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Every little sound in the forest, from wind in the branches to the few sticks I step on, tightens a knot between my shoulders. There's nothing to be done for it. Saki and I both keep a hand free for weapons should nekomata, monk, or some new danger show itself. I have to lean on her, my shield arm wrapped around her back, to keep weight off my protesting ankle. How vulnerable that moment of my carelessness has made us, it grinds against my teeth, yet she still supports me while guiding our way through the dark. After we pass between some carefully stacked rocks that feel odd to me, just like the cliff behind the kitsune's home did, I ask, "Is that nekomata following us?" "No," Saki says, leading me around a stout tree. What sort of glamour are we passing through? "Neither of us noticed the nekomata before." "I wasn't listening for her," Saki says, the reproach in her voice meant for herself. Or so I think. I can't know for certain in this dark whether my loose words offended or upset her. Without thinking I used the offer of her family's hospitality to get us away without a fight. As their honored guest, as Saki and Rin's lover, as their friend, I should never have tried such crafty words. They'll tell me if I was wrong. I have to believe in that and keep walking with Saki's help. Soon, an ancient stone faces us and we're about to walk face first into it. But when I blink, there's a gap in root covered rocks we pass through. Within the clearing beyond, tucked away under branches, is a simple building. It's bigger than any of the village's huts, made of wood, and has a tiled roof. But leaves are everywhere, layered and thick upon the ground, as if it hasn't been visited since last summer. Saki puts a finger on my lips. She gets me to wait leaned against some tree roots, then her hooked dagger appears in her hand. The eight-tail stalks towards the building, silently padding across last autumn's leaves as if they were the creaking floors in her home. Her deadly grace impresses me even after she disappears around the back, taking with her the dim blue flame she's kept on a single tail. Left alone in the dark I almost draw a weapon, but the moon and stars barely reach through the branches above. I won't risk a glint that eyes sharper than mine could see in this gloom. I count my breaths instead, ready to push myself onto an injured ankle and limpingly run my way to her aid at the first ill sound. My breath chills my short beard, without threatening any frost, as the silence stretches painfully on. I've been through enough today for my instincts to be shaving sharp. I wait and listen. Light slowly emerges from the other side of the building. Saki creeps toward the door. I expect her to push it open gently, but instead she kicks it in and dashes within. I get a dagger out, my fingers stiff from the cold. The wait whitens my knuckles against the hilt. There's no sound but my heart in my ears. I can't lose her after what happened in the village. I don't know how I'd face Rin if something befell Saki after I've just gotten her back. Worse, I know I can't get there fast enough if Saki really needs help. I fought a hut full of men and it was a hole in the ground that gave me the worst wound of the day. At least my ancestors can fill their halls with laughter if they're watching me. Before I break a bone in my hand from gripping the dagger, white tipped tails poke out of the doorway, wispy blue flames leaping out to light up Saki's path to me. She crunches over leaves, relief plain to see even on her masked face, at least to my eyes. How cold she must look to any that don't know the depths of her stern, caring heart. Without a word she takes my arm, has me lean weight on her again, and leads me into the building. The door shuts behind us thanks to a tail, and I'm nearly blinded by eight flames suddenly lighting the room. I blink against the glow, eyes adjusting quick enough to make out our surroundings. The dirt floor gives way to a raised wooden one only a few steps in, the single room clear and open. There's a lot against the walls I can see, but I pay that little heed. Saki hurries me to sit on the edge of the raised floor. Soon as I'm seated, she crouches and starts to get my boots off, but I stop her. "If that nekomata comes here, I want these on. Poor manners or not." "She can't find this place," Saki says, lifting my less sore leg, yanking the boot off before I can protest. I give up arguing for good sense and accept that this is how it'll be. I know I'm not going to be much help in a fight, even though my sinew and nerves remain doubtful about the nekomata not finding us. Saki tries for the second boot, on the foot I twisted, but it won't budge. My jaw tightens as she tries again, and I feel grateful for the beard I've been growing, as it keeps my discomfort from her notice. Giving up, her masked eyes stare at me for a long moment. Saki mutters, "I'll need to cut the leather." "Don't, we can-" "You're not walking up the mountain on this ankle," she says, gaze tilting up. Brown eyes peer through the slits of her mask, begging me to stop trying to argue. My foot won't fall off if it stays in the boot for the rest of the night, is what I want to say. But I don't. Saki wants to look out for me, and she must have hundreds of years more experience with injuries than me. More importantly, I need to listen to the woman who loves me even if a doubtful thorn in my chest wonders if I might've ruined what we've just found. "Alright," I breathe out. "But I'll stand on it if I hear that cat." "I'll kill the nekomata if I see her," Saki darkly promises. Having me shuffle back more while she kneels on the packed dirt, Saki uses the hook of her dagger to slice open my warm boot from the side. Cool but not cold metal rubs against my skin, but of course her skill keeps it from cutting me. As soon as she's near the ankle, she switches to scoring the leather. Then Saki grabs the flaps of the ruined boot, muscles standing out beneath the tight parts of her upper sleeve as she starts to rip it the rest of the way. Any thoughts I have about how finely honed and trained she is vanish under a jolt of aching, crushing pain rising from my ankle. A string of sailor's curses leave my mouth as I keep my knee unmoving and clench my fists. Saki tosses the ripped boot aside, immediately inspecting my joint. The outside of my ankle is bruised and the swelling worsens with the pain. I definitely sprained it, or worse, broke something. Mask hidden eyes tilt up to catch my gaze. "Don't move your foot.". I bite back any more curses and nod. Saki's palm pushes me onto my back while she props my ankle up with an empty basket left by the door. "Stay here," she tells me, hurrying off once I nod again. Hopefully she knows I'll get up if something comes through the door. To distract myself from such thoughts, I look about, finally taking in our surroundings. I wasn't mistaken, there's only one large room in the building. A hearth is set in the center, while dusty jars, baskets, and shelves take up two walls. Saki goes to a large chest against another and opens it. She pulls out two folded futons, blankets, and several cushions. She gets them spread out by the cold hearth, arranging them with practiced ease. Then the eight-tail goes back to the chest and tosses out more cushions that land as if placed purposefully. When I think it must be emptied, she stops, leaning on the lifted chest lid for a moment as if to catch her breath. I don't know if she's tired or in pain as well. I have a foolish urge to go and see if she's alright, but I heed her words and good sense. The set of her shoulders suggests fatigue instead of any pain, melting some of my concerns. Saki looks up, still leaning on the chest lid, at nearby shelves, no doubt taking stock. We're lovers now, so it would be wrong of me to not appreciate how shapely her rear and legs are when she stands like that. Admiring her at least helps me ignore the throbbing in my ankle, though it doesn't do much for my thoughts. I can't shake the lingering feeling that I misstepped with words and not just my foot. Inviting that nekomata to their home, what was I doing? But that's not for me to decide - that's up to Rin and Saki. The eight-tail suddenly straightens up and closes the lid. Tails whirl towards me, the kitsune they belong to coming over and kneeling at my side. Saki takes the mask atop her snout and sets it nearby, unties my belt so that it flops partly off the raised floor, then steps onto the lower dirt floor. She's so swift and sure about it I have to wonder if this comes from years and years of overseeing her troublesome younger sisters. Then I realize what she intends and lift a hand to stop her. "Help me up, I can hobble along on one foot." "No," Saki says, crouching down. Strong arms get under my knees and behind my back. I leave the floor as Saki lifts before I can do anything, the eight-tail picking me up in a show of her might - and concern. I hadn't known she was this strong, though I can tell from her disciplined breathing this is near her limit. I'm not as upset as I thought I'd be, being lifted like this when I still have strength to stand, though it does rankle something in me as a man; I should be the one picking up my lovers, not the other way around. Still, I help her out by looping an arm behind her shoulders. Some part of me, to avoid thinking about the throbbing pain in my ankle, decides to get revenge for this. Whatever I do to save that scrap of pride I hadn't known about, I've no doubt Saki will enjoy me carrying her off once I'm healed. Maybe I'll see just how much she likes those tails of hers pulled on... Saki steps onto the raised wood floor, jostling me from such thoughts, and carries me to the bedding. Neither of us says a thing, but I notice a tail stroke against my back as the burdened kitsune focuses. The silence and all my scattered thoughts churn like a stormy sea inside me. Squatting down, Saki settles me onto the soft futons without dropping me. Once I'm settled, she wearily sinks down to her knees. Three of her tails flick, making a blue and smokeless flame roar to life in the hearth. There's not much warmth for its size, but it offers some, and far more light than the flames on her tail tips. Without wasting a moment Saki props my ankle up with cushions, then she cuts off part of a thin blanket and starts to wrap up my sprain. I don't let the pain show and do the wisest thing I can: will myself to relax. The futons are soft, and thick enough I can't feel the cold floor. Mystical flames burning nothing start to warm up the side of my shield arm. It's almost comfortable. Saki, finished bandaging my twisted ankle, starts to softly hum a tune while she plucks all the weapons out of her clothes. She leaves them near the bedding, then retrieves my belt and brings it within arms reach, making certain to untie a dagger and hand it to me. The eight-tail knows me so well I have to smile, and I set the blade where I can swiftly draw it. Saki nods and settles into a proper sitting kneel beside me. "How do you feel?" she asks. "I've been through worse," I grin at her, glad to see her face thanks to the light. "So you've told us," she whispers, reaching out and touching my chest. Right over the scars clawed into my flesh by a man-eater. "But that was before I knew you." "Any scars I've earned today I'll wear with pride," I say, holding her hand and squeezing fondly. "Are you alright?" In the shadows of her fur, I catch sight of a tiny smile relaxing the eight-tail's face. Fingers twist beneath mine so that Saki can squeeze me back, familiar callouses against mine. No glamour or trick could hide that from me. This is her, not her lost sister, as if I needed any more certainty. "I am," she whispers. My thoughts, unsteady and cracked, stir up even more as Saki leans down and kisses my forehead. "Thank you for finding me." I nearly grab her into a hug, but a twinge in my ankle stops that. I settle for caressing her neck, running my fingers through her lovely fur instead. "Any time." "Is it proper, among your people," she says, eyes closing a moment from the pleasure of touch, "to give a reward when one is grateful?" There's no great relief easing my shoulders, only the warmth of a life I could protect. "Finding you was my reward." I have enough wits about me to not speak of the fears of what might have happened if I had been any slower. A complicated, contemplative sound hums, almost purrs, in her as she leans into my palm. Saki's softness chases away the worst of what clouds my head and heart. "I shouldn't feel guilty about your foot, should I?" "Careful," I say, pushing on her shoulder so her eyes can meet mine, "you're close enough for me to grab and drag you under these blankets." Something wavers in her gaze, a barely hidden doubt of a woman afraid instead of angry. "No, then?" This is no time for playfulness to fight back my pain. "I'll rip your guilt apart if you feel any," I tell her, bringing her cool nose against mine. "And I will pull you down with me if there are any frosty doubts that won't melt." The blue glow of mystical flames barely glimmers in dark brown eyes. "Those are thawing," she says, awkwardly for her. Her fur is too dark to see if she's blushing. If I felt her ears, I'd know. Then it would be all too easy to yank the kitsune onto the layered futons with me, but I would forget myself in the moment. And almost certainly worsen the sprain grinding at my ankle. I have to make do with holding her hand and having her so close, for now. "How," she says, hesitating for half a breath, "tired are you?" The hidden meaning of her question is hardly subtle, but the weariness in my limbs means I have to ignore it, for now. "Too tired for much, but not enough to sleep." "Does something worry you?" Saki asks, peering into me as I do the same for her. "After today, how could I not have worries?" I chuckle, silky soft fur between my fingers. "There are quite a few enemies out there, and more I don't trust." "We're safe for tonight," she promises. "Even from monks and their magic?" I ask, wanting to share in whatever certainty she has. "They would need a year to find this place." I give a shallow nod, Saki close enough her whiskers tickle at my beard. "How long would that crazed nekomata need?" "Many days." Strong fingers tighten against mine. "Egil, do not worry about her. After I rest, she won't escape my blades." "How can I not worry when my fool tongue offered her the hospitality I had no right to promise? Even if it was to get away in the moment, that's a burden I put upon you." Silence stretches a few heartbeats too long for my health. Saki doesn't look away, nor withdraw even a hairsbreadth, even when she finally speaks. "No." I stroke her cheek with my thumb. "No?" "Judging visitors is my duty. There is no burden on me." Trust is more terrifying than battle. For all my talk of chasing away her doubts, she's the one working to free me from mine. "You'll have my help," I swear. "Not with your foot like that." "If she sees me at the gate, the nekomata won't see your blades." Saki's head tilts slightly, into my hand. "I'll consider it." She might, but I suspect she'll have a different plan if it comes to that. Like her sisters with those deadly looking bows hiding somewhere to put arrows into the nekomata, if Shigeko appears. "Troubles for another day, then?" I breathe out, wishing to avoid straining our hearts over what might not come to be. Not tonight, at least. An eager nod, for the eight-tail, agrees with me. Then a gentle kiss, delicate as morning mist, touches my lips. "Egil, I'm sorry." "Do I need to drag you down here?" "Not yet," she says with regret mixed into a tiny, almost nervous laugh. I nearly pull her down anyway, but she keeps speaking. "I'm sorry if I seemed angry with you. I was scared." "We both were." "There's..." Saki's words trail off. "Plenty of time to talk if we can't be found. And I don't think it's fair to trap you in my arms until you're more comfortable." A breathy laugh breaks through some unseen vines around her heart. It's a faint sound, and utterly befitting the dangerous warrior and protectively distant woman I love. Saki's as frayed and distraught as I am, but after what happened to her, she has every reason to be. "How about a meal first?" she asks, reluctantly sitting up and looking at the pots by a wall. "There should be polished rice. And there is a well behind the house." "You've reminded me," I say, "there's one last delivery I must make." I reach for my belt and pull off a bag that I can only hope hasn't been smashed too badly, having to use one hand since my other doesn't want to leave Saki's fingers. It takes me a few moments, but she's patient. I offer her the bag and an apologetic nod. "I brought these to share with you. The fight I wouldn't talk my way out of might've ruined them, however." She takes the pouch, strings already loosened enough for her to reach fingers inside. Saki pulls out a bamboo leaf wrapped tonjiki. Then three more. I cannot remember how many I left for her, but that seems like far more than I last felt. The shape of each is flatter and dented in spots, yet they're all in unbroken wrappings. With a deft hand she unfolds the bamboo leaf around one and sees the shaped rice within. "From your thoughtful eldest sister," I say, a wave of unwanted awkwardness rocking me at the worst moment. I'm not used to talking about two lovers, especially without both here. "Thank you," Saki whispers, her shallow smile tinged with a sort of regret I understand too well - she's trying not to blame herself. "Both of you." The eight-tail's smile strengthens, perhaps from hope or thoughts of the nine-tail recently reconciled with. She sets the wrapped rice down on the pouch. "How is Rin?" "Worried for you," I admit. "We both were." Tails fan out decisively behind Saki, determination winning against her guilt and regret. "I need your help once we return." "You have it." The gaze I get is surprised from the swiftness of my answer, as is a part of myself. Last autumn I wouldn't have agreed without knowing more. But I made this decision days ago, when I dared to let the eight-tail and nine-tail into my heart, and I'm not about to let my own troublesome heart get in the way. Saki considers her words carefully, composing herself as she would before her sisters. A glint in her eye seems to halt her. All at once, Saki gives up on speaking. She leans down for a kiss upon my lips, the ice within deep brown eyes giving away to a warm spring. Saki shares all the love she can through silent lips, her way of telling me to stop fearing she's anything but grateful to be back with me. We're both too tired for passion, nor do we need it. We've got each other safe. Our hands hold tight to each other as we bask in the feeling of closeness, our battle irritated nerves soothing. There's no tongue, no teeth, none of my unseen wounds tearing open, just her and me. "Rin will need you," Saki breathes against my lips, barely pulling back. "I know her. She'll try to insist on leaving us together instead of joining us." There might be a smirk on my face, but why shouldn't there be after today? "Can you get her near me?" "Since you cannot chase her down?" "Not while awake," I say, keeping most of a chuckle out of my voice. Defenseless, loving eyes widen from a fear I never meant to rouse. In my arrogance, I forgot she wasn't present for that conversation. "Rin told me about the dreams," I say, holding fast upon Saki's hand and fluffy cheek so she can't flee. "You're both welcome whenever you want." "Egil," Saki breathes in, disbelief warring against a desperate need to lean into my hand upon her soft face. "That is what the monks and nekomata saw upon you. We-" "Did it for love, nothing else," I say, quieting her with a kiss. I try to tell her everything else she needs to know in a way that means more than words, losing myself in her scent and taste. Only when I'm satisfied, and she's almost falling on top of me, do I pull back so we can both breathe. "Love for your sisters, at first, and to know what sort of man I am. And then love for me." Sense returns slowly to her lovely eyes, along with an unmistakable wish I weren't so battered and worn out. "I wanted to believe you'd say such. Yet..." "I'm not always a fool." "If you're a fool, you're my fool," she squeezes my hand, "and I'm one of yours." Now I'm the one unable to find words. Saki, however, received what I hoped she would. She's made her mind up because of it, fast as she can throw sharpened steel, and speaks before I can. "I'll draw some water." My tripped up tongue moves again. I cannot mistake that look in her eyes for anything else. "I'll keep our bedding warm." It becomes a pair of promises with another kiss. It would be so much more if I didn't need to mind my sprained ankle, my weary body no longer a hindrance to passion. Saki, eager to finish her tasks and return, sways back. Smooth and quick, she's on her paw-like feet and stretching. I don't know if that's to work out knots in her back or if she's teasing me, knowing full well she's got all of my attention. With how she sways her hips and tails while getting an empty pot from a wall, I know she's happy to have my eyes on her. A horrid thought, one I should have guessed plagued her heart, hits me harder than sword against mail. I could have betrayed her to join the monks on their hunt for the man-eater. Or I could have negotiated an agreement between the monks and the sarugamis’ master, that tengu, to get the oni. I could have believed the monks, or nekomata, that the kitsune have sway over my mind, that they've bewitched me. So many chances and choices I never thought about taking. Does the scar upon Saki's back, earned from such betrayal in the past, itch? The glance over her shoulder and faint smile, such a tiny expression that seems big as the mountain, thanks me. Then, quick and quiet, Saki and her swaying hips disappear out of the building. The mystical flames remain in the hearth, cooler than a wood fire but still warm, and thankfully without any smoke. I strain my ears for any splashing sounds to know how far the well is and listen for anything worse. There's nothing. I sneak a hand towards a dagger, the silence crawling against my skin and biting at the roots of my hairs. I'm too wounded to rush to her aid. I hate it, and my carelessness for stepping into a hole to twist my ankle. It's been such a dangerous, hateful day. It wouldn't surprise me for one last horror to happen, waiting for the moment when I cannot fight back. The door harshly swings inward, billowing in the cold. My hand clutches that dagger, back rising, as I ready to throw it. Saki closes the door with her tails, my fingers frightfully flinching back to the blankets. She didn't see, nor do I think she'd care, how close I was to hurling sharp steel. Shame slides in where the fear of something else happening to her had been. With a large earthen pot hugged against her front, she strides onto the wooden floor, then sets her burden by the hearth. The water within barely makes a sound at all. "How hidden is this place?" I ask to distract myself while she gets two iron pots hanging over the blue flames. "Not as much as our home," Saki nods. "Would I have found it if I strayed off the path?" The eight-tail considers it while getting another pot. She measures out scoops of polished, white rice before answering. "Perhaps," Saki says. "Now that the mountain has accepted you." "Is that because you two have accepted me?" The eight-tail scoops water into both pots before speaking, setting down the bowl she used and staring at me. "Egil," she finally utters. "You..." The words escape her, or perhaps they're stolen by doubts Saki has kept buried deep within her chest. All I can give her is my patience. "Rin," she finally begins, "and I wanted to talk to you about your stay with us. We meant to discuss it with you soon." "But today happened." Saki's head tilts in agreement. She puts a lid on one of the pots before speaking again. "Eldest sister should be here to talk about this. However..." the eight-tail turns to me at last, sitting on her knees. "She will understand. We'd both like you to be here, with us." That can mean many things. Yet with my body and spirit worn thin from a day that felt as if it wouldn't end, I cannot sift through all the meanings. After a treacherous messenger, a forgetful gift, talking with a man-eater instead of slaying it, and speaking with monks I should have left bruised and beaten instead - all I want is to wake up with Saki and Rin in my arms, the day nothing but a nightmare. "Let's talk about that when I'm rested and we're together," I say to Saki, reaching over and touching her sleeve. "We're settling into something none of us understand, but we all want it." The eight-tail nods, posture relieved yet shoulders far from unburdened. "Shall I tell you what happened today," I begin, not wanting to push her, "now that we're not escaping a mob of righteously resentful monks?" Her nod comes as she starts measuring rice. I begin recounting everything that happened at her home after she left. I start to skim over my conversation with Rin, yet Saki's ears listen with such interest I tell her most of what I remember. Her poise sharpens when I mention the spell the monk used, and how Akemi seemed stunned from getting too close to it. While I could ask about Saki's experience with the monks, I keep talking, as both of us might feel an urge to kill them otherwise. Then I get to my encounter with the oni, and her subtle discomfort has me promise to share everything from that with Rin when she is here. Still, recollecting my conversation with the oni doesn't sit well with Saki, no matter how much she needs to hear it. "Meiko was there?" she utters, staring at a pot. "For a time," I say, strangling a regret for not trying to capture her lost twin. "How did she seem?" Saki's voice is emotionless. I close my eyes, wading through memories overshadowing what might've been my most important conversation of the day. "She spoke as if confused, or unaware. Like she saw nothing but illusions. And I think she cut herself on the basket I carried when she tried to stop me, but it might've all been a deception." "She tried to stop you?" "The oni, or man-eater trying to make believe it was the oni, seemed worried about her after that." "We've never heard of her trying to grab anyone." "Meiko," I say slowly, forcing my eyes open, "appeared to want me to stop for my own good. Or what she thought was my own good. The man-eater said I was tricked, so she tried to grab me when I began to walk away." "He can muddle her thoughts and corrupt her sight," Saki whispers, "but he cannot twist her heart." My knuckles pop as they curl into a fist which I must slowly, shakily release. I tell her the rest, everything I can remember of the conversation with the oni, down to the sounds. The rice long since finished cooking and our drinking water comes off the hearth while I speak, the pots resting on clay holders to cool. How mad is Meiko? Is she caught in illusions? Does she believe she's taking care of her dear husband? I don't ask any of that, but I feel sick to my stomach, while Saki remains unmoving, even as I tell her the oath I got out of the man-eater and how I promised to bring food for Meiko. I cannot endure it any longer. "Did I make a mistake making such a promise?" "No." Saki lifts the lid off the rice pot and stirs the fluffy white grains within, steam billowing when it should freeze to mist upon her fur. "You did more than we ever could. Rin will find a way to use this." "Even though I swore the food wouldn't be tampered with?" "Do you remember what Miki and Shizuka did to the wine brought to you and eldest sister?" Saki looks to me at last, tempered iron holding her together. I nod, the start of winter seemingly a lifetime ago. The young two-tail and subtly devious seven-tail had used medicine on the wine and bottle, without the other knowing, and the doses together had put Rin and I to sleep instead of... whatever it was those two hoped to happen. Miki I believe meant to help us rest or cut short the time I spent with her eldest sister, yet Shizuka's intentions remain mysterious. I feel my eyes widen, fatigue slowing a simple understanding. "You mean poison upon the bottle?" Saki nods. "If you never know what is or isn't smeared with a sleeping tonic, will it break your oath?" "No, but the man-eater will expect such deceit. And I don't know if my oath would permit it." "It's not the only trick we might try." Beneath the ice, a freezing fire burns in Saki, vengeance and hatred hammered into a sword long ago. "We have choices, and I mean to bend around my words like the faeries would." I point towards the door, not wanting either of us to dwell on old wounds. "And if I didn't settle revenge into the monks' hearts, I plan to use them and whatever magic they bound you with." "You said you didn't have a plan." "I don't. But I can maybe use them for their magic." "You'd use their spells?" "Not the grudges or the nekomata," I say. "The beads they threw at you." A new sort of light dawns in Saki's eyes. "That's why you asked the nekomata to spare them?" "That and to make her leave." "We are fortunate not to have you as an enemy," Saki says, pouring two simple cups with nearly boiling water. She leaves them to cool while I choose to finish telling her about my trip into the village instead of making any plans without Rin here. The story of my first encounter with the monks has me pointing to where they hit me in the legs while Saki daintily pulls out the tonjiki. She offers me some, which I turn down with a hand while carrying on with my story. She chews on the cold rice shaped around pickled plum, saying nothing as I go over my failed negotiations. I can tell she memorizes the names of each monk, and I do not pity them. When I get to the sarugami, her expression twists subtly, and I know it's not from the sourness of the plums. She likes the thought of trusting them as much as I do, it seems. I speak little of the fight at the hut and instead describe the spell that bound her and what I did to break it. She says nothing, listening as she chews on the last of the tonjiki. Once I finish speaking, I get handed a cup of warm water for my dry throat. Heat sinks into my chest, spreading through me slowly, and it soothes the scratchiness starting to reach my voice. Saki, of course, isn't still. She scoops steaming heaps of polished rice into the bowls before giving one to me with both hands. There's no hashi for me to fumble with, just spoons I hadn't noticed her bring over, so I don't need help during our peacefully quiet meal. I hadn't noticed before that I scraped and scratched up one of my hands, no doubt from catching bronze capped staves swinging at my skull, so I'm slower than usual. Unlike man-eaters, fighting people has never left me shaken. Any trembling in my hands is exhaustion settling in, nothing more, but I know Saki believes otherwise. She lets me eat in peace, however, and I love her all the more for it. Once our bowls are empty and set aside, she sits on her knees next to me. Without being asked, I show her my palms. "Next I fight monks, I should bring axes." "Take whatever you want from my training hall," Saki says, inspecting my roughed up palms. She leaves my side, getting the water pot and taking a blanket for rags. Hot, but not quite scalding, water pours over my palms and she scrubs at what might be dirt or blood. A displeased, and surprising, little grunt comes from her as she wipes up fallen water, but thankfully the bedding is dry from how I held my arms out. "How hurt are you?" she asks, looking me over and speaking so honestly I have to kill the first words that want to come across my tongue. Saki needs truth, not any of my stubbornness. "Some new bruises and aches, but I think that's the only blood." "Egil," she breathes in, fingers reaching out slowly to touch my neck. The ache she carefully feels around brings back bits of the fight. "They tried to strangle me," I shrug, reaching up to gently hold her wrist before any fear of claws creeps into my thoughts. "They should've had two men on that rope, I can throw one." "Rin won't forgive this." Saki's voice promises she never will either. I hadn't really considered how the beating I took might disturb either of their hearts. Nor do I expect the fierce glint sharpening within Saki's dark brown eyes, her scorn solely for the monks. "Can you hold back your vengeance?" I ask. "For another season, at least?" "Why?" she asks, focusing upon me instead of her barely sheathed anger. "I mean to make them help us against the oni." "They will never help us." "Not purposefully," I grin. "Yet your calming of my dreams has made the monks believe they can help me." She leans in and kisses my forehead. "We will wait for Rin." "Thank you," I say, closing my eyes and just enjoying her presence for a few heartbeats. Once I gaze back at her in the blue tinged shadows, Saki sits by my side once more, silent as ever. "It's an unfamiliar joy in my heart, seeing I wasn't too late for you." Saki stares at me for a moment. Then her hands swiftly unknot the tight sash holding closed her clothes. With the speed of long practice, she rises to her feet and sheds her clothes, baring most of her fur save for her loincloth and chest wrappings. She undoes those bindings with a relieved sound, breasts coming free as the few remaining flames upon Saki's tails vanish and the hearth dims. In the sudden darkness, the eight-tail kitsune dives at me, wrapping me up in a careful hug as she settles in beside me, pulling blankets and cushions into place. Of course she's careful of my bandaged leg and the rest of me she suspects to be covered in bruises, but there's no faster way for her to share what she feels. Calloused fingers and palms get my clothes open, a tiny blue flame on a rising tail giving her more light than the hearth, as she looks over my chest and stomach. With her bare bosom so close, breasts rolling about with each shift of her shoulders, I am pleasantly distracted from my aches. If I drag her closer, one of us would rip off her loincloth faster than we can blink, yet I'm barely able to get an arm against her back as it is. The meal and comfortable bedding has sapped the strength that saw me through the night. That passion, like so much else, must wait for a new day. When we're safely in her home once more, however, neither eight-tail nor nine-tail is safe from my grasp. It doesn't matter how battered and beaten I am. I want them both at my sides. "You're not walking up the mountain," Saki declares, palm resting against my ribs and pulling me from the pleasant future. I follow her gaze, but I don't look any more bruised than I expected. She shifts, leg bumping my unbandaged one, and I see the red swelling to match the ache in my shins. The battering my legs took is exactly as bad as I thought. Walking tomorrow will be a painful effort even without what I did to my ankle. But with a sturdy stick I should make it up the mountain, even if it will take most of the day. Except I'm not alone. Saki is here, and Rin should be coming down the mountain soon. I don't need to be so stubborn. "No, I'm not walking that much tomorrow." The last taut rope of tension in Saki is cut free, the eight-tail descending upon me. She curls up against me, cocooning me in fluffy tails and warm blankets. A few shifting shuffles get us comfortable against one another, an arm draping over my chest while her other gets behind my neck. Invitingly soft breasts push against me, bringing naughty thoughts and plots, but having her with me is enough for tonight. "Welcome back," I hear my wooden tongue whisper. What a terrible day it has been. But we're safe now, in each other's arms, and the nine-tail we're missing will join us soon. All the rage, all the fear, all the battle fury, and all the worry floods through me in place of my blood. "Rin will come looking for us," Saki whispers, kissing my cheek and nuzzling into me as if I might blow away if she lets go. I might. A faint breeze could carry me away right now if it weren't for her, all the will and stubbornness that's kept me going nowhere to be found. I have to take a few deep breaths to not crumble, finding strength in the one beside me. I must nod. I don't think I say anything, though. I just get hold of Saki's hand and close my eyes to fight away any need to speak. --- "I'm sorry I can't do anything for your pain," Saki murmurs. I blink at the darkness, unsure of whether I stopped thinking for a while or slept through the pain pulsing in my ankle from each beat of my heart. Her regretful apology brings me back and gathers together the wall of willpower that's kept me going since my fight in the hut, sturdier than before. "You're doing plenty." She understands why my voice is so thin. She knows, as a warrior and a woman. Tails and blankets wrap tighter around us, Saki refusing to let go of me. Not just for my sake. Neither of us can stand the thought of skin and fur not being as close as possible. I'm so lost in having her against me, I don't notice I end up on my side beneath a nest of blankets and tails until it happens. And of course cushions are there to prop up my sprained ankle, thanks to her sly and limber legs. "Egil," Saki whispers, stroking the side of my head, "I'm not as skilled as Rin. But I can help you sleep, if you want." "Hm?" I grunt, unable to find words quick enough. Fear makes her hesitate, bringing me farther out of my haze. "I will need to step into your dreams," she barely speaks, "but I can let you fall into a calm sleep. If you want." I breathe in Saki's scent, the oil of her weapons and the woman beneath, before blindly pulling her breath closer. With a kiss that makes her tails shiver, my fingers reaching to the back of her head and stroking through fur, I whisper, "If I ask, will you and Rin join me every night?" A barely whispered, "Yes," is all I hear before she sneaks onto my forehead a kiss that makes my eyelids heavier than iron. --- Warm summer daylight beckons where there's no pain from fresh bruises nor old aches. There's only an eight-tail kitsune beneath an ancient oak's shade on a hilltop, sitting and watching me nervously. That blue dress of hers, patterned as a mountain, is bunched up as she hugs her knees. Even from fifty strides away I can see the guilt hanging onto her unguarded heart. Her eyes go wide when I charge up the hill. Resigned fear of chastisement turns to a surprised, yipping yelp when I grab her off the ground and hoist her onto my shoulder. It's too nice out and my mood disagrees with shade, so I carry her off. Slowly, the eight-tail realizes my intentions. I bring her towards a nice spot by the river, and on the way we begin to plot against her nine-tailed sister for the next time she's here. By the riverside, on a soft patch of wildflowers, I set her down like a cherished prize. The moment the eight-tail's feet touch the ground, she's yanking my belt off. Sly and slippery, somehow she dodges behind me. Leather comes free as I twist and hop, nearly falling over as the wily fox tugs off my trousers. Scampering back two steps, she holds her prizes up victoriously. Right before turning on her paws and fleeing. Rather, pretending to flee, if not tauntingly skipping to sway her hips at me. This devious- I'm no less swift out of trousers than in them, the look over her shoulder one of shock at how close I already am. Eight tails swish, her steps bringing her over a low stone fence. I stomp onto it, grab her sash, and we tumble over with laughter into the soft bed of wildflowers beyond. I pull hard to get her clothes, the whipping sound of victory rising above my head, leather bouncing against my arm. That's my belt, not her sash. The eight-tail shuffles between my legs, escaping behind me and lifting my stolen trousers as a banner. This time the look over her shoulder is confident as she weaves through the field with me storming right after her. She hops up on the stone fence, skipping along, tails just out of reach. The chase jumps to another field, running towards the longhouse. We pass a heap of hay and I swing the loop I made with my belt up, cinching it against a lifted paw. A glimpse of shocked brown looks back at me before she tumbles into the pile, and I fall right in after her. --- The caws of a blackbird snap me awake, the sounds coming from the roof I stare up at with one eye. I blink, shifting my head and getting a fox ear off of my face as Saki stirs. "What is it?" she breathes, instantly aware and honed body tensing. The bird caws again, wings fluttering and talons clinking against tiles as it flies off. My heart's thunder slows one pounding beat at a time. I only realize I've got my hand on a dagger's hilt as Saki shifts against me, an iron needle gripped in her fingers. We both stare up at the ceiling, a lump in my throat keeping me from speaking in the light of day that peeks into the building. "A bird," Saki relaxes. "-A raven,-" I mutter in my homeland's tongue. She props up on an elbow, looking at me, then the ceiling with concern. "What?" "That sounded like a -raven,-" I tell her, willing my fingers to uncurl from a cold hilt. "A large black bird. But I haven't heard one in so many winters, I could be mistaking it for a crow." "Hm." Saki sits up, tails shifting yet remaining atop me to keep away the chill. "It could be from the tengu." That's not as unsettling as the thought of more than my ancestors watching me. I'm far from my homeland, and distant from any lands with ravens, yet stories cloud my head. "Or it could be winter nearing an end," I say, not wanting to think about the god whose ravens whisper the world's secrets into his ears; I'd rather remember more of that dream I shared with Saki. "The tengu can borrow the sight of crows," Saki explains, single tail shuffling behind her. "I will look for a message." "I'm coming with you." "Not with that ankle." "With your help I can lean against the doorway while you look around." Saki accepts it as a compromise with a slight nod. After getting dressed with her help and helping her tie those uncomfortable bindings on her chest, she doesn't let me get up right away. First she undoes the loose bandages on my leg, replacing them with tighter ones and using several slats from a shelf to keep my ankle from moving. It's cumbersome and hard to move with after she wraps my foot up in a blanket over that, but it should keep me from injuring it further. Standing is as miserable as I expected. But I stay upright on my own. By unspoken agreement, my sword slips into Saki's sash while the daggers remain on my belt. I lean on her and we make our way outside. The sun stands at midday. Thin shadows stretch from the many trees and branches surrounding this hidden building. The stony, root covered entrance we came through is as we left it, along with last autumn's leaves scattered about. I don't trust it, keeping a hand on my new dagger. Saki, her mask left inside, eases me against the open doorway. A parting squeeze of my hand is all I get before she jumps, grabs the eaves of the building, and neatly springs up to the roof. The last I see is the white tips of her tails. The tiles click and clink with her steps, for my benefit I'm sure, as she paces about up there. My ears strain, something feeling off. It's not just the sudden quiet from the kitsune. A blur of fur drops from the roof, Saki landing in a crouch with a hand on my sword. Her other palm is held up for silence. There's not even the rustle of a breeze through the trees. We wait, listening intently, as the hair on my neck stands straight. Faintly, far away, bronze rattles. It rings and rattles closer. Coming right this way, the sounds are too uneven to be bells. It's more like four or five of those ring covered staves the monks carried, shaking with uneven steps. "Get inside," Saki urges. "No," I utter. "You hide on the roof. We will-" Leaves rustle, a few sticks snapping near the only path into this clearing. Saki's dagger on a rope dangles in her hand, I've got a dagger held for throwing and the other for fighting, and a faint shimmer passes over me. A glamour from Saki, to help hide me? I don't get to ask. Someone whistles, imitating a songbird. Dark cloth suddenly rustles through the entrance way, the sheen of a sharp sword leading the way. "She's here!" calls out a raspy kitsune voice, one hand lifting the mask over her eyes while she rests her broad, curved sword against a shoulder. "Hibiki?" I hear Saki ask. There's a half nod towards the eight-tail, but the rough looking six-tail is too focused on what's behind her. The jangling rattle of bronze hurries towards us. All at once, shoulders bumping against each other, five more kitsune bustle through the entrance way all talking over each other. Tsubame, Shizuka, Akemi, Hotaru, and Miyu throw questions at Saki. Hotaru and Miyu are dressed for a fight, bows on their backs and straight swords in hand, while Akemi holds tightly onto a bundle of the monks' staves. And following behind them, in a simple gray dress with the hems of her sleeves ink stained, comes a nine tailed kitsune. She stares right past her sisters focused on prying what has happened out of Saki, shares a nod with the eight-tail that carries a meaning I miss, then meets my gaze with a smile that I can feel the relief flow from. "Egil," Rin breathes, steps quickening. I sheathe my daggers just in time for the master of the mountain to slam into me with a tight hug, uncaring of anything like position. Akemi fidgets, Shizuka does a double take, and Tsubame raises a brow, while Hotaru and Miyu glance at each other. None of them say a word. Past the shoulder I cling onto, I see Hibiki roll her eyes as she slinks towards the gathering. Against my side, the warm, familiar feeling of Saki slips into the embrace. She whispers something to Rin, clutching onto me as if we're about to wash away in a storm, the pair of kitsune almost smothering me in a sudden swarm of tails. I catch a glimpse, for just a moment, of Hibiki frozen in her tracks, jaw slack in utter shock at what she sees. Rin breathes deeply against my ear, distracting me from fangs while she pulls back just enough to kiss my forehead. She grabs my hand, Saki's as well, and with only a glance disperses her sisters. "Let's get you two inside, then we can share what's happened," Rin says to me and the eight-tail. "And mind his ankle." Fur and tails flow about. Suddenly, Rin and Saki get their arms under mine and lift me off the ground to bring me inside. I quietly vow to get them both for this.