thinks it might be a bug, or a piece of a hot dog or something, left by a previous visitor. Still, he stays to observe a little bit more. The crow doesn't pay any attention to him, turning its head one way and another. After a minute or so, it jumps down from the top of the bench and makes several steps around the seat, trying to peck whatever caught it's attention.
Then, Zed can see a movement on the bench. And, if he strains his ears -
No, it can't be real. His imagination is probably going wild.
Though, if it was him, he wouldn't phrase it like this -
- he can hear a squeak that's almost a high-pitched human voice, swearing out the bird just short of profanities.
Well, now the crow's got a competitor.
"Hey!" Zed calls out, loud enough that the bird stops in its tracks. "Shoo!" The crow flinches, but doesn't fly away, still eyeing the thing on a bench (or rather, between the bench planks, now that Zed is looking closer). He stomps, trying to look menacing - to the same effect. Zed sighs, glances at his hand holding a coffee cup, and brings it back, bracing for a throw.
He isn't gonna actually throw a half-full cup, but the bird doesn't have to know this.
As soon as he twitches forward, the crow takes off, a flurry of flapping wings. Zed releases his breath, and walks now leisurely to the bench, landing onto it. The seat looks empty now, like nothing was ever here; but for a moment, there's a movement at the other side of the planks. Zed sets his coffee down and waits, for a second, two, five, watching carefully, and then in a quick motion brings his hand under the bench, and cups it over.
Spot-on.
First thing he feels (right as he covers the top of the bench with another hand, in case it slips through the cracks) is pushing. Somewhat like a beetle, trying to bring his fingers apart, but with more intent and consciousness behind the motion. There are sounds, not unlike grunting, but it might as well be a small animal growl.
Then, it bites.
"Ow," Zedaph says, cause small bites are the worst, but at least it's not a squirrel. "I hope you're not rabid."
"And what if I am?" the voice comes from under his hand, and - oh. It takes a lot of restraint for Zed to not jerk away. "Now you're rabid, you big piece of trash!"
Zed tentatively clasps his hand tighter - the thing stops talking, emitting an indignant squeak - and pulls it off the bench, bringing it up and closer to his face.
It's... a little guy.
Yeah, Zed knows the definition is broad and he calls every second creature like this, but... it is. That's the best way he could say it. A little guy.
It looks, for the most part, like someone has shrunk a human. Really shrunk - the little guy is, like, ten centimeters tall. It still somehow got everything else - head and limbs with tiny fingers, some semblance of clothing, a little (very angry) face. It has a tail, though, a long ropey thing with a tuft, the same dirty gold colour as his hair - and with how the thing scowls at him, its teeth are visible, sharper than a regular human's.
Zed takes a moment to consider that modern science would call bullshit at this point.
"Hey," he says instead. "No bitey."
The little guy sputters, and isn't it funny considering its size.
"No b- Are you seri- Gah! Says someone who walks up to a guy just chilling and grabs him!" - and it's a he, good to know. Zed brings his other hand's finger up, and the thing stops rambling, instead breathing heavily and staring at him with utter disrespect.
"You weren't chilling, though. That bird was in the process of eating you," Zed states. The little guy blushes, looking much more embarrassed.
"I could've dealt with that."
"For this one time?"
"For. Forever. I'm fine."
"For your information, there's at least one cat living around the campus. And they're much better at getting little guys out of their holes."
"Urm."
The little guy looks away, even more rattled now. He doesn't struggle against Zed's hand anymore, too. Zed uses this as an opportunity, and gets a much gentler grip on the guy's coat with another hand. Reaches for his coffee, now that he's sure he won't drop or squish him. "I guess it's settled, then."
"Settled what?" the little guy squeaks, jerking his head with confusion. Zed finishes his coffee (just in time - the drink was getting cold). Sloshes the cup a bit, gathering the leftover foam and licking it off, and then tosses the little guy inside and closes the cap. A new wave of indignant sounds comes from inside, screaming and punching the walls - but it's not like there's a better way of transportation around, right?
"You're coming with me," Zed announces to the appalled-sounding container, and gets off the bench.
*
Zed is at his desk tormenting Google before he even remembers to take his coat off.
"Little guys", unsurprisingly, brings no results. "Little humans" doesn't help, either. He types in several different phrases, crawls through scientific articles and Reddit discussions, into the land of fantasy. Several works of fiction sound vaguely familiar, and Zed glances over the descriptions, then prods the Internet a bit more.
"what do borrowers look like"
"are borrowers real"
Zed stares at the screen for a while. Then turns his head to his right, to a single clean spot on his cluttered desk - and his mood sours a bit.
The little guy seems to be sulking, curled into a ball and head between his knees. Only a tuft of yellowish hair is visible above his arms and shoulders. He's dusty and covered in soil, and there are wet splotches all over his coat - presumably where he collided with leftover coffee. His tail is wrapped around him, a bright flash of color against the blurry wall of a glass jar.
(None of the stories mentioned the tail.)
"Hey," Zed taps the glass. The little guy shudders, but doesn't move. "You're being quiet."
The guy curls into himself tighter, murmuring almost inaudibly. "I'm not talking to you. I have dignity."
"And I've got an important scientific discovery to make! I can't just let you run away and hide in the wall," Zed retorts. It's - not like he's gonna keep him in here! It's just the safest place. For now. For the time being. Before he figures out what the hell is this thing. (And he doesn't want anything to live in his walls, as a bonus point.)
There's a pause, during which Zed wonders if he said anything wrong.
"Hey, Mr. Scientist," the little guy raises his head just a tiny bit, and Zed can see piercing red eyes staring into him. Can't tell if that's his irises or - the whole eyes. It makes uneasiness rise in him, the recent bite starting to itch. The guy continues, bitterness in his voice, "You think your subject will survive on several drops of coffee syrup?"
Zed curses himself.
"Dang it, that's - you're right. I'm sorry," he claps himself on the forehead and pushes himself away from the table. "Gimme a second, I - what do you eat, anyway? Sugar, bread? Seeds?"
The little guy shoots his head up, turning half his body to Zed. His face is red, and his voice boils with emotion, "S-Seeds?! Do you think I'm a mouse or what?"
"Doesn't hurt to check?" Zed shrugs; to be fair, a mouse would be a more plausible scenario. He bites his lip, taps his fingers together, thinking. "I've umm - got some poached beef in the fridge - alright, I'm gonna get some," he adds, seeing as the little guy's tail twitches, tapping against the bottom of the jar, and his face takes much more interested impression.
It doesn't last, though - as soon as Zed tries to stand up, the guy closes off again, turning his face away.
"Nope. Nuh-uh. I'm not taking anything from you. I'm striking."
"Why? You said you were -"
"I'm not your test subject."
Zed didn't say he's - Doesn't matter. He drops back onto the chair, sighing. Drops his head in his hands.
He's not cruel. Excitable, forgetful, unaware of others’ feelings as Skizz said, but - not cruel. And yet, he doesn't know what to do here.
The screen is still on, weak light reflecting off the mess all over the table. A half-finished article, letters blurring together. A picture of a tiny family, standing on a cupboard shelf. "If Borrowers existed, they'd lose heat much more quickly than a human, quickly enough to not be able to sustain themselves." And so many more other things. If they even existed. Because they shouldn't be real.
But there's a little guy on his desk, and he's unhappy.
Zed sighs again, and stands up.
"I'll be back, stay right where you are," he mutters as he pushes his chair away and hurries out of the room. A bewildered screech of "Where else do you think I'm gonna be?" follows him out.
*
Zed finds a spare bottle cap, then takes the beef out of the fridge and cuts a piece just big enough to fit inside of said cap. After some consideration and fridge excavation, he pinches off a tip of green onion leaf, a piece of a hamburger bun, throws it all in, and drips a tiny bit of ketchup on top of the makeshift meal.
His kettle starts to rumble, and Zed puts the cap aside, brews himself some tea. The hot sweet liquid clears his mind a bit, and he stays still, breathing in and out for a moment.
He leaves the spoon in the cup.
Next, he grabs a bowl from the drying rack - a white and blue one, this one belongs to Skizz, but Skizz isn't here to complain - and pours some hot water in. They're out of regular soap, and Zed ponders reality for a moment, before grabbing another spoon and pouring some shampoo in.
He balances all of that on top of the makeshift carboard tray (previously known as an empty pizza box), and marches back into the room. It doesn't magically get less cluttered while he's gone - so Zed has to push away his keyboard to settle the tray on his desk. Seems like it sends a message full of gibberish to someone in the process.
All the while, the little guy stays where Zed left him. At first - in the same pose, either acting up or genuinely distraught. Then, when Zed starts settling his load on the desk, pushing the textbooks aside as well - raises his head and watches his actions with slight confusion. He even uncurls himself, leaning forward on his hands, tail swishing behind him. The jar walls distort the movement, making him look even more like a tiny bug.
Zed finishes with the tray, zips to his closet taking out a clean face towel, and comes to kneel in front of the desk. His face is almost the same level as the little guy's.
"Um, so. I've got food, I've got tea - it's my cup, so try not to drink all of it," - a very vivid image forms in his mind, and he's unable not to giggle. "That's soap, and that's hot water - if you wanna wash yourself; here's my towel. I guess you can use it as a blanket, too? I - I can ask around for a heating pad if you need one." As he talks, the little guy stands up, pressing his hands into the jar's wall. He watches as Zed points to one thing after another, frowning a bit and casting quick glances to his captor. "Just - in general, ask if you need something. But you gotta stay on my desk, okay?"
The last words make the little guy twitch, and he turns his head to Zed, a tense, cautious look on his face. "Or what?"
"Or it gets very awkward for the both of us when I step on you," Zed shrugs.
The little guy hums to himself. Some of his hostility fades away - Zed can't be sure on that scale, but his shoulders seem to relax, and his tail swishes a bit lower.
"So, you're just gonna let me go? Like... this?"
"Yea sure why not." Zed's knees start to hurt a bit, and he has to stand up. All the easier to do the next part. "I'm gonna - tip the thing so you can get out. Hold onto something, okay?"
He grabs onto the jar's lid and unscrews it, slowly, trying not to shake it too much. His fingers tremble as he takes the lid off and ever carefully tilts the glass container. The little guy keeps holding himself against the wall; then his posture looks more like leaning; and then, when the jar is more horizontal than vertical, he scuttles towards the opening on all fours, pushes himself out of the jar and flops ungracefully onto the desk.
Zed hastily puts the jar away.
The little guy raises to his feet. Dusts himself off, runs his hands through his hair and - freezes, when he sees Zed turn back to him. His eyes flicker between the food-and-bath tray, Zed's face, and the gap between the desk and the wall. Slowly, almost fearfully, he lets his hands down, and tilts his head in a silent question.
"All good now, you're free to do whatever," Zed nods, and the little guy unfreezes the same second, almost bolting towards the food cap. He drops in front of it cross-legged and stuffs his face full of meat, his cheeks puffing up adorably round. Right before he's able to fit a breadcrumb in there, too, Zed remembers another thing well-behaved people usually ask each other.
"While we're at it," he starts, and the guy stops chewing. "Got a name, handsome?"
The guy's cheeks puff up a bit more with a choked-off sound, unclear if from confusion or laughter. He raises his arm, though, and takes his time to deal with his mouthful and swallow it. Zed waits, trying not to move too much.
"Name's Tango," the little guy exhales, finally, his voice rasping a bit more on the last syllable.
"Great! Wonderful," Zed smiles, raising his hands in the air. They're empty; he glances around to see his phone lying next to the entrance mirror. "Mine's Zedaph, Zed for cool people. Alrighty then, you do you, Tango, I'm gonna go have a moment."
He turns around, very tastefully, not gonna spy on the guy the size of your palm taking a bath - and marches towards his phone, grabbing the box of pleasures in one quick motion and retreating into the kitchen. Then, he allows himself to slide onto the floor in a slow dramatic motion and stare at the ceiling.
Wow. Just - wow.
Zed smiles like an idiot who just got his favourite idiot ball, and feels too lightheaded to decipher the emotion.
His phone buzzes, interrupting the bliss.
Zed reaches for the magic rectangle, unlocking the screen in a swift and complicated motion. Checks the recent dialogues - here it is, his keysmash gibberish, and a couple messages from Skizz underneath.
SkizzleMan 16:08: that's a statement
SkizzleMan 16:15: zed you good buddy?
Zed bites his lip, suppressing a startled giggle, hovers in his thoughts for a moment, and types away the response.
Zedaph 16:15: Everything A-Okay!
Zedaph 16:16: Just dropped a book at the keyboard, is all
SkizzleMan 16:16: Glad to hear!
SkizzleMan 16:17: your book tower, dude. was bound to happen
SkizzleMan 16:17: youre gonna get buried under that mess someday
Zed hesitates for a moment, then settles on a ":P" emoji and puts the phone away. That one's not gonna happen, he's sure of that. He's too beautiful to get buried under the pile of studies. But - Skizz doesn't know that, but - right now, there's a teeny tiny someone in his room who could really get squashed by that pile. Or even by a single stray falling book.
Zed takes a deep breath, and resigns himself to a weekend cleaning.