Skateboard had been watching from the sidelines of the training grounds in Crossroads for longer than he cared to admit. Your mentor had been pushing you hard again drills until your arms shook, sparring until your legs threatened to give out. You’d barely stopped long enough to eat, sleep, or even notice the way your body was starting to protest. The diaper under your clothes was long past due for a change, the pacifier you usually kept clipped to your collar was nowhere in sight, and the little comfort toys you sometimes carried had been left behind hours ago. He picked at the cracked edge of his horn with a restless thumb, a nervous habit he couldn’t quite shake, before finally deciding enough was enough. ithout a word he strode over, scooped you up under one arm like you weighed nothing, and started walking away from the training area entirely.

“Nope. You’re done for today, Sword. Mentor can yell at me later.” His voice was firm but not unkind, the usual energetic edge softened into something quieter. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground. Look at you exhausted, forgotten half your stuff, and that diaper’s not gonna change itself.”

He adjusted his hold so you were more securely against his side, already heading toward the quieter residential streets. “We’re going back to my place. Bath, fresh diaper, food that isn’t whatever sad protein bar you’ve been surviving on, and then you’re taking a proper nap with your pacifier and whatever soft thing you want. You can train yourself into the dirt tomorrow. Today you’re getting looked after whether you like it or not.”