Fox Tales

He flattened his ears, tail twitching irritably. The Faire spread all around them, brightly lit with torches and bright glowing orbs of youki. There were people everywhere: talking and laughing, seemingly without a care in the world. The noise was deafening. The kit hated it.

A few feet away, Kuronue was engaged in an animated discussion with some scruffy, horned youkai. The silver Youko wanted nothing more than to leave, but he couldn't go without Kuronue.

"Boy!" Now the winged youkai beckoned to him with a grin. "Come here, boy." The kit obediently went to him. "Look, kid. This here is Yomi. He needs a little thing like you to get something for him."

He nodded solemnly. Yomi knelt down in front of him with a friendly smile. "What's your name?"

He shrugged eloquently. Kuronue patted him on the head as Yomi rose, dusting of his pants. Which, the kit noted, was a pointless action: all of his clothing was stained, the dirt ingrained so deeply in the cloth that no amount of washing would get it out. He could hardly keep from wrinkling his nose in disgust. Not that he was in any position to judge. A glance at his own clothing proved it to be somewhat worse for the wear, though not as bad as Yomi's. Or Kuronue's, for that matter.

"All right." Yomi turned to leave, gesturing for the kit to follow. The kitsune reluctantly trailed after Yomi, casting frequent glances back at Kuronue until his friend was swallowed by the crowd. The horned youkai led him to the far eastern corner of the Faire, where the more powerful youkai visiting from afar erected their tents. Yomi led him through the sea of tents, moving quickly lest they arouse the suspicion of the guards surrounding the tents of their respective masters. All the way to the middle of the makeshift encampment they went, until suddenly Yomi's head jerked from side to side before grabbing the kit by the scruff of his neck and hauling him into the shadowed space between two of the largest tents present.

"Nanda..?" the kit hissed angrily, trying to jerk away. Yomi growled softly and cuffed the boy, none to gently. "Do you want to be caught by the guards?" he demanded angrily. "If they catch us..." He shuddered dramatically. "You'll survive long enough to regret it; then you'll die."

The silver Youko laid his ears back. "Baka! If it's so dangerous, why are we here?"

Yomi's lips compressed to a thin line. "Because what I- we're- after is worth the risk." Now he licked his lips, eyes shining with greed. "This tent-" he gestured to their right, "belongs to Shukkaido, one of the most wealthy and powerful demons in the Makai." The kit didn't miss the fact that Yomi rated wealth above power. "In his tent this very moment is a diamond the size of your fist that supposedly contains all his power. If I- we- had that, the Makai would be mine! Ours, I mean."

The kit gave him a blank stare. Yomi shook his head, exasperated. "Never mind. Look, all I need you to do is slip into the tent, grab the diamond, and get out." The kitsune nodded. "Some buddies of mine will create a distraction so you can slip past the guards." Yomi clapped his hands together lightly. "You understand? Good. Now, all you need to do is watch. I'll give the signal, and you'll run in, grab it, then run back to where Kuronue is staying." His mouth tightened. "But don't give it to Kuronue, even if he begs. He'll just keep it all for himself."

The kitsune rolled his eyes, wanting to laugh. Like Yomi wouldn't keep it all, given the chance. But he suspected that Yomi's "buddies" would skin him alive if he even thought about not giving them their share, Kuronue included. The kit wasn't sure what Kuronue was getting out of all of this, but he hoped it was a lot. That way, they wouldn't have to run around all the time. Maybe they would get a place in a city somewhere. He'd heard that the capital of Raizen's territory was a nice place to live.

Yomi slipped away, and the kit settled down, lying on his stomach on the trampled grass. At first the sound of footsteps, whether guards or the youkai who employed them, caused him to tense, ears swiveling stiffly from side to side, golden eyes wide and alert. Eventually, though, he relaxed, not even bothering to look unless the footsteps came too close. The almighty Shukkaido fellow didn't once return to his tent. He blinked and yawned, wondering when Yomi's buddies would create their distraction...

Loud cursing awoke him, and he added a few choice curses of his own as he scrambled to his feet, rubbing his eyes. He hadn't meant to drift off! He was ready to bolt, but a clear look at the brawl going on near Shukkaido's tent gave him pause. It took him a moment to realize this was Yomi's "distraction." But where was Yomi's signal? He peered worriedly at the fighters, all of whom were either guards or scruffy fellows, indistinguishable from Yomi except for a few warts, and give or take a few horns. Well, most of them were a great deal uglier than Yomi, but just as filthy. Still, he saw no sign of his horned employer. He stood indecisively for several moments, watching the fray, before deciding that Yomi's signal had been lost in the din caused by the fight.

Ears laid back, he darted around to the front of the tent and slipped inside, unnoticed by the men fighting all around him. It was, he noted with a little shock, a silk tent, smooth to the touch. Well, he supposed if he were as wealthy and powerful as Shukkaido supposedly was, he could waste money on silk tents, too. The inside was no less impressive, with colorful rugs strewn across the ground, and a large, four-poster bed in one corner. The inside walls of the tent were decorated with fanciful weaves in bright reds and greens and golds, depicting bloody battles. Shaking his head in wonder, he circled the room, peering in chests and poking at things until he located what he was after.

Yomi was right about one thing. It was every bit as big as he'd said... maybe even a little bigger. Lying in a small, tooled chest on a black velvet pillow, it sparkled and glowed in the light like nothing he'd ever seen before. Small mouth agape, he carefully lifted it from its resting place, holding it up close to his face to get a better look. He could very well imagine that this multi-faceted jewel could contain all the power of that Shukkaido fellow.

He cradled the diamond against his torso with one arm and closed the chest. Ears perked to catch sound better, he turned to go-

-and ran into a pair of thick, muscular legs. He fell backwards onto his bottom with a surprised squeak.

"Hmm. What do we have here?" Wide golden eyes traveled up... and up... and up... till finally a round, hard face came into view. "A thief?" Small eyes narrowed as he crouched to examine the frightened kitsune. "Kinda young, aren't you?"

"Ummmm...." Yomi hadn't told him anything like this would happen!

The man shook his head. "Never mind." He reached out and poked the kit with one thick finger. "Pretty jewel, isn't it? Bet ya don't know what its for."

"Shukkaido keeps all his power in it!" the kit responded quickly. "And... whoever has it will have Shukkaido's power, too." The big man shook with laughter, rocking back on his heels. "You think so, kid?"

"Yeah. Yomi told me so," he said stiffly.

"Well, that Yomi fellow was wrong, kid. That diamond ain't nothin' more than it seems to be- a pretty ornament. All it does is distract people- make 'em think they oughta be goin' after some over-sized diamond, while what they really wanted gets 'em from behind. Ya see?"

The kit shook his head in confusion. "But... if that’s true, then where does Shukkaido keep all his power?"

"Well, inside a' him, with all the other stuff he needs ta survive." The man gave him a considering look. "Do you know who I am?"

"Um... a guard?"

He laughed loudly. "Boy, I am Shukkaido."

He was kept in the tent for about three days, as far as he could figure. His prison was a fair-sized cage, large enough for him to stretch out everyway with room to spare, with cushions and a quilt. He was fed three meals a day, and often when Shukkaido was in the tent, the powerful lord would coax him into a conversation. He never asked who Yomi was, or who else was involved in the attempted theft.

On the third evening, Shukkaido sat cross-legged in front of the cage and regarded the kit with a faint smile. "We're leaving tomorrow morning. That cage of yours is kinda awkward, so we're leaving it behind. I'll let ya ride wi' me."

The kit smiled brightly. "Where are we going?" His tail swished jauntily at the prospect of getting out of the cage and outside. He wasn't particularly fond of nature, but anything was better than being cooped up in a cage all day long.

"My home, of course." He grinned at the kit, revealing a large gap between his two crooked front teeth. "Its a nice place. You'll like it. Big palace, with lots of fields and forests surrounding it." He nodded empathetically. The kit had a feeling this was one of his favorite subjects. "All my personal property is fenced in. Twenty square miles surrounded by tall fences, patrolled by my hand-picked sentries. Beautiful country, too. Mostly untouched forests, with a few fields."

The kit contrived to look suitably impressed, though it meant as little to him as complicated mathematical equations, or "that time of the month," which, according to his older brothers, was the reason behind every female's bad mood.

So that was how he found himself riding in Shukkaido's personal carriage, standing up to peer out the window at the passing countryside. Two other youkai were in the carriage besides himself and Shukkaido; a couple of toady fellows, whom the kit figured must be Shukkaido's advisors. Though whether he actually listened to them was another matter altogether.

"Like bloody hell I will!" Shukkaido growled at them. "One thousand pounds in exchange for an alliance with some stupid world that nobody in the Makai has ever even dealt with? Ever even heard of? And they won't lend a hand if I get in an armed conflict, but they want me to if they screw up? Are you men completely out of your minds?"

"Shukkaido-sama," one of the toadies murmured, dry washing his hands. "The Reikai would make a valuable ally. Think... they lord over the dead. Ally yourself with them, and I'm sure they could make some, ah, special arrangements for your soul... Surely lending them a few of your underlings every once in awhile is worth it..."

"I'm sure you're looking into your own soul," Shukkaido sneered. "What did they offer you for setting up this alliance? Wealth? Immortality?" He smirked nastily, leaning back against the carriage bench. "Wise men make plans for their future; stupid men plan for what comes after life."

The kit's ears twitched spasmodically as he tried to follow their conversation. Reikai? After-life? He was sorely puzzled. His father and siblings had never spoken of such things. Now Shukkaido ended the conversation with a dismissive wave of his hand and a few words. Smiling at the kit, he gestured the boy closer. Kurama turned away from the window and walked gracefully along the bench to where Shukkaido sat, then curled up trustingly in his arms. The Makai lord stroked his long silky hair, his soft murmurs lolling the kitsune into slumber.

He awoke to find himself cradled in one of the toady's arms, in a large courtyard. A huge fortress loomed in front, unrelieved gray stone rising starkly in contrast to the bright greens of the fields and forest surrounding it. He squirmed impatiently in the toady's arms till the youkai let him down, admonishing the kit to stay close. Though how he'd wander far from the toady while he insisted on holding the kit's hand was beyond him.

The toady (who probably didn't have a name, anyway, the Youko decided) led him into the fortress at a pace fast enough that the kit was hard pressed to keep up short of breaking into a run. Toady was grumbling under his breath, all but dragging the kit when he began to lag, more interested in the tapestry-covered walls and suits of armor than in wherever Toady was taking him. He tried to tug his hand free, and Toady swung him up into his arms.

"Take that to storage." Shukkaido's voice boomed. The kit perked up, ears swiveling to catch Shukkaido's voice. The stocky figure strode about the hall, shouting orders in that booming voice of his. He resumed his struggles with a vengeance, and Toady barely maintained his grip. By the time Toady had wove his way through the industrious servants to Shukkaido’s side, he held the kit only by the tail, and no amount of kicking or biting could convince him to let go.

Shukkaido’s wide, bluff face broke into a grin at the site of them. “Ah, there you are! I was wondering what took you so long.” He lifted the kit from the waist into his arms. “Whaddaya think, kid?”

His ears perked up. “This place is really great!” Shukkaido looked pleased at the kit’s enthusiastic tone. “It must have taken a really long time to build. Where did you get all that neat stuff? Was it really expensive? Do you have lots of treasure? Were you ever a thief like Kuronue?” He paused to take a breath.

Shukkaido laughed. “It is a nice place, isn’t it?” His gaze wandered to some point over Toady’s shoulder. “Worked really hard to get where I am today.” His eyes returned to the kit. “It takes skill to come as far in the world as I have.” The silver Youko tried hard not to look too disinterested. Instead, his thoughts wandered back to Kuronue. Where was his friend? Was Kuronue looking for him?

As if sensing he’d lost the kit’s attention, Shukkaido shifted him and cleared his throat. “Dinner’ll be soon, kid.” He glanced at Toady. “Clean him up, will you?”

So the kit found himself back in Toady’s care, much to his disgruntlement. He got no satisfaction from the equally unhappy expression on Toady’s face. “Do this, do that,” he whined as Shukkaido strode away. “Carry it. Bathe it.” He wrinkled his nose at the kit, who tried again to bite the hands holding him. “I don’t know why he bothers.” He grabbed the kit’s tail and let go of his body. The little Youko gave an indignant squeal as he swung upside-down while Toady took down a flight of steps. The kit noticed it got warmer the further down they went. It turned out to be a bathing room, with natural springs to serve as baths. The smell of sulfur permeated the air.

Half an hour and a fierce scrub later, the kit sat cross-legged at the edge of one of the pools, naked, while Toady glared down at him. “’Get him clean clothes’ indeed!” He snorted loudly. “As if we have anything to fit a runt like you. I say, you can stay in those clothes for a few more days.” His laugh sounded nasty. The kit laid back his ears and growled.

”Meirou-san!” Toady turned around to look down his bulbous, warty nose at the messenger. “Shukkaido-sama says to get your ass up to the dining hall now, and bring the little one with you.” The messenger, an oily fellow, smirked as he looked the kit over. “You better get some clothes on him, Meirou-san. Shukkaido-sama will have your hide if you bring him to the feast in nothing but his skin.”

In the end, his “clean clothes” consisted of his own pants (dunked, soaped, wrung out and put on all in five minutes), the smallest undershirt that could be found (trimmed to serve as a make-shift tunic), and the smallest belt that could be found to clinch the shirt around his waist (small as it was, it still wrapped around his waist two and a half times). So dressed, a nervous Toady carried him back up and to the feasting hall, where dozens of gaudily- and richly, the kit supposed- dressed youkai sat at one gigantic table, talking and laughing while they ate. At the head sat Shukkaido, and that as where Toady presently took him. He bowed with an obsequious smile, all the while muttering apologies for not having found suitable clothing for the kit.

Shukkaido shrugged dismissively, gesturing for Toady to place the kit on the table next to Shukkaido’s plate. The powerful lord frowned at Toady when the youkai lingered and Toady- Meirou- scurried off. Then he grinned at the kit. “Help yourself to whatever’s on my plate, kid.”

The kitsune did so with great relish. “There’s a lot of people here,” he muttered around a mouthful of meat. “Is it some sort of celebration?”

Shukkaido grinned. “Nothing too special,” he said with a shrug. “Just a little feasting before the hunt tomorrow.”

“Hunt? Whatcha hunting?” He was mildly curious.

He smiled. “Thieves.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We let the dogs sniff at ‘em, then let ‘em loose in the forests. We set out after ‘em an hour later.” He grinned. “We do this every six months. Go out an’ catch some worthless youkai, then hunt ‘em down. Great fun. Never had one escape us yet, an’ we’ve been doin’ it for years an’ years.” He nodded empathetically as he shoveled food into his mouth.

The kit’s ears twitched briefly. He felt he should be noticing something, but whatever it was eluded him. He turned his attention instead to the mug of ale placed before him by a drunken servant. It took both hands to lift it. He sipped gingerly, and then gagged at the taste. A chuckling Shukkaido patted him on the head.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. No one expects you to like alcohol at your age. WATER!” The kit jumped.

The rest of the feast was a blur to the kit. People talked incessantly all around, but it meant nothing to him. He applied himself to the food like a man at his last meal.

The next day dawned bright and clear. Not a cloud was to be seen in the endless blue of the morning sky. The kit yawned as he observed the crowd gathered in the clearing by Shukkaido’s fortress from his perch on the lord’s shoulder. He could also see the thieves: a sad lot, filthy and obviously starving. He gave a start, spotting several of Yomi’s friends among the soon-to-be-prey. The scruffy thieves cast fearful glances at their captors as they huddled together as far away from the guards as possible.

Shukkaido patted his side. “Easy, kid. It’ll all be over soon.” The kit’s ears twitched uneasily. He had a funny feeling in his gut, like something wasn’t right. A few yards away he could make out Toady, staring in their direction with a smirk. Staring at Shukkaido, probably, though as far as the kit knew he had no reason to be smiling.

Horns blew nearby, and Shukkaido paced leisurely towards the thieves, one hand going up to balance the little Youko on his shoulder. As they got closer, the stench of the unfortunate victims assailed his sensitive nose.

“Today is your lucky day,” Shukkaido announced loudly. Silence descended on the clearing. “You thieves have a chance to escape my justice. All of you,” Shukkaido’s eyes slid briefly to the kit, “have attempted to steal from me. But I’ll give you this chance. My hunting hounds,” he gestured to the vicious, slavering red-eyed monsters, “will get your scent, then we’ll release you into the forest. If you somehow manage to escape my hounds and hunting parties, there will be no pursuit off my territory.” But if what Shukkaido said was true, none of them would escape.

The thieves, not knowing the hunting prowess of the lord and his dogs, shouted that the lord was merciful, indeed. Some fell to their knees. Some, the kit noted with shock and more than a little disgust and contempt, wept.

“I see no reason to delay further,” Toady murmured at Shukkaido’s side, glaring malevolently up at the kit. Shukkaido nodded, one hand reaching up to rub the kit behind the ears.

“You’re right.” He raised his voice. “Bring the dogs over. Lets get this hunt started!” The hunters cheered wildly as the snarling hounds (which were tall enough to top the kit twice over, and with eyebrow ridges and fangs long enough to hang out of their mouths looked nothing like any dog he’d ever seen) were brought over to sniff the thieves.

The thieves shrank fearfully away from the hounds, but the animals were well-trained, and did nothing but sniff. They knew what came next. Suddenly, Shukkaido waved one of the handlers over. “Don’t forget ta let ‘em get a whiff of this one.” And to the kitsune’s shock, Shukkaido grabbed him by the belt and dangled him in front of one of his beasts.

With a frightened squeal, the kit vainly batted at the dog, trying to keep it (and its large jaws) away from him. When the handler pulled the animal back, Shukkaido passed the kit to him. “Take this one and put ‘im with the others.” Then Shukkaido gave him a fond smile and a pat on his head before walking away.

The handler tucked the stunned, unresisting kit under his arm and took him over to where the other thieves were huddling. He was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground at the edge of the group, nearest the forest.

”Psst, kid.” The kit’s ears swiveled to catch the oddly accented voice. A man, filthy as the rest, crouched beside him. “You’re one ‘a Yomi’s, aren’t ya?” The kit nodded. “I saw ya with him. Nein desu. What in the nine hells is goin’ on?”

The kit explained. “You mean we’re gonna be hunted down like… like animals?!”

The Youko shrugged. No need to state the obvious.

Nein rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I’m pretty sure Yomi won’t just leave all of us here. I bet if we get far enough, Yomi’ll have people ready to rescue us.”

The kit was pretty sure, too… pretty sure that Yomi would, in fact, do no such thing. Funny, how adults were always saying they knew best, and yet seemed completely clueless at the times when knowing best was the most important thing. He kept his silence, however, nodding to Nein’s words absently.

One of the dogs howled, and the kit shivered. Nein stood on his toes, peering over the crowd. “Looks like they’re gonna let us go, kid! Get on your feet!”

The kitsune hastily stood, futilely brushing at the dirt on his pants. “Stay as close as you can,” Nein instructed. “As soon as the horn sounds, you an’ me, we’ll run that way.” He pointed westward. The kit nodded obediently.

A single loud, clear note rang out in the morning stillness. Suddenly, dozens of frantic youkai surged all around him, not caring if they trampled the littlest of them in their haste to get away. The little Youko, not wanting to be trampled or left behind, dashed in the direction he thought was west, his small form weaving quickly through the legs of the other youkai. He was, he noted with surprise, a fast runner once he was out of the crowd; he reached the safety of the trees with the others at his heels.

His heart pounded in his chest like a battering ram as he ran blindly through the woods, stumbling, sometimes falling, always getting back up to keep running. His surroundings were a blur. His breath came in ragged pants. His feet were sore, bruised and bleeding. But run he did.

And came close to colliding with a stocky pair of legs as Nein stepped out from behind a tree directly into his path. He tripped in his efforts to avoid Nein, and lay on the ground, gasping for air, eyes wide and blank.

“Easy, kid.” Nein lifted him by the shirt and set him on his feet. “Where’d you go? We’ve been out almost half an hour.”

The kit nearly collapsed. Three hours?! He’d been running for three hours? Awareness flooded through him. His mouth was dry, his slight form drenched in sweat though the day was cool, and his feet were on fire with pain.

Nein, taking pity on the poor kit, lifted the little Youko into his arms. “You look awful. I’ll carry you till Yomi comes for us.” Stupid as he was, the kit thought that Nein had an unnaturally large heart.

Being carried, the kit decided, was far more pleasant than running. His feet still throbbed, but at least he wasn’t still on them. Nein was fast, but his gait was graceless, to say the least. All the bouncing around was beginning to make the kit feel queasy, and dizzy besides.

“Kid!” Nein gasped, stumbling to an abrupt heart. “You hear that?” The kit did hear it then, the distant braying of Shukkaido’s hounds. They sounded like they were coming closer. “Looks like our hour is up, kid.”

The kit bit his lower lip. “How fast do you think they can run?”

“Not as fast as us, I hope.” Nein sounded so optimistic, the kit nearly laughed aloud. Did he really believe they could outrun those big, mean, scary looking, powerful animals? They’d probably outrun faster youkais than Nein. Or did he still believe Yomi was going to rescue them? Such blind faith, the kit thought, was pathetic, especially where a dishonest fellow like Yomi was concerned. The kit didn’t even put that much faith in Kuronue, though the thief was his mentor and idol. And when compared to Kuronue, Yomi wasn’t reliable at all… or a good thief, for that matter. Kuronue would never have botched a job that badly.

That made him wonder. Was Kuronue thinking of him? Did he ever wonder what had happened to the kit? Had he killed Yomi for being such a fool? The kit would have, had he been Kuronue.

They fled for hours, the hounds’ braying a constant noise in the background, always too close for comfort. The kit figured that they must have been hunting other prey, those stupid enough to stay close to Shukkaido’s fortress. Well, all the better for those who were smart enough to get away.

Suddenly Nein stumbled, and fell to his knees. The kit tumbled out of his arms, landing on his side in the dirt. “Eh…. Nani? Daijoubu?” He stood and shook the dirt from him, absently plucking a twig from his hair.

Nein breath came in ragged gasps. “I- I don’t think I can…” He began to cough. Concerned, the kit tottered to him on uncertain feet and placed a small hand on his cheek. “You’d better get up.” He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like the barking was louder. Were they getting closer? “Oi, how long d’you think it’ll be before they give up?”

Nein turned large, puppy-like brown eyes on the kit. “Maybe… it doesn’t make sense that they’d do it for more than… a few days.” One trembling hand reached up to cover the kit’s on his cheek.

The kit moved close enough to twine slender, pale arms around Nein’s neck. “C’mon, Nein. We can do it.”

“Aa.” He nodded decisively and lifted the kit into his arms as he stood. “Don’t worry, sweet. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know.” Actually, the kit wasn’t so sure Nein could keep him safe. But discouraging Nein probably wouldn’t be such a good idea. Encouraging, however… Maybe they would survive.

.

Darkness found them both gazing up into the night. “They’re close,” Nein murmured quietly. He needn’t have said anything. The kit shivered fearfully at each snarl, each howl. All day long, and yet as far as he could tell the hounds were still going strong. “We need to find somewhere safe to rest. I can hardly stand. I don’t think I could run anymore without a little sleep.”

“What do we do, then? Hide in the trees?” he asked dryly.

Nein’s brilliant grin surprised him. “Of course! Great idea! If we climb high enough, they won’t be able to reach us!” He studied the surrounding trees thoughtfully. “All we need to do is find a tree high enough.”

There was, the kit felt, a fatal flaw in that plan. But he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Nein, however, didn’t seem to feel the same. He picked out a particularly tall tree, one which the kit wasn’t certain they could climb, much less the dogs.

“Ne, Nein… are you sure about this?”

“Sure I’m sure.” His face was grim. “Here ya go.” He lifted the kit high enough to reach a handhold. The little Youko latched on to the tree, and Nein let go. He whimpered softly, the bark scraping his hands as he scrabbled for more hand and foot holds. “The branch is just a little bit higher,” Nein said coaxingly as the kit pulled himself higher. Finally his groping hand landed on the side of the thick branch. Unfortunately, there were no places closer to the branch where he could put his foot. Gritting his teeth, he launched himself at it, clawing at the branch to pull himself up. Nein hoisted himself up beside the kit a moment later.

“Not high enough,” he murmured, peering down. The kit groaned, and Nein flashed him a reassuring grin. “Don’t worry. The branches are easier to reach up here.”

A loud howl below made them both jump. “Oi, there’s one up here!” The kit didn’t recognize the voice.

“Don’t move or make a sound,” Nein hissed.

As if Nein expected him to break into song and dance or something! He bit back an indignant response and crouched low on the branch, ears laid back, golden eyes slitted so they wouldn’t catch the light. The youkai beneath them held a bow, and as the kit watched he notched an arrow and let it loose. It hit with a dull THUD not a foot away from where the kit crouched.

“You’d better knock that off,” Nein growled menacingly. The kit was… well, surprised. He took a better look at Nein. Four horns, two on each side of his head, poked out of a tangled mop of brown hair. His face was round and pleasant, hinting at a mild nature. He looked completely harmless.

"Careful," another voice said warningly. "This one sounds dangerous." The kit could have cheered.

"Don't worry, Iason," the first one said. He nocked another arrow and raised his bow. "I'll get the bastard right between the eyes."

For one horrible moment, the kit stared at the shaft, pointed straight towards him. He didn't even have time to yelp as flew by to bury itself in the tree trunk, quivering with the impact. He raised a shaking hand to his stinging ear and felt blood trickling down. Too close. Way too close.

Nein snarled with rage, not unlike a wild animal. The kit squealed with surprise as he leapt down onto their attackers, screaming in fury. "Nein!"

He fell upon the hunters, viscous, wrathful. After only a few seconds, the kit couldn't watch. A few moments later Nein's pained scream brought his eyes back to the scene below. One of the hunters was dead, the other nowhere to be seen. But the dogs had gotten to Nein. The kit screamed, terrified and sickened, as the dogs-- only two of them--began to tear his friend limb from limb.

Nein looked up, brown eyes momentarily meeting gold ones. "Yomi will be here soon, kid," were his final words. "Just hang on." Then Nein was in pieces, and his throat had been torn off. The kit began to retch as the dogs devoured what was left of Nein. Unfortunately, this brought him to their attention. They stared up at him with hungry, malicious red eyes. He screamed again, the sound terrible and high-pitched even to his own ears.

The dogs began to bark, standing on their hind legs and putting their front paws on the trunk. The kit trembled with fear, even though their paws didn't even make it halfway up to his position.

They snarled at him, and he found himself snarling back, wishing fervently that he had some way to kill them. Not just to save himself, but to avenge Nein's death.

Suddenly they both dropped down and walked away. The kit was stunned, but didn't have a chance to marvel at his good fortune as the tree suddenly shook with the impact of one dog’s body, and then again as the other dog hit

Oh gods, they’re going to knock down the tree,’ he realized with a sinking feeling. ‘I’m done for.’

The tree shook as the dogs flung themselves at it once again. And again. And again. Then there was an ominous crack as the tree (not a large and tough one to begin with) began to break.

“I don’t wanna die,” he whispered to no one in particular, clinging to the branch to keep from being knocked off as the tree shook.

The tree began to tilt. He squealed and clung tighter—as if it would help. The dogs were panting at the effort, but if they were tired, the kit could see no sign of it.

The tree shook once more—there was another loud crack—and this time, it began to fall.

He shrieked as he released his hold on the branch and fell with the tree. He hit the trunk, bounced, and landed in the bushes beside it.

Strangely enough, he didn’t ache. Numbness seeped into his bones and eased his pain. For one blissful moment, he was at peace. Then one of the dogs snarled nearby, and his heart leapt into his throat. He whimpered before he could stop himself.

The beasts fell silent, but their breath was heavy. His ears twitched in time to each pant. They all three remained frozen for several minutes. It was the kit, whose instincts were less sharply honed (were, in fact, hardly formed), that broke first, propping himself up on his elbows with a tiny grunt. Neither dog was on its feet, and both stared at him with hate-filled eyes.

He took a deep breath, then slowly rose to his feet, face screwing up with pain. It was all he could do to keep from crying out. First one, then both of the beasts began to snarl. He shook with fear, and took a step back.

One of the beasts lunged, so quickly he hardly saw it coming. He did cry out as glowing red eyes and long, sharp teeth filled his vision—then were abruptly flung away as a branch from the fallen tree smacked into its side, forcing it to the ground. A puddle of blood began to form around it, where the branch had lunged deeply into the creature’s chest. It was howling; a terrible, high-pitched, frightened, pained sound. The kit stumbled back a few steps, feeling drained for some reason. He fell, and suddenly the other hound rose.

Shrieking, he leapt to his feet and ran. Fast, fast, as fast as he could… he was going so fast…it seemed that the earth beneath him was pulling his feet along… but it wasn’t fast enough. The beast slammed into his body, and he knew for sure that this was it. He bucked and screamed futilely, managed to squirm out from beneath it. Its teeth sank into his right leg, and he screamed, beating at its nose with a tiny fist.

“SHOO!” A rock smacked it in the middle of its forehead. It released his leg and leapt over him. He twisted in time to see his idol finish it off with a spear through its stomach.

“Kuronue!” He struggled to rise, putting most of his weight on his left leg. Kuronue knelt before him, and the kit flung himself into his arms, clutching at him like a lifeline. “Oh thank the gods…”

Kuronue lifted the kit easily. “Didja get it?”

He whimpered. “Nah… it wasn’t really… it didn’t have his power… he said it was just to trick people…”

“Damn!” Kuronue swore loudly. “Just our luck, too.” He shifted the kit to one arm and stood. “Well, don’t worry, kid. I’ve found us some travelling partners. I’m sure one of ‘em will know how ta bandage you up… Hey, kid! Can you hear?”

He could, barely, as he slowly spiraled into darkness, the pain receding as awareness of the world did.

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