Kitsune

Akio carried the tiny mouse in his hands as he hurried home. It seemed to be dehydrated, listless and weak it had barely moved when he approached to pick it up. A movement caught Akio’s eye and he glanced up in time to see a shadow disappear between two trees.

He called after it. “Help, please, do you have a little water?”

The shadow hesitated, and Akio took a step closer. “Please, this little creature has been injured. She needs water. My flask is empty and it is a distance to my home. Please.”

The shadow emerged from the trees, revealing a tall thin figure, dark hair and pale skin barely showing beneath the scarf wrapped around her face. She pulled out her flask and allowed a few drops to fall into Akio’s outstretched palm.

“Thank you,” Akio said. “I am Akio.”

“Chiaki.” The young woman pulled the scarf away from her face and peered down at the little mouse. It shivered as it drank from Akio’s hand, and she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, folded it in two and placed it over the poor little creature.

“Do you often save the lives of small things?” Chiaki asked.

Akio laughed. “Only when the opportunity comes my way,” he said. “After all, if the larger creatures of the world cannot take care of the smaller, what use are we?” His thoughts turned to Sachiko, a lump forming in his throat as sorrow threatened to overwhelm him.

“Are you alright?” Chiaki noticed.

Akio began to nod his head then stopped.

“No,” he said. “I lost a dear friend yesterday.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Chiaki said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Akio looked at Chiaki. He did want to talk about it. He wanted to talk of Sachiko’s laugh, of the smile that lit up her eyes, and the gentle kiss she’d placed on his cheek the day before she’d died. But how did you tell someone you’d fallen in love with a creature from a folktale?

He shook his head, not trusting his voice.

“I understand,” Chiaki said.

Akio had to stop himself from shaking his head. Chiaki couldn’t possibly understand! There was so much that was wrong. The guilt he felt, that he’d been meeting Sachiko in the woods when he was supposed to be helping his father on the farm. And then yesterday he’d stayed behind to help his father when he should have been meeting Sachiko. There’d been a fox amongst his father’s chickens again. It hadn’t harmed the chickens, but it had stolen most of the eggs, and Father needed Akio’s help to prevent it happening again.

Sachiko must’ve come to the farm to look for him. She’d never done that before, it had been an unspoken agreement that they did not seek out the truth of each other’s lives. It made their meeting in the forest something special, sacred. He didn’t know why she’d come this time.

Akio hadn’t seen her, but his father must have. He pushed the thought away. When Akio had finally found Sachiko, curled up under the great tree, he thought she was napping. And then he’d got closer and seen the bushy red tail and the soft pointed ears. When he’d pulled on her shoulder she’d rolled back onto his lap and he’d gasped in horror as he saw her face, Sachiko’s beautiful face, with a pointed snout and a wet black nose in the centre of it. She was Kitsune, Fox Spirit, messenger of the Great Spirit Inari.

And she was dead.

Akio closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe deeply until the ill feeling that threatened to bring up his lunch had passed.

“You might want to loosen your grip there a little,” Chiaki’s voice broke through the pain and Akio looked down to see he was squeezing the little mouse.

“Oh my goodness, I am sorry little one.” The mouse squeaked up at him, and Akio gently patted its back with a finger.

“Oh, I have something else she might like.” Chiaki reached into her pocket and pulled out a biscuit, which she crumbled into Akio’s hand. The mouse nibbled at the crackers, eating them all up, before sitting up and squeaking a thank you. Akio and Chiaki laughed.

“I don’t think she was injured at all, I think she just knew you had a soft heart!” Chiaki said.

“I think you’re right.” Akio knelt, and opened his hand flat on the grass. The little mouse squeaked some more, jumped off Akio’s hand and darted towards the trees.

“Are you a traveller?” Akio asked, now the distraction of the mouse was gone.

Chiaki glanced back at him.

“No. Well, sort of,” she said. “I live not too far from here, a farm on the other side of the forest. But my younger sister went missing last night. She loves to play in the forest, and mother is worried that she’s got herself lost. But I cannot find her in any of her usual hiding places. You haven’t seen anyone, have you?”

Akio shook his head. His thoughts turned to Sachiko, but she was Kitsune. Her home was within the forest, not the other side of it.

“I’m sorry, no.”

Chiaki nodded. “Never mind then. Perhaps I should keep going.”

“Would you like some help? I live in the farm house just beyond that hill.” Akio pointed to the thatched roof, barely visible above the grassy hilltop. “I know this area. There are many caves and hiding places your sister might use, if she were caught out at night.”

“Really, you would help?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, I would appreciate it!!”

They walked in a companionable silence, as Akio led the way to the creek. Upstream there was a waterfall, with a cave behind it. Following the cliff around, they soon came to a number of rocky overhangs where Chiaki’s sister might hide.

As they walked, Akio found his mind returning to Sachiko. He’d held her for a time, but as the sun had set he knew he could not leave her body out in the open. In her half transformed state, he could not take her home, and there was no way to tell her family. As Kitsune, she lived in the other realm, a realm he had no idea how to access. He’d done all he could do, dug a shallow grave in the soft soil, and covered her body first with a layering of leaves and flowers, and then rocks, so that any animals exploring the forest at night might not disturb her.

“You were close?” Chiaki asked, breaking the silence.

Akio looked up startled. He had forgotten Chiaki’s presence for a moment, so deep were his thoughts.

“Sorry?”

“You were very close to your friend?”

He nodded. “Yes. She was my closest friend.”

“She?” Chiaki had stopped walking, and turned to watch Akio. “Did you love her?”

“Yes,” Akio said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked to the ground. He did not want to talk of Sachiko anymore. It was too painful.

“She was lucky to have one such as you.”

Akio shrugged. “I don’t know about that,” he said.

“I do,” Chiaki said. “One who cares for small creatures, who helps strangers in need.” She smiled at Akio. “It is clear you have a good heart. I hope to be loved by one such as you one day.”

Akio and Chiaki continued searching, spent the afternoon searching through the wooded areas around his farm. They searched every place but to no avail, Chiaki’s sister was not to be found anywhere.

“I’d better return to my home,” Akio said as the sun began to set. “My father will be worried.”

Chiaki nodded. “Of course. Thank you for your help, it is greatly appreciated.”

Akio nodded. “I hope you are able to find your sister,” he said and gave a little bow. As he did, Sachiko’s necklace fell forward out of his shirt.

“Where did you get that?” Akio heard the catch in Chiaki’s voice before he saw the fierce look of anger in her eye.

His hand reached up to touch the charm, a fox carved into a stone disk, on a leather chain. Akio had taken it as a token, to remember her by.

“That was my sister’s!” Chiaki’s eyes were wide in surprise, but as he looked at her, her eyes narrowed. “You said you hadn’t seen her! What have you done with her?”

“Chiaki-san, please. I spoke the truth, I have seen no girl…”

Before he had time to react Akio found himself on his back, his arms pinned by Chiaki’s own, a low growl emanating from the back of her throat.

“You are Kitsune,” Akio said. He spoke in a whisper, so soft he wasn’t sure he’d actually said the words aloud.

“Yes,” Chiaki said. “Now where is Sachiko-san?”

Akio shook his head. His fear dissipated, replaced once more by the heaviness in his chest. Tears pooled in his eyes, and he looked up at Chiaki. “She died. She was coming to see me, and I was late, she must have come looking for me.”

“How did she die? Where is her body?”

“I buried her, in the glade where we met."

As he spoke, a gunshot echoed across the valley and Chiaki jolted her head to scan the surroundings.

“Who is that? Who is shooting?”

“I, my father, he…”

“Your father shot Sachiko?”

Akio knew that as a son he should be loyal to his father, who had thought only of protecting his stock, but with the loss of his dearest friend he could not. He nodded.

“Then you are equally to blame.” Chiaki stood, pulling Akio with her. “You will come with me and you will tell Inari and the rest of the Kitsune what happened to our sister.”

Akio could not object. Since laying Sachiko’s body down in the glade he had wanted to tell her family, and though he was terrified of facing Inari, he knew what must be done.

The walk was long. Though Akio could have crossed through the forest in a day and a night he walked with Chiaki for two long days before they reached the outskirts of her home. In that time, she refused to speak with him. They walked long into the night, and when finally she permitted him to rest she lit a fire and slept opposite, curled up on her side in fox form, her back to him. She awoke before dawn to continue, sharing only a small piece of meat jerky for his breakfast. Though he tried to talk, she did not respond. Akio wasn’t sure if she could not speak to him whilst in animal shape, or if she simply did not want to talk. At some point they had crossed the boundaries between his world and hers, and he was not sure he would ever find his way home again without her assistance.

As the sun began to set on the third day, Akio caught his first glimpse of another fox. It slunk through the bushes beside them, a flash of a nose, and twitch of the ears, and glimpse of a tail all he caught as they walked. Soon after, another fox appeared, and in no time at all, Akio realised they were surrounded by foxes, either side, ahead and behind. Chiaki spoke to no one, walking ahead of him on the track, leading him ever onwards to Inari.

The Great Spirit was tall. Far taller than his father, who himself was considered a tall man in their village. Akio peered up into Inari’s face. Framed by black hair that reached almost to the ground, Inari’s face was long and narrow. Neither male nor female, Inari was a sight to behold. Her eyes were close set, as Sachiko’s had been, and the anger in them set Akio’s whole body trembling.

“Inari, Daimyojin,” Akio said, dropping to one knee and bowing his head.

“You bring a human to us, Chiaki-san?”

Chiaki knelt beside Akio, her position mirroring his. Akio saw her nod out of the corner of his eye, before standing. He did not dare do the same.

“This one knew Sachiko,” she said, holding forth Sachiko’s necklace as evidence. “He saw her die. His father shot her.”

A trembling filled the air, and Akio felt the ground shake along with it.

“The farmer has broken his vow? He shoots at the Kitsune, after centuries of peace between us?”

“Please Inari-Sama,” Akio lifted his head and spoke, though he dared not make eye contact with inari. “My father had reason.”

“Silence!” Inari’s voice roared through the clearing, echoing back as it bounced off the valley walls. “There has been a long standing agreement between the Kitsune and the Takeda family. Are you not Takeda Akio-chan?”

Akio nodded. “I am.”

“And did your father shoot one of ours, and thus break his family’s ancient promise??”

“He did, but…”

“There are no excuses for breaking a vow. There are no excuses for murder. In the absence of your father, you must face the punishment for such a crime.”

Akio nodded. He had no idea what the punishment was, but he knew that he could not leave without facing some sort of trial. He also knew that when he returned he would stand up to his father, and somehow make him believe that the old ones were still about.

“Chiaki-san, take him to Chinoike.”

Akio heard Chiaki gasp, but still she pulled him to his feet. His mind was scrambled and it took him some time to realise what Inari had said.

“Chinoike. That is Blood Pond, right?” His heart sank as she shot him another look of terror.

“I am sorry, Akio-san,” she whispered.

“What’s going on?” he asked. But she would not answer, and the brief glance at her stone set face sent a bolt of terror shooting through his body. She led him through the forest, the trees growing close on either side.

“Please, Chiaki, what is happening?”

She shook her head, but when they stepped out into another clearing Akio’s heart sank. He closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer, a message of sorrow and love to his father. Before him was a pond of steaming water, blood red. It was a natural hot spring, he recognised them from those scattered around the land around his home, but this was not one for bathing. No. This was one of the famous Jigoken, the Hells. Anyone who entered that water would be boiled alive.

“Please Inari sama.” He turned to face the spirit. “My father did not know the Kitsune still existed, if he had known of you he would never have shot at one of your own.” A tear slid down Akio’s cheek. “I am so sorry for Sachiko-san’s death. If I could take it back, I would.” He turned to Chiaki. “You believe me. You heard me speak of Sachiko. I loved her. I never knew she was Kitsune, not until the end, when I found her…” He swallowed, as sorrow and fear threatened to overwhelm him. He needed to focus.

Inari held up a hand and the throng of foxes hushed. She began to speak.

“Takeda Akio-chan. You stand before us, to face up to the equally heinous crimes of murder and broken agreements…”

“Chiaki!” Akio called again, struggling to see her in the crowd. “Please. You told me she was lucky to have such love. You said you wished for the same.”

But she turned away.

Inari had not stopped her speech. “The punishment for death is death…”

Panic ripped Akio’s chest. “Please Inari-sama. The foxes were stealing our eggs, and Father had had enough, he…”

Inari stopped, and peered down at Akio. “The Kitsune do not steal eggs from those we have an agreement with.”

“I know! I know. I am not saying that your people stole our eggs, but father and I both saw a fox escaping from my father’s chicken house with an egg in his mouth. Father tried everything to keep him out, and he tried to trap him too, but we couldn’t, and then father had just had enough.” The words came out as a blur, as Akio struggled to tell all he could whilst Inari seemed to be paying attention.

The Great Spirit’s head shook side to side. “Impossible. There are no foxes in these lands but the Kitsune, and the Kitsune do not leave this place until they have received their human shape, when they know our laws and promises. What you saw was imagined.”

“It was not.” Akio found his fear gave him strength to face the fearsome god. “I know what I saw, Inari-Sama, and it was a fox stealing our eggs. Not once, but several times over.” A movement caught his eye and he turned as a fox slunk away. “In fact, it’s markings were just like that one.”

Inari turned to where Akio pointed. The creeping fox was in perfect position for Akio to recognise the unusual markings, white fur covering his hind legs, with a white stripe down his tail, meeting the black tip.

“STOP!” The sound thundered across the group, and every fox froze. Every fox, but one.

“Itachi-kun! Here! Now!”

The fox in question stilled. He turned, ears back against his head, tail drooping between his legs.

“Tell me why this human claims he saw you on his land, taking his father’s eggs?”

Itachi glanced at Akio, and back at Inari. His legs folded beneath him as he flattened his body against the earth, ears and tail squeezed even closer to his body. Inari seemed to grow ever taller as Akio watched.

“Does he speak true?” Inari asked.

“Yes.” Itachi could scarce be heard, even in the stillness of all who watched. It was as though none of them breathed for fear of missing out on what was about to happen.

“Why did you take the eggs?”

Itachi slunk ever lower to the ground. “I thought to trick the human. Sachiko-san and I have such similar markings, I thought he would mistake me for her, and refuse to see her again.”

“You commited a crime against the humans, and intended for Sachiko-san to take the blame?” though Inari’s voice remained soft the anger was still clear, and it made her even more terrifying because of it.

“Sachiko-san told me she had met a human. She said she might stay in the human realm with this one. I… I didn’t want her to go.”

Akio’s heart almost broke at Itachi’s words. He knew the folklore of the Kitsune, nearly everyone did, though few still believed the tales. Sachiko would have pretended to be human for his sake, and in doing so would have cut off links with her own family. Tears began to well in his eyes again, and he let them fall.

“And how did you leave this place? How did you get into the human’s world,” Inari asked.

Itachi cowered ever lower. Akio was not sure he’d ever seen such fear in a creature’s eyes.

“I followed Sachiko-san.”

“You followed Sachiko-san. Even though you had not yet earned the right to take human form and leave this realm.”

“Hai.”

“Did you know that a Kitsune is not to tell a human the truth of her identity? That should she meet one, she is to pretend that she too is human.”

Itachi shook his head. “I did not.”

“No, you did not. Because you have been too lazy to learn our ways, you have not yet learnt all that is necessary to know before entering the human realm,” Inari said. “You followed Sachiko into the human realm, and broke our sacred promise with the Takeda family. Why? So you would not lose Sachiko?” Inari shook her head. “And now she is lost to us all.” Inari turned back to Akio.

“Go home, young man. Tell your father his eggs will be safe from foxes. Tell him the culprit is punished and will not be returning to your world.”

Akio nodded. He doubted his father would believe such tales, not without proof.

Chiaki stepped forward.

“I will lead you home,” she said.

The journey home was shorter; a mere afternoon’s walk found Akio in familiar surrounds.

“I am sorry,” Chiaki began. “When I saw you wore my sister’s charm I felt only anger. I should have listened.” She held out her hand. “Take this, to remember her by.”

Akio looked down at the necklace in her palm, grateful to be allowed to keep this one memento.

“Thank you,” he began, looking up. But Chiaki was gone, and the last that Akio saw of her was the flash of a tail, disappearing into the undergrowth.

Akio did as Inari bade him, and told his father of Sachiko and the Kitsune. As expected, Akio’s father did not believe the tale, until a knock at the door several nights later found Chiaki, carrying a basket lined with fox fur, and a dozen fresh eggs.

“Inari sends her deepest apologies,” she said. “And wishes to renew the ancient promises between our families with this gift.” Akio stood in the hallway, watching for his father’s reaction. As the older man accepted the basket, Akio caught Chiaki’s eye, and the two shared a smile.

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First published in Insignia Vol 1: Japanese Fantasy Stories in 2013.