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_ Laundry Day _

A mistake, a blunder, a five-star screw-up: whichever way you dressed it, avoiding my laundry for as long as I had done wouldn't be repeated. Each hefty haul of my overflowing wash basket was a struggle, sending scrapes and grinds echoing right through this tatty old hallway. I swear, the dang thing must've been heavier than I was. And boy, what a rip-roaring time I was having dragging it from my apartment at the opposite end of the building. Thankfully, things seemed pretty dead at least; no-one around to spot the dumb ol' fox grunting and panting from lugging his own _clothes_about. Though with how thin the walls were in my apartment, I had no doubt any of my neighbours settled in at home were hearing me loud and clear.

The dim, flickering light at the far end of the hall left it looking like a scene from the lowest-budget horror film. Hanging a left there would've taken me to the dank front foyer. A right turn meanwhile left me just a few more drags from the laundry room. Maybe the fight with its busted up door handle would go better than the last time.

Finally, after two flights of stairs and that never-ending hallway, I'd made it. Suffering sore arms and a sorer temper, I barged through the door and out onto the raised, railing-lined floor that was our laundry room. Or, more exactly, our laundry area.

Two older-than-antique washing machines called this place home. Next to them, a pair of slightly less ancient dryers sat primed and ready. Further along that balcony-like area, just short of the wall of the laundry room itself, sat a bunch of individual cupboards where Maleni residents could store their detergent and whatnot. Mine went firmly unused, always. I mean hot damn, who in their right mind would trust the rickety locks and cardboard doors 'round here!?

The balcony was totally empty, leaving me the pick of either washer to use and any of the three flimsy seats to wait around in. Not that it meant I could be alone in here, no sir. Beyond the railings, I didn't so much spot, more got swamped by some big raccoon, some big _Visoka_raccoon, pretty much filling the laundry room itself. With his broad back to me, busy loading his own clothes from a basket standing as tall as the balcony, he hadn't the faintest idea that I'd wandered on in. Best way for it, I reckoned. Last thing in the world I wanted right then was to get dragged into pleasantries, or worse, a conversation with the neighbours. Especially one of these gosh darned building-sized ones.

I kept quiet as I could, treading softly while towing my laundry along behind me. The machines weren't so far away. About opposite to that big ol' basket chock-full of oversized clothes. Mind, large as they all were, I'd wager my own basket wasn't much lighter. Darn sure felt that way, anyhow, what with it threatening to pop my shoulder right outta its socket!

Nearing those cheap plastic seats, my head rolled right on back to some familiar thoughts. Like how much I'd have preferred to be in one of those swankier apartment buildings 'round here. The kind where the so-called 'Maleni section' had its very own laundry room, and not the half-assed setup offered up here. At those proper complexes, I wouldn't need to be taking my laundry on a marathon. And I darn sure wouldn't have to be under the shadow of some raccoon thumping about the place, humming a noisy tune with his rump shoved out and wagging right close to where I was walking!

The next pull on my basket proved so hard that the handle crackled in my paw. I peeked back to make sure it hadn't broken. Thanks to the stars, I avoided something else to get annoyed over. Taking a slow, steady breath, I calmed myself... a little. Enough at least to think that this place wasn't all bad. Close, darn close, but not _all_bad. For one thing, I was living in the big city now, and with the big city came big city prices. That meant rent at most any other place would've stretched me to the point of needing to choose between heat or light. Too bad that opting for both of those led to missing out on living somewhere with actual maintenance.

The first washer in line was completely dead. No lights glowing, no numbers on the credit display, no nothing. I sidestepped along to the other machine, only to find myself the exact same picture. A quick check of the wall socket above them told me the machines should've been live, but switching it off and on again didn't help a darn thing. I tried again, then again, but still there were no signs of life.

"Are ya kiddin' me right now!?" Backwards I stomped, almost tripping up over my basket as it reminded me of its presence. I caught my balance. Spun right round. Gave it a kick. That didn't do much, save for making my foot sore, too.

Now what, I asked myself. No chance could I last a couple more weeks without washing some clothes. My gosh, I didn't have enough left clean to wait a couple more days, never mind weeks.

My anger blasted past my teeth, like a grunt mixed with a bark. A metallic thud rolled out as my brush smacked against one of those broken washers. No matter the outcome, the consequences, I didn't have a choice. With both machines broken, all I could do was haul my laundry, my still unclean, still real heavy laundry, all the way back to my apartment... Outstanding.

Growling, I moved to grab the basket's handle. A loud, throaty cough outta nowhere startled me hard enough that I missed.

"Uh...?"

I whipped my head around to the source of that deep, bassy voice, coming at me from above this balcony. That's when I saw him, that overgrown raccoon, filling even more of the world as he hovered there. Watching me. Waiting.

"Not to go sticking my snout in but..." He crouched down a little lower. I jolted back fast. "Are those machines there busted again?"

He'd only lowered enough to leave me level with his stomach, but even that had my heart skipping and leaping up into my throat. No word of a lie, finding myself next to this brand-new, view-blocking cliffside, I must've shrunk down ten times over. Least that's how it felt, gawking on up at this... real big, _too_big raccoon. There were a whole lot more Visoka 'round here than back home, let me tell you. And way closer, too.

"They're busted, yeah?"

There went my heart again. "Y-Yeah... they are." Another reach for my basket. That time I found the handle and gave it a solid yank. "It's all good, no rush, I, uh..." I pulled again, heavy and hard, back towards the door, waving that guy away. "I'll come back. Tomorrow maybe. Got something I wanna catch coming on TV soon anyhow."

"Tsk. Guessing you're new here, huh?"

"Uh..." That answer slowed me right down. His creeping smile stopped me completely. "Moved on in 'bout a few weeks back. Why?"

"Because I know the last time those things broke, it was a good month before they were up and running again."

"A month!?" I snatched my paw from my basket, distracted from how far short my attempt at throwing it and the other on up at him fell. "What in blazes?"

"That's probably a month quicker than how long it took to fix up the air con when that packed in last summer." That raccoon stood on up, folding his arms. His teasing smile grew almost as large as him. "You didn't choose this place for luxuries like clean clothes and cool air, did you?"

"Pah." I glanced back at my laundry. The pile hadn't gotten any smaller. "Next you'll be telling me hot water's an added extra 'round this here dump."

"Well, I didn't wanna say out loud, but..." He shrugged, tail swishing, stepping on back to lean against one of those enormous washers. "Make sure you check next time they take the rent."

My jaw darn near dropped clean off. I'd have been shook if I wasn't shocked stiff.

"C'mon," he said through a sneer, shaking his head. "Be real. I'm joking, my man."

"Ah, well then. Glad ya cleared that up..." My snout creased. I didn't need his claptrap with how my day was panning out. "Best disguised joke I've ever heard. Almost like it was a bad one."

That raccoon blinked, face falling blank. His head cocked just a bit as he up and said, "Well now ain't you just the moodiest li'l fuck."

There went my jaw again. Off the bat, Visoka or not, I wanted to throw up my arms and snap back at him. To take everything out on the overgrown mask-faced jerk who'd stuck his snout where it wasn't welcome. But... I didn't. Couldn't. See, that self-satisfied, almost taunting smirk flashing back at me... it actually cooled me down. Kinda.

"Moody?" I spat back, hard and loud, only to flop on back against one of those lifeless machines and rap a fist against it. "Can ya blame me? Lugging this load down here, just to find..." Huffing, sinking, I gazed down at my shoes and started bellyaching at them too. "Gah. Finding it tough to tell what I should be expecting 'round here."

"Ah, y'know... things ain't all bad."

"Ya serious? Really!?"

The big raccoon peered around at nothing in particular. Mumbling, shrugging, he looked back down at me and admitted, "Okay, fine. It's _mostly_bad, but it still beats the last place I was staying, hands down."

"It-- What? Where were ya staying at? A barn?"

"A barn might've been an improvement."

A sudden snort blasted through my nose, a smile twitching across my snout. Both came unprompted. "Glad I'm not the only one having the time of their life here."

My slumping against that busted washer turned into resting. My fur felt that much more comfy to be in. The laundry room, too. Even with a big ol' Visoka right up close and personal like.

"'Ey listen," he said, pointing past me. "Since you're not gonna get any use outta those anytime soon, how about I throw your stuff in with mine?"

"My stuff?"

"Sure! Not like it's gonna take up a whole lotta extra room."

"Uh..." My comfy fur started to tingle something fierce. Scratching my neck only did so much to stop it. "Offer's mighty kind of ya, but... I'm fine. I've got myself other options and I'm in no rush to get this clean. Figured I'd try and get it done before I get busy this afternoon, is all."

"Ah, c'mon." His huge paw batted away each and every one of my words. "It's no big deal."

"I suppose, but--"

"From how I'm seeing it, it's looking like you've got everything you own ready to wash there."

I followed his glance over towards my overflowing laundry basket. I'd needed five mesh bags to fit all my dirty clothes. Good thing too, since I didn't have myself a sixth. "Guess I have been putting it off this last little while."

"And, just in case it was that other option you're talking about, I wouldn't even bother with that laundrette down on Rokova. Be cheaper to go out and buy your own machine."

"Laundrette?"

"Yeah."

"...Where?"

"Rokova Street. Next to the Quikshop. Just along from the bus stop--"

"Okay, that there don't mean a whole lotta anything to me! I ain't even heard of Rokova Street."

"Oh." The raccoon went kinda... blank. Like not knowing a place you were new to was odd. "Well, keep it that way. It'll work out a damn sight cheaper for you."

"Now_that_I can get behind." More talk of washing machines got me scowling at the ones behind me all over again. "I've got like twenty tolars on this here laundry card anyhow. Not paying nobody else to clean my clothes all while that's the case."

"All the more reason to just lemme toss your things in with mine." He started on over towards me and the balcony again. Lifting my head high enough to spot his grin beyond his chest wasn't easy. "And with how much you've got piled up, you'll have a mission and then some to take it anywhere else. Walkways or no."

I took my time mulling over his offer. Long enough that I wouldn't have been shocked to hear him withdraw it. He didn't rush me, though. Just kinda... loomed there, hanging over me and the balcony. I couldn't deny I appreciated the gesture, since as much as I didn't feel comfy over letting some Visoka I'd just met pluck up my dirty laundry, it sure did beat the idea of dragging it there and back to my place for no good reason.

"Looking like you're leaning towards a yes." He put a paw to his hip. "Am I right?"

"...Sure. If ya don't mind."

"'Course I don't." As close as he was to the balcony already, the raccoon shifted himself even closer. "Wouldn't have offered if I did, would I?"

I didn't have an answer for that, what with how busy I was watching a wide, lumbering tower of raccoon closing in on me. The tops of his shorts pressed up against railings hopelessly, hilariously outmatched by his thighs squashing around and between them. A faint creak and crackle caught my ears. I sure hoped they were from those railings and not the balcony itself.

"It's all in here, right?" Down came one of his massive grey paws, warming and parting the air as he bent on over. "Right?"

"G--uh, yeah!" I darted away from my basket, still firmly trapped in the path of his toppling chest and stomach. "Right. It's... all there."

"Cool, cool." He wrapped his fingers around it like it were a dang soda can. A small one at that.

In that long, lingering moment, I had nothing but the sight and scent of raccoon all around me. I shuddered uncontrollably, all too aware of how awfully tiny I was compared. Never mind my laundry, this guy could've snatched _me_up in a paw without even a hint of effort. "Gosh darn... that... wow."

"Hmm?" He started his way back on up. Like all this wasn't anything at all. "Say something?"

"Ah, no-- Nothing, I..." My face went flush. Warmer even than the air around me. "Was just saying is all... At least let me pay towards your laundry."

"Tsk, nah." He waved that away, starting to turn once up to his full, imposing height. "This ain't costing me nothing extra. Don't worry about it."

"Oh." That massive ringtail swished and swayed, hitting me with a stiff breeze as he lumbered on back to those giant machines opposite. "Thanks. Mighty kind of ya."

"Ain't nothing," he replied, bright and loud, starting up the same happy humming I'd heard back when I first came in.

My basket ended up deposited atop of his washer of choice, left to wait while my gigantic helper began to gather his equally huge mound of clothes. Humming aside, while the big guy got busy throwing enormous armfuls of shirts, trousers, socks and more into the machine, the lack of conversation had me feeling awkward while I watched. Much as I'd been hoping to do my laundry alone and in silence at first, well, silence didn't much feel right since it'd become a team effort. As for him being a Visoka... room-filler, view-blocker, shadow-caster or not, this one seemed like a good'un at least.

"So now..." Those first two words of mine came out easy. Too bad nothing else felt like flowing from my brain to my tongue. "...Uhm."

He peered on over at me, lugging a particularly large bundle of clothes out from his basket. Even with his perked ears and that still swaying tail, seeing that huge snout turn towards me turned my thoughts to static. "Sup?"

I froze up, just like I did that first time he spoke to me. Think, Todor, think. Say something. Visoka or not, gigantic or not, he was just a normal guy. A normal guy doing his laundry. And helping you to do the same in this shoddy excuse for an apartment building. "Ah, yeah!"

He snorted, the corner of his mouth rising into a befuddled smile. "Yeah, what?"

Paw to my temple, I shook my head, like trying to bump it into gear. "I was gonna ask... how long have you been living here?"

"Oh, uh... Been rooming here with a friend almost a year and a half now."

"_That_long?" He nodded in response. "No fooling?"

"No fooling."

"Wow... You've coped here for _that_long?"

He shrugged casually. "Might be super basic, but that suits me and my wallet right down to the ground."

"I hear ya," I replied, ears lifting. "That's much the same reason I went and settled on this place. Rent's pretty steep 'round these parts."

"Pfft. Ain't that the understatement of the year."

The way he spat, dang near roared out that response rocked me back on my heels and left me mighty quiet. Not for long, mind. Smoothing out into his mild but still bassy tone, he came back to ask, "How long have you been living here?"

"It's like I said before. Just a few weeks--"

"Nah, nah." The raccoon less waved, more swiped that away. "I know_that_. I mean how long have you been living in Sturanja? You don't sound like you're from around here."

My brush went stiff. He wasn't wrong about that, but hearing it mentioned so sharply brought that shrinking feeling right on back again. "...Same. Same answer. This here's my first time living outside of Kozinci.

His big, blank glare didn't help matters. It was like I'd told him I'd moved here from outer space or something. "My hometown. Out west. Not far from Vula."

"Ah, gotcha!" He brightened, eyes widening. "Hah, I shoulda done figured yous were one o' those there country boys."

My tight tail lashed out. "And I figure that there's the worst attempt at a west counties accent I've ever heard."

"Damn." He grinned wide, his own ringtail sweeping about playfully as he grabbed my basket from the washer. "Just trying to help you feel at home this far away from yours."

I crossed my arms. The sway of his tail convinced mine to follow in kind. "Appreciated."

One by one, the big raccoon plucked out my laundry bags, placing them inside that giant washer door. The care he took with them was something else I appreciated and then some. Who knew what kinda state my clothes would end up in if a guy his size started tossing them about the place. Thank goodness, he didn't leave me much time or space to start far down that line of concern.

Standing up, bumping the door closed, he turned and took a massive, thudding stride halfway back to the balcony. "Hey, I'm Nik by the way." He reached out his arm, offering a paw and extending a finger towards me. "Good to meet you."

The whole of him kept on approaching, throwing me and everything around me back into that warm, deep, inescapable shadow. Once again, there was nothing but raccoon... Nik before me, looming large, his finger still closing in fast.

"Todor... I'm Todor." I tried to lift my shaky arm. My second attempt succeeded. I'd seen this scene before. Mostly on TV and the like. It shouldn't have been too tough to act out in the fur. Jump on in just like a city-dweller, I figured.

"Oh," I barked in shock. I'd reached on up to meet and shake his finger, only to have him jab it hard against my palm. "Uh...?"

"My bad." The big raccoon cringed for a moment, quickly following up with a chuckle. "Guess I'm more used to getting a fistbump off Maleni."

My ears sank low. "My mistake."

"Nah, nah, you're good." Nik steadied his finger, holding it perfectly placed for me to wrap my fingers around its tip. "Welcome to Sturanja."

With just the smallest move of his paw, we shared the hardest, weirdest... most amusing pawshake I'd ever experienced. "Thank you kindly."

Finally, I felt less pressure, less weight pressing down on me in that there laundry room. As the giant-sized washer started spinning and whirring into life, I could speak without risk of stuttering, umming or ahhing. Mostly, anyhow. There came times while Nik and I shot the breeze that responding came tricky. Though that mostly came from not knowing what to say, and not from trying to say it to a big raccoon stretching up towards a _very_high ceiling.

I figured that was where some reluctance to hang about came from. No doubt, I wasn't as overwhelmed as when he first stomped his way on over to the balcony, but that didn't ease all my awkwardness over trying to make idle chit-chat with a new neighbour. Part of me still wanted so bad to head on up to my apartment and wait for my laundry to finish, just like I usually would. But on this occasion, I didn't much have a choice. This guy, this real new, real large neighbour, pretty much had hold of all the clothes I owned. The idea of leaving them behind just didn't sit right at all. And, all of my dooming and glooming aside, Nik did actually seem... nice. For a loud, city-slicking Visoka anyhow.

Much as I probably sounded like I'd dropped my tongue into the basket he'd carried off with him, that didn't stop us getting to know each other a little more. For instance, I found out that Nik was born and raised here in Sturanja and worked at a hardware store a short ways away. In return, he found out that my work was the main reason I moved on out here, what with there being slim opportunities and then some for finding a decent accounting job back home. That, and I'd figured close to thirty years of small-town living was plenty enough for one lifetime.

Conversation flowed real well, real smooth for a while, but it didn't take long for topics to start drying up like those corn fields back home during a hot summer. I got lost figuring out what more to say, and in kind, Nik started going real quiet, too. That there was the point I began searching around the room. Maybe something would inspire me, jog my memory, and give me something to help us out of this awkward silence that, actually, I wouldn't have much minded a short while previous. Imagine my surprise, then, when I found that inspiration from the reason I was stood there to begin with.

"Oh," I muttered out loud, watching the giant washer take a break from spinning. An orange and blue shirt caught my eye among the rest of the wet laundry. Familiar bold shades arranged in a familiar patterning. I had time enough to study it a little better, spotting an unmistakable logo on its chest right before the machine started back up again. "Raltek."

"What d'ya say, sorry?"

I pointed past Nik towards the washer: a washer I could no longer see once he turned his huge frame towards me. "That's a Raltek Racing shirt you've got yourself, right?"

"Aha, yeah!" He grinned. "Good eye. Guessing you're a fan, yeah?"

"Uh, I wouldn't say I'm a fan... It's a good car and all, but--"

"Nah, I'm talking about Super GP," he barked. "You must be into S-GP to know that's a Raltek shirt."

"For sure! Big time." Nik's ears rose up high to my reply, his grin growing larger the longer I spoke. "I love S-GP, the A-Series. Rallycross, too. If it's got four wheels and an engine, I'll watch it race."

"Cool!" He started to crouch lower, then thumped all the way down to kneel, hovering so close that his chin hung almost in reach. I could see his delight clear as day. Delight that spread right on through to me. "I've seen some of that Polcian A-Series. Rally, not so much... Single-seater stuff's more my thing, y'know?"

"Fair, fair. Reckon that's the same for me too."

That big ol' tail of his swept over the carpet. Nik legit looked amazed, leaning down and forward to the point where I wondered if these railings might end up bending. I didn't get the reason for it, but... hey, whatever. Chatting some about racing was an avenue I was more than willing to journey along.

"Ahh, y'know, I think I just got it," he called out loud, chuckling a Visoka-sized blast of air my way. "That's why you were in such a rush to get away earlier. Gotta get back in time to watch the qualifying for tomorrow's race, am I right?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's it." My cheeks turned sore from how far my own smile spread. How fast I forgot that he himself was a part of my motivation to escape all those minutes ago. "Can't miss this one. The Vodak Grand Prix's always a doozy."

"No doubt!" Nik threw up his huge paws. Caught the railings with a knuckle. The whole darn balcony vibrated. Me, too. He hadn't a clue. "Honestly, it's one of my favourite circuits. Open and twisty. Plenty of overtake chances. Lotta action and tension every race."

A few moments of coping with a giant raccoon being giant aside, I fell right on into this latest, greatest topic of conversation. The shadow Nik kept me under while our laundry whirred and spun away was the largest, darkest yet. He crouched so close I could feel the warmth of his breath, his chest. One elbow rested here atop the balcony, supporting a fist that supported a face still filled with delight. I felt like I was talking to a masked mountain wearing a shirt. And darn it if it wasn't shaping up to be the best talk I'd had since moving to Sturanja.

We fired back and forth at each other, analysing how the first few races of the championship season had unfolded. Then, without skipping a beat, we discussed who our favourite drivers on the grid were. Of course, Darek Sobota was Nik's favourite. It made sense, what with him being one of the Raltek drivers, and another raccoon to boot. Personally, I couldn't ever look past Anto Jaric. Coming from a town not far from Kozinci made him something like a hero back west.

"Jaric?" Nik spat, snorting so deep that both he and the floor beneath me rumbled. "My man, if you wanna support a Bolstrovan, why not Kosar? Or Simunic? 'Least they've got some talent."

"Talent? What!?" I swiped up through the air at him. Not even close to his snout, but... had I really just done that? To a Visoka? "Uh--"

"Throw paws at me all you want, but I ain't lying." Yeah, I had. But a still beaming Nik sure didn't mind one bit. "He's lucky to have picked up any points at all this season."

"Put him in a better car than a Calvez, then you'll see," I insisted, confident enough at least to jab a finger his way. "He's driving the wheels off that thing this season."

"If ya say so."

"I do say so!"

"Okay, okay. Jeez." Nik held up his paws, playing like my pointing was any kinda threat. "I'd say that's fave drivers covered, so... how about drivers you dislike?"

"Dislike?"

"Yeah! Anyone on the grid who you wish wasn't? Rub you up the wrong way and stuff?"

I rubbed my chin, struck a little from left-field by that question. "...Probably not?"

"Ah, c'mon." One of those paws raced on down to slap the floor next to me. "How about Lisitsyn?"

A sudden step sideways helped me catch myself, thrown off-balance by the gust of air and the rattling rolling from that impact. Gosh dang, cheap and cheerless as this place was, that balcony could sure take a beating. "I-uh... Can't say I dislike him any."

"Ah, man." Nik kept on talking, smiling, acting like he hadn't just shaken up my world. "Here comes the species bias."

"What?"

"You say that just 'cos he's a fox too!"

"Naw, it's just... I guess he's a moody one, but--"

"There's moody, then there's him. Typical dour Velikan, even when he's winning. Standing up on the podium like it's a damn funeral."

"Woah." I laughed ugly, spitting and sputtering. That tickled a rib just right. "You think?"

"You don't?" He couldn't fight back a snort, either. "Only thing more fitting would be if he climbed into an all-black race suit and brought along some flowers or something."

We kept on talking, kept on sharing and joking. Nik had settled even further forward, both arms on the balcony, one paw resting on the other. Nice and relaxed. Not bumping or slapping anything. Not shaking or rattling everything. Even after I'd stepped on back to park myself on one of those junky plastic seats, I still had the big guy's shadow all over me. A real common, increasingly familiar experience by that point.

Chat-wise, we moved right on ahead, drifting away from S-GP to the A-Series championship that I often watched. A different series meant different things to talk about. Different areas where we could find some common ground... and some disagreement, too.

"It's good racing, no doubt," said Nik, glancing at the wall above and behind me. I could still see his mouth twist from below. "Similar to S-GP in a lotta ways... Just tough to watch sometimes."

"Tough? How come?"

"I mean with the time difference." His jumbo-sized muzzle tilted back down towards me. "If it's a race in western Polcia, that makes for a race that's not finishing until past midnight here. That ain't no good if I gotta open the store on a Monday morning."

"Ah, well now that's fair. Usually I go and record the race, then catch up the next evening if it's gonna run too late."

"Hmm." Nik kinda half-shrugged. "An option, I s'pose."

"Worth it in my book." I nodded hard, folded my arms and sat up straighter. "A-Series is legit. Way more parity between the teams compared to S-GP. The best drivers are the ones who come out on top more often than not. The world title's always well won."

"True, true, but..." Nik's snout was so close I could catch every movement. I'm sure I saw his jaw set. Like biting something back. "It's not really a world title, is it?"

"Sure it is. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I dunno." He glanced away again, scratching an itch deep under his shirt collar before finally coming out to suggest, "It's a Polcian-only series."

"And?"

"...I don't see how you can call yourself the _best_in a regional series like that."

"Wha--?" I huffed so hard, sat forward so fast, it seemed like even a raccoon his size couldn't help but turn my way again. "Wait just a second now. When you say Polcian-only, what you talking about?"

"It's all in Polcia," he explained, voice small, shrinking on down until he was almost at my level. "They only race on tracks over there."

"Okay then, that makes it Polcia_only, not _Polcian-only. There's plenty of drivers my size that race there from all 'round the world. Great drivers."

"Yeah, nah, I know." His voice got quieter and quieter. "That's what I'm trying to say, yeah?"

I shrugged, huffed again. "Then I just don't get it."

"I mean... I dunno." Nik slumped forward against the balcony. I'm sure one of those railings bent against his chest. "All I meant was it's not really a world championship if the racing's only happening on one continent."

"Oh." I sank in my seat. There we were again, a big raccoon overlooking a way smaller fox. My voice settled on down accordingly. "Gotcha... Guessing I see what ya mean by that."

Nik's smile returned, a happier 'hmph' slipping on past it. "See, it'd be cool if they brought it over and raced on some of the scaled-down tracks at circuits here. If nothing else, it'd save me from sleepy Monday mornings."

"Yeah, that'd be something. And gosh, I'd sure love to see an A-Series race up close. No need to pay a buttload to head on over to Polcia and watch elite stuff on my level." My ears twitched, eyes widening. Nik's, too. In sympathy, I reckon. Unless he shared the very same thought that I had. "Oh, even better..."

"What's even better?"

"I was thinking... It'd sure be something if they could figure a way for larger and smaller drivers to race one day. I've... kinda always wanted to see that. A mixed-size championship. The best of the best, all competing against each other."

His smile curled up all big and amused like. "As long as it don't end up like that sim series they tried a few years back."

"Ah, now that weren't so bad."

"Pfft, come on. It sucked tail. Wasn't even _close_to feeling like the real thing."

I settled back, one arm up and resting on the backrest. "You sure it wasn't 'cos a Maleni driver won two outta the three championships?"

"More like because it was a prettied up video game and nothing like watching real cars on real tracks." With a soft nod, Nik lifted away from my seat, and the balcony. "I'm with ya on the mixed racing, though. It'd be amazing if they could ever pull something like that off. See who's really top of the pile..."

Barely a moment after some light returned to that there balcony, a shrill, three-note chime sounded through the laundry room. Way sooner than I was expecting. Same for Nik, too, judging by the speed he flashed his snout towards it.

"Well," he said over his shoulder, peering back my way to add, "Time flies when you're having fun, eh?"

"Something like that," I replied through a fast chuckle. Thing is, he sure wasn't lying.

Nik sprang on up to his feet so fast that I swear I heard the air whistle. Back to full height, back to blocking off the room and smothering me in shadow all over again. "I'll go shove our stuff into the dryer."

With a first balcony-trembling stomp, he bounded and thumped his way on over to the washer, big tail still swaying once he bent down to open the door and delve inside. The happy humming from earlier returned, joined along by a rhythmic rocking of his hips. All seemed good. I could sit back in my seat and relax some. For the tiniest little bit anyhow.

"Oh..." Nik came to a sudden, silent stop, frozen for a moment that stretched into several more. "...Huh."

"Something wrong?" More quiet followed. A bonus that my raising fur didn't much appreciate. "Nik?"

He shifted as if about to stand... "Nah, I-- Ack!" ...Only for the top of his head to crash against the lip of the door. "Damn it."

"You alright?" I stood up from my increasingly uncomfortable seat. "What's wrong?"

Nik's ears lowered as he sucked air through his teeth. "...Guess I hadn't thought of this."

"Problem with the clothes?" I started on over towards the railings. All still straight and intact. Not that I was studying them long. "_My_clothes?"

"Nah, it's fine," he claimed, still hiding away inside the washer. "...Should be cool."

"Should be?" I grabbed a railing and squeezed. A fair few thoughts started swirling through my head... Like what to do if most of the clothes I owned were ruined, or worse. "That there don't inspire much confidence."

Finally, slowly, Nik emerged out into the open, hauling some of its contents out after him. With a heavy, unnerving sigh, ears still low, he turned back my way, cuddling a giant heap of soggy clothes to his chest. In his paws meanwhile... nothing. All except for one of my mesh laundry bags, looking awfully isolated in a huge open palm. "...Well these here look all good."

Oh, good lords... "The rest?"

He blurted out a brief, awkward, sliver of a chuckle. His smile wasn't anything like as nervous as I felt. "I'll let ya know once I've found 'em."

Oh no. Oh... dang it. _Damn_it! Time flies when you're having fun, for sure. But right then, with my chest tightening and stomach twisting up into knots, time was dragging something fierce. "They're lost?"

"Can't be." He shook his head, ears still stuck down real low. "How you gonna lose clothes in a washing machine? ...Right?"

Right, wrong, whatever, I couldn't think past the dark clouds massing in my head. How'd this happen? Why in the world did I let this overgrown raccoon snatch up my clothes and lose 'em? Darned Visoka. Too clumsy, slipshod and... too darn _big_for their own, or anyone else's freaking good.

It took me a moment and then some, but I dragged something sounding like a reply outta my throat and into my dust bowl of a mouth. The tip of my tongue was as far as it got, right before I spotted something tumble outta that mound of clothes and bounce off Nik's arm. "Hey! Is that...?"

"Huh?" He shifted on fast, thudding feet. I watched him watch whatever went tumbling all the way down to the ground. "Oh, hey!"

"A bag?"

"A bag!" Crouching quick, Nik scooped it on up into that all but empty free paw of his. "Nice. That makes two."

"Outta five."

"The rest have all gotta be mixed up with my stuff. Duh." He shook his head and snorted into the laundry pile in his arms. "There I was thinking it... uh, actually, don't mind me."

"Gosh darn." I gasped hard, throwing a paw to my easing chest before managing a laugh. "Thinking we both figured the same."

After the biggest, heaviest sigh I reckon I'd ever witnessed, Nik heaved himself all the way back up to stand again. With ears perked up high, a spring in his substantial step, he dumped that armful of clothes into his basket before returning to the washer for more.

"Hey," he called as he reached inside. "I'm thinking..."

Seemed that thinking of his ran deep, what with how quiet he went while lugging the next bunch of clothes out into the open. "About?"

"Things being as they seem..." Into the basket it all went. Back into the washer he went. "If you're feeling it, once I've got the dryer up and running..." With the fourth and final bundle retrieved, Nik finally peered my way. "You wanna come back and chill at my place for a while? Thinking that way, we can dig your stuff out from mine in a more comfy setting than here."

My jaw went slack, mouth tumbling open. "...Uh. Did ya say _your_place?"

"Yeah."

"Like... a place that's..."

His head tilted just a bit. "What?"

"...A Visoka apartment?"

His lips creased and twisted into what I could only describe as bemused amusement. "Well I don't reckon I'd suit a Maleni one too great."

"Right--"

"Same reason why I didn't suggest coming around yours. It'd be... cramped."

I rubbed at my temple, then my brow. Way to make yourself look like a dumb ol' country boy, Todor. "...Probably."

Nik picked up his basket, tail swishing hard as he took a couple of Visoka-sized paces towards the dryer. "Man, you really are new around here."

"Hey now... I don't recall claiming otherwise."

He dropped the laundry with a solid thump. It only distracted me from his big ol' grin for a moment. "Offer's still there, yeah?"

A Visoka apartment... full of Visoka-sized furniture, belongings...everything. Seeing that up close at the office was still a head spinner, even after a few weeks of working there. At least there we had dividers, pathways, and other facilities to keep us close but apart. Exposed but safe. Could I expect the same around the complex?

"Plus..." Nik dipped into his basket, still smiling, still swinging that tail. "Hanging back at mine means we ain't gonna go missing the qualifying."

Watching racing at a Visoka-sized apartment? That meant watching racing on a Visoka-sized TV. What would that look like? A moving billboard or something? Where would I sit? How would any of this work at all? Wondering how cool the racing would look sparked my thoughts nicely. Pondering how I'd cope with everything else dampened them right back down again.

"What d'ya say?" With arms full of clothes again, he stood there waiting for me. Almost hopeful. "Up for it?"

All those thoughts aside. All the size weirdness forgotten about... I hadn't had anyone to watch or enjoy racing with since moving away from Kozinci. Nor all that much else, honestly. Was I really about to turn that opportunity down?

"No pressure if you don't wan--"

"Sure!" In the end, my answer came quick and easy. As did how much taller I stood on that there balcony. "Thanks a lot."

"Great!" Tail whipping its hardest yet, Nik slammed those clothes into the dryer. "And don't mention it."

As bright and buzzing as I felt right then, bouncing on my heels and showing a smile wasn't enough to push my doubts away completely. "Uh, one thing?"

"Yeah?"

"So... How am I gonna go about getting there? To your apartment. From here."

He bent on down to grab another heap of laundry, snorting. "You can walk? There's walkways all around the complex, y'know?"

"Ah, yeah... Sure. Makes sense."

Nik flashed a grin from the lip of his basket. "Or I can just carry ya."

I less stepped, more jumped on back from the railing. "Carry?"

"Yeah, carry?" His brow furrowed. "You ain't never been carried by a Visoka before?"

"...No."

"Oh." The whole of him lifted in surprise. "Okay."

"Didn't know too many of 'em, uh, of _you_back home. Kozinci is kinda... more like two towns next to one another. One big, one... smaller."

"Makes sense." He offered up a friendly gaze. "You can walk if you prefer it." Next came a suggestive paw off towards the end of the balcony. "Ride down to the walkway from there and--"

"No, no..." I put up my own paws, fast and keen, way before I pushed more words past my tongue. "I'll... I reckon I'll give it a shot. Getting carried."

"Alright then." Nik showed off some teeth. "Promise I won't go losing you like your laundry."

"Thanks," I replied, far easier, returning to the railing. "Though I'm kinda hoping you haven't actually lost the rest of my things."

"Yeah, same." He scratched his cheek, waiting a little longer than was comfy to insist, "Everything'll be there, you watch. It'll be cool."

That attempt at reassurance had me plenty more anxious than assured up on the balcony. Not the greatest of feelings to be experiencing while waiting for Nik to finish loading the dryer. He did look calm at least. Happy, even. Maybe I could believe that the five-star screw-up that was my laundry run so far hadn't earned a sixth.

"Right," Nik called, swiping the dryer's door closed with his ringtail before firing it into life. "We're all set."

"Well alright then."

"We going?" Without skipping a beat, he darted on over towards me. "The show'll be starting any second."

Light turned to shadow the fastest yet. My legs rushed me back a couple of steps all on their own. "S-Sure--" Keen, too keen, Nik plummeted towards the balcony like a raccoon-shaped landslide. Everything but his stomach and chest disappeared from view. I didn't clock his paws until they closed on in from either side. No fooling, I'd have ended up flat on my rear if they hadn't clamped around and wrapped me up tight. "Woah, woah!"

"Sup?"

"Cool it!"

"Cool what?"

I hurtled on up with him, like riding the fastest, most stomach-churning elevator in all of creation. Legs and head aside, I couldn't move a muscle. All except to shudder from the sensation of his tight, claustrophobic pads. "Careful!"

"Ah, you're fine."

"Slow it on down--"

"This_is_slow, country boy."

"Gosh dang..." I couldn't see a thing past his arm-sized fingers, but I could feel us moving higher and higher and higher still. I remembered how tall Nik looked from down on the balcony. Then I saw how much closer to that not-so-high ceiling he'd lifted me. "I-I'm not so keen on heights, just so y'know. I always worry I'll fall."

"Good thing I'll catch you if I drop you then."

"What--!?"

"Man, I'm joking, chill out!" He might've roared that at me, but we did slow and his grip did ease. "You're cool. Stop fidgeting, gods."

I didn't have a chance to stop, chill, argue or otherwise before the whole world shifted, sending raccoon-scented air blasting into my face. We were on the move and all I could do was grit my teeth, grab whatever I could find of Nik's paws and clench.

"Yeah, like that, man." He shook. I shook. The thump of his first step travelled all the way up from his foot and right through my spine. "Won't be long. My place is just down the hall."

That whole jolting, jarring event repeated. Then again. Maybe taking that walkway wouldn't have been so bad after all. "G-Great."

"Looking forward to this qualifying session," he cheered, overflowing with excitement. "Guess we'll see if Sobota or Jaric wind up starting higher up the grid."

His next step echoed. I almost forgot to answer. "...Yeah."

"Kinda thinking we already know the answer to that, though." I heard him chuckle, but I could only feel his next movement. My churning stomach started to lurch. I dug my claws even deeper into his pads and tried my best not to freak out entirely.

I'd lost count of how many steps we'd travelled by the time we exited through the giant-sized doorway. Apparently a lotta city folk travelled like this, riding around in the paws or pockets of their bigger friends. To me, this whole arrangement felt less like a favour and more like an abduction. Almost.

"Jeez, loosen up those claws, man." The tops of his paws parted. Just enough for me to peer on up to his smirking but sympathetic snout. "I got you, yeah? So just chill out. We'll be watching my guy dust your guy on track before you know it."

Something about that combo of his easing hold, playful smile and gentle ribbing did enough to start settling me down. I wouldn't go so far as to say I was 'chilling' there in his grasp, but... I'd calmed enough at least that I could stop my teeth from grinding.

Down the hallway we started. A hallway just like the one back in my part of the complex, except... large. Massive, even. Impressive as it all was from my position, I didn't spend much time admiring our surroundings, my attention fixed firmly on those paws of his instead. Paws that were tight, sure... but secure. Being carried around completely within another person's grasp felt awful weird, but... nice. Cosy, even. It didn't take long to forget all about how high up I must've been, helped along by the distraction that was how much I bounced with each of his heavy steps. Gosh, if folks back home could've seen or experienced this... hah, they'd have run for the hills in no time flat.

Just like Nik promised, we wound up settling in at his place not a couple of minutes after. He had himself a big ol' couch facing a TV that looked like a darn cinema screen. Not a bad way to watch the racing, no sir.

Sinking into a perfectly-sized recliner set atop a side table, I couldn't help thinking some popcorn would've completed that picture. Nik couldn't offer up that for me, but his roommate... his _Maleni-sized_roommate, well, he had himself a handy supply of snacks that Nik insisted I'd be more than welcome to. Goodness, relaxing back, a soda in one paw and chips in the other, I sure hadn't pictured things playing out that way back in the laundry room.

Oh, and speaking of the laundry room, when Nik headed on back there a short ways into the action, he returned to the apartment carrying all five of my laundry bags in paw. Again, just like he'd promised. Oof. Both myself and my wallet wanted to thank him ten times over for that.

But, as super as all that was... the time spent with Nik wasn't without its downsides. Namely, I had to watch my favourite driver qualify five places behind and close to a second slower than the guy Nik was rooting for. Something he sure didn't mind poking fun at me about. No matter. That just had me hoping I'd get the chance to offer up some payback after the actual race was run. Especially after he invited me back to watch it along with him and his roommate the next day.

For all the paper-thin walls, dingy halls and super-budget everything else around this place... who'd have thought that a trip down to the laundry room would prove things weren't so bad here after all.