Gamon stared up at the ceiling of his darkened bedroom. A poorly timed nap had once again destroyed any hope of a proper sleep schedule, and he didn't want to think what time his phone would say if he checked. The perfect time, in other words, for all the regrets and guilt and shame to come bubbling up out of wherever the tanuki had been shoving it aside.

The destruction and rebuilding of his identity hadn't exactly helped. His old name was gone, blotted out of existence, but every other memory was intact, especially the ones where he did something stupid ... or annoying ... or offensive ... or hurtful ... or ... fuck, there were a lot of them. Many loud, blurry noises that he guessed were people yelling his old name in anger or frustration. Any attempt at remembering good moments just brought up old lectures about pride and how he needed to stop being so arrogant. Having a tanuki's big belly just meant there was that much more room for a sinking feeling in the pit of it.

"... Mom used to try to comfort me with the story of the Ugly Duckling," he muttered, ears folding. "An awkward outcast who endured all the grief and embarrassment and grew up to became a beautiful, talented swan that the old detractors couldn't help but admire."

His eyes closed in a wince of regret. "... pity I wound up being such a turkey instead, huh. Sorry about that, Ma ..."