Viktor couldn't believe he was doing this.

"Don't worry, Kohgrash, we've done this before, remember?"

"Yeah, when I was thought of as an animal. And suffering from a concussion."

"This should be easy as wrestling a Chorsl, then."

"Have you wrestled one of them?"

"Well - no, I have not. But I heard it is remarkably easy, and that's what really matters."

The lights were harsh and bright, and the makeup they had slathered over Viktor's face immediately felt itchy. The bandana around his throat was constricting, but he didn't dare pull it off. He could already feel himself sweating with nervousness, and he could only hope that it wasn't visible. As he and Vok'Rul stepped out onto the stage, his mounting dread made his heart stutter.

He could not believe he was doing this.

"Hello, hello! Welcome. Please, make yourselves comfortable!" the interviewer they had agreed to see - under recommendation from the government - said cheerily. A lady name Natasha, they had said. The same woman who had interviewed Zach. "Well, as comfortable as you can get, Your Majesty!"

Vok'Rul had let slip to a reporter while they had been on their way to another grocery store that he was royalty and finally, people were addressing him the way he had heard so often on A1-308. The sheer normalcy of someone calling the alien Your Majesty calmed his racing heart a little bit.

Vok'Rul laughed at the woman's words, arranging himself neatly on the large couch. Viktor struggled onto it with some sneaky assistance from Vok'Rul. He was getting better; he could walk for a few feet without his walker, but it was still an uphill battle. "It is a comfortable seat, I assure you. In fact, most things on Earth are rather comfortable! Perhaps you, my lady, had something to do with that? Your presence certainly is relaxing."

The interviewer fawned, exclaiming over his polite charm. Viktor wanted to gag, but he graciously refrained. He wondered, briefly, what Thruul thought of all Vok'Rul's flirting. Then, he realized that the alien probably didn't even know they had TVs on Earth.

Natasha had gained some fame over her interviews with Zach and had so far skyrocketed through her career, interviewing as many 'abductees' as she possibly could. When she had reached out to Vok'Rul - through various emails and mouthpieces from the government - during the third month they had been back on Earth, they had reluctantly accepted.

There were some conditions to this interview: 1) Viktor and Vok'Rul were to be together, 2) they were not to be questioned about the intricacies of the alliance made between their planets, and perhaps the most important of all, 3) they were not to be questioned about Viktor's injuries.

Viktor was worried, though. Natasha had that glint in her eye that he had seen on many people, aliens and humans alike. It promised nothing but trouble.

"I'm glad you both could make it," she said with a smile. She was pretty, Viktor supposed, in that detached sort of attractiveness kind of way. Blonde hair that glistened in the light framed her face, which had natural-looking make up on it. The translator in her ear, made by Blacksmith with the leftover materials they had on the ship, blinked passively. "I must say, I was rather shocked when you accepted my offer. I know hundreds of people who'd be eager to be in my place."

Vok'Rul smiled serenely - Viktor had taught him that one - and said, "Ah, but no one else caught my attention quite like you, madam. Kohgrash and I are very pleased to be here."

Natasha smiled back, though hers was a touch predatory. Her eyes slid over to Viktor, and he tried his best not to bare his teeth in response. He was just overimagining things.

"You know, myself and probably," she laughed a little here, "the whole world, have wondered just what that name is. Kohgrash."

His name was weird on her lips. She pronounced it all wrong, emphasizing the wrong syllable and slurring the sounds together.

Viktor cleared his throat, speaking for the first time, "Well, Kohgrash is what they call me in their language."

He had wondered, during his sleepless nights, what Vok'Rul might have called him had he not been given the name Kohgrash by the ringmaster. He probably would've picked something as stupid as Fhora.

"How interesting," she said. "Did most people get different names over there?"

Viktor nodded slowly, glancing up at Vok'Rul. "As far as I know. At least, most of the people I met had their name and the name their aliens gave them." Orange, Pear, Shrrsk, Fhora, Eclipse, Comet... the list went on. And while the translators had definitely evolved and gotten more efficient at... well, translating, there were still some words that muddled with his head.

"Does Kohgrash have a meaning? Fido, Rex, Max?"

"Well," Viktor said slowly, hesitantly. "Someone... cruel gave it to me."

The ringmaster was difficult to speak of, and while the alien had never really stated that his name was Kohgrash, he hated to remember that his name was given to him in that place. He could still remember the sand underneath his feet, the sharp pain in his arm from Oorah's tail, the harsh thumping in his chest, and the sound of the crowd cheering his new name.

"So," he continued through dry lips. "I guess I'm not really sure what it means. Or if it means anything nice." The interviewer looked disappointed.

He looked at Vok'Rul, who looked slightly pained but otherwise had his political mask - polite and aloof - written all over his face. At his glance, the alien's gaze softened, and his smile became real for a fraction of a second.

"Surely, you know what it means, Your Majesty," the interviewer, ever eager to speak with an alien, turned to Vok'Rul.

Did Viktor want to know? Did he really want to know? He remembered the amused and somewhat skeptical expressions of Vok'Rul's bodyguards, of Rukka, of Thruul, when the alien had introduced him to them. What did it mean? The curiosity had been eating at him for months, for a year, but now that he was staring at it right in the face, he wasn't sure if he wanted the answer.

But he knew it would come out eventually, and he'd likely never have this much control over it again. He hoped it wasn't anything embarrassing.

"Well, Kohgrash literally translates to 'the prodigious killer of champions.'"

Yeah, it was way worse. He hadn't even killed Oorah; why had they named him that?!

Vok'Rul's claws brushed against his legs even as the interviewer made a shocked noise. "Well, your race certainly is warrior-like! What a name!" She didn't expect anything out of the ordinary. To her, it was simply an interesting name. Viktor thought about the arena, how the crowd bellowed his name with fervor every time he defeated an opponent. "Why did they name you that, Viktor? Or should I call you Kohgrash?"

The thought of the interviewer calling him Kohgrash made him sick. "Just Viktor is fine, thanks." He didn't want to tell her that for months, he had been desperate for anyone to say his birth name. "And uh, I guess it's a long story." That he'd have to heavily edit and dance over topics that would really make him freak out. He did not want to do that on TV.

The cameras were overbearing, and the people behind them were even more so. It didn't matter that Viktor could barely see them over the bright lights that reminded him a little too much of the arena, he could practically feel their curious gazes on him and Vok'Rul. It made the hair on his neck stand on end.

"We definitely have time," the interviewer joked to lighten the nervous mood. It didn't help at all. Viktor wrung his fingers together, the trembling in them never stopped but he tried his best at getting them to lie still on his lap.

Vok'Rul's look was both parts encouraging and vindictive, promising retribution for anyone who made him uncomfortable. Viktor swallowed past the lump in his throat. He had done this before. In the month between now and getting poked and prodded by a multitude of doctors, he had spoken to his therapist a handful of times. Getting past the initial hesitation had been difficult, but his therapist was kind - and not in the I-am-going-to-pity-you-till-the-day-I-die kind. Talking about it made things easier. Laying it out in the air made things easier.

"Well," he bolstered himself, straightening his shoulders. If he had faced Oorah, Flyhks, Ghhorrahs, Nhafka and Turrkn, and the ringmaster with little issue - he ignored the little thought that he had nightmares almost every night about them - he could do this interview. "It all started when the power went out at school."

***

HIS MAJESTY VOKKRA RULSHKKA AND 'KILLER OF CHAMPIONS' VIKTOR FRANSON EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW - 'One of the most touching interviews in my career' states a tearful Natasha Goldberg

ALIENS ARE REAL: The Kindness of Vokkra Rulshkka

THE MYTH OF BLOODTHIRSTY ALIENS - VOKKRA RULSHKKA AND HIS APPROACH TO HUMANITY'S FREEDOM

PEOPLE FOR PETS? An Insider's View on A1-308's Cruel and Unusual Imprisonment of Humankind

FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN VOKKRA RULSHKKA AND VIKTOR 'KOHGRASH' FRANSON - INNOCENT OR NOT? Stockholm Syndrome and its Symptoms

WHAT REALLY HAPPENED IN THE RING? An inquisitive approach to the story of Kohgrash

ALIENS DO NOT BELONG HERE

Reddit: r/A1-308: Is it possible Kohgrash fought all those creatures?

Viktor grumbled at the news articles on his phone, slapping it angrily onto the table. His head followed soon after, and he soaked up the chilliness of the wood underneath him. He knew that the fallout following his interview would be annoying, but he hadn't suspected it to be this bad. He supposed that's what he got for getting adopted by the leader of an entire planet.

"This is your fault," he told the object of his irritation, propping his chin on his arms and glaring up at Vok'Rul, who was hovering over his dad, watching him closely. Oskar was cooking up bacon, and the alien was insatiably curious about the meat. He had only eaten cow products so far. It was too bad he was a strict carnivore; Viktor would've loved to introduce him to a hamburger.

"What's that?" Vok'Rul said idly, looking away from the pan to glance at Viktor, only to snap his attention back to it when it made a particularly loud pop!

"If you weren't some big important leader guy, my name wouldn't be all over the news," Viktor grumbled. He tried to tell himself that he didn't care what people thought about him, but when they insisted he was lying about fighting animals twice his size and winning, it just rubbed him the wrong way. "I'd just be some sad kid who got fucked up on your planet."

"Language," Oskar said reflexively, smacking Vok'Rul's hand as he tried to pick up a piece. "Move it, Buster, these aren't done cooking, yet."

"I am not called Buster," he huffed in response, retreating to the table where Viktor sat, slumped.

"Kohgrash," he said gently, placing a heavy hand on the top of his skull. Viktor felt a wave of revulsion as he remembered what his name stood for. "Even if I were not Vokkra, I fear you would've been in the spotlight regardless. None of the other Vokkrus even considered mammals to be intelligent. We would've been at the forefront when we started communicating."

Viktor sighed into his arms. He knew that. He knew that they'd probably be doing this even if Vok'Rul wasn't a king. Maybe he wouldn't have suffered through a month of boring politics, but he probably would've done the interview. There was nothing he could do about it, now, though. Whining and complaining, even if it felt good, would do him no good.

"When will you go?" he asked in a small voice, muffled in his sweater. The blue one Vok'Rul had bought for him, way back when.

It had been barely three months since they arrived on Earth. Now that the alliance was still withstanding, people were slowly getting used to Vok'Rul's presence; at least, in the city where they lived in. They ogled the alien, sure, but they weren't outright recording them, talking with them, or, on one memorable occasion, touching Vok'Rul's tail (Viktor had to violently suppress the urge to throw his walker right at their face).

The first month had been a whirlwind of politics and business. Sitting in the meeting room with the world's leaders had lost its charm after the sixteenth meeting in the first week. Viktor hadn't been able to tear himself away from them, though; if Vok'Rul were to mess anything up - which he had, multiple times - Viktor was there to clean up the mess. He felt an odd sort of kinship with Rukka during those times.

There had been a time when Vok'Rul had forgotten to address one man with his appropriate title - honestly, Viktor would've messed up way earlier on than Vok'Rul had - and accused the alien of disrespecting Earth and its customs. That had caused some upset throughout the entire room; Vok'Rul had been nothing but respectful and to accuse him of such was idiotic.

"Forgive me, Your..." Vok'Rul had trailed off, voice tight with barely restrained anger.

"Excellency," the man had sniffed.

"Excellency," Vok'Rul had repeated, making the word sound like an insult. The man didn't seem to notice. "Keeping track of all these titles is rather difficult, as I am sure you must know." The thinly veiled insult had sent muffled laughter rippling across the room - the man had mistaken a title only a few minutes prior. The interaction had been broadcasted live and had certainly gained Vok'Rul some brownie points from the watching world, except, of course, from the man's country.

After that, though, he made sure to quietly remind Vok'Rul of any titles he was hesitating on. They made a pretty good team.

Viktor had spent the second month, barely settled into their new apartment, in and out of doctor's offices. It had been disorienting, and a little terrifying, to go from place to place and get poked at with needles and scanned with loud machines. The most important distinction, though, was that he was a human getting treated by human doctors, and while most of them had spoken to his dad rather than to him, he wasn't ignored or brushed off as some animal. It was a very much appreciated distinction.

His therapist told him he'd likely take months to 'get back to normal' - what he meant by that, Viktor had no idea; he was normal, he was just... a little jumpy, okay? - and to take things one at a time. So, he did just that.

Whenever they needed food, the three of them would go to the grocery store. It was a struggle walking to and from the store, but the physical therapy helped, and when they had gone the day before yesterday's interview, Viktor had barely felt out of breath and the ache in his legs was almost entirely gone.

When they had gone to buy a pair of phones for him and his dad, he had done that with ease. When Viktor needed to get out of the apartment lest he went crazy, they went to the park. It was only a handful of things they had done together, and while Viktor was grateful for the chance to do them - if someone had told him, a year ago, that he'd be back on Earth, best friends with his new 'owner,' he would've laughed right in their face - he was itching for more.

He didn't want Vok'Rul to leave, he had told Dr. Kraff in a hushed whisper. Explaining the way they had both put their lives on the line for each other solidified that. If Viktor wasn't on A1-308, who would protect Vok'Rul? If the alien wasn't on Earth, who would protect Viktor?

He was scared.

"Rukka gave me six months," was the alien's abnormally quiet reply. Viktor didn't move even when Oskar set a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon in front of him and cajoled him to eat.

"Let's go somewhere," he said suddenly, straightening up like someone had shocked him. The third month was upon them, and he wasn't going to sit around and mope the entire time. He wanted to do things with Vok'Rul. Fun things. No more politics, no more awful interviews, just pure, simple fun.

"Where?" Oskar said, pushing the plate closer. Viktor obediently picked up his plate, pulling it onto his lap to eat - he still couldn't bring himself to eat at a table; eating on the floor for over a year had left its mark on him.

"I dunno," he said, shoveling bacon into his mouth. He looked over at Vok'Rul, who was inhaling the bacon with gusto - and still looked regal doing it. "Maybe the park again?"

They had gone there only once, and only for a few minutes. Walking there and back had been enough exercise for Viktor that day, but it was really the people within the park that had prompted his retreat.

"Excellent idea," Vok'Rul praised. He praised Viktor whenever the teenager breathed.

"You sure, kid?" Oskar asked slowly, fork halfway to his mouth. Viktor nodded, his resolve stiffening.

There was snow on the ground, and it was a lot colder than it ever had been on A1-308 - barring the times they nearly froze to death in the arena before Lilac had gotten them heating pads, but Viktor tried not to think about that. His coat was warm. He looked up at Vok'Rul, squinting at him as they walked down the sidewalk to the park.

"Aren't you ever cold?" he asked him.

Vok'Rul lifted his shoulders in a shrug. His tail twitched as he took in their surroundings; it wasn't too often the alien got to explore outside of the apartment. "Not particularly, no. The elements have never affected Vokkrus."

"Look, it's that alien -" Viktor heard some whisper to their friend as they passed.

"Wow, I can't believe I actually saw it," came the whispered reply.

"No kidding, right? It's so weird."

Vok'Rul's claws settled on his shoulder, urging him forward, and it was only then that Viktor realized he had slowed his pace and that his hands were gripping his walker with such force that he feared it might shatter.

"I have heard worse things, Kohgrash," Vok'Rul whispered in his ear, voice toneless.

"But you don't need to hear them here," Viktor insisted. He kept walking. He couldn't fight anyone he felt like, not anymore. He told himself that he did not miss it.

"Comes with the job, I'm afraid."

Viktor huffed, but he didn't give any more protests. The walk to the park was tense; everyone looked at them like they were a traveling circus. Vok'Rul held himself regally, smiling, close-lipped, at any curious passerby. Which was everyone.

The park wasn't very populated, much to Viktor's relief. All he really wanted to do was walk around and take in the scenery, but the snowy sidewalks made that a little difficult. Viktor hadn't realized how difficult it was to move around when his legs didn't work their greatest, and snowy sidewalks were definitely an issue.

After he had slipped on a patch of hidden ice for the fifth time, only just able to catch himself on his walker, they had decided to stick to walking around town where the sidewalks were a little less dangerous. Unfortunately, this had the drawback of attracting much more attention than they would have in a secluded, tree-filled park.

"Don't you hate the way they stare?" Viktor said after glaring at a group of kids his age ogling them. They had the decency to look away, but he still felt their eyes on his back when they passed the group.

"I am quite used to it, my little Kohgrash," Vok'Rul said, brushing his claws against Viktor's hair. "Don't worry about it. If I could not handle some stares, how would I be able to handle managing an entire planet?"

"Rukka handles the planet," Viktor teased, knowing he was right. It was he who was uncomfortable with the stares.

"Hey!" Vok'Rul said, offended. "I like to believe I do something."

"You sign papers," he deadpanned.

"Hey," Oskar piped up, nudging Viktor's shoulder and pointing to a building across the street. Viktor looked over. "Didn't you want to show Vok'Rul some books?"

"Is this a bookstore?" Vok'Rul questioned, delighted.

"Library," Viktor clarified. "Come on! I wanna show you our books. They're not as cool, but..."

"I will be interested, regardless!"

Viktor grinned.