Catherine's fingers twitched slightly, her sharp gaze sweeping over the dense treeline. Her usual air of detached amusement had vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating focus. The atmosphere around us shifted, thick with tension, as if the very air had turned against us.
"Something's not right," she muttered under her breath, barely loud enough for me to catch.
Yuzu's ears perked up, the fur on her tail bristling as she instinctively stepped closer to me. Her small hands tightened around the hilt of her katana, the blade catching the dappled light filtering through the canopy. "Witch feel?" she asked, her voice hushed.
Catherine exhaled slowly through her nose, tilting her head slightly as if listening to something beyond the range of normal hearing. Her body was still, poised like a hunter awaiting its prey. "It's close," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
The world around us fell into an oppressive silence. The usual rustling of leaves, the gentle chirping of birds, even the hum of distant insects, all of it had vanished. The absence of sound pressed in from all sides, suffocating, unnatural.
A chill crawled up my spine. My tail flicked anxiously behind me as I fought to suppress the lump forming in my throat. My ears strained against the quiet, searching for anything, any sign of what Catherine and Yuzu had sensed.
Then—
A single branch snapped in the distance.
The sharp crack shattered the eerie stillness like a stone thrown into a still pond. My body jolted in response, heart lurching into my throat. My instincts screamed at me to run, but my feet remained planted, locked in place by fear.
Yuzu moved first. In one smooth motion, she shifted into a low stance, her katana angled slightly downward, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Her eyes darkened with unwavering focus. She's done this before, I realized, the thought sending a different kind of shiver through me.
"Mashiro, stay close," she whispered, her voice low but firm. Gone was her usual lighthearted cheer—what remained was a quiet, steady determination.
I swallowed hard. "O-okay…" I managed to stammer, stepping instinctively closer to her warmth.
Catherine's lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers subtly tracing a faint rune in the air. A soft, almost imperceptible shimmer surrounded her fingertips, gone as quickly as it appeared.
"If it's watching," she said, her voice so low it was nearly lost in the tension, "it's deciding whether we're prey."
A bead of sweat traced down my temple. She didn't have to say the rest.
Be ready! I thought.
A soft yip, yip! broke the tense silence, cutting through the thick veil of unease. A faint golden glow flickered through the underbrush, and before I could even react, a small shape burst from the bushes in a flurry of movement.
I barely had time to blink before something warm and impossibly soft launched itself straight at me.
"Wha—!?"
I stumbled back, instinctively catching the creature as it practically tackled itself into my arms. It was small, barely the size of a housecat, with pristine white fur that shimmered like moonlight. Nine delicate, fluffy tails flipped and curled behind it, each one radiating a faint ethereal glow.
The little fox nestled against me, its tiny body trembling slightly as it let out another urgent, high-pitched yip!
Yuzu's ears twitched, her stance still guarded, but her sharp eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Fox… smol creature?" she murmured, tilting her head.
Catherine, on the other hand, let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing her temples. "Oh, fantastic. Another stray."
The small fox ignored them, its large, gleaming blue eyes locked onto me with something that felt strangely… relaxing. It let out a series of frantic yips, its tiny paws pressing insistently against my chest.
I gulped. "U-uh… hi?"
It yipped again, more urgently this time, before pressing its cold little nose against my cheek. My ears flattened, and a weird tingly sensation spread through my chest, like something was trying to click into place inside me.
Catherine's sharp gaze locked onto the small fox nestled against my chest, her golden eyes narrowing with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. The air around her buzzed with an almost imperceptible tension, her fingers twitching ever so slightly as if resisting the urge to reach out and confirm what she was sensing.
"She feels… like a dungeon," Catherine muttered under her breath, her usual nonchalance giving way to something far more serious.
A cold lump formed in my throat at her words. A dungeon? I instinctively tightened my hold on the tiny creature, my fingers sinking into its impossibly soft fur.
"No," Yuzu interjected immediately, shaking her head so hard that her dark fox ears flopped slightly with the motion. Her tails flicked in agitation, the silver rings on them jingling faintly. "Nyo. Notto dungeon," she insisted, her voice unusually firm. "She feels… Inari Shrine."
Catherine's expression twisted with skepticism, her arms crossing over her chest. "Inari Shrine?" she echoed, tilting her head slightly. The deep violet fabric of her cloak swayed as she shifted her stance. "And that means… what, exactly?"
I glanced up from the small fox, absently stroking its silky white fur. Its body was so warm, radiating a gentle golden glow that flickered and pulsed like candlelight. Its large eyes—pale blue like the morning sky after a fresh snowfall—blinked up at me with an unsettling depth, almost as if it was remembering me.
"A shrine for Inari, obviously," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure of my own words. The moment the name left my lips, something tugged at the back of my mind, like a half-forgotten melody just out of reach.
After all, I knew it. I lived in Japan. Inari shrines were a part of Shintoism, dedicated to the kami of prosperity, foxes, and rice. The images of vermilion torii gates winding up misty mountain paths, of stone fox statues wearing red bibs, flickered through my mind.
Catherine exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples with an exasperated groan. "And I'm supposed to know what an 'Inari' is exactly? You fox-kin are practically the most secretive people in this world."
Yuzu puffed up slightly, looking thoroughly scandalized. "Witch not know Inari?" she asked, eyes wide with disbelief. "Bery important spirit! Fox-kin bery respect."
Catherine rolled her eyes, her silver-streaked black hair catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. "Not my fault your kind hoards secrets like a dragon hoards gold," she shot back, voice dripping with dry amusement. "Witches don't exactly get invited to fox-kin tea parties, you know."
The little nine-tailed fox let out a soft, contented yip and shifted against me, its delicate paws pressing into my chest as its tiny, cold nose brushed against my neck. I stilled. A strange warmth seeped into my skin, pulsing in time with my heartbeat, spreading like the gentle glow of embers beneath my fingertips.
Holding it felt… right.
Like something lost had finally returned home.
"Inari is… a guardian," I murmured, my fingers continuing their slow strokes through the fox's velvety fur. My words felt distant, almost as if they were coming from somewhere deep within me rather than my own understanding. "A divine spirit of prosperity, protection, and guidance."
Yuzu's golden eyes gleamed with reverence, her small frame nearly vibrating with excitement. "Bery special shrine. Only fox-kin know where. Sacred place."
Catherine sighed, shaking her head as she adjusted the wide brim of her pointed witch's hat. "Great. So now we've got a dungeon and a divine mystery on our hands. Because why not?"
Before I could respond, the little fox in my arms suddenly let out a sharp, clear yip! The glow around its nine tails pulsed like a heartbeat, golden energy flickering to life in the dim forest.
A wave of warmth shot through my fingertips—electric, dizzying, and startlingly nostalgic.
I inhaled sharply as my ears twitched, a sudden pressure settling in my chest. My heart pounded against my ribs, and for a split second, the world around me blurred, colors bleeding at the edges of my vision.
It wasn't just looking for me. It was calling me.
Catherine's red eyes flickered with intrigue, her sharp gaze locked onto the tiny fox nestled against me. "Is it… saying something?" she asked, her voice measured but laced with curiosity.
I swallowed hard, my ears twitching as the strange warmth from the fox seeped deeper into my skin, sending tingling waves through my fingertips.
"She's calling for help," I muttered, barely above a whisper.
Yuzu's ears perked up, her golden eyes widening in alarm. "Help?" she repeated, shifting closer. Her small hands reached out, hesitating just above the fox's glowing fur as if afraid touching it might burn her.
Catherine's expression darkened slightly, her arms crossing. "You're sure?"
I nodded slowly, unsure of how I was sure. I just… felt it. The pulsing warmth, the way its nine tails flickered with an unspoken urgency. It was reaching out, not just to me, but to something greater.
The tiny fox let out another soft yip, nuzzling into my chest. Its large sky-blue eyes shimmered with something deeper than mere intelligence—something old, something desperate.
Something waiting.