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"We're here," Saki says, her soft voice bringing my legs to a shaky halt.

The walk to the baths slipped by in a blur. We stand outside the familiar sturdy wooden door. White smoke rises from behind the baths from the stove heating the waters within. If Saki wasn't supporting me, I'd give up and lie down at the entrance of the bath. I don't get such a chance. With her tails curled up against me, chasing away the cold that settled in my flesh and bones, I can focus on how nice soaking away the small aches in my body will be. And perhaps the after-battle weakness will pass less painfully with my body soothed in that relaxing water, letting my mind and instincts untangle just enough for me to be a person again.

When I don't say anything at the arrival to our destination, Saki opens the door with one hand, supporting me all the while with her other arm around my shoulder. The steamy heat within billows out, welcoming us in as she leads the way. Her tails move about, two lighting lanterns by the door with blue flames that flicker to life at the white tips, while the few not holding me shut the door behind us.

"Tails must be useful," I mutter half-mindedly.

"Only when they aren't in the way," she says, and her even tone leaves me unsure if she's trying to be lighthearted or serious.

Not that I get a chance to feel out which it is, as she urges me to sit on a stool near the door then helps me get my boots off. Once I'm sitting down on something other than cold, hard stone my hands start to shake. The events of the day hit me with an eerie clarity. I nearly died to the ravenous fangs of man-eaters, but that's not what has my fingers trembling. The one I was supposed to protect was wounded, forever scarred if not maimed, because of me.

Rage, hate, guilt, despair – it all hammers down on me. Dark thoughts swirl and slash at me, trying to drag me to the ground as a quivering mess. I resist the feelings, clenching my toes against the ground as I endure. As bad as this is, I've handled much worse. I'm not caught up in the sensations of memory yet, only the remorse of not being stronger, in body and mind.

Hands, soft with silky fur but firm from sword calluses on her paw-like pads, hold my shaking fingers. Saki crouches before me, her brown eyes looking deeply into my unfocused stare. Just like her touch, there's a gentleness tempered by strength in her gaze. "It's okay," she says, the certainty in her voice causing my back to tense.

A fleeting fear of hurting her cuts through the storm of regret, self-hate, and exhaustion. But it fades as swiftly as it came about, done away with by the realization that she hasn't shown me her teeth or claws once so far. A tender concern that has nothing to do with pity. More importantly, I realize she can stop me if I lose myself and turn dangerous. Yet, what truly weakens the dark mood trying to overtake me is how she looks at me. What those brown eyes and their hidden depths see can't be some wild, savage, shattered excuse for a man, or a dangerous beast. She couldn't look at me so tenderly if I were any of those, there would be only the stern coldness. Instead, there's only kindness and compassion in the openness of her gaze.

I hang my head, in part to avoid getting thrown off by her closeness, but more importantly to make it easier for me to focus on breathing as I was taught. It's something I can do, some small measure of control I can retake over myself.

She says nothing as I work my lungs slowly, refusing to let them gasp panickedly. Saki remains silent while tremors and shakes sporadically rock me. I persist through it all, even when the sight of Miki having her tail bitten off and her horrified screams flash through my memory with a painful realness, as if it were happening all over again. As bad as that is, at least it's overshadowing the flickers of hungry fangs lunging for my blood. Both are terrible, but one fills me with regret and disgust at my failures, while the other would drag me into a waking nightmare where everything around me is a potential threat if it took root. The regret and guilt is practically a mercy, in a way, even as it tears at my guts.

Saki holds my hands through it all, being there for me without judgment or misguided pity. As if she knows that what I need aren't words of encouragement or comfort, but the simple presence of someone trustworthy.

I breathe in and out, all the while fighting against the fearful desperation in my lungs and the thunder of my heart. I know why this is happening. I'm at the edge of falling apart now that I don't have to focus on survival. I tell myself that crumbling into a spiral of self-pity won't do me any good, that I just have to breathe and let this pass.

Exhaustion starts slowing my sporadic shivers while my tempered, focused breathing begins to drain the frightful feelings coursing through me. I sit still for far too long, gathering myself back up into being someone that can eventually speak, until the steamy heat of the bath brings forth a few drops of sweat on my brow. Only then do I lift my head, looking up at the beams of the wooden ceiling and letting out a burdened sigh. A single word makes it past my lips, "Sorry."

"There's no need for any of that," Saki says, bringing my hands together. She holds both of them, and I can hear her move just a little closer. "I understand what it can be like after a battle. The pain that has nothing to do with the body. The regret. The harshness aimed at the self."

I look down, my vision swaying for a moment, the ground coming closer while receding at the same time. It might be the heat and my weariness dangerously mixing, but at least I'm no longer cold. I stare at Saki before asking, my voice rough and quiet, "I don't suppose you know any secrets about dealing with it?"

"Aside from convictions or strength of will," she whispers, a compassionate sorrow melting away the last remnants of her stern composure, "I do not. But if there's anything I can do to make you more comfortable, then please, tell me."

I stare at her, the understanding in her eyes disarming. Words thoughtlessly find their way out of my mouth, "Did I do right by your family?"

A stupid question, one I regret instantly. Yet I'm too tired to retract it or find a way to avoid her answer, so I watch as Saki's eyes soften.

"Of course you have, Egil," she murmurs. "What happened to Miki isn't your fault."

Deep within her beautiful eyes ringed with white fur, is a purity that leaves no chance for me to doubt her sincerity. I can't run from it, leaving me to only speak my mind. "A victory for others, but a failure to the self, huh?"

"Hush," she murmurs, slowly removing a hand from mine and leaning in towards me. She embraces me with one arm, while keeping my hands firmly held in one of hers, and pinned against our chests. "You saved her."

With a great strain on my will, I keep my eyes open as I shake my head. "Not how I should have."

"Shush," she chides gently. "She's here, safe once more, because of you. You're full of doubts and pain because you're exhausted from protecting and surviving."

My head and heart swirl with a storm. "Why?" I ask, voice raspy and unsteady as it tries to break.

She leans back to look uncertainly at me, perhaps sensing my question has nothing to do with what she's said. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you care about me?" Those words leave me confused, as even though I mean them, I don't know why I'd ever ask her. This is the wrong place and the wrong time for those sorts of doubts, yet it's there, hanging in the air.

Saki is quiet for a few of our shared heartbeats. I hadn't noticed it until now, but with the closeness, I can feel the steady thump of her heart, the sensation pleasant and unsettling all the same.

"Is that all?" she says softly, something like relief in her soft voice. "You know I care about you, and you wish to know why?"

Too deep into it to run away, I nod.

The tenderest hint of a smile turns up her mouth. "I do not know the entirety of the why myself. And I am no master of words but I will try to explain, if you wish. Later, however. After you've eaten and been checked for wounds." She pats my hand, expression firm and pleading with me to offer no argument. When I don't, either from exhaustion or a desire to believe in her, she continues, "Good. Wait here a moment, I'll be right back. You need to drink something, and then we will get you washed."

I blink and wonder if she's trying to avoid the question. But no, it's wrong of me to even think that. This is a side of Saki normally hidden away by an icy exterior. She's the same pragmatic and duty focused woman, but now I can see glimmers of compassion in the soft set of her eyes and mouth. She's worried about me and trying to look after me while I ask stupid questions and forget my own wellbeing.

She pats me on the shoulder and hurries back out the one entrance to the building. I clasp my hands together, grinding my palms together to focus on something that's more real than those guilt and fear woven memories. My knuckles go white and my arms faintly tremble by the time the door finally creaks back open. I flinch, releasing my tight grip, but nothing more. My fingers start to relax when I see it's just Saki returning. She hurries in with a steaming earthenware cup held in both hands, her tails pushing the door shut behind her.

The eight-tail urges me to take the cup, the heat from the hot water within sending a wave of needles through my chilled hands.

I drink lightly, expecting it to scorch my tongue if I'm too quick. Instead the burn is as pleasant as a fine wine, the warmth passing easily down my parched throat. I drink more, but have enough of a grip over my instincts to avoid greedily gulping it all down lest I make myself sick. I pace myself until it's all gone, Saki patiently waiting nearby, her hands folded in front of her.

I breathe a little easier, a flicker of life returning to me. Yet it's nothing more than the flicker of the stars at night, not the warming sun. Hardly enough for me to regain my strength, but I appreciate it all the same, as it gives some small shred of hope I'll recover no matter how fleeting the relief proves to be.

"Thank you, Saki," I murmur, holding the now empty cup, staring into the bottom of the glazed clay. "I'm starting to wonder if you know my limits better than I do."

Her ears twist ever so slightly, before focusing on me. She crouches, takes the cup from me, placing it on the ground, and pats me on the arm. "I know exhaustion all too well," she says quietly. "Now come, let's get you washed. It should refresh your body, if not your spirit."

There's no point in me being stubborn, nor giving into those bristling doubts and regrets crawling all over my back. I simply give in and let her help me off of the stool. The weakness in my legs has my knees teetering on the edge of buckling, but with Saki's arm on my shoulder and her hand on mine, I don't drop to the ground. She moves me past the curtained divider, deeper into the bath. As I watch the smooth stone floor, I spot the drain running along the side of a wall, a channel of stones that vanish underneath a lacquered board that must hide where it leads outside. The stone work is so precise it looks like a single slab webbed with uneven lines where the blocks fit together.

My unfocused mind has a moment of clarity about how beaten down I truly am. Until Saki brought me water, the last time I drank anything was last night and it was well past midday, nearing evening, when we even arrived at the top of the mountain. It could be night again for all I know, what with these baths lit by only a few lanterns as far as I can tell. More lanterns, I notice dully, than I saw Saki light when we came in.

Food and more water will help, I decide, as Saki stops me by another stool. She lets go of my shoulder, then my hand a moment later, but she stays right next to me. As if expecting I'll tip over. Which, admittedly, I might if I move too quickly.

"Can you undress?" she asks, the unspoken offer of her assistance obvious even to my addled thoughts.

"Thankfully my arms still work," I mumble, turning to the side and getting my belt. I didn't realize I still carried my sword until I have my belt in hand, the weight of my blade almost doubling the heft I expected.

Saki moves closer, slowly and deliberately in my line of sight, and takes my belt and sword. I nod at her trustingly, to which she dips her head and carries it back past the divider, keeping the curtains open with two tails as she sets my belt on the stool out there. She has a reverent, respectful demeanor as she handles my meager possessions. Almost as if it's part of her warrior honor, or perhaps a sacred duty as host. Maybe both, I muse.

She returns, letting the curtain flutter shut. The look of slight concern she gives me reminds me that I need to be undressing.

I hesitate at disrobing in front of her. Yet, I sluggishly recall that she's seen all of me before, and helped bathe me as well, so now is no time for modesty or trying to protect her sensibilities. I fumble with the clothes wrapped around me, at least until Saki takes half a step forward and starts fussing with them. She moves with my weak struggling, my body quickly remembering what to do from when my arm was broken, as it lets her do the rest. I somehow don't get in the way of her stripping me bare, even if some bit of my pride wavers.

Once my clothes are off, all that's left is my pendant and the gifted charm hanging around my neck. My silver pendant won't be hurt by some water, but I don't want to ruin the charm. Fingers fumbling at the cord, I manage to take it off. I hold it, unsure of what to do with it, when Saki gingerly takes it from me and sets it in the alcove on the wall.

"That charm might have worked," I say.

"All the more reason to keep it from getting wet."

She quietly instructs me to sit while she sets my dirty, blood crusted clothes aside. She gets a bucket, a clean rag, and sits beside me. Wetting my bare skin, she starts to scrub away streaks of dried blood, most of it on my chest and arms. I flinch away at first, but force myself to be still, reminding myself that I have nothing to fear from her. I have no doubt she can see how tense my back and shoulders are, but I also know she won't mention it.

There is only the sound of water splashing and dripping for a time, until she surprises me by speaking. "Egil, I do not wish to unnerve you. But I need to look at your neck and head. I believe some of this blood was yours."

"A moment, then," I utter, breathing in deep to fight the tension settled into my sinews.

Her patience holds out long enough for me to mostly center my thoughts. I don't know if her touching my head or neck will make me lose myself as so far she's managed to wash my back, arms, and chest with only a few twitches from me. Just to be certain, I close my eyes and nod. She can no doubt stop me if I have a shameful moment of being overtaken by old memories, but I'd rather not put her in that position.

No sooner do I nod, does she say, "Keep your mouth closed."

It's a good thing I already had my lips drawn tight, as she dumps a bucket of warm water over my head.

It's not refreshing, nor is it unpleasant. I simply keep my eyes shut and wait as rivulets run down my cheeks and through my beginnings of a beard. Sweat stiffened hair relaxes as Saki dumps another bucket over my head, her words coming in over the pattering drips coursing off of me. "I'll be looking at your scalp," she says, clothes rustling lightly as she moves behind me.

I breathe out, hold it a few moments, then inhale deeply. I nod and somehow don't come out of my small seat when her fingers brush through the back of my hair. Thoughts of claws start tickling my skin, a cold fear pouring down my spine, and I can't allow it to get worse. I try to distract myself, lest I fall into a waking nightmare. "What were those things? Those sarugami that attacked?"

Saki works slowly, moving through my scalp meticulously. I wince as she touches a spot, but stay in my seat despite my fingers trying to curl up. She must sense it, as she chooses to speak now that she's found a tender spot. "They were once monkeys revered as kami, and acted as protectors of shrines and mountains to the north and south," she says. "Long ago, that is."

Kami. A word I've heard before in this land, but not often. I don't fully understand the meaning. I think it means anything from a spirit to a god, as I understand the concepts, but I don't ask. That's a realm of scholarly and priestly argument that means little to me. Spirits, gods, tricksters, faeries, monsters - all different names for magical, possibly otherworldly beings that I believe far too much in. I have far too many scars from them not to.

I breathe out, the chill down my back warming up. This is proving to be a good distraction already. "So why are they man-eaters instead of venerated mountain monkeys?" I ask, hoping to keep my thoughts away from panic.

"Sarugami stopped being revered after the missionaries from the mainland gained power in the capital. I do not know which happened first, however." Her fingers brush past my ear, then start back up over my head, making their way to the other ear. "Whether the people started treating them as monsters to fear and kill like oni, or if the first Sarugami gave in to the savage bloodlust that dwelled within. Both happened, so it does not matter to me. They're no better than bandits, pillaging mountain settlements and travellers."

"Perhaps they were always violent."

"They weren't," Saki utters, stopping her prodding of my scalp. "They once served faithfully. They only turned their bloodlust against enemies of their gods and the faithful. Until the mainland sent its new beliefs over, that is."

"Odd," I mumble. "That sounds similar to what was happening to the lands south of where I'm from. Quite a few tricksters I met weren't happy with how things were changing with the ways of men."

"Times always change. It is up to us to continue to live virtuously even as the lands shift," she states, gently stroking the top of my head for a moment. It's so gentle that, despite how unexpected it is, I don't jump.

Just as swiftly as her tender touching started, her hands withdraw from my head, but not before trying to smooth down my hair. I'm so caught off guard, I don't ask her how she knows those monkey man-eaters were once peaceful. Instead I wonder why I'm drawn to her, and why she is seemingly drawn to me? A pointless question, but much more pleasant to think about right now.

"You have a welt and a few scrapes on your head," she says. "Along with a few bruises on the rest of you. Try to rest for the next few days."

"I will if I can, but I'd like to keep my body and mind sharp," I say, not meaning to be stubborn, but simply aware that another tragedy or crisis could strike.

"Rest tomorrow," she instructs, offering no room for argument. A moment later her tone ever so slightly softens. "The day after, we can start training again. If you'd like."

A moment of sluggish thought is all I need to answer. "I would enjoy that. If it won't cause problems."

Saki, still behind me, places a hand on my shoulder. I can feel her stand up through the contact, but she doesn't push down on me at all. It's simply as if she wants the contact, or perhaps that's my wistful thinking and she merely wants me to stay seated.

"Do not worry. Rin and I reached an understanding," she says.

Weary from the day, tense from the washing, on edge from the memories clawing at the back of my thoughts, and unsure of how much I should prod, I hold my tongue. If the two sisters have reached an understanding, or an agreement, then I'll find out in due time. Saki walks around me, my focus on the floor and not the roll of her hips. Pointless and maybe even against what she hoped, but now is not the time for me to be distracted like that.

She stops at the curtain divider and turns to face me. "If you would wait on entering the bath," she says, bowing lightly, "I unfortunately have several things to attend to. I can try to make you comfortable here, or bring you to a room where you can rest."

Another odd twist and turn, but thankfully it's one that doesn't leave me unable to respond. "Why do you want me to wait on getting in the bath?"

She dips her head slightly deeper. "I fear," she says, voice bereft of any guard, "coming back to find you passed out face first in the water."

The urge to say that won't happen rises, then passes without me acting on it. I try to give her back the same concern she's showing, and ask, "Do I look that worn down?"

Saki remains in her deferential bow, several quiet heartbeats passing before she answers softly. "Yes."

I let out a long, low sigh. Of course I look worn down. I've been thinking about it the entire time, yet here I am, trying to trick myself into believing I'm doing better than I feel.

"You're right. Forgive my foolishness," I say, dipping my head slightly. And regret it instantly. The floor doesn't come at me, but my head swims, like I'm being tossed about on a ship beset by waves. I at least stay seated normally, but that's about it.

"I am relieved you understand," she says, rising from her bow and stepping towards me. "Let us get you somewhere you can rest while I attend a few errands. Like getting you a meal ready. Then we can get you in the baths after."

I hold up a heavy hand, trying to urge her to stop. "If you don't mind, I'd like to rest with my back against something solid. And the walls in here seem perfect for that."

She considers what I said for a moment, glancing about at the stone walls. "I will get you some towels to sit on, and cover yourself up with."

As soon as she's spoken, she gets moving, going behind the curtain dividing the room. Only she doesn't leave the building. Perhaps she's going somewhere past more curtains? I wasn't paying much attention to the layout of this place when we entered, but it is large enough to house a stone bath that could comfortably fit a dozen men my size without our elbows so much as touching. And the rest of the space in here is at least four times that size, probably closer to half a dozen.

The curtain parts once more, the eight-tail emerging with an armful of cloth that's piled so high she has to twist and tilt to look past it. She sets it down, puts a large, soft linen towel over my shoulders, and then goes about arranging the rest in a spot near the empty corner. An area that gives me a good view of the entrance, if that's what I want. Something a warrior, or wounded animal, would want. Or perhaps it's because Saki watched how I acted during all the morning meals, my eyes always taking stock of the entrances.

"Will this do, Egil?"

"Wonderfully," I utter, starting to rise up on weak legs.

Light on her feet as ever, she slips against my side to offer silent support. Unfortunately, my stomach tries to rise into my throat, a shiver of tension trying to creep back down my spine as she walks with me. I want to enjoy the closeness, but I feel the panic I staved off trying to return. The hot, foul breath of recent memories tickles my nose.

Maybe it is a good thing she's going to go run errands. I could use the time alone to try and gather myself back up, after safely falling apart some that is.

"Hopefully," I begin, voice tired and serious to my ears, "none of your younger sisters try to sneak in here."

"Yell at them to get out if they do," she says, ice creeping into her voice and eyes, her mask-like demeanor returning. "Or tell them I would like a word with them, if they have so much free time to bother an honored guest."

I have a feeling that saying that to them would send any of the kitsune, except Rin, running with their tails stiff as iron behind them. But unfortunately, I'm more likely to yell in a panic, and not necessarily anything that would make sense depending on how bad I get.

"If you can," I mutter, gut sinking at the truthful request I'm about to make, "I'd appreciate anything that would keep them away. Being alone for a while might help me recover more."

Saki helps me sit down instead of answering right away. I pull the towel over my shoulders tight, happy for the covering that extends down to my knees considering my lack of clothes, and rest the back of my head against a wonderfully sturdy backing. The stone is even faintly warm, or at least not unpleasant, against the tender spot on my scalp.

"I think I have a way to keep them out," Saki finally says, reaching to the wall and retrieving the charm she and Rin gifted me. "If you do not mind, I will borrow this and place it on the door. My sisters will recognize it and know to stay away."

If that charm does anything I want it by me, but this is a sacrifice that seems mostly reasonable.

"Go ahead," I say, the words hard to get out calmly. Regardless, I force more out. "That charm seems to have worked. I slept well, when things were calm."

A tiny smile tilts up the edges of Saki's mouth. "I am glad, Egil. I'll return before it is truly night, and I'll be certain you have it back by then as well."

To that I nod, trusting that this nonsensical plan to put the charm on the door will keep her sisters away. It seems to have kept the usual terror and hungry fangs out of my dreams, so maybe it'll keep out kitsune that think they can be helpful by trying their chances at seducing or 'helping' me.

Saki bows once more to me, then whisks away behind the curtain. I hear her gather up my belt, and presumably my blood and mud stained clothes, before the door creaks open, then shuts with a clunk. A heavy sigh rolls out of me as I rest my elbows on my drawn up knees and my face in the darkness of my palms.

As memories war with each other, all of it tainted with the agonized shriek of the two-tail and teeth snapping at me, I force myself to start the breathing exercise once more. Bouts of shivers that have nothing to do with the cold shake me, and the worry of losing myself completely gains ground by the moment.

Until, shamefully, my entire body trembles and I'm fighting to keep my breathing normal.

The teeth, the claws, the fear. I feel it all over again, huddled against that wall and trying not to make a sound. I try to endure the terror of tiger teeth and the putrid, hungry breaths washing over my skin, my heart trying to hammer out of my chest. Vicious, man-eating hunger and fury snarling and baying for my flesh and blood. Gouging, ripping into my flesh, eager to break through to the bone and split it open, exposing marrow and my beating heart.

I gasp in a sharp breath, eyes opening on an empty room that I have to tell myself isn't that jungle.

I can only hope no one sees me like this, or makes the mistake of trying to come close.

I don't want to hurt anyone again.

If I hurt Rin, Saki, or any of their sisters because of this I'd leave the mountain.

Fingers digging into the sides of my face, lungs sucking in breaths that shake my entire body, I grind my teeth as the horrors of the past, both old and recent, prickle against my skin. It assails my senses, thoughts and memories, guilt and fear, until I wish for nothing more than the stillness of nothingness to wash over me.

---

Wood creaks, rousing me from peaceful emptiness.

I lift my head from its odd angle against a bundled up towel, all my joints stiff and my eyesight blurry.

When did I lie down? And how did the waking nightmares end long enough for me to succumb to sleep?

Last I remember, I was trying to keep still and just breathe as the memories of the tiger-headed man-eater assailed me along with gnawing terror that someone might come in and get hurt if I mistook them for part of the violent memories. Only I somehow drifted off. I push myself up and off my side, sliding up against the wall.

The room is darker than I remember, the thin hint of light cast from thin gaps in the shut door telling me the sun has either set or is about to. My heart thumps heavily and my teeth grit as I'm put on edge, but I'm more in control of myself after collapsing. Exhaustion hangs over my shoulders, sapping my limbs of their strength, but this is a tiredness that's taken more with it. The edge of maddened terror is gone, my mind much calmer. I feel more here in the present than in the memories and waking nightmares, and with any luck I'll start to feel like a person once more. Or at least fake my way into seeming like one. To help with that, I make sure there is part of a towel wrapped around my naked waist, and don't question why I'm feeling better.

There's a few soft sounds, from the clink of ceramic to creak of wood as if someone is standing up from a stool out past the curtained off area. A moment later a trio of tails creeps past the curtain, my heart leaping into my throat. I plead silently for it to not be that three-tail Akemi, when in comes Saki, the sight of her black tipped ears and brown eyes collapsing all of the tension built up in my back. I let out a sigh and drink in the sight of her, trying to fill in the exhausted emptiness within me with something pleasant.

She's no longer in her warrior's outfit, having swapped it for a simple white dress and a blue sash around her waist. In one arm she balances a lacquered tray laden with several bowls and cups, and in the other she carries a small ceramic jar and rolls of bandages. She sets the tray on the edge of the bath, then comes up behind me, the jar and bandages in hand. Only she doesn't start applying anything to me, instead setting that on an alcove in the wall.

Perhaps seeing my confusion, she says, "For after the bath. Wet bandages won't do you any good."

Since that makes sense I bob my head, gaze turning back to the tray, unable to see what those dishes hold. "When did you return?"

"Quite a while ago," she answers plainly. "You'd fallen asleep, so I did what I could to keep your dreams calm."

"You can do that?"

"I let the charm do most of the work," Saki says, dipping into a slight bow. "I hope it was not unwelcome."

I shake my head right away. "Of course it's welcome. I should be thanking you profusely for some dreamless sleep, but I don't seem to have the energy to find the right words for that."

"Knowing that you're content with it is more than enough," she says with a tiny, bashful smile and flick of her ears. "Oh," she motions toward the tray, clearly trying to direct the conversation elsewhere, "if you were wondering, the food isn't cold. I kept it covered and heated."

Since I'm so reluctant to accept gratitude, I can't exactly force her to hear mine out. So I nod, glad that Saki appears to have understood I truly am thankful for whatever help with peaceful sleep she gave me. "I don't think I have the strength to turn down food even if it was cold."

She grabs two empty buckets and brings them over, setting them upside down in front of me, before going back to the tray. She places it on the buckets, making an improvised table of sorts. Instead of kneeling on the damp stone floor, she crouches and starts lifting covers off of bowls.

The smell of rich broth, steamed rice, herbs, and pickled vegetables assails my senses. Hunger, entirely forgotten until now, makes itself known as it chews at my gut. But it doesn't get sated right away, as the first thing Saki does is hand me a cup of something reeking of a pine tree.

"Medicine," she explains. "The bitter kind. But it will help more than water in recovering your strength."

I sniff at the drink, and get a whiff of more than pine needles. There are a lot of herbs in there, many of them far less appealing than the brew made from steeping sprigs of pine. But I have no reason to mistrust her, so I throw aside caution and tip it back. I get half down before the taste stops me from swallowing anymore.

Lowering the cup, I let out a cough into the back of my hand. "That's worse than bitter. That's like drinking a foul, rotten tree," I sputter.

She nods, her calm expression unchanging even as she sees what must be a stupid look on my face. "It is much worse without the pine."

"I believe it," I murmur, pulling a scowl before drinking more of it.

Half a dozen bitterly putrid, toe curling tastes roll over my tongue, but I'd rather finish it now than be tormented with one sip at a time. It doesn't all go down on the second gulp, so I have to endure a third. Somehow, I empty the cup. I don't even bother to hide my disgust. Saki, expression placid, takes the empty vessel from me and sets it on the other side of the tray, far away from me where it belongs. I breathe out, glad the taste isn't clinging to my tongue too badly, and realize the medicine has already had an effect. A floating, light feeling in my head is clearing up and the edges of my vision seem to have more color than before.

My hands don't feel quite as weak either, making it easier to handle the bowl of stew she hands me. I hold the spoon passed along with it and stare at the broth. The smell is that of mushrooms and boar if I'm not mistaken, but the stew is quite thick and rich, like it has been cooking most of the day. My mouth tries to water, but it doesn't seem to have enough spit for that after the foul medicine. If it even had enough for it before.

"Pace yourself," Saki insists, "but do not worry about manners. The medicine will have helped with being parched, but that doesn't mean you won't get sick from eating too fast."

"Me being parched explains a lot," I say, recalling this feeling from a few times I was without water or sweated myself stupid before.

I was so focused on keeping myself and someone else alive today, I didn't have the ability to truly think about my condition beyond whether or not I could keep moving.

I drink some of the broth straight from the bowl, albeit slowly so as not to worry Saki. She remains crouched beside me throughout the meal, handing me different cups and bowls as I try not to stuff my face. I feel my thoughts and mind clear up, a fog I hadn't been entirely aware of dissipating with each sip of water and small bite of food. None of the dishes are piled high, instead there's a variety of modest portions. Hunger makes it all taste good, even the pickled radishes, and before I know it there's only a cup of warm water left. When Saki sees that I'm not eager for it, she picks it up and sets it in yet another well hidden alcove right by the bath itself. Then she moves the tray past the curtained divider and stands before me, a few steps away so it's not as awkward with me on the ground.

"You seem to be in better health now. I can leave you to your respite if you wish," she says, dipping her head.

I might regret this, but with how at ease the fearful part of my heart is, it seems right enough to risk. "If you're not busy, or needed for something, having some company would be nice right now. That nap has me almost feeling like it's a new day, so I think I'm safe to be around once more."

Saki, ears twisting to face me, regards me for a moment. Then she says, quite softly, "I've never felt threatened by you." While I take that in, and wonder if she means that she's never personally felt threatened, she continues with more confidence. "I'd gladly keep you company, if you do not mind it being me."

"Would I really ask if I did mind?"

She thinks on that for a moment before nodding. "No, I suppose not." Sitting back slightly, the eight-tail seems to want to say something else. But after a dozen or so heartbeats of her keeping silent, I try to gently prod her into speaking.

"Is something amiss?"

"No," she shakes her head. "My apologies. I am merely wondering about how you're doing, after all that's happened."

"Well," I sigh, too weary to lie or keep my thoughts to myself, "the food, water, and sleep all seem to have me less intent on drowning in guilt. Though I suppose that's the kind of person I am, after the cowardice that led me to this far off land."

"No warrior that's seen what you've done would call you a coward."

"You and Rin heard about what I mean," I say, my mood turning somber as I look up at the ceiling. "Running away from kith and kin, it's a shame that nothing I do will ever wash away."

"If you do not mind me asking," she begins cautiously, eying me for permission, that I give with a short nod, "how old were you when that happened?"

I breathe out a heavy sigh. "At least I'm too tired to break down this time," I say. "I was old enough I should have sought the glory and honor of joining in a war that we were being goaded into. I've forgotten much of the details, but it wasn't our war, it was foreign. Glory, riches, and prestige awaited all young men that could carry a sword and shield, yet I couldn't stand it. I ran away in the middle of the night, turning my back on everything."

"I see," Saki says, a spine chilling understanding in her warm voice. "I am beginning to understand why you are so harsh on yourself, Egil. But if it was the you of now, would you do it again?"

I tap my pendant, then look down at her. "I don't know what I'd do. But I did run, so it's my shame to carry."

"That's something I understand all too well," she murmurs, the heaviness of her words pulling me away from my own sullen thoughts.

What could have happened to Saki, of all people, to give her a regret deep enough that she understands? That wasn't an idly spoken attempt at sympathy. She's too unguarded for it to have been anything of the sort.

"Well," I sigh, displeased with myself for talking about something so shameful and miserable to hear about, "that was then. And this is now."

"True," she nods. "But please. Keep this in your heart, Egil. All I know is the you of now, so that's all I can judge you by."

My lips draw tight at that. What is it she sees, then? I can't hope to know, but I am certainly curious.

Saki, meanwhile, gains a guarded look about her, but there's no unapproachable coldness in her eyes. It reminds me of our sparring more than anything, when she'd look at me with a gaze that betrayed none of her intentions and focus. "Forgive my abruptness, but there is something I wish to speak with you about. If you do not mind something complicated."

"Go ahead. Something complicated sounds like it will keep my thoughts from straying into melancholy guilt, if I'm being honest."

Her head bows. "I hope I do not ruin that, then. As there is something you deserve to know about, Egil."

Because of her earlier remark I'm left wondering. Is she hinting that she has her own guilt and shame she wishes to share, or is it something else? Instead of worrying myself pointlessly, as I've done so much of that I'm too tired for more, I keep my guard up around my untrustworthy emotions and ask, "What is it?"

"I..." She shakes her head and closes her eyes. Saki can't look at me, but her ears stay focused on me. This is so unlike her, it's obvious that whatever this is truly about is beyond what she can comfortably hide. "Rin and I have an agreement regarding you, and each other. I do not feel it right to tell you all about it without her here. Nor do I feel it right that I'm here alone, no matter how pleasant your company is and how much I wish to be of use to you, yet she's insisted it is okay." She breathes out, gathering herself as she looks at me. Brown eyes, the light of the lamps gleaming in their dark, enticing depths, stare at me. She continues, but much quieter as she dips into a deep bow. "Forgive me. My thoughts are in disorder, and I am ahead of myself. But, before I try to put something sensible together, would you hear a selfish request of mine?"

Maybe it's how exhausted I am, or maybe I've gotten comfortable with her, but whatever the reason, I find it easy to answer. I'm finally feeling something like a person once more, even after falling apart while alone, and it's in no small part thanks to her. "Of course. Tell me what it is, and I'll do whatever I can."

If I can help with whatever bothers her, I'd be glad to. Not only to occupy my mind, but because I'd like to assist her for change, if I can.

The tips of Saki's tails squirm, before vanishing out of sight as they bundle up behind her. Still in her deep, polite bow, she says, "I want to show you something that is not what it will seem at first. But it is something I can only do if you..." her voice wavers for a moment, but she manages to press on. "If you do truly see me as a woman. And if some part of your heart still wants me."

The hairs on the back of my neck and arms try to rise. What in the nine realms is this about? What is she planning to do or ask? I take a quick, quiet breath and refocus myself. Freezing up won't do any good. I answer, best I can, with, "Of course I do. Of course I still want you." It just starts falling out of me, my tired lips unable to lie or stop. "I've been thinking about you and Rin, a lot. You're both women I'm drawn to, for different but similar reasons. My heart is unable to decide, even now, and I..."

My tongue is like wood in my mouth and my heart is thumping madly from telling the truth about my feelings. Thoughts I half-acknowledged are one thing, but speaking it aloud is something else entirely. It makes it real, so real even I can't deny it now. Whatever plans I had about dealing with this situation crumble away, not that I had much more than conviction to begin with.

Saki, however, isn't thrown off. She rises from her bow, looking at me with the barest hint of vulnerable relief in her gaze. But it vanishes swiftly, her expression drawing tight into an unreadable mask. She turns her back to me, a spike of worry stabbing me through the chest and gut, the fear of upsetting her as I did Rin weeks ago clawing at my veins. All because I mentioned her sister as well.

Saki glances over her shoulder at me, her vulnerability kept in check by a grateful determination. "Please do not worry at all," she says, voice empty of emotion despite her expression.

She turns her head away, but instead of leaving she starts adjusting her clothes. I can't help but worry about it when she bares her shoulders, shrugging them out of her dress as she opens up the top of it. But of all the kitsune, she's the last one that would try to openly seduce me, right? Part of me wouldn't mind, of course, but this isn't the right time or place.

I can't help but question that as she pulls her arms free, baring her back to me. The sash around her waist stays where it is, keeping her clothes on, meaning all she bares is her shoulders and the tightly wrapped bindings around her chest. Which she starts to undo, unwrapping her chest bit by bit. I'm keenly aware of my utter lack of clothes, and for the first time today, glad I'm so tired. Or else my loins might be stirring at the mere thought of Saki undressing so close to me. That would be way too complicated when I doubt I could hide it under the meager towels I've got over me.

I could stop her with only a few words, of course. I could probably even get up to help her and she'd let me, if not allow it to go much farther. There's even the coward's option of trying to flee or get into the bath, and pretend as if none of this is happening. A few frightened, wounded parts of me want to try each of those.

Instead, I sit and wait. This is important to Saki, so I should trust her word and intentions. And I suspect that I may not be wrong about her wishing to share some deep, hurtful history after all.

Once her chest bindings finish unraveling, she lets out a small sigh of relief. Her arms cross over her bosom, and a couple of her puffy, winter fluffed tails rise to aid in covering her front. Glancing over her shoulder at me, her expression that same empty as before, Saki takes a few steps backwards and sits on her knees, uncaring of the damp floor. She has her back to me and is sitting in the rigidly proper way of this land. Still staring over her shoulder, one of her eyes meets mine and she speaks so softly it's barely above a whisper. "You've told me of your scars, and what you think is your shame. It is only right that you know I have my own. The kind a fellow warrior would know about."

She reaches over her shoulder, darkly furred fingers parting the orange coat on her back. "You will begin to understand," she says, looking forward to avoid my gaze, "if you feel for yourself."

It doesn't quite feel real to for this to be happening after I nearly died.

Yet here I am, heart thumping quickly in my chest with trepidation. Thanks to my unexpected nap, I have a bit more distance from all the misery and danger that happened. So whether it's proper or not, I do as requested.

She's close enough I don't have to reach out far for my fingers to brush against her silky fur. There's no flinch from Saki, not even a hint of a twitch in her ears or tails, as I feel through her fur. All that happens is her hand retreats. She spoke of scars, so I reach my fingers deeper, my hand slipping through fur pressed down tight by those chest wrappings. It's soft, warm, and oddly intimate. Touching someone I want to trust, and who is putting themselves in such a vulnerable position, drives away how odd this situation is.

"It's slightly lower," she says flatly, tone tightly controlled. "Next to my shoulder blade."

I search lower, trying to ignore my fascination with how her fluffy pelt feels against my skin, and come across a patch of fur that feels thinner. My fingertips reach an odd gap in her fur, and reaching deep enough to touch her skin, I feel the uneven lump of a scar.

Saki's head dips forward, my hand freezing. "Feel it," she whispers. "Please."

I do as she asks.

I trace the furless scar that matches the line of her ribs instead of going down her spine. Is it over her ribs, or is it in a spot just between them? What could have caused this scar on her back? A strike from a battle she turned her back to, or more likely, a strike she never expected?

She wanted me to find this, so she might want me to ask about it as well. Pondering is pointless when I can do that. I take a risk, casting aside politeness and hoping the gentleness I feel comes through in my voice. "What happened?"

"I trusted," she says softly. "That's how I earned this mark of warrior's shame."

"Saki," I breathe out, trying to imagine what trials she's been through in her long life. "I'm sorry, I don't quite understand. But I want to."

"What greater shame is there for a warrior than to have a wound on their back earned from fleeing?"

A cold, heavy weight presses down on me. So that's what she meant by I'd be able to understand as a fellow warrior. "But earned by trusting?" I ask, still not fully understanding. "There's clearly more to your story."

She nods, but doesn't say anything else.

Well, that's not telling me to drop it. So I don't. "If you're willing to share the tale, I'd like to hear it. As your friend." I bite my tongue, silently chiding myself for being a coward, and add, "And as a man that wants to know much more about you."

The eight-tail is still for several anxious heartbeats. I realize, belatedly, that my hand is still on her back, my fingers still on her scar and my palm resting in her inviting fur. Should I pull back?

No. I don't think I should. Not this time. She'd let me know, or pull away herself if she were uncomfortable with contact. My weak spirit is just trying to find ways and reasons for me to escape something that matters, that's all.

"Egil," she says, barely above a whisper, "can we get more comfortable? This is not a story I wish to tell sitting like this."

"Of course," I say, willing myself to finally withdraw my hand.

Her tails wrap around her, enveloping her from both sides. "Forgive my impropriety," she says, voice growing small, "but could we share a bath?"

How do I answer something like that? Not just today, but at all?

I sit back on my stool, hands on my knees, trying to find some way of expressing how improper of an idea that must be. Only for me to remember that I'm completely naked, and she's already shrugged off her dress and removed her chest bindings. She might have her back to me, but it's not like she hasn't seen me in my entirety already. Worse, it's not as if the two of us weren't once a hairsbreadth from giving into a mutual passion, that grew from simply being around one another and the trust needed to spar. I've been falling for Saki, yet instead of agreeing to something that will keep her talking so I can know more about her, my foolish self immediately tried to think of a way out.

I told myself I was done doing that with her and Rin. I have to keep my word to myself if I have any hope of changing. And to stay true to myself.

Swallowing as much bitter fear as I can, I manage to find words at last. "Saki," I begin.

She glances back slightly, her head hardly turning, but the gleam of her eye is a beacon in the dim room.

"You're certain this won't cause problems with you and Rin, or all three of us?"

Her tails press tightly against her as she turns on her knees, shuffling around to face me. With obvious difficulty she meets my gaze and nods, her mouth a hard line of concentration. "I want to tell you what she and I agreed upon, but," Saki murmurs, eyes flicking down to the ground, then hesitantly snapping back to me. "I swore not to. We both did. To give our agreement meaning, we have to tell you together. But rest assured. Nothing you do can cause trouble, so long as you follow your heart. That I can tell you."

That's not entirely true, but I get what she means. It won't cause problems. Or at least, she believes it won't.

This would be a brash, and certainly foolish, request to agree to. But it's Saki, and I want to agree. Past all my fear, I want nothing more than to get closer to her, and if it were Rin I'd feel the exact same. I can at least turn down anything untoward or too intimate with good reason. After the day I've had, even if the both of them were here and saying things I dare not dream, I'd want to keep it to talking only. I'm too tired and confused for anything more.

"Then if it won't cause trouble," I say, standing up, and trying my best to turn so she doesn't have to see my partly towel covered front too much, "let's get more comfortable. Soaking my aches out sounds too good to pass up."

I reach the edge of the bath, intending to get in the water first before I lose my nerve altogether.

I stand there, staring at the steaming water, and try to remember if it had a cover on it. I thought it did, but I wasn't exactly in the right state of mind to be taking in details when I came here.

That forgetful distraction stalls me long enough for Saki to step up beside me. She awkwardly covers herself with her tails, but I can see, even out of the corners of my eyes, that she's slipped out of her dress. I don't know what she did with her clothes and I don't feel right looking around for that, not with her naked beside me, so I grit my teeth and get into the water.

I'm acting, and thinking, like a fool. But I'm navigating a perilous, narrow path with a wavering heart, so it's to be expected.

Hot, pleasant, waters slide over and around me as I step in and sit down in the bath, letting the heat engulf me up to my collarbones. It's enough of a distraction that I don't notice Saki slipping in next to me until the water rises and splashes over the stone sides and onto the floor. She sinks down swiftly, keeping the top half of her tails from submerging. She keeps one arm over her chest, and while the water is dimly lit enough that I can't see far beneath the surface, her bosom is large enough she can't begin to hope to hide the shape. A fluffy collar of white neck fur extends down between her breasts, each of which is orange like the rest of her fur.

I look away quickly, but not before noticing she does the same. Staring at a wall, I'm grateful for the exhaustion in my bones and joints, as right now there's no way my loins are going to be stirred from just that.

We try to ignore the deeper meanings of this situation, or at least I do. It's simpler that way. I can just let the hot bath work away the pain in my battered body and sap away the tension built up from surviving the ordeals of the day, instead of worrying endlessly.

After a while, Saki stirs, alerting me enough that I don't jump when she speaks up. "Thank you. For indulging my selfishness."

"I don't mind. But to tell the truth, I'm surprised you asked."

I think Saki glances at me, but I don't have much, if any, of her in my sight. There's little doubt in my mind that she wouldn't be that upset by me looking at her in such an exposed setting, but it doesn't quite feel right to me. Not with all this uncertainty in my heart about Saki and Rin. So we sit there quietly, trying to let the soothing waters work the ever building tension out of us, yet it doesn't work. I give her time, intending to let her speak her mind first while I take the time to focus on my breathing. It will do us both good if I calm myself as much as possible.

"Egil," Saki utters, "do you feel ashamed of any of your scars?"

I have to think about that for a moment. The most noticeable scars on me are the ragged, ugly claws marks on my chest, but I have many small, faded marks on my arms, chest, and even a few on my legs. Scraps from my younger years, little wounds from training, injuries earned in battle – my body has been through a lot, but it's all proof that I've survived. "Not the ones you can see."

Saki's hand rises out of the water, dripping water from her fur as she reaches over her shoulder, touching her back no doubt. "Only part of mine can be seen," she says. "The unseen part of the scar that begins on my back, I've mostly overcome. Yet it still lingers, trying to guide me astray at times."

She breathes out a heavy, tired sigh. "Forgive me. I am trying to avoid the story."

"Saki, I'm the last person that could be upset at someone for that."

"If you're trying to say you've felt this way often, you're far stronger willed than I to endure it."

I frown at that, or perhaps at myself. When she puts it that way, it almost sounds honorable that I'm not giving into a nature I shouldn't have. But I've never once seen a hint of her shame, or so I believe, while I know she's seen some of mine.

"However," Saki says, moving forward in the water, creating waves and splashing some out of the baths, "I have avoided my story long enough."

She comes to a stop ahead of me, her back to me and tails moved out of the way enough for me to see. There, among her wet fur, is the scar she had me feel earlier, much more visible with her soaked. With a limber twist of her arm, she even swipes the fur aside, revealing the rough line of knotted skin. I have little doubt the wound was sewn shut shortly after she earned it, and looking at it from a better position, I can tell it came from a blade. A nasty, but clean, stab wound.

"Many years ago, before Yuuko had even been born," she begins, "I wandered the roads of this land. I aimed to hone my skills against those that would try to take advantage of a lone woman, and to throw myself into any conflicts I came across. It was during a struggle against bandits that I met a man, Arato. I joined in and saved him, as he was protecting a few travelers. My swordsmanship turned the fight. Arato was surprised to be saved by a woman, but grateful and polite. I thought him an honorable warrior, and so I joined him on his travels. As we continued traveling, I learned he was on a mission from his lord to visit several shrines to seek certain blessings."

Saki looks back at me, the faint light casting her face in mournful shadows before she looks away. "His reasons no longer matter. I did not quite think we were in love back then, but I thought there was something building between us. I had not told him I was a kitsune, yet I accepted his advances when they came." She's quiet for several moments, as if expecting me to say something.

What would I say? I couldn't care less if she was with a man before, and I've not heard enough of her story to cast any other judgments.

When I don't say anything, Saki continues, her head tilting down slightly. "Even though it's not looked down on among kitsune to never tell someone what we are, I regretted my silence. So as we kept traveling and growing closer, I told him the truth, then showed him when he did not believe me. He was surprised, and I thought I saw revulsion in his eyes. Yet he assured me he still wanted to continue traveling together, and hinted that he wanted more. I was delighted, and willfully ignored what I saw in his eyes. I, like far too many kitsune, was too caught up in being with my first."

Once more she falls silent, but this time I don't let her suffer through wondering what my thoughts are. I say, "If you are worried my feelings for you will dry up or change now that I know you aren't a virgin, they won't. When it comes to women, I only care about oaths and faithfulness being kept."

During my blunt expression of my thoughts that not all men share, Saki twisted to face me. Brown eyes stare with disbelief that, the longer she looks into my unwavering look, starts to fade. When it dawns in her eyes that she wants to believe me, her ears quiver. "Do all men of your land think that way?"

"Most did. I certainly do, and I'll thrice swear that I do, if you need me to."

She turns away quickly, looking intently at the stone wall ahead of us. "That's not needed," she mutters. She breathes in heavily, and then sighs out, "I was not certain if it would matter. Thoughts from the mainland have been changing opinions over the centuries. I do not know if they've changed yet again, or if your people valued it."

"If it eases you at all, even that talk of centuries doesn't matter to me."

Her ears twist and flick, as if surprised by me. But not displeased in the slightest, from the look of things. "I," she begins, "should finish my story."

Even though she can't see me, I nod for her to carry on. I also lean back, pressing my stiffening back against the stone of the bath, feeling something pop pleasantly in my spine. While also irritating a bruise over my shoulder blade.

Saki, meanwhile, gathers her composure and continues. "A few days after I told Arato what I was, we stayed at a roadside tavern. He acted as if he wanted to be with me, as I truly am. Then he betrayed me. He waited until my guard was truly down. He stabbed me, intending to pierce my heart from behind. Only a peculiarity of my birth saved me." One of her hands rises out of the water, laying against her chest on her sword-arm side. "As if I am a mirror of my twin, my heart is on the opposite side, so he only hit my lung."

My own heart sinks. She trusted this man, Arato, and was willing to not only travel with him but try to build a relationship with him, and in turn he tried to kill her? Because she's a kitsune? I'm revolted and, admittedly, furious that anyone would do such a thing. I can understand being upset at such illusions, but it takes far more to justify a betrayal than that. I clench my jaw and breathe out, letting the worst of the anger flow out. He's long dead, or at least I hope he is.

"I was terrified," Saki murmurs. "I staggered away from him, knife still in my back, and looked toward him. I was certain we were attacked by hidden robbers, but it was only Arato in our room. Staring at me with shock and hate. He went for the swords by the wall. I could have restrained him, even weakened as I was. But I couldn't understand. I tried to ask why, and he came at me with the sword, shouting how he'd gift his lord the pelt of a demon fox."

I can see her shoulders slump as her tails curl around her protectively. "So I ran," she admits painfully, voice on the edge of tears. "He was half-dressed and stumbling. I could have stopped him with ease. Killed him. Subdued him. Anything. I'd trained relentlessly to be the ideal warrior. Instead, I ran."

It doesn't matter how long ago this happened. That it happened at all is astounding, but it's utterly shocking that despite it, Saki still dared to try and get close to me. I could say something to try and assure her that nothing like that would happen with me. Or ask her about what it is about me that drove her to offer herself to me, even if I hadn't known that was what she meant at the time. But that isn't what I think she wants right now. Nor is it, if I am being honest with myself about how my heart feels, what I want.

Against all better judgment, I softly move forward, disturbing the water and making it splash over the sides. I go around the side of the bath, following the edge, until Saki can see me from the side. Then I go to her, trying to ignore how my stomach is in my throat, and reach out.

Wild, hurt eyes watch me. Afraid, but not of me – she fears her own scars and past. I can't help but wonder if I've looked like that. Seeing it makes me unable to pull back as I put my hands on her shoulders. She tilts her head down, but she doesn't pull away from me, or even shrink. "Saki," I softly say, "how long has this been haunting you?"

"It would be easier if you meant my shame from being a naive woman and a warrior that fled," she whispers. "You don't, do you?"

"I mean how long has my presence been making it worse?"

"You haven't." A sigh, tired and defeated as it is quiet, slips past her lips. "I will try to explain. I hope it answers part of your question about why I care for you, as well."

Her ears pull back slightly as her gaze grows unfocused. "It started when you were recovering from your broken arm. I wanted you to help save Meiko, but you already know I didn't purely offer myself to selfishly persuade. I had begun to feel myself drawn to you. I could not help it, not after I began to understand your sense of honor. A horrible risk, one I knew all too well, but that I do not regret." She sighs, shoulders sinking closer to the water. "My interest in you grew stronger by the day, until I regretted deeply how I offered myself. I want to save Meiko, but I don't want to use you. I want you, who looks at me with such clear and strong eyes, who cannot go against what you believe is right, to be happy. Even if it's with Rin and not me."

Saki's expression breaks under a torrent of agony inside her. She bites her lip, but quickly stops herself, self-chastisement pulling her mouth tight. "Egil, I am so sor-"

I cut off her apology by hugging her. It's not just because I could see tears starting to roll down her fur, even as her voice remained strong enough that it hardly wavered. I embrace her because it's so overwhelming to hear that she cares about me, my arms couldn't stand it and had to bring her closer. Even if it's wrong, even if it's foolish, even if I'm simply desperate to feel connected to someone I want to trust. There's a sting at the edge of my eyes that has nothing to do with the hot bath water splashing about from my sudden movements. Maybe it's from how much of a drain the day’s events have put on my body, but hearing someone I trust express sincere care for me – it hurts just as much as it stirs happiness and longing in me.

How weak of a man I must be to feel a measure of misery at the same time I'm overcome by a pleased warmth in my chest.

My embrace earns a tiny, delayed gasp from Saki, the high pitched sound a lot like a yip. Yet she reacts quicker than my addled mind expects. As I hold her, I sense the flex and twist of her honed body as her arms hook around my back. Fur that smells ever so faintly of incense and wood smoke tickles the side of my face as she rests her head against mine. Several of her soaked tails are pressed between us, but I'm still all too aware of the cushiony squish of her bosom against my chest. If my heart wasn't trying to rip apart from beating so swiftly, while also trying to joyously and anxiously leap out of my throat, I'd worry about that. Instead, I just let myself feel her body against mine, or so I try. A tremor of fear courses through me at the thought of losing control of myself.

Being this close to her pushes that worry away, when it should make it burn even brighter. The rise and fall of our chests against one another with each breath centers me, somehow. Perhaps I only imagine it, but I swear I can feel the faint beat of her heart close to my own, the faint, frantic rhythm calming.

"Egil," she murmurs warmly, my name so sweet from her lips it sends a contented sensation racing down my spine. "Do you still want me to try to better explain why I care about you?"

"I think I understand some of it," I mutter. "Some of it is a mystery, but that's fine. Some things don't need to be said."

"Some things must be said, however," she breathes out. Her hands ball up against my back, and a hint of seriousness creeps into her voice. "Such as I don't fear you hurting me, even though I fear betrayal." Her voice wavers slightly as she continues, "And that I need to hear if you're ashamed of a warrior like me who would flee and never look back."

"Saki," I whisper, a hand reaching lower down her back, fingers brushing the marred skin of scar, "this isn't a shame in my eyes. I ran from my homeland because I didn't want to fall into a petty war. I abandoned kin out of cowardice. But surviving a betrayal and fleeing? Your story, it's no different than the scars that tiger beast ripped into my chest." My words catch in my throat, a painful realization that's so obvious crossing my mind. I swallow, and speak it before I try to bury it, "If we're being so candid, speaking what must be said, I'm not afraid of you or Rin. No. I fear hurting someone that's trying to get close to me. Someone I care about, or should protect. I'm afraid of running away yet again, or wounding them when I lose control of myself. I..."

The words die off in my throat. She knows this already, I've told her as much or she's overheard it, but it's a truth that is so hard for me to face, speaking it in such a vulnerable, trusting setting exhausts me. It's as if I'm shedding a great weight from my back, only to replace it with another when I realize I brought up her sister in such an intimate moment.

Saki is gentle as can be in how she squeezes me closer, bringing a few tails around my low back, and even my legs under the water. She nuzzles the side of her face against my head, whiskers and fur pleasantly brushing against my ear and cheek. "I have faith in you," she breathes into my ear. "I'll stop fretting if you will. Okay?"

I'm too weak. Too tired. Too sick of feeling utterly alone.

I bury my face in the soft, plush fur that rings her neck, breathing in the scent of incense and smoke. I find no part of me cares that she's a fox woman. Saki is Saki, and every time I'm around her, I fall harder for her strength of will, the dutiful focus, and the masked compassion underneath. Even with my heart pining for her eldest sister as well, I don't let it stop me from enjoying this intimacy. This feeling of being so wanted that she clings to me, even as I hold her just a little closer, is like a balm against my spirit.

We could push this farther. A hand creeping lower, a shift of the hips, that would be all it takes. Some far off part of me wants to, and I suspect it's the same for Saki. But right now, that's not what I need. Just this embrace and connection with someone who cares about me is enough for my tired bones.

Time has no meaning, yet eventually standing becomes uncomfortable. I lift my head out of her neck and rub my palm across her back in the hopes she understands I don't want this to end.

A breathy, almost whimpering moan rumbles out of Saki. She huffs languidly into my ear, "Forget Rin's plan."

"Hm?" I grunt, feet starting to hurt, but my heart still refuses to back away.

"She and I have an agreement, as you know. But she also has a plan. That I did say I agreed with. But I'm not going to let you agonize over this any longer, Egil." She draws back, but when I try to let my arms fall away, she grabs onto my elbows, and locks eyes with me. "I-"

I hate to do this, let alone say it, but I cut in and ask, "Will it cause trouble?"

Dark brown eyes stare right into my being, but there's not even a shadow of upset on her longing filled face. Saki leans forward, the cleft of her chest rising up in the water until both her breasts are pushing against me, and whispers, "No. I think not. But I do not wish to worry you. I can hold my tongue, but I will have this cleared up. Not tomorrow or the day after. Tonight."

"If it's making a choice between you two, I don't know if-"

Saki's mouth opens to speak, stopping me cold. Only she shuts her mouth right away. She leans forward until her breath washes over my chin and the rich depth of her brown eyes command my full attention. "Do you trust me?" she whispers, the question frightfully uncertain.

"Would I be in a bath with you otherwise?"

Hands slide up my arms, resting on my shoulders. Saki's bare chest drags against me, but it isn't to manipulate me. She puts her nose against mine, eyes content to simply be close. "I promise you," she says, "even with Rin's plan you won't have to make a hard choice. The plan I have will lead to the same place as hers, but swifter."

A hair's breadth from kissing her, I restrain myself. "Okay," I let out quietly, acquiescing. "So, what is your plan?"

---

Fresh from the bath, dressed in new clothes, and dry from some odd magic Saki used where the flames on her tails wicked my skin dry without heat, I sit through Saki putting some sort of poultice on my scalp. Once she has a few bandages wrapped around my head, and she's gingerly looped that charm over my neck, I let her lead me through the home. It's cold outside and the stars are bright in the night sky, but I only have eyes for her and our path.

We go to the communal eating area, Saki opening the door-wall with an impatient flick of her wrist. Inside are all the kitsune from the village, except for Hibiki and Yuuko I note, sitting around the hearths and just starting to serve themselves some kind of steamed buns and some of the stew I had earlier. Several of them perk up and murmur among themselves when they notice I step in with Saki, but a single sharp, wordless sound from Saki's throat stuns them all into silence.

"Is anyone hurt?" the eight-tail asks, voice cold and face her usual expressionless mask.

Hotaru looks at her silent sisters, including a weary looking five-tail huddled in a blanket near one of the hearths, and seems to come to the conclusion she has to take charge. Hotaru stands up and greets Saki with a deep bow. "Hibiki has a fever, and there are a few bruises and scrapes on some of us, but we're okay, elder sister. Aside from..."

"We know about Miki," Saki says, tone softening ever so slightly. "She's in skillful hands, and her spirit hasn't broken. We won't let it. She'll need all of us supporting her, understand?"

A cacophony of kitsune answers. "Yes." "Of course!" "As you say." "We will!"

I clench my jaw, and try not to let what happened to the two-tail get to me. Failing that, I refuse to let it show on my face. Saki wouldn't like it if I started tormenting myself over failing to save Miki from her wounds, and I suspect Rin would hate it as well. And, doing my own part for their injured sister, I shouldn't give into blaming myself unless she or her sisters hold me responsible.

"Speaking of," Saki continues, snapping my attention back to her, "do any of you have news on how our youngest sister is doing? And where is Hibiki?"

Hotaru shifts to a shallower bow, but still maintains a respectful and deferential posture. "You may know more than us about Miki, elder sister. Shizuka has said Miki isn't in danger, and that she's holding it together for now. But we've been told no one is to disturb her rest. As for Hibiki, she is being watched over by Yuuko. In a room away from Miki, of course."

Clearly not happy, but seemingly accepting of the fact she can't do anything for either of her sisters at this moment, Saki nods. "And our eldest sister?"

"I do not know," Hotaru says, bowing apologetically.

"I-I do," Akemi says, slipping forward on her knees and bowing. "I saw her with Shizuka when I went to see how many meals I needed to bring, but eldest sister said she didn't need any for herself. And that she was going to mix medicines for Hibiki then retire for the night, and that we needn't disturb her."

"I see." Taking a few quiet steps forward, Saki waves a hand toward one of the back door-walls. "Someone get two trays ready with three meals, and make sure there is wine. Bring it to Rin's room for us."

Confusion roils through the ears and tails of the younger sisters as they start chattering among themselves about who should do what. A swift decision is made, Akemi and the bashful three-tail Mariko getting up. They open the door-wall Saki gestures towards and I see a larger cooking area beyond, and even what looks like an earthen oven within before they slip in and shut the entryway.

I only know that Saki's plan involves getting Rin to sit with me and her, so using a meal makes sense. As for the wine, well, after the kind of day it has been, I wouldn't be surprised if a few other kitsune drank tonight. I do wonder if the eight-tail intends to have any of it herself, if it's for Rin, or if she's intending to have it keep conversation flowing between the three of us. No matter what the details are, I'll trust Saki knows what she's doing.

With her commands given, Saki turns to me. "Let us go," she whispers, sliding the door out open with one hand, and taking mine in her other.

I can feel the eyes of every kitsune in the kitchen on my back as I leave hand-in-hand with the elder sister who can stun them into respectful silence with nothing but a look. I doubt any of them will be bothering me for a while, though I'm sure they'll start gossiping once they believe Saki is out of earshot. Let them, I decide, squeezing Saki's paw of a hand. I came close to death today, I should try to hold life close tonight.