Atomic CritterS
Volume I | Part I
Chapter 3: “The Barn”
The barn sat just off the main path,
its wide doors thrown open to the late-day air. Dust floated in the slanted light like it had nowhere better to be, settling on old tools, feed sacks, and the wooden ribs of the structure itself. The place smelled of hay, oil, and metal—a record of work done quietly and often alone. Sounds softened here. Even footsteps seemed to lose interest before reaching the walls.
Kagen leaned against a feed barrel, slipped on his headphones, and hit play.
The opening riff cut through the quiet—distorted, sharp, exact. The kind of sound that didn’t ask how he was feeling. It already knew.
He closed his eyes.
Didn’t hear her come in.
A soft thump landed near his boots. Then another.
Kagen opened one eye.
A vixen sat a few feet away, ears high and angled forward, body completely still. Listening.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He lifted one earcup just enough to let the music leak into the barn.
The vixen lunged forward and pressed her entire face into the dangling headphone.
“Oh,” Kagen said flatly. “Oh no.”
He pulled the headphones off his head. She followed them like they were oxygen.
He flipped them over in his hands. Pale fur clung to the padding.
“…That’s why,” he muttered. “That’s why you’re never where I leave you.” he said, speaking to his headphones.
The vixen chirped and tried to climb his leg.
Kagen sighed and dropped onto an overturned crate, the headphones settling around his neck. The vixen immediately claimed the right earcup, curling against it like it was warm.
“So,” he said, tilting his head as the barn light caught her fur and turned it warmer, brighter—almost unnaturally so. The orange gathered into soft, rounded patches along her sides, glowing like something rolled in dust and sunlight.
“What should I call you… how about Cheeseball?”
He said it like an observation, not a joke. The name settled in the space between them and stayed.
“I take it you’re a meta fan.”
Her tail flicked once. She stayed pressed to the sound.
“Figures,” he nodded. “You’ve got that energy.”
He tapped the side of the headphones. “This is Metallica. Their early stuff, like Enter Sandman and Master of Puppets might be a good starting point for you.”
Cheeseball didn’t respond.
He waited anyway.
“…I’ll take that as agreement.”
Another track rolled in.
“Okay. This is Gojira,” he said. “Heavy, but deliberate. Like the earth’s mad at you for existing.”
Her ears twitched.
“Don’t pretend you don’t feel that.”
He leaned back, staring at the rafters. “Pantera might be more your speed, though. No patience. Zero respect for personal property.”
Cheeseball scrambled up his chest, trying to shove her head fully into the headphones.
“Hey—hey—personal space,” Kagen laughed, gently pulling her back. “These are expensive. At least, they were at one point.”
His hand found the spot behind her ear without him thinking about it.
“…You ever get the feeling,” he said lightly, “that you’re only useful as long as you’re providing something?”
Cheeseball chewed on the headphone cord.
“Yeah,” he said. “That tracks.”
The song ended.
Silence rushed in.
Cheeseball froze. Her ears pivoted.
Then she bolted—skidding across the barn floor and out the open doors like she’d been called somewhere better.
“Wait—hey, hold on,” Kagen said. “I wasn’t—”
Nothing.
He stared at the empty doorway, the barn quiet again, fox fur clinging stubbornly to the headphones in his hands.
“…And you’re just like everyone else,” he muttered. “Taking what you want and leaving.”
He snorted once and shook his head.
“Stupid,” he said. “You’re a fox.”
Kagen wiped the fur from the padding, put the headphones back on, and turned the volume up just a notch louder than before.
