BDs, mangas, communauté !

Karasu (烏) - Part 16

Enter the Fox

Full Story: Chapter List

—————————

Karasu, Part 16

Though the satchel wasn’t large, it had carried enough food to last Shichi for several days. He started slowly, eating only a few handfuls throughout the day, allowing his stomach to grow accustomed to digestion. His mind began to clear. He noted the positions of the sun and stars, making his way back towards the river. Only the mountains were cold enough for snow, and the brown earth began to reveal itself as he descended. With the soil came roots, and soon he had foraged a small stock to refill the bag.

The river was a welcome sight. Though the water was chilled, he removed his shoes to wade into its embrace. The current was painfully cold, rushing fast enough to make him falter as he moved.  It washed away the blood and dust, biting his skin, reminding him how to shudder and cringe — how to feel alive. Shichi knelt, removing the bandage from his calf to rinse the wound. It had finally begun to heal. The skin was closed, but sore. Unfortunately, his shoulder would continue to keep him from the treetops. It had been difficult to sleep on the ground; it was as if his body knew that it wasn’t safe.

Bone poppies lined the riverbank, named for their blanched white petals. These were tenacious flowers, growing even in the cold of winter. They had grown around his childhood village, often used for their sleep-inducing sap. Shichi re-bandaged his leg, then approached the bank to gather a few pods. The less time he wasted trying to fall asleep, the better.

He crouched in the sea of ivory flowers, harvesting the swollen pods to save for later. His motions were careful, making sure not to accidentally expose the sap. The smell alone could blacken one’s consciousness within seconds. As he placed a pod into his satchel, a shift of movement caught his eye. At first, he couldn’t discern the pale figure from the petals, but a harder look revealed the outline of fur.

It was a white fox, curled up among the poppies. His initial thought was to leave it be, but he soon realized that its breathing was troubled. The creature panted fretfully, its eyes snapping up to watch him as he approached. It looked at him, not with fear, but with suspicion. Its gaze was tense and intelligent, boring into him as he moved closer. As its tail twitched in agitation, he noticed that it was accompanied by two others — three tails in total. This wasn’t an ordinary fox.

Shichi had read about kitsune and heard personal accounts, but had never actually encountered one before. He had been told many things — that they were magical, that they could possess others and breathe fire. Whether these things were true or not, he would have to see for himself. The only thing he was certain of was that fox before him was clearly suffering.

“Are you all right?” he asked, tilting his head.

The kitsune stared at him for only a moment more before attempting to drag itself off. It could barely stand, however, and wobbled before collapsing once again. It averted its eyes, seemingly embarrassed with its failure. Shichi knelt, placing his hands on his knees as he made one more attempt.

“Do you need help?”

He received a glare in response. This didn’t deter the monk, however, and he waited patiently for a reply. After a moment, the kitsune closed its eyes, putting forth a great effort to continue breathing.

“He… took it,” came a weary answer. The voice was female, strained as she spoke.

“Took what?”

“My ball,” she said, clearly annoyed at having to speak. Each word seemed forced and hinted at an unseen, internal pain.

Shichi could remember reading about the balls that all kitsune carried. They supposedly housed their souls, and being separated for too long could be fatal. The peach-sized spheres were often depicted in statues, carried in their mouths or balanced on their tails. Shichi wanted to know who ‘he’ was, and how this person had managed to take it from her, but she didn’t seem to have the time or energy for an explanation.

“Which way did he go?” he asked, replacing his satchel as he stood.

Her eyes cracked open long enough to gaze off in one direction, gesturing towards the forest with a glance.

“I’ll return soon.”

Part of him worried that this wasn’t his business — he didn’t know the full story or anything about the person he was looking for. It couldn’t have been Zaisei. The hunter would have been more interested in her pelt than some spiritual ball. He couldn’t, however, ignore someone in need. No matter what the story was, it wouldn’t have to end in death.

He continued in the direction she had indicated, looking for any hints of another person. Tracking was another skill that he was had never developed. Luckily, he spotted footprints in the peat that could only belong to a human. His pace quickened, running after the trail to find whoever it was that had made them.

Soon, he spotted a man walking hurriedly through the trees. Rather than a hunter or bandit, he appeared to be a peasant, dressed in the modest clothing of a farmer. The human’s pace was rather quick, as if he were moving in a panic. There was no time to think of a proper strategy — Shichi would have to act now. He hoped that this could be resolved through communication; perhaps it had just been a misunderstanding. Even so, he removed a single pod from his satchel and kept it tucked in the palm of his hand.

“Who’s there?” the human said, turning at the sound of Shichi’s approach. He spoke in a nervous, wavering tone and his eyes flickered with each word.

“I am,” Shichi replied, giving a light bow as he stepped forward. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

The human faltered, unaccustomed to seeing tengu. He clutched the pouch at his waist, stepping backwards as he stared.

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to ask,” he said, keeping his tone soft as he walked closer. “If you took something from a kitsune?”

With those words, something seemed to snap in the human’s red-lined eyes. They widened, quivering with realization.

“You can’t have it!” he snapped, taking another step away. “It’s mine.”

“What do you need it for?” Shichi asked, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.

“That’s… that’s none of your business.”

“Please, I must return it,” Shichi pleaded, now standing face to face with the man. “She needs it to live.”

The human paused at his statement, his expression showing the slightest hint of softening. Yet, only a moment later, the panic returned to his eyes. He shook his head, taking in a shaking breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I can’t.”

“Then I’m sorry, too.”

As he spoke, Shichi made a faint slit in the pod with his claw. The poppy sap leaked out, smudging onto his palm. He held his breath as he lifted his hand, clamping his fingers over the human’s mouth. Almost instantly, the man swayed, eyelids fluttering as he went limp. Shichi caught him in his arms, easing him down to the ground.

“You’ll be all right,” he whispered, leaning the body against a thick tree. “It’s just a short rest.”

The human was out cold, giving Shichi a moment to drop the pod and clean his hand. The farmer carried little on his person, having only the clothes on his back and the worn pouch on his belt. He unfastened the string, reaching in to remove its contents. Sure enough, it had been holding a pearly white ball.

It was surprisingly warm, carrying a luminescent sheen over the smooth surface. It almost seemed to glow. He forced himself to look away, placing it in his bag and making his way back to the river. Though he knew that he had done the right thing, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He had acted as a common thief, abusing his knowledge of herbs to steal from someone. Reminding himself that it was a matter of life or death, he hurried through the forest. He could only hope that the kitsune was still alive.

As he returned to the riverbank, he was relieved to find that she was well. Before he could even speak, she had picked up her head, ears perked at his approach. She seemed to know what he was carrying without asking, hopping up to her feet in anticipation. Kneeling, he removed the ball from his bag and offered it to her. The kitsune didn’t waste a second, immediately snatching it up in her mouth before darting away. As she reached the treeline, she hesitated, giving him one last glance over her shoulder. He returned the look, silent as he watched her. With a snort, she turned away, disappearing into the forest.

“Take care,” he murmured, crouched motionlessly among the swaying poppies.

From there, his journey continued along the river. Bare tree branches hung over the water, their limbs dark against the gray sky. It was only a matter of time before he reached the sea. From there, he could continue on to Awaji Island, a stepping stone between his home and the mainland. The day’s travel, however, would have to end. It was already growing dark.

Shichi found a spot at the base of an old tree, settling down along the roots. Running after the human had been tiring and he had forgotten to eat anything since morning. Just as he opened his satchel to select a root, there was a rustling behind him. Before he could pick up his staff, the very same human rushed forth from the dry bushes.

“Thief!” he cried, grabbing Shichi by his collar and slamming him up against the tree. “Where is it?”

The man throttled him, wrapping his calloused hands around the tengu’s throat as he repeated his question. His shout was desperate. Shichi could have sworn that he could see tears in the corners of the human’s eyes.

“I don’t have it,” he choked, finding it difficult to speak.

“You’re lying! Give it back to me!”

His grip was tight enough to pull feathers, rigid and unrelenting.

“I-I’m telling you the truth. I don’t have it,” Shichi said, trying in vain to loosen the man’s hands. He was much weaker than the farmer, however, and couldn’t so much as budge his fingers. It was then that the man seemed to believe him, gritting his teeth and he looked away in thought. He made a realization, turning his attention back to the monk with an even stronger glare.

“The kitsune… where is she? Where did she go?”

“I don’t know.”

“I wonder,” the farmer said, removing one hand to reach into the folds of his shirt. “If this is still potent.”

He pulled out a ragged cloth, letting it drop to reveal the very same pod he had been subdued with. Shichi’s eyes widened at the sight of it.

“N-no, I-”

He couldn’t finish speaking — the human grabbed him by the beak, keeping it shut as he squeezed the pod in his fist. Milky white sap oozed out, leaking between his fingers. He clamped his palm over the tengu’s nostrils. The world immediately began to spin, twisting into darkness. It felt as if his body had turned to stone. His vision flickered before his eyes closed, unconscious before he could even hit the ground.