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I barely sleep, the night restless and a test of my will. I spend much of it with my back to that solid wall, thinking about what I've done. About what I've avoided. After the talk with the two kitsune, it's clear I have to be honest with myself and face what I haven't dared to.

I do care about Rin, I even admitted that to her, but how deep that care extends I don't know. I've been with women a few times, yet I never linger in one place for long. Staying too long can leave hurts on all sides, and the people who ask me to stay don't understand what that would do to them. A foreigner in a village? That's the kind of attention simple folk don't need. Men like me get blamed for tragedies, whether we're responsible or not. Even if I was welcomed, I fled my homeland to escape an impending war. Should I try to settle down, I cannot be certain I wouldn't run away again. Either in a fit of cowardly weakness, or because I'm a broken man who's lost what lets someone anchor themselves to a home.

Yet ever since the tiger-headed man-eater nearly killed me, I haven't been close with a woman, and not for a lack of bodily desire. The temptation of the flesh Miki offered, that I turned down pointedly, was as close as I've gotten, but that was in the private dark before I knew anything of this place. Or maybe waking up beside Rin, feeling content but knowing I should be uncomfortable, was when I'd gotten closest. A pleasure that soothes deeper than a nighttime tryst with an eager, uncommitted girl. But should I dwell on what happened between Rin and me? Does she still feel anything after that misunderstanding?

I don't know Rin's heart.

Fortunately, I do know that I got comfortable enough with her to admit that I'm a broken, battered excuse for a man. Rin has seen the fear that takes hold of my body, felt it around her mouth, yet even then she welcomed me back into her home and offered me compassion. She even admitted she'd grown to feel love for me. Is it any wonder that it hurt her so badly when she thought I tried to deceive her? To say nothing of the rejection she must have felt. Even now, I don't know where things truly stand between us, or if she is certain of it either.

Burying my face in my hands, I groan at myself. Sitting around and hiding did me no favors last time. I need to talk to Rin, to understand more about her and see if I can figure out her heart. I can't run away or ignore any of this anymore. Even if I survive the coming confrontation with the wicked man-eater Kenta, I won't be able to walk away from this mountain without a second thought. There have been moments of peace here, and it's affected me so deeply that my fingers don't twitch toward a weapon out of instinct very often.

I run my fingers through my short beard and shamefully admit to myself that Rin isn't the only kitsune my mind swirls with questions about. It would hurt her to know I can't get the thought of Saki's agonized eyes out of my mind, wouldn't it? Seeing Saki like that made me think of my own quiet, hidden pains. Keeping them inside to protect myself and those around me. What have my ill-thought out words done to her; what did Rin's forcefulness do to Saki? I want the dutiful eight-tail to be okay. Not only because I must fight alongside her, but because some part of me understands the silent agonizing she hides. The notion that it might go beyond simple respect for a warrior makes my jaw clench and head shake.

Was what I said last night true, do I only view Saki as a warrior? I try not to chew my tongue as I think through all of my interactions with the eight tailed kitsune.

Saki saw my terror, but she never judged me for it, did she? She may have put a knife to my neck, but that was only once in defense of Rin. Never again did she directly threaten me. She helped care for me when my arm was in a sling, never once complaining. Even when I stole into her training building, searching for my weapons, she didn't take offense. She brought me along with her, gave me space in the village when I nearly lost it, and even relented to my stubbornness without any threats or belittlement of what help I might honestly offer her. It's like she was trying to look out for me, even when I didn't want or think I needed it. She's been there, right along with Rin, watching over me. Never playing any sort of tricks like Shizuka or Miki. Never pushing boundaries. Always waiting nearby, dutifully ready to help me when I was weak. At some point, Saki's motivation shifted from duty to something else, didn't it? But why?

So many questions and no answers. I hear myself laugh, darkly, and tap the back of my head into the wall to stop it. Of course I'm a fool. I'm sitting alone in the dark, thinking about the two pained kitsune who've admitted they feel something for me, and I'm too indecisive and frightfully cautious to do anything. The gods and my ancestors would mock me if they saw me right now. Agonizing over what to do instead of just making a choice and trying to bed one of the sisters, but I know better than to trust the wisdom of my ancestors and gods about these matters. I've heard enough of those stories.

A familiar, bitter thought crosses my mind, one I've had before about this mountain. I could leave this all. Refuse to get involved, but I dismiss that thought quickly. For better or worse, I am already a part of what is happening with the kitsune family, I feel it in my gut and chest. I have to talk to Rin and Saki, try to get closer to them both so I can make a decision I won't regret, if they'll even let me get near them. All while hoping I don't make things worse. And perhaps, if fortune favors me, I'll start getting more sleep once I begin to understand those two kitsune.

Breathing out, knowing I have to do something to keep myself from sulking further, I start moving my body and stretching my limbs like I was taught. I'm careful not to strain my weak, bruised arm. The last thing I need is to injure it and be forced to wait around recovering once again.

Once light creeps into the room, I stop working my body, wiping some sweat from my brow. I leave the room to take care of what I need to, then make my way back to gather up the belt I left behind. I didn't bring it since I stopped by the bath to try and freshen up with some still warm water. The custom of keeping bathwater drawn and warmed is strange to me, but it works well for washing in the winter.

After I'm clean, I head back. As I turn a corner in the hallways of the main building, I spot a kitsune's back ahead of me, her seven tails and golden hair causing me to duck back the way I came. With last night fresh on my mind, I'd rather go to the communal kitchen right away instead of risk getting near Shizuka. I need to see where things are with Rin and Saki before daring to be near their sisters.

I make it to the kitchen door-wall without seeing anyone else. I slide open the entrance, the smell of millet porridge filling my nose. Only five kitsune sit within, and only three I immediately recognize. Miki tends a large pot by herself, while Saki and Rin, wearing simple white dresses, sit with two of their sisters at a second hearth. The two-tail smiles at me, and even if it's rude, I'd rather not acknowledge her when blue eyes drift up to look at me.

"Good morning. I hope I am not late," I say, offering as respectful a bow as I can manage.

"You're early," the nine-tail says, rising to greet me with a bow of her own. The calm, not overly polite expression she wears stirs some hope in my chest. Maybe things aren't ruined entirely between us. "Where is Shizuka?" she asks. "Did she not wake you?"

"I must have missed her in the halls," I say, not counting that as a lie. "I woke before first light and needed to stretch my legs."

Rin's eyes turn to a six tailed kitsune I've seen before, her limbs lithe and face delicately narrow, but her name escapes me. "Tsubame," Rin says, "would you go retrieve our dear sister from her task?"

"At once, eldest sister," the lithe kitsune says, whirling to her feet. Tsubame moves swiftly past me, and I notice she's one of the few who I don't actually have to slightly look up at. I might even be taller than her, but I don't turn to check. Even if I didn't know the eight- and nine-tail are watching me, I don't want any trouble from Tsubame.

Rin sits back down and motions to an empty cushion beside her. That would put me right between her and Saki, the eight-tail's attention entirely on the pot she's slowly stirring. Resigning myself to an awkward morning, I go over and put myself in between them. Once I do, the three-tail sitting across from Saki decides to silently go over and help, or possibly distract, Miki. The two-tail doesn't care to hide how she looks at me with open interest.

"How are your wounds?" Rin asks, making a point to look between both Saki and me.

Seeing that Saki is in no mood to speak, I start. "I've only got a few bruises and some scratches. The clothes you and your family gifted me saved me from the worst of it."

"My fur will grow back and my bruises will fade," Saki mutters at the pot.

"Well, I am glad you are both in one piece. Eat heartily and you'll recover more swiftly," Rin says, passing a bowl to Saki.

The eight-tail moves without passion or waste, scooping up porridge into the bowl and passing it back. That repeats two times, until the last bowl and a wooden spoon are shoved at me. Taking it and seeing both kitsune beside me already eating, I join in. Midway through the bland porridge, the door-wall opens up. Shizuka and Tsubame return and go to the hearth Miki tends. I glance toward Rin, not hiding any of my curiosity about why we're the only ones at this hearth.

She raises one of her brows at me. "Is there a problem with the current company?"

"None at all," I say, glancing at Saki. She's carefully avoiding my gaze, sitting rigidly and politely while trying to pretend she's not watching me back. There is no way she's here by her own will, but since she is, I might as well say something to her. "It's easy to be around you both. And now, it lets me apologize for last night."

"There's no need for apologies," Rin says. "It is a new day. We can move on."

"Rin is right. And as it is a new day, I will not interfere with you and Egil," Saki says, a pang of regret stabbing me in the gut. I definitely wounded her heart, in addition to whatever Rin's forcefulness has done.

"You caused no problems, Saki," I say. "I do that to myself and those around me, it seems."

I spot Rin shifting, an unusual motion for her. She nods ever so slightly and softly says, "There is nothing to fret over, Saki. Last night is behind us. Let us not think of it."

The chance for me to say something, to both of them, presents itself. Do I admit that I want to know them both better, because I still struggle with how I feel about them and my fears of abandoning what I get attached to, or would speaking about it make the situation worse? I work my tongue over the words, afraid of misspeaking. Only to falter when Saki's mouth opens to speak.

"Rin," she murmurs, "may I have a few days to myself? I need to reflect on events."

"If that is what you need," Rin replies with a reserved nod. "But please, do come join us at the meals and don't take more than a few weeks. We still need you to help train Egil. I will be of no use in helping him regain his strength, and Kumiko and Hibiki are needed at the village."

Feeling as if my chance to mend everything has slipped by, then knowing I'm a fool to think that it ever works like that, I stifle a sigh. I try to encourage Saki, since it seems she needs it, "I would be honored to train with you, Saki. You are a respectful woman and warrior."

Her eight tails curl and coil, until they're all bundled up behind her. My words may have done more harm than good just now. But I suspect they reached a deep part of her heart, one way or another. "I will only need a few days," she says, sounding far too distant. "Then I can start with his training."

Rin nods, and I hold back a frown at myself as Saki withdraws into herself. The rest of the morning is half-hearted conversation with Rin about the winter weather, both of us casting worried glances at the eight-tail. Eventually, Saki excuses herself, followed shortly by Rin, the nine-tail mentioning that she needs to see to a few duties for the day.

"We will see each other at this hearth for dinner, I hope?" Rin asks

I agree with a nod. I'm not surprised the days of us sharing a meal in private are at an end. "I wouldn't miss it."

Unfortunately, that leaves me alone in a room with several kitsune watching me with far too much interest. Shizuka, Miki, and Tsubame all have looks in their eyes I don't trust. Shizuka leans toward Miki to say something, but instead of restraining the two-tail, it lights a fire in her eyes. Before I find out what those two are planning, I excuse myself and return to my room. My time alone won't be wasted. There's much I can do on my own to regain strength and prepare myself for the battle ahead.

---

Days pass slowly. I spend much of the time alone, the kitsune seeming to be busy with chores all day, so I occupy myself by walking the grounds or working on my knife carving skills with firewood. When I cut the wood too deeply it's easy to toss the mistakes into the fire. Sleep continues to be a fitful struggle, but I find if I sit up against the wall I don't wake so frightfully, which leaves me feeling somewhat rested. My limbs are tired and sore, but my scratches and bruises are fading quickly. It seems my body has gotten used to healing within these walls, considering how much of my winter has been spent doing nothing but that.

I barely see Saki, as she is quick to eat her meals and then excuse herself. Rin I see more of, and we talk during the communal morning and evening meals, but she's busy with work the rest of the time. I learn from her that she's preparing charms and talismans for their sisters in the village. She won't tell me what they're for, but it's obvious they have something to do with the looming conflict with Kenta. I don't press her on it, knowing that sometimes secrets are valuable weapons. If we're going to war with the oni then it won't be to their benefit if I know everything. Not when I might be taken by Meiko and Kenta if things go wrong. After all, once the weather is warmer and my body in better shape, I'll be going up and down the mountain as bait for the wretched man-eater.

"My work will take me at least three more weeks," Rin says on the fifth day since that disastrous talk, grimacing apologetically at me as we eat a morning meal. "Once I've finished, I'd be happy to try and host a quiet dinner with you, Egil. If you still wish to share such a thing."

Frightened and excited by the idea of spending evenings talking with her again, I don't immediately respond. I want to ask when we'll start the plan against Kenta, but that can wait until she's done with her work. Which leaves me to worry about Rin. I haven't known where things stand between us, but with the way she's testing the waters it's clear she doesn't know either. Yet here she is asking to be alone with me, while Saki sits off to my side, silently listening.

"If you would tell me when you're done, we can discuss doing that," I say, wary of how Saki might feel. My answer clearly doesn't please her, not with how her eight tails roil, but it's the best I can do in the situation. There's no good answer.

The grin on Rin's face is soft and reserved, and perhaps I am only seeing things, but for a moment there seems to be a shadow of hope. Yet her voice is smooth and untouched by any of her true emotions. "We can do that."

Rin and I might be conversing once again, but it's different. I haven't felt a single one of her tails rest against my back in any of our short talks around the communal hearths. Then again, not one kitsune has tried since we returned from the devastated village. Aside from tails laid intentionally in my path when I come to the kitchen, even Miki has behaved. But now that Rin's shameless touches are gone, I find myself missing the warmth that would spread through my back. Watching myself nearly as intently as the kitsune now, judging my own reactions and words as I would a stranger's, has left me with knowledge I should have accepted sooner.

"I have rested long enough," Saki suddenly speaks up, earning my full attention and that of Rin. Is the eight-tail finally done sorting herself out, or was she doing that at all? Saki is something of a mystery, even as her head lowers, not quite a bow, as she looks right at Rin. "I will be ready to help Egil with his training today, if he is ready. Or tomorrow if he is not."

"I've got no hold over what Egil does or doesn't do. This is between you two," Rin says, reaching to the pot to get herself another serving. "I only ask you don't hurt each other."

"It will be light sparring, nothing more," Saki states.

I can't tell if Rin is okay with this or not, as her face and eyes are composed into a calm mask. But I need to start practicing with Saki, and maybe I can start smoothing things over with her if her older sister isn't around. There's something going on between them ever since that talk, and I doubt it's pleasant. Not with how Rin forced Saki to admit her feelings.

"I'm ready today," I nod to Saki, wary of what my words might do to either of them.

"Then I will meet you in my training hall at the sun's peak," she says, looking for approval from Rin.

"I won't interfere with you and Egil," is all the master of the house says.

A wince of regret crosses half of Saki's face, the half that Rin can't see. It's sharp and swift, gone as soon as it comes. Having been on the receiving end of Rin's barbs recently, I understand how much words from her can hurt, even if the nine-tail doesn't intend them as jabs. Those few words, however, I know Rin chose on purpose, throwing back Saki's own insistence she won't interfere in whatever happens between Rin and myself.

"Then if I may be excused?" Saki asks, rising when her older sister gives an approving nod.

I don't watch her leave. I finish my meal slowly, the bland porridge at least easy to eat. Once I'm done, I see Rin and Shizuka deep in a whispering conversation, so I excuse myself. The nine-tail gives me the barest of nods before quickly diving back into her discussion. It seems the two of them are working on talismans together now.

Careful of where I step, making sure to take a wide path around the tails of Miki and Tsubame laid out like traps, I leave the room. It's a quiet walk back to my room, where I sit on the floor and pull a pouch off my belt. The runes within feel heavy without a question I can ask. All the answers I want would involve questions about me, and the runes can't be trusted when I ask them about myself. And I know better than to ask them about matters of love or the heart. Jostling the pouch, feeling the click and clatter of bone within, a question I can ask dawns on me.

I snap the pouch open, only to force myself to stop hurrying and move slowly. The runes deserve respect, and I have plenty of time until the sun reaches its peak. I shake the carved bones out into my cupped hand, appreciating the sound and feel. Focusing on the tongue of my homeland, the reverence of my runes, I work over the words in my mind.

"-Does Kenta have the fox's star ball?-"

The shaped whalebone bounces and skitters energetically, moving with a fury I've never seen before. Pieces spin on their sides, or tumble and flick as if being swatted back and forth. Licking my dry lips, I can only watch as they start to settle, the magic I've touched upon far fiercer than I expected. The last rune settles into place, the spread so scattered I have to stand up to fully appreciate it. Was it naming the oni that caused such a vicious casting, or the question itself?

My eyes dance as I read the layout. I'm certain my father would have slapped me on the back of the head for taking this long, and I'm certain I'd deserve it. The layout is simple to read once I find the pattern. "Victory clings to the throat of the giant," I say under my breath.

I gather the runes up and ask a different question, but one that can get the same answer. "-Where does the fox Meiko's star ball lie?-"

The runes dance once again, but don't jump around nearly as much. They spin and careen, a few flipping themselves over until they finally start to settle. The runes slowly come to a halt, and I can read the layout much more quickly this time.

"Victory clings to the throat of the giant," I mutter, hope rising in my chest. Twice is no coincidence, but thrice and it must be true.

I agonize over what I can ask for a third question, not daring to repeat what I've already asked. I pace around the small room, holding my runes before me in both hands. I talk to myself, switching between a few different languages I picked up, and try to work through this game of words. Finding the right question to get an answer from the runes can be tricky. I start grinding my teeth in frustration, nothing I can come up with good enough to ask the runes or the meaning of words losing potency between translations. I haven't had this much trouble since I had to answer an annoying monk's riddles to get shelter from a storm.

"How am I supposed to get victory?" I complain under my breath.

Only to stop pacing a few moments later. I drop to my knees, shake the runes, and whisper the question I stumbled upon. "-How can Meiko be freed from Kenta?-"

Bits of whalebone go everywhere, moving with a mystical power that makes my skin crawl. But soon they settle down into a readable spread, and I get my answer. I stand up and check from every angle I can to be certain I'm reading it right, then sit back down. "Victory clings to the throat of the giant."

Gathering each rune one at time so I can check for any damage after their violent castings, I soon have a full pouch of intact runes. Tying that back onto my belt, I sit and contemplate my discovery. But not for long. Knowing that I need to keep an eye on the sun, I get up and go outside, the halls I pass through on the way empty. The touch of warm sun on my face and the bite of cold winter wind helps clear my head. With the sun still too low in the sky, I walk around the buildings, following a cleared trail of flat stones. Wisps of my breath trail behind me as I wander aimlessly. I don't have enough time to go work on carvings I won't keep. Instead I make ten laps around the home before the sun rests in the center of the cloudless sky, and I have to go to Saki's training hall.

---

Standing outside the closed entryway, I decide against knocking and call out instead. "Saki?"

Silence stretches for several heartbeats. Then wood hisses and creaks, and I get a look at the eight tailed kitsune as she holds the door open. Saki's in black once more, the cut of the cloth indifferent to her womanly figure, the design purely functional for movement. The fierce white around her eyes nearly makes her gaze look like a glare, but the restraint and distance in her brown stare is anything but angry. She seems empty, and when she silently bids me to enter, I'm certain she feels as lifeless as she looks. It's in the smooth, purely instinctive way she moves, her body acting without a thought.

"Come in," she says, shutting the entrance and walking past me, toward the back wall lined with wooden poles of seemingly every length. "We will start simply."

"Simple is good," I nod. "That means I can tell you something important."

"Talking can be done at dinner. I am here to see what you can do, nothing else," she says, picking up a pair of poles. Each is the perfect length to be called a staff for someone as tall as us. She tosses one to me and leaning the other against her shoulder.

I catch the wooden staff, its heft lighter than I expected. A blow from this would hurt, but I doubt we'll be breaking any bones. I'm not eager to start the spar and let my training weapon tap against the floor, watching Saki for any sign that she'll leap into the mock fight right away. She stands still, so I dare to say, "My runes told me something about Meiko."

She swishes her tails, bringing them together tightly behind her so they can't betray her cold, restrained demeanor. The invisible mask of polite severity settles onto her expression. "We will talk later," she says, snapping her staff into an aggressive guard. "Attack me. Show me how you handle yourself."

Gritting my teeth, seeing she's not willing to open up, I hold up a hand to gain a moment. Her head cocks as I go to a corner, adjusting my clothes so I can take my belt off. The garments the kitsune gave me have clever ties; the only reason for me to wear my belt is so I can keep my pouches and the trinkets within close to me. No reason to let any of that get in my way during a spar. If Saki won't listen to words, then perhaps we can understand each other through controlled violence. I truly do respect her as a warrior, but after the last few days of thinking, I know it's not that simple. Since she won't hear it, so maybe I can show her. Prove to her wordlessly that I was wrong to speak that way.

I take position across from Saki, several steps back. Holding my light staff like I would a spear, my weak arm leading so my strong arm can put its might into the attacks, I rush at the kitsune without warning. She becomes a whirl of motion, blocking and deflecting thrusts while stepping back. The hall rings with the sound of wood clashing and clattering. Her every move is smooth as she avoids my attempts to drive her against a wall and even makes a few counters that have me swiping to block. I have no doubt she could kick me back, but since she hasn't tried anything like that yet, I keep my dirty tricks to myself. Instead, I use the reach of my spear grip to feel her out with each feint and blocked blow, searching her how she thinks and fights.

It goes on for a long time, too many thrusts and swipes to count. Those icy brown eyes, surrounded by stark white fur that's all too similar to warpaint, show me nothing. Not even during a nasty sweep she suddenly spins into, her staff going for my legs, only to ruffle the edge of my retreating clothes. She flows back, staring at me with her guard raised, while I breathe steadily against a heave in my lungs. It's a good feeling, my veins hammering lightly with battle.

"Your senses are good," she says, giving me time to catch my breath. "But you're easy to read."

"With a spear, certainly," I say, tapping my staff against the floor and wiping my brow. It's warmer in here than outside, but I still need to be careful about sweating in this wintry cold. "Then again, we're not taking this seriously. I'd be lying on the floor if you actually tried to knock me down."

"I need to see what you can do, not war with you," she says. After a moment of staring harshly at me, she lowers her guard and waves to the wall with all of its different poles lined up. "Pick what we'll use next."

I raise a brow at her, but don't hesitate in going over to the weapon wall. I set the staff I'd been using aside and search around until I find two poles, each about the length of my sword. They're more like shaped branches or thin clubs than poles, but I've seen the like being used for training before. I snatch the pair up and toss one to Saki, who snatches it out of the air and sends her staff back to me all in the same motion.

She deftly twirls the practice weapon, familiarizing herself with it, before taking a strange guard. Legs bent, one hand outstretched while her other holds the weapon close to her chest and pointing at me. While she holds her position, ready for me to make the first move, I take a few practice swings to get used to the training weapon's weight. Satisfied that I won't have the pole fly out of my hand if I swing it or block a blow, I keep my arm bent and mock sword pointed at her. Breathing in and out a few times to shrug off the weight on my shoulders, I advance slowly, one creeping step at a time.

Once I'm half a step out of range, Saki bursts forward. Her footwork is strange, weaving and bobbing her body and tails, while her outstretched hand tries to mask the approach of her weapon. She goes for my ribs, only to hit a snapping block from my weapon. There's no wasted motion, Saki sliding to my weaponless side. Only now she's in a range I'm used to fighting at, and I'm a lot faster than my size suggests. Worse for her, with only one weapon, I don't have to worry about my weak arm. She can't get a dead angle on me and has to fend off a tight, focused cut aimed at her weapon arm. I don't let her control my weak side.

The kitsune tries to back off with that strange and swift footwork, but I loom and stomp after her. Our quick jabs and cuts clatter wood against wood, until suddenly there's a hiss of pain. We both retreat several steps, respecting this as a light spar.

"That was clever," she says, rubbing her arm where I got her with a shallow counter. That would have barely left a gash with a real sword, but in a fight that means blood running down your weapon.

"Luck," I argue. "If you had a slightly longer weapon, you'd have gotten me three times."

She rolls up her sleeve, fingers sifting through her fur. I can't be certain, but I suspect she's going to have a bruise from that. I got her right in the muscles behind the elbow, a stab of guilt mixing in with pride. A few lumps and bruises are to be expected, yet it shocks me how uneasy I feel about doing that to her. I may not know her any better, but now I'm certain that I care about her. And that I won't disrespect her by daring to hold back against her, as I believe that would hurt her far worse than a few bruises. What warrior wouldn't be insulted from such a thing?

"I counted four times I'd have hit," Saki says, rolling her sleeve down as quickly as she got it up. "But we are not using longer weapons, and I was the one struck. It speaks of your familiarity with close fighting."

"It's rare for weapons to be even," I say, arguing just to keep her talking.

"True. But the difference in our experiences and training makes up for the similarity of our weapons." She twirls her pole. "The sword you use is shorter than the jian and chokuto I've trained with. It's heavier, but well suited for battle."

"Battle defined my people." I shake my head. "And the worst parts of my travels."

"Yet you were always the victor if you are still here," she says, eyes looking into the distance behind me as if she might see how far I've traveled.

I nod, happy to have my first insight into her thoughts. She's not someone stuck up about matters of honor or proper form, which tells me she's seen combat many times. "Thankfully this isn't a real fight," I say with a half-smile. "We'd both be in a lot of pain already."

She nods. Suddenly her brown eyes face me fiercely along with her sword length pole raising in a different, weapon forward guard. "Once more," she demands.

The sparring goes on and on. Our only breaks are when we move back, drink some water she had hidden by the wall, or change out our training weapons.

Saki is pushing me, searching not just for the weaknesses in my battered body but my mind. Going for my weak points, flashing her teeth, flexing her claws. Trying to distract me, see what I do when exposed to what I desperately fear and try to shy away from. But I hold on. This isn't a struggle for my life and, in a way, I trust her. Saki has skill and a finely honed body, while I've got vicious instincts sharpened by a hard life of survival. Those instincts tell me I'm not in danger, even if every hint of teeth makes my spine tingle. I keep from going too hard, restraining the strength of my blows and keeping myself from striking to kill. I don't want to hurt her. Even when I get clipped or tapped with her poles hard enough to leave a bruise, or she tries to shock me with a bestial look, I stay in control.

Saki's face is calm and composed, but her brown eyes burn with sharp focus. I watch her passionate eyes, use them as a means to ground myself. I focus on her, not the flashes of her teeth or twists of her weapons. I see her as she is, a warrior and woman, not what the terror surging just beneath my veins wants me to see.

She's fast, vicious, and efficient. But she holds back with her blows, just like me. She's trying to draw the depths of my reactions out, and I'm pushing to do the same. Every strike I land on her or clever blow I block makes her eyes shine brighter, but not with violence. She enjoys this test of skill. Of throwing our vastly different experiences against one another, with no need for talking. Saki comes to life by our fifth match, the listlessness that's clung to her entirely vanishing. A faint, thin smile stays on her mouth when we change weapons or catch our breath, which is enough to lighten my mood. We can get along after all, when words aren't an obstacle.

After the fifteenth match Saki and I are both panting. We each hold a pair of short poles, and have been for two matches. She got a few good blows in on me, especially on my shield side where my arm is weak, but she's earned a few bruises of her own. I'm used to fighting with a dagger and sword, after all, so even with a weak shield arm and a friendly spar, I'm dangerous. Our welts will go down and the bruises will fade. I have no doubt that if either of us had been serious, we'd have a few cracked bones, no matter how light these training weapons are.

"That will be enough," she nods, lowering her training weapons until they cross in front of her legs.

"That's good," I laugh breathlessly, dropping to one knee and sucking in lungfuls of cool air. I'm sore, and now that it's over, I feel like my head is floating. There will be an ache in my limbs come next morning, that's for sure. "I don't think I can do another match."

"You withstood the mountain air better than I expected. Many find it hard to breathe up here," she says. "I thought it would take me three days to learn what you can do, not half of one."

"It's easier to fight on a cold mountain than in a hot jungle," I say, shaking my head before wiping my brow. "And the cold is no trouble. I grew up in a much harsher land than this."

She sits down, resting on her knees. "Then your worldly experience serves you well. I have much to reflect on, but I am certain you will be useful in the battle against Kenta."

"I'm honored," I say, meaning it. My lightheaded, exhausted body is happy to hear she thinks I can be of use beyond being bait for Kenta. "So what will you have me do?"

"Strengthen your arm, and keep up the practice you know," she says, no doubt meaning my recently mended shield arm. "You're adequate with a spear, but it will be better to have you carrying weapons that won't worry our prey."

"Maybe have me carry an axe back and forth?" I suggest, earning a curious twist of her ears and nearly imperceptible tilt of her head. "It will give me something longer than a dagger, and I know how to fight with an axe about as well as I can hew wood with it."

Her fingers curl up as she lays them on her knees. "That might work. I will consider it." She nods. "For now go wash up and prepare yourself for dinner. I will meet you there once I've put everything away."

Rolling my jaw, some part of my mind wondering whether she means meeting me at dinner or the bath, I search her eyes for any hints about her thoughts. Her expression is freezing back over, but after spending so long trying to beat the sense out of each other, she can't mask all the warmth in her eyes. There's hope that I can break through her icy shell after all, a possibility that I can at least lessen the hurt I've surely done. "Saki," I say, still catching my breath, "don't you want to hear what my runes said about Meiko?"

"I will listen at dinner," she flatly says, eyes cooling.

Struggling not to tell her anyway, I nod. She didn't say no. I can't press her now, unlike in our spar. Perhaps she doesn't want to make it seem like she's intruding on Rin? Or perhaps Saki is uncomfortable talking with me more than she must after what happened between us. "I'll wait for you, then. And thank you for the matches. I'm honored to have your help."

Her ears flick and shoulders tighten. Saki withdraws farther into herself, but the hesitation in her mouth tells me I reached her on some level. "Thank you, Egil," she says, face stilling completely as she becomes unreadable. "For your help with my family's matters. I am sorry I cannot repay you."

What would she offer, if she weren't restrained? Would it be herself, again? It does not matter, my answer is the same. "I'm doing this to help. Not for any rewards."

She doesn't move for several heartbeats. I realize she's trying to measure me out, understand what I may or may not mean. Telling her, would it solve this? No. I realize it won't as her eyes sharpen and she nods. I'm shut out completely now, and know she's given up on words, out of fear or perhaps a sense of duty. She'll need more time so I rise, then give as respectful a bow as I can manage. To my surprise she rises and bows back, but stays silent. I leave, digging my fingers into my palm so I don't look back at her.

I feel I know her much better now, but I want to know more. Her stare makes the hair on the back of my neck rise, but I don't want to upset her by looking back. I can't mend the damage I did to her in a day, but I'm a stubborn wretch. I'll figure out something now that I'm not hiding in a dark room. If nothing else I get her and Rin their sister Meiko back, and put down that man-eater oni.

---

I wash the sweat and some fatigue off at the baths, wary of anyone coming in. To my surprise and relief, it's only me, left to fumble by myself. Once I'm dry, I go to see what's for dinner.

Entering the communal room, I see both hearths glowing and Rin sitting alone at the farthest. Miki, Tsubame, Shizuka, and two others I don't know by name sit around the other hearth. The scent of richly spiced stew hangs in the air, but I don't have much time to think about it before Rin smiles at me. Wearing a simple white dress like the rest of her sisters, the nine-tail waves me over to sit beside her.

I go slowly, taking care not to get close to the tails once again laid out conspicuously by the likes of Miki and Shizuka. They can have their games, but it doesn't mean I have to play them. I circle around, near the wall, stretching my neck and working my shoulders. It's not for show, even if that's certainly how it must seem. I don't want anything to stiffen up after Saki and I tried to beat each other senseless in more than a dozen friendly spars.

Once I sit beside Rin at the only cushion around her hearth, I blink. I notice that right next to me, farther from her, is a second cushion. I hadn't seen it when I came over. I mull that over, looking curiously at Rin as she tends the pot. Did she use magic to hide that from me until I sat down to make me sit just a little closer, or is she ensuring I'll be between her and Saki? If this was even her doing at all. There are other kitsune in here. I can't assume anything about the sisters after I've been so wrong when it comes to Saki and Rin.

So I sit and watch, Rin content with silently humming a wordless song to herself as she stirs the pot. The soft sound she makes is warm as summer, and reminds me of better times. Pleasant to listen to, especially after such an intense sparring session, and reminding me of the nights we spent conversing. It makes me want to accept her offer to share a private meal again, here and now, but I resist.

Eventually, Saki enters the room, dressed in blue unlike her sisters in white. Saki's dress is subdued and simple with its pattern, the lower half looking like dark, snow capped mountains near her legs, but that simplicity makes it all the more beautiful. It fits her, and her quiet strength. Rin smiles at the serious eight-tail, but Saki only bows and gives a formal greeting. "Good evening. I am most sorry for being late."

"It is nothing. Come, sit with us," Rin offers, waving toward the seat beside me.

Saki's eyes don't move, her face pointed straight ahead as she walks with the barest hint of motion. Having been on the receiving end of her martial abilities, I have a new appreciation for her poise and subtle movements. It's so different from Rin's noble, authoritative grace. There's an air of quiet danger to Saki, like that of a masterfully made and etched blade. Had I met either of the kitsune under different circumstances, what might I have done upon learning of their feelings for me? I stare down at the pot as Saki sits close to me, and do what I can to keep from sighing.

What might I have done if I met either kitsune in a different way, and I came to knowof one had feelings for me?

There's tense, awkward silence even when Rin serves us bowls of hot stew and bids us to eat. Not just between myself and the kitsune, but between the two sisters beside me. Eating barely lets us pretend nothing is wrong, but at least I can taste the meal this time. Smoked, probably dried, meat, as well as the faint bitterness of the vegetables mixed with strange spices. But the rich tastes start fading from my tongue as I keep my senses on the kitsune to either side of me. They both watch me, each subtle in their approach. Saki seeing me out of the edge of her eyes, ears tensing every time I shift, while Rin uses her role as server to watch over me and her sister. It takes far too long for our bowls to be empty and stay that way.

"I have something you'll want to hear," I say, folding my hands into my lap once all three of us have finished. "Something my runes told me."

Rin nods softly, her gaze turning to the kitsune at the hearth. "Sisters," she says calmly, "would you give us a moment? It won't be long."

There's no argument, not even from Miki. The other kitsune start to rise, along with Saki. A quick glance from me and shift of my weight, like I'm about to roll onto my feet, stops her. She stares at me, a question on her carefully held face. Is she allowed to be here? Not asking Rin, but me.

"You need to know the most," I quietly insist, wondering if something changed so that she doesn't care if she upsets Rin.

Saki settles back down once the words are off my lips.

"Trust Egil's judgment, little sister," Rin mutters as the rest of their sisters make it to the door-wall.

There's only coldness and distance in Saki's eyes as she nods dutifully. What has happened between the older sisters since that disastrous conversation the three of us had? Is that another secret I'll have to dig out of them, or worse, one of their sisters? I breathe out through my nose, knowing I can't do anything about their rift right now.

I wait until the door-wall clacks shut to speak. "I asked my runes three questions," I say, focusing on the knowledge I can share. "And I got one answer."

"What did your runes tell you?" Rin asks, her blue eyes no longer hiding how they watch me. She's staring almost as intently as Saki with her cold, brown eyes.

"Victory clings to the throat of the giant," I declare, once in the tongue they understand and then again in the first I ever learned. "That was the answer I got when I asked about Meiko's star ball and how to free her."

Saki breathes in, ancient anger roiling in her eyes. "Then perhaps Kenta carries her star ball around his neck?" she says, a dangerous passion filling her expression.

"Can we trust your runes?" Rin asks.

I search for doubt in the blue eyes of the master of the house. She's hard to read, her face polite and serene as she holds herself like a ruler. Perhaps she must ask, even if she secretly wants to believe me and the fortunes I've read. "It was an answer thrice given. I have trusted my life to those," I say. "And I'm still here to tell you about it."

"His runes predicted we wouldn't find the rest of the villagers," Saki says.

I'm surprised to hear her defending me and my fortunes. But I'm offering a scrap of hope through them, a chance at freeing Meiko from the control of the oni. I shouldn't be so caught off guard.

"Say that Meiko's star ball is around Kenta's neck," Rin begins, hands in her lap. "What then? How does this help us?"

"I can prepare appropriate training for Egil and myself," Saki says, dipping her head toward me instead of her. There's a tiny twitch from one of Rin's tails. I had thought it strange that Saki hasn't called Rin eldest sister since that night went so wrong, but now that the eight-tail is acknowledging me over Rin, it's undeniable that the two are still at odds.

"If his runes are correct," Rin stresses.

"Even if they're not," I slowly say, understanding that Rin must have a good reason for casting doubt, "it is something to focus on. We can train in other ways. And if you would both tell me what a star ball looks like, I'll be able to look for it when I do finally face Kenta."

Saki's tails roil behind her as she stares fiercely at Rin. There's something deep and uncompromising in her brown eyes. What has been going on in private? "Do you trust him?" Saki asks, voice flat and disconnected from her sharp gaze.

Rin's shoulders shift. She wavers between the master of the mountain and the tired woman beneath the responsibility and duty. But only for a single heartbeat. She settles on the firm, graceful presence of a ruler, but I don't see it in her gaze when she flicks her attention toward me. I know I'm not imagining the pain within those tired, glacier blue fox eyes. Her mouth answers with a perfectly polite, "Yes."

"Then why don't we show him," Saki says, four of her tails coming around to rest in her lap. "Both of us."

Rin's mouth smiles with politeness that doesn't touch her eyes. There's significance in this exchange, but I don't know why. "If that is what you want," Rin answers.

Saki's fingers vanish into the winter fluffiness of the white tip of a tail, right as I see Rin reach for the neck of her dress. My first instinct is to close my eyes, but both of them are staring intently at me. Silently willing me to bear witness to something. My fingers dig into my palms as I resist the urge to give Rin a measure of privacy. She doesn't open her dress much, but it's enough for me to see the white, winter fur that's given an exotic look to her front. A flash of a silver disk beneath some of that fluff catches my eye, a knot trying to squeeze my heart as I recognize the world's tree pendant I gifted her. She's still wearing the trinket, little better than a gift to get into this house, even after all that happened and my fumbling words. Quick as I see it, the silver is hidden away, Rin's balled up fist pulling back as she adjusts her dress. If the nine-tail is bothered by my staring, her calm demeanor doesn't show it at all.

The two kitsune hold their clenched hands out, leaning forward so I can see. There's a reverence in their eyes, and perhaps a little fear in the way their ears twist. "This," Rin says, unfurling her fingers, "is what you will be looking for."

Balanced on each kitsune's padded palm sits what looks to be a large pearl with blue fire swirling inside. I've seen incredible treasures throughout my travels. Gold and silver worked into all shapes, statues carved with such detail they look like living people, gems that change colors with the sun's light, and they all pale compared to these jewels. The two white spheres are pure and lustrous while the blue flames within prickle and dance beneath the smooth surface, reminding me of moonlight clouds in a night sky.

"They're beautiful," I hear myself say, leaning back as I look down.

There's a change in the kitsune when I shift back. Hints of tension leave their eyes and the nervous tips of their ears. "A star ball contains a piece of a kitsune's very being," Rin says. "Our spirit, soul, and magic."

"Touch mine," Saki says, casting a strange look to Rin before focusing in on me. "You won't want to fear what happens."

"You may as well experience both," Rin adds. "I have heard the sensation can be different."

I realize this is no different than the two of them laying their necks beneath a sword in my hand. I'd feel more comfortable holding a blade in my hand than gently reaching out, but I do it anyway, putting my fingers on Saki's. The gem is cool to the touch despite the flames within and how it's been hidden in Saki's fur. There's a feeling, cross between the tingling of a limb got too cold pleasantly warming up and the soothing feeling of water sluicing over skin, that flows up my fingers and into my arm. Magic, and something far more potent, and old. I lift my fingers away, the sensation lingering in my hand until I touch Rin's. A warm summer wind seems to wrap around my fingers, gliding up and hugging each finger. Rin's star ball isn't as cold, but it's not warm despite the sensation moving up my arm.

I lift my fingers away and sit back, staring at my hand for a few heartbeats. Both kitsune pull back, but don't vanish away their star balls. The jewels are held reverently in their hands as both of them watch me intently.

"Why trust me?" I ask. "How did you know I wasn't going to try something?"

"It was a risk," Rin admits, shoulders slumping as she gives up on holding herself as the ruler of this house. "But you aren't a man who dreams of power."

"You wouldn't have done anything," Saki says, as if that settles it.

I continue to stare at my hand, knowing that the magical sensation might have distracted me when facing Kenta if I didn't know about it. This was necessary, yet the trust Saki and Rin have for me is humbling. Trying to put aside thoughts about love, I wonder if they felt anything when I touched those magic jewels. I wonder who could take something like that and wield it against one they care about. I still don't know my own heart as I should, but I suspect I wouldn't have made the same choices as Kenta.

"I won't be surprised by whatever feeling I get when I snatch Meiko's from Kenta," I say, speaking with confidence I don't entirely feel. I touched what amounts to a piece of these kitsune's souls, the notion they trust me enough to do that disquieting. "I promise, I'll give it to one of you quickly. I won't be comfortable holding your sister's fate in my hand like that."

They regard me strangely, as if something they expected but weren't sure of just happened. Am I really that strange of a man?

"I will hope we're fortunate enough for Kenta to be wearing it openly," Rin says, bringing her jewel to her fluffy neck and letting it roll into her fur.

"I believe in his runes," Saki says, vanishing her star ball back into a tail.

At least the sisters aren't glaring at each other when they stare at me like this. "Well," I begin, "let's hope that's where victory does lie. And prepare ourselves for other possibilities."

---

My sleep continues to be poor and mostly spent leaning against a wall as I come in and out of horrible dreams I don't remember, but it's not enough to affect me during the day. Sometimes I sleep half-decently. Usually on the days when my body is worn down from training with Saki.

Her pace is relentless as she starts a system of training every other day. Some days she has me spend the entire time striking targets she hangs from the beams of her training hall. Other days it's only working my limbs, especially my weak arm, usually by swinging practice weapons or lifting heavy stones in strange ways. I don't argue and put all of my effort into whatever she has me do, the eight-tail watching over me silently even when she's in the midst of her own training. Occasionally she has me do nothing more than hold positions, which would be easier if she were open to talking. But the only time Saki seems willing to talk is at the meals or during our sparring. Even then, almost all of it is about tactics that might work against an oni, but I notice the subtle change in her eyes. She's warming up to me, day by day, her mouth working with words she doesn't yet have the will to say.

Soon, the eight-tail is going to say something that will let me pry a conversation out of her. I only have to bide my time and try to understand her.

As for Rin, I don't see her outside of meals. As the days go on, I begin to see flecks of black in the fur on her fingers, same with Shizuka. It takes a few days before I'm caught staring at a morning meal, where Rin smiles at me, eyes understanding my question before I even have to ask it.

"We've finally started working with ink," she says, lifting her fingers. "We have to stir it often, or else it might get too cold to write properly. Even though we're careful, it still has a way of getting everywhere."

"At least we're nearly done," Shizuka sighs.

She's sitting around the same hearth as Saki, Rin, and me, but noticeably on the other side of Rin, away from me. Saki and Rin are always sitting to either side of me during our meals. And ever since Saki showed up in her nice dress at dinner, Rin has started to wear her blue and snowy dress, as if unwilling to let Saki be the only one standing out during the evening meal. But this morning is the first I've seen them both wear their nicer dresses before the work of their day begins. They still haven't reconciled, and I fear it's getting worse.

Ears twist and heads turn at the other hearth. Miki, her energetic smile worrisome as she looks toward us, speaks up. "How long will you two be working?"

"Three more days left," Shizuka answers. "If we're fortunate, that is. Five if we aren't."

“Maybe we should celebrate when you're done?" Miki suggests.

"Perhaps," Rin says, looking at me and then Saki. The eight-tail impolitely ignores her older sister, and I can't speak since it's not my place to approve or disapprove of anything.

"I think a celebration would be wise," the golden haired Shizuka chuckles, her smile at Miki unsettling me. "I believe we could all use something to lift our spirits after what happened."

The village. They've all carefully danced around that subject in their conversations, but it's obviously been on their minds. And even Shizuka's hinting at it brings the mood in the room down. I realize I'm gripping my bowl too tightly and breathe out to relax my hand.

"Something to raise the spirits would be a good idea," Rin says, looking around the room with wise eyes. "Thank you, sisters. I'm certain we can do something uplifting."

The rest of the meal continues in silence dyed with quiet grief and regret. Even Miki calms down, her ears drooping and shoulders hunching as she focuses on her meal like the rest of us.

Rin finishes her bowl, the first at our hearth. She looks past me and at Saki. Her politeness is thin, letting a more genuine interest come through. "How is the training going, little sister?"

"Good," Saki answers flatly, refusing to look up.

Rin nods, mouth working for a moment. She abandons the attempt at conversation and folds her hands in her lap instead.

Whatever is going on between them they've managed to keep out of the open. Yet the curious and carefully hidden expression on Shizuka's face tells me I'm not the only one who has noticed.

I still haven't found the right way, or right time, to admit to Saki and Rin that I care about them equally. Perhaps it's cowardice, or perhaps it's seeing this rift between the two sisters and me that if I say anything I'll worsen it. I want to mend the damage done that shocking night a few weeks ago. For Rin and I to have comfortable evenings where I swap stories with her, and to have Saki's eyes keep their warmth and talk to me as we train instead of seeing her mood rise and fall. And, loathe as I am to admit it to myself, something in me wishes to feel their tails against my back when we sit together. What that desire says about me unsettles me, but I can't show it right now.

"What is our training for tomorrow?" I ask, needing to get out of my own thoughts now that my own bowl is empty.

"Sparring," Saki says, setting down her bowl. "If I might be excused, I have to prepare the floors."

"Of course," Rin nods.

The eight-tail rises and turns in a single motion, her measured steps making it look like she's gliding across the floor. The pattern of snowy mountains on her dress ripples, making it seem like the clouds move across the peaks. There's a subtle tilt of her hips with each step, no doubt caused by a blow she took to her upper thigh yesterday so she could sweep my legs out. A mix of shame, pride, and fascination fill my chest. She's tough, maybe even tougher than me, but unlike me there's beauty in the way she moves. In her finely honed body as well, and in the hidden depth of her eyes.

I clench my jaw to keep myself from swallowing, that thought stabbing right through me like an icy spear. Saki is far more than a well trained, respectable fighter to me. She's a woman that can draw my gaze without meaning to. Who I keep trying to get closer to. For what? So we can work together more easily? Or have I only been using that as an excuse while fearful of admitting she's a captivating woman and warrior?

Turning to look at Rin, her soft smile and blue eyes greeting me, I feel that spear drive deeper into me. Around her fluffy neck, I can just barely see the outline of the cord holding the pendant I gave to her. A strand of her snow white hair dangles out of place, making me fidget as I repress a desire to sweep it back. To touch her. To let her closer like she wanted.

I've known, haven't I? But I haven't wanted to fully face how frightening the idea of getting close to someone is, my fear of walking away because some part of my spirit is too broken. That they're kitsune is certainly making it more difficult, their claws and teeth a lurking reminder of the terror that can overtake me. I don't want to hurt them, even unintentionally, but I might now that I've admitted to myself I care for them and desire their closeness.

The icy clarity tries to tear into two directions. One is out the door-wall after Saki, and the other is right here beside Rin. A fool's choice either way. I know I feel something much deeper than simple concern for them, that I see them both as women, but what am I supposed to do now? Choose one over the other? Ignore my own heart and thoughts long enough for me to deal with Kenta and free their sister Meiko, then hope I know what to do afterward? Assuming I don't die to the man-eater, or even more of my spirit breaks and I become a danger to the two kitsune. Even if I survive, what then? Will I one day grow so afraid I leave?

"Are you okay, Egil?" Rin asks, tilting her ears toward me. "You are very pale suddenly."

"I'm fine," I say, mouth twisting into a smile I don't feel. I can tell she doesn't believe me, her eyes subtly narrowing. "I just remembered I never told you about the pendant I gave you," I half-lie, trying to change the subject, and knowing too late how dangerous my words are.

"I'd be happy to hear the story sometime," she says, smile touching her eyes. "Perhaps when I'm done with my tasks, we can share a meal and some conversation again?"

I can only nod at the kitsune, trying to make my face as unrevealing as possible of the foolish turmoil within me.

"Then I will look forward to it, Egil. Unfortunately, I must get back to those tasks I mentioned, or else Shizuka and I will never be done," Rin says, her tails twitching as she rises.

"I'm sure the both of you will finish faster than you think," I say, looking down at the fire.

Rin laughs, mirth in her voice as she covers her mouth. "Perhaps I should believe in that as a fortune from you," she says, walking past with a new energy in her steps.

I half-expect her to brush a tail against me as she goes, but Rin keeps to herself while Shizuka rises to follow her. The way Rin walks is different from Saki, the shift of the nine-tail's hips more subtle and her steps shorter. Rin and Shizuka stop at the door-wall, and Rin turns her head back. I do swallow this time, realizing I was staring at the shape of her hips, and look up to meet her eyes. But she's not watching me, she's staring at the sisters sitting at the other hearth.

"Tsubame, would you make sure to do what I asked?"

"Yes, eldest sister," the lithe kitsune bows. "I was planning to."

"Thank you, Tsubame. I'm certain Saki will appreciate knowing we still have plums," the nine-tail smiles, before vanishing out the door-wall Shizuka holds open.

I have an answer now, more knowledge of myself. But I feel even more lost than before. I like Rin and Saki, as women, but I don't want to hurt either of them. Yet it's obvious to me I'll have to choose and hurt one of them if I follow my desires, and even then there's my fear. The terror that I might lose control of myself, or flee like a coward one day. Answers, but now I only have problems I've never faced before.

Rubbing my jaw, feeling the roughness of my beard, I feel Miki's eyes on me. Eyes closing, I breathe out and stretch my legs. Knees popping from the unpleasant and polite way of sitting, I leave for my own room. With Saki and Rin busy, I suppose now would be a good time to soak my sore body in the bath. I might even get my mind to settle some.

---

A few handfuls of charcoal into the bath's stove get the water steaming. Drawing the curtains that separate the stone walled building in half, I hum an old sailing song under my breath and wash myself. The water in the large stone tub calls to me, promising relief from the bruises I earned yesterday, but I don't get in right away. The kitsune keep the bath water clean as they can by washing thoroughly before soaking, and I can't be a good guest without following their customs. Even if that means exposing myself entirely, my loincloth and clothes resting outside the curtained divide. It's a thin hope that any kitsune entering the building will see that and give me some privacy, but with so many of them busy with chores this time of day it's a risk worth taking.

Once I'm clean as I'll get, I ease into the hot water. Easing myself down, holding back a tired groan, my weary body settles into the bath. The tub is large enough I don't have to bend or twist to fit, the luxury disarming. I close my eyes and breathe, willing myself to forget about all these troubles and enjoy this comfort fit for a king. Bruises new and old relax as the heat works down into my bones. My skin is sure to be red and flush when I get out, but right now it doesn't matter. Sinking down until only my head is above the water, I close my eyes and feel at rest.

These few moments suspended, enveloped in hot water, won't last. But I want to bask in the peaceful feeling for as long as I can.

My quiet, half-muttered song and closed eyes let me escape to simpler times. If I lie to myself, I can imagine I'm on a ship gently rocking with the waves, my destination unknown but hopeful. Voice rising, the words of the sailor's song thick and rich on my tongue, I can feel the knots ease in my limbs and sinews. The coming weeks will earn me more, but for now it doesn't matter. Slowly, thoughts of Saki and Rin drift away. I try to hold onto the heat of steamy vapors that stick my hair to my head, letting the rumble of a song in my chest dispel worries.

Drifting in the soothing heat, bruises soothed, I let out a sigh.

How long I spend in the water, I don't know. When I open my eyes, it's cooler than I remember, but not by much. If I drifted off to sleep, it was peaceful for a change. My limbs move smoothly as I sit up, shoulders rising out of the water.

The door opens. Cold wind drifts in, my eyes snapping to the rippling curtains offering me privacy. A thump beats in my head, above my eyes, as I stare at the curtain. Relaxed muscles ready and my legs curl up. I don't hear anyone enter, not even the sound of breathing, but I don't relax. The doorway shuts, keeping the cold out, and leaving me to stare at the curtain divider.

Nothing happens, even after several dozen heavy hammers of my heart. Tongue battering behind my teeth, I crack my jaw open to speak.

A furred hand parts the curtain, my heart hammering and body shifting in the water so sharply it goes over the side of the tub. Water splashes on the stone floor as not one but TWO kitsune make their way through the divider. Anything I might say dries up on my tongue when I see their bared bodies, the gentle white and orange of their furs following womanly curves. In comes Miki, her feminine form as energetic as her grin and promising delights, and the calm, collected Shizuka with her shapely hips and breasts that no man could miss. Her golden hair lying over her chest, parting around her nipples and white furred breasts, the seven-tail smiles softly at me. Miki can hardly constrain her grin and walks with a deliberate roll of her hips.

Ashamed at myself for staring instead of immediately turning away, I put my back to them. "I am sorry," I rush to say, "I didn't think I'd have company."

How do I get out of here? I grind my teeth, waiting for the pair to say something, hopefully take offense or apologize.

"It is no worry," Shizuka soothes as I hear buckets and stools move across the floor. "We do not mind if you see us."

"Not at all," Miki adds, her voice lilting in a way that begs for her to be touched.

Ancestors in your halls, gods of my homeland and of every land I've traveled through, why must my body react this way? Even in the heat of the bath, I can feel my maleness stiffening. How long has it been since I've known a woman, or even relieved myself? Gulping, trying to push my body's unneeded desires away, I keep my back to the pair. "I should be seeing myself out. It won't do for me to hurt your modesty," I say, heart pounding in all the wrong places.

"You've done nothing of the sort," Shizuka assures, her voice dangerously close. I shirk away when I hear her dip a bucket into the tub, and turn my eyes to the wall.

"We don't mind," Miki repeats on my other side, the pair boxing me in so that I have to stare directly ahead. "You're a very, very," her voice drops lower, and I swear I can hear her tongue lovingly wrap around her words, "respectful man. You would never hurt our modesty."

"I can never see you trying to hurt us," Shizuka says, drawing back. I hear Miki do the same, but I know I'm still trapped. "And we would never dare to bother you," the golden haired seven-tail continues, "would we, Miki?"

"Of course not," the two-tail says, words smiling even though I can't see her.

Cloths dip into water as I hear them start to wash. There's a chance for me to run out, grab one of the clothes left out for drying off with, and dress. But if I did that now they'd surely see how excited my rigid maleness is from nothing but the sight of their bare bodies and seduction dripping in their voices. As I struggle against my fear of being impolite and desire to escape, an uncaring, bestial part of my mind wonders if that is the only part of them that is dripping with desire. They've wanted to do something like this for weeks, to do more than give me inviting looks and taunt with their tails laid in my path.

"Then again," Shizuka says, her slow and calming voice taking on a deeper, richer tone, "I would not mind sharing a bath with you, Egil."

"Or more," Miki adds, as I imagine her stretching, showing off her body and the white underneath.

Gritting my teeth doesn't help. Forcing my jaw to relax, I say, "What kind of guest would I be to share a bath with two women?"

"You can be more than a guest," Shizuka says. "A man such as yourself, carrying the weight of so many scars, he surely needs a woman."

My heart skips, eyes closing as Saki and Rin's faces flash through my thoughts like lightning. Why? Why do I have to think of them?

"Or perhaps two women," Miki says, her voice bright, vibrant, and a lot closer.

"Just imagine. A two tailed kitsune, brimming with energy," Shizuka whispers by my ear, one of her breasts leaning into my shoulder, "happy to let you explore her body and lie with her."

That two-tail sneaks up to my other ear, her smaller, perkier breasts sliding up my skin. I don't twitch or flinch away, which concerns me greatly. "And a seven tailed kitsune, rich with experiences of life, eager to show you what she can do and serve you as first wife," Miki says into the ear Shizuka doesn't breathe by. "Both of us, yours."

"You don't have to choose now," Shizuka coos. "We can," one of her hands softly rests on my upper arm, "let you see what you think."

"What about your thrice sworn oath?" I manage to croak.

"I don't think we're bothering you," Shizuka says, fingers splashing the water and drawing my attention down. The bath isn't nearly dark enough to hide how eager my body is for a womanly touch. "We only offer, Egil."

"Like I should have that night," Miki breathes, so close to my ear her tongue flicks past.

They're fox women, covered in fur and with faces befitting an animal. But my body doesn't care. It didn't care since I felt Miki grinding her bare chest on my back when I spent my first night in this house.

"We're being honest, Egil," Shizuka says, strong, mature voice promising a lifetime of indulgence and care.

"To you, and ourselves," Miki utters, moving herself excitedly against my shoulder. I can already feel one of her nipples and how firm it's gotten, despite the steamy heat of the bath.

My base, bestial needs crave what they offer so sharply I'm left speechless. The lack of fear in my chest leaves me confused. How many weeks ago was I flinching toward my sword or anything that could be used as a weapon when one of them got nearby? I've changed. I know if they were in front of me, or if I felt their claws on my skin, I'd be across the room. Yet with the two of them behind me and my loins flush with excitement, I waver between a need to get away and the most primal desire of a man.

"And before you dare ask, we're not acting out of place," Shizuka says, angling her breath into my ear and against my jaw, but ever so careful not to let it touch my neck.

Miki, her tongue darting oh so close to my ear while her perky chest molds to my shoulder, adds, "We're not breaking any rules or our oath."

I find enough of myself to ask, "How?"

"We have permission," Shizuka murmurs, speaking so only I can hear. "We all have permission, and happening upon you first, we thought to make our offer."

Cold trickles into my veins. Only a few drops of reality, but each one is a memory of Rin beside me. A lungful in brings the thoughts of Saki's strong presence. For only a moment, I forget it's not the both of them behind me, but Miki and Shizuka instead. My legs lurch, and the water splashes over the sides as I stand up.

I can feel eyes on me, and to my shame I have to pinch the bridge of my nose to distract myself from the urge in my loins. It doesn't care what is swirling in my head and heart, all that part of me wants is satisfaction.

"You're good women," I say, tilting my head back as I feel hesitant touches at my side. "You've kept your oath to me. To your eldest sister."

Miki breathes in, and I can sense her preparing to leap into the tub with me. "Do you-"

I cut her off by sharply dropping my arm. "But I cannot accept," I say, turning and pushing past them both, finally possessing enough strength to not care about my stiff maleness.

The nude kitsune stare at me with opposite reactions. Miki is in shock, her mouth hanging open and eyes burning with questions. Shizuka nods, sadness in her eyes along with understanding. The seven-tail manages to smile at me while the two-tail fights to restrain herself. "Do you need help dressing, Egil?" Shizuka asks, polite and calm as can be, as if she hadn't been offering everything about her to me moments ago.

Everyone handles pain differently, I suppose. "Thank you, but I need to see to it on my own."

"But!" Miki shouts, earning a sharp hush from Shizuka.

I look over my shoulder at the young, enticing kitsune and her endearing sister. The two-tail goes silent, freezing under the harshness of my stare. It's as if she's seeing me for the first time and doesn't know how to react. Fear. A tiny twinge of fright turns her eyes down and makes Shizuka shift ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry," I say, meaning it. They must have seen who I really am, even if it was for but a moment. "But I have to thank you both. I believe I know my own heart better now."

"Can we do anything to help you?" Shizuka asks, right as I move to open the curtain dividing the room.

"Who else is planning on approaching me?" I ask.

"Tsubame," Miki blurts out.

"She'll give up if we tell her to," Shizuka says, the edge in her voice demanding. "Mariko would accept a man like you, Egil, but she's too timid to task."

"Thank you," I say, moving through the curtains. I may as well have put a wooden fence when that curtain drops back, as I know neither kitsune will follow me out.

After drying off and dressing, mind swirling with too much to think about after today, I head out into the dark night. How long did I soak in the bath? Chewing at my tongue, knowing it's too late to get dinner with everyone, I go back to my room. A night without a meal won't hurt me. The hallways are empty and quiet, but the path back is lit by softly glowing lanterns. Each one winks out as I pass by, the ones ahead seeming to invite me ever onward. Magic, either part of this place or arranged by someone. I'd be more comfortable if it was simply the way of this home, but I can't shake a feeling that the lights go because of a directed will.

I reach my room and open the door-wall, expecting to see a naked kitsune lying on my futon. Instead I'm greeted by one of those raised trays, laden with food, resting beside the futon I rarely sleep on now. Shaped bundles of rice, several pickled vegetable dishes, and some of the stew from this morning judging by the smell of what's in the bowl. The water waiting for me is cool, as is the stew. My brow bunches together as I wonder again how long I slept in the bath. That, and who brought this to me?

I shut the door-wall and sit down for my solitary meal. The shaped rice, tonjiki if I remember correctly, has a simple but pleasant taste. The sour intensity of pickled plums hidden within lingers in my mouth, as do thoughts about what was said in the bath. Shizuka said she and Miki had happened upon me first. Will there be more kitsune making blatant offers? Rin said, many weeks ago, that she had given her sisters permission to marry good men. Yet the nine-tail also asked me not to marry one of her sisters. Did she change her mind, or was I approached because Rin couldn't deny her sisters?

The sour taste clings to my tongue as I go sit against the wall and lean my head back. I want to sleep, to escape my thoughts, but the rest won't come.

Regret for making Shizuka and Miki fear me, even if for but a moment, squeezes my chest. Then the memory of understanding blue eyes and quiet brown eyes rush in. I have to pinch my nose and grind my teeth to keep quiet.

"Ancestors in your halls," I mutter to myself, in the tongue of my people just in case I have any listeners. "Rin had her sister tell Saki there were still plums." And waiting for me, when I got back to my room, was a tray with a food Saki and I once shared many weeks ago, shaped rice with pickled fruit or vegetables hidden within. Had that been said so Saki would make the tonjiki despite her insistence on not interfering, did Rin say it so I'd think that, was it another part of the trouble that's going on between them, or am I looking too deep into all of this? "Or am I not searching deep enough," I groan aloud.

My thoughts drift back into a whirlpool I can't escape. Rin told all her sisters they could go after me. She even told Saki she would not interfere in whatever happens between Saki and me. What is she thinking? Is she acting out of duty to her sisters, guilt over forcing Saki to confess, or does Rin think this is what I'd want? It hasn't seemed like Rin's given up on me, but I could be wrong. We've spoken many times in the last few weeks, but never in a situation she could face me as a friend. What does the nine tail plan, if she even has a plan? For all I know Rin and Saki are caught in a terrible misunderstanding, or are indeed competing over me.

"This has to end before I lose my edge," I say into my palms, trying to settle in for another rough night. I have to speak to Rin, and soon.

---

My dreams take a wretched turn, filling with claws and snapping beaks that have me panting when I wake up.

I'm used to it. I ease the shaking animal fear out of me by working my body. It also helps keep away any thoughts or memories I don't need. Once I've gone through every stretching position and fought my shadow in the early dawn light, I head out. The halls are empty and the lanterns from last night are gone.

The new day has me entering the communal room for the morning meal, only to find it more empty than I'm used to. There's only me, Shizuka, the three-tail, and the six tailed Tsubame. The golden haired Shizuka looks up and smiles at me, her expression calm and welcoming as ever. If what happened yesterday bothers her at all, I don't see it in her expression whatsoever. Not outside of the new respect in her gaze. Whatever man she finds will have an incredibly strong woman by his side.

Looking around the room, I breathe out slowly and go sit at the one hearth. I make a point of sitting at least an arm's length from the kitsune gathered around, earning a small frown from Tsubame.

"Where is everyone else?" I ask.

Shizuka starts serving, so the three-tail speaks up. "Eldest sister and Saki asked not to be disturbed this morning," she says, head low as she speaks quietly. "Miki..."

"Got into the wine again," Shizuka finishes. "But with her youthful vigor, she'll bounce back swiftly."

If the soft smile on her lips is meant to reassure me that it's not my fault, it doesn't work. I do, however, believe Miki will get over her disappointment, so I nod. I don't care if the other sisters know what's being said, but at a glance, I suspect they do.

"Did Saki happen to say anything about our training today?" I ask, taking a bowl as it's passed to me.

"Yes," Shizuka nods. "To meet her at the usual time in her hall."

"Thank you," I mutter, before scooping porridge into my mouth so I don't have to talk.

The quiet doesn't last long. "Egil," Tsubame says, "we were wondering something."

I look up from my bowl, glad to see none of the kitsune have their mouths open. I may be more relaxed around teeth and claws, either because of Saki or the peace in this home, but after my violent dreams I don't need the reminders. What I see instead are three kitsune staring with the same curious intent.

"What?" I ask, wondering how quickly I can run out of the room, politeness be cursed.

"Have Rin or Saki..." Tsubame trails off and looks to Shizuka, as if asking permission.

"What Tsubame and Mariko wish to know is if our elder sisters Rin or Saki talked to you last night," Shizuka says. Far more politely and veiled than I think the other two kitsune would have spoken.

"No," I answer. "They've both been busy."

"I don't think that's it," Tsubame suggests, looking at me with softness in her narrow eyes.

"Tsubame," Mariko chastises, her three tails twitching at the tips. "Watch your tongue."

"Why should I? They've made a move on him," she says, mouth instantly snapping shut. Not by choice, but because Shizuka's fingers are holding it shut.

"Dearest little sister," the golden haired kitsune begins, voice so sweet it's frightening, "I thought we had an agreement. Do I really need to remind you that our guest does not wish to be bothered?"

The six-tail's dainty hand guides her sister's fingers down. "Shizuka. You and Miki did just that, didn't you?"

"I see Miki does have more tact than you," Shizuka replies.

Tsubame openly glares at her seven tailed sister, and I can feel the sibling quarrel only moments away from igniting. I sigh and set my bowl down. "Why would Saki and Rin have talked to me last night?" I ask.

For a few moments, Tsubame and Shizuka glare at each other, as if daring the other to speak. If I stood up and went to the door, I could probably get away before they noticed me, but curiosity is keeping me in place. Insight from the younger kitsune into their older sisters is too valuable to pass up. Even if I would much rather be elsewhere right now.

"Elder sisters Rin and Saki," Mariko says, breaking the stalemate between her sisters and earning their sharp looks. Yet the three-tail continues, speaking as formally as she can, "Our most esteemed sisters have been at odds. We do not know exactly why and were hoping you might have knowledge. The two of them seem to favor you greatly, after all."

"I have no wisdom," I say. "I imagine you three know better than I would why they'd fight."

Shizuka looks between the six- and three-tail, then says, "They wouldn't. I have only seen our elder sisters quarrel once, long ago. And never like this."

"Really?" I tilt my head.

She nods, her golden locks softly moving forward. "It is true. They have always kept distant from the rest of us, relying only on one another. I'm the closest to them both and..." Shizuka shakes her head sadly. "Even I can only guess at what has happened."

"And what would you guess?" I ask.

"I dare not repeat it," she says, moving two tails subtly so they motion toward her other sisters. Mariko and Tsubame can't see the motion, their eyes affixed on me, but the sign is obvious enough I get it.

She won't say in front of her siblings. If she's given up on me, perhaps I can ask her about her two older sisters in private should I find the chance.

"Well," I shrug, standing up. "If I find out, and I do indeed have their favor, maybe I can get them to stop."

"Maybe they will listen to you," Shizuka says as I impolitely leave without excusing myself.

---

Walking around outside, following a path cleared of snow and ice that runs near the walls, helps me clear out distracting thoughts. If my breath didn't fog with each breath, I'd run the paved pathway, but no sense in making myself ill. After five loops, I start toward Saki's training hall, fingers digging into my palms in an attempt to banish unhelpful thoughts about the sibling quarrel and how I am probably the cause. It doesn't work, and I end up standing an arm's length from the door. If I really cared, wouldn't I walk away from the home? Search the forest for Kenta by myself, use every last dirty trick I know and try to kill the oni?

My breath shudders out, memories of the pyre in the village coming to me. Of Rin's grief and Saki's quiet, restrained concern. If I do care, then I stay here. Do this their way and try not to break their hearts by dying to an oni. Everything else I'll have to shove my way through, and hope I don't tear apart in the briars.

"Saki?" I call out, the ritual of calling out starting to feel familiar.

Only a few heartbeats later, the entrance opens and cold, brown eyes look at me, looming ever so slightly above me. Saki's wearing black like always, the legs of her pants loose enough that she could kick up and touch a toe to one of her ears. I know because I saw her do just that a few days ago. She watches me with cold eyes, her tails in constant motion behind her.

"Come in," she says, turning her back on me and walking into the center of the hall. I watch the tips of her tails instead of her hips, doubting she'll answer me if I ask who left the tonjiki for me last night.

There are no targets hanging from the beams above, rocks laying about, or practice poles against the back wall. The only difference is that woven mats, stacked two deep, lie in the center of the room. Aside from that, it's only the two of us. Without thinking, I shut the door, take my belt off, lay it by the entrance, and tighten the clever sashes holding my clothes together. The ritual of entering her space. I do more than leave my belt there. I cast off as many of my other thoughts and worries as I can. We're here to train, and I'm also trying to recklessly get to know more about her.

"What are we starting with?" I ask.

She stands with her back to me, arms folded together in front of her. "Is your arm strong enough for barehanded sparring?"

Putting pride aside, I flex and twist my once broken arm. It's still weaker than when I came to this mountain, but the nasty bruising from the kappa fight is mostly gone. "If it's light sparring, I can do it," I answer.

Her head bobs and she turns to face me, lifting an arm out while her feet plant themselves in a strong stance. "Place the back of your wrist against mine. Don't attack or move."

Well aware she's going to do something that will probably end with me flipped onto the floor, I walk up and lift my strong arm against hers. Her fur is soft against my skin, our sleeves sliding down enough to make the contact possible. I don't get time to think about it before she speaks. "Keep your arm against mine. Maintain your balance. Don't attack, focus only on keeping your arm on mine."

I get my feet settled in place, nod, and nearly have my arm driven down. I struggle against her, Saki's face blank as we silently war. It feels like I'm pressing against a whipping wind, the angle and force she applies constantly changing. One moment she's trying to sweep my arm up, which would open me up for a punch to the center of my body. The next moment she's trying to drag me down toward the ground, getting me in the perfect position for smashing my face with a knee. But it's only her arm that moves, letting me go back up just a bit.

"You're strong," I say, forcing her arm to a standstill between us as I straighten up.

"Countless seasons of practice," she answers, the response one of the few I get out of her during our training.

Saki relaxes, letting my arm swing in too much and giving her a chance to push me down. Our wrists are still locked, somehow, even as I grit my teeth and stop her. The position has me at a disadvantage, but through sheer tenacity I shove my shaking arm against hers until I'm standing straight and our arms quiver in front of us. The kitsune has taken half a step forward, her arm bending and the ice in her gaze starting to melt.

"Your arm is stronger than mine," she says. "Technique can make up for some of that difference."

"Whoever taught you was good," I say, unable to make her arm budge. And if I took half a step forward I'd be open for just long enough that she could upset my balance. "Very good."

"My father was a warrior. He taught me everything he knew, but Meiko never wanted to learn from him," she states.

That simple admission is surprising enough my arm gets moved away, bending and forcing me to move my feet to keep from getting bent to the ground. Saki allows me to reposition, but keeps her arm against mine. The war of angle and force is still going then, but she's intent on keeping it simple for now.

"I hope he was honored to have a daughter strong as you," I say, trying to press back against Saki. I don't dare to mention Meiko now that Saki is finally willing to talk.

Our arms go back and forth, her eyes unbothered. "He was. But I learned later few men would accept a woman can be trained as a warrior. They always want one or the other."

"There were some women who took up weapons from where I'm from," I say, nearly going tumbling to my side and having to plant my foot in a new direction. "Anyone who thinks a woman trained or armed can't be a warrior is a fool."

Her ears flick. I can see a question wanting to come out of her mouth, her nose twitching ever so slightly. But she holds it back, stifles her own thoughts. Suddenly she throws my arm up high and pulling her wrist away. I stagger back as the kitsune shifts her position, bringing her other arm out, waiting for me to put my weak arm against her wrist. Watching her brown eyes the entire time, to show my respect and watch for what she plans, I place my wrist against hers. My other arm burns with exertion, making me wonder how long we were doing that.

She pushes hard, making me stagger to the side as I struggle to match her. Somehow she flows with me, keeping up with my weaker arm. She takes a step back, extending her arm more. Remembering what she did, I take a step toward her in response, bending my arm. That helps me keep up with her constant pushing and relaxing, but she still controls the contest.

"You adapt quickly," she says once I'm standing firm.

"It's important to do on the road."

She nods. "So you learned from the world. As a yamabushi might."

"I learned from whoever would teach me," I grunt, trying to make her arm go high and getting pushed back for it. She's being more aggressive on my weak arm.

"Wise." Her feet slide closer, and it's all I can do not to lose control of my own arm. "Does that mean you're fine with learning from me? A woman who is a warrior."

"Why wouldn't I be?" I say from between grit teeth. "Why can't you be both?"

Her arm snaps away, Saki taking two steps back while I nearly fall flat on my face. I stomp hard and haul myself upright, glad for all of the leg strengthening I've been doing on my own.

"I am only a warrior to you," she says, walking past me and toward the entryway.

Stomach tightening and breathing harder than I should be, but not quite winded, I slowly trail after her. I made a grave mistake saying that, and know she's done for the day unless I say something. Tell her that she is also a woman to me, but what happened last night stops me. How I thought of not just Saki, but Rin as well. Until I know which one my heart leans more toward, I can't make a choice. My tongue is still digging at the words I might say when Saki opens the door and I see another kitsune outside. Tsubame, her hair pulled back, holds a tray of food with steaming cups of water resting atop. How did Saki know the shorter kitsune would be there? Did she even know that, or was she going to leave as I thought, only to be surprised by her sister's appearance?

Tsubame dips her head respectfully. "Eldest sister sends her regards, Saki. She has been worried that you and our guest might not be eating enough during your training."

All of Saki's tails writhe together, bundling up and seeming to shrink until she looks to only have a single, large tail. That helps her hide all of her thoughts behind a cold expression. "Thank you, little sister," she says with reflexive politeness, but no bow. "Would you tell Rin that I'd wish to hear that from her next time?"

"Of course," Tsubame says, bow dipping lower.

Saki takes the tray and returns a bow. Watching them, I'm reminded of when I first came here. Saki is second only to Rin in this house, isn't she? The thin and delicate Tsubame backs up a few steps and shuts the door, Saki turning around to face me. There's a crack in her expression, a wavering of her mouth as she fights a frown. The displeased look is winning out as she stares down at the tray of shaped rice squares.

Staring at the food, I again wonder whether it was Rin or Saki that had the food brought to my room last night. I want to ask, but a quick glance at her shows me she's not going to answer any questions.

"We will train more," she says, gaze icing over.

To that I can only dip my head in agreement. Saki sets the tray down by the door and moves into the center of the room, standing firm with her hands by her side. I join her on the woven mats, wondering if I should apologize.

"Try to move me without striking," Saki says, and I see I'm wrong about needing to apologize.

Her eyes didn't ice over. Fury lurks behind a thin veil of cold, the kitsune clearly upset but not at me. Worried she may not be making good decisions, I risk asking, "Are you sure about that?"

The sharp stare and tilt of her head says yes.

I breathe out, trying to shake off all my thoughts. I doubt we're training now, instead I think she's trying to get a grip on what's seething behind her brown eyes. Somehow, I don't feel so bad knowing Rin can cut others deeply. At the same time, I wonder if that's the nine-tail's real intention. Could Saki be mistaking genuine gestures for insults? Shaking my head, gritting my teeth, I force those thoughts out. When I look up, I see Saki, standing as a warrior, and falter when that's not all. But I push it aside and move toward her.

The slow approach I take has her staring intently at me. She said I shouldn't strike, but she never said she wouldn't. Sparring or not, I get the sense she's going to be putting more into this than before.

Two steps from the kitsune, I lunge. If I'm stronger than her like she said, then I want to see what technique she'll use to get out of this. I grab her by the waist, pushing forward and heaving up as one of my feet stomps between hers. There's a surprised yip as I surge up, taking the kitsune off the ground and hauling her up.

I hold her aloft, on my shoulder, for less than a heartbeat before she's moving. Twisting, whirling, legs lashing out ruining my balance, the chaos controlled and purposefully. My feet stomp, I rock back and forth, and the storm passes.

I blink, looking to the floor and surprised to see my face isn't on the mat. The weight on my shoulder is coiled up, strong muscle and sinew ready to fight back, but it doesn't. Saki must be just as surprised as I am.

"You can put me down," Saki says.

Halfway done setting her feet back on the ground, I take half a step back. The fury in her eyes is gone, and she's not as confused as I thought she'd be. There's something else far more familiar in those deep, brown eyes. I've got her attention, as if I just did a trick she wasn't expecting. Glad as I am to see her like this, I also know that one or both of us are going to get a few new bruises very soon.

"Try that again."

"The same way?" I ask, wanting to see if she's asking me to help her understanding something or if this is about testing what I can do.

"As before," she nods, returning to her deceptively passive stance.

Approaching the kitsune, feeling her eyes on me, I let the lingering worries go as I lunge. I get my arms around Saki's waist, only for her to drop backward. The mats rush up, my body twisting as her legs bounce off my shoulder. Landing on my side and rolling, I catch sight of the kitsune springing back and flipping onto her feet. I'm much less graceful and lumber back up, smirking a laugh the entire time. "I thought this was light sparring?"

Two of her tails flick. "I didn't pin you to the ground."

"True." I pace a few steps, before stopping where I stand. "Try to take me down then, without punches or kicks."

Her only response is a gradual nod. I brace myself, and then she's coming right at me. At the last moment I drop into the shoulder she was going to drive into my stomach, my fingers snatching her shirt as I step back. She adjusts frighteningly quick, and the solid grip I have on her front isn't enough to stop her from moving. I miss exactly how she does it, but with her tails and a kick on the ground, she whirls and wraps both of her legs around my stomach. She hits hard but I don't go down, my iron grasp on her front sapping the power out of her strange move. But she ultimately succeeds, my hands snapping out as we both go tumbling forward. Her tails lash out, cushioning the fall, and my palms hit painfully hard on the mat.

Counting myself lucky if I don't lose some skin, chest laboring for breath, I look down. Saki's under me, staring right up at me with wide brown eyes. That unyielding grasp I had on her clothes opened them up and somehow loosened her chest bindings. Both her large breasts are about to spill out of the wrappings, trying to break free with each breath she takes. My dazed mind takes a moment to look back up at her eyes once I'm assured she's not hurt from my careless grasp.

My heart seems to stop. There's no fear in her brown eyes. The cold and determined distance is gone. She's staring at me. As Saki, the warrior who respects me and the woman who tried to hide her feelings for me. It's all there, her defenses down, and I fear it's from her hitting her head in the fall.

"Saki?" I mutter, searching her pupils for any signs of a bad hit.

Her hands grab my wrists, but not to push me away. It's almost like she wants me to stay here. "Egil," she says, breathless voice making my heart miss a beat or two.

Something inside me wants to lean down, to act a fool and see if she really likes this by pressing my nose against hers. I start to, but stop after only a twitch of movement. Making the brown eyes before me, tender and unafraid, happy would shatter the glacier blues of her sister. My chest wants to rip open, split me in two so I can escape my own foolishness and indecision.

As quick as it came, the moment passes. Saki's legs release my middle, and her palms pat the floor. I roll to the side, landing on my back and hauling myself into a sitting position while Saki stands up beside me. I haven't made a choice, but it feels like I did. The wrong one, and the right one. Brushing my hair back and letting out a quiet, heavy breath, I hope I'm wrong. I desperately want that moment to have been nothing but my imagination, for Saki to hate me. If the eight-tail and her older sister just hated me I could let what's in my heart wither.

"Are you okay, Egil?" Saki asks, crouching near me.

I'm afraid to look her in the eye. Yet the coward's path isn't one I can go down, forcing me to look up at her. She's got the front of her clothes pulled back shut, and beyond that I try not to look, or see the larger swell of her front. Cool, distant brown orbs stare at me, but there's still no fear. "I'm sorry. Accidents happen," she mutters, dipping her in apology.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I say. "Sorry about..."

"Clothes don't matter to a warrior," she says, heart closing off once more as she rises to her feet. She starts for door. "I am most sorry for my carelessness. We will continue our training another time."

"Saki," I say, voice hard as stone in my neck.

Her hand, stretching for the door, stops. "Egil," she says, voice calm even as her ears lower lifelessly, "we can speak another time. When eldest sister is around."

She's fast, but I'm not making the same mistake again. I'm on my feet, going for the door, but she slams it behind her. Four running strides nearly send me crashing through, but when I swing it open, she's gone. I could scream, curse in a dozen tongues, rip this flimsy door off and shatter it against the ground. There's that much fury in my chest, directed solely at myself.

Instead of throwing a fit and being a rude guest, I sigh into the cold. Then I go inside, pick up my belt, and stare at the tray of tonjiki. Did Rin mean the food as an insult, or was she trying to encourage Saki? I don't despair. I know what to do for a change.

I need to speak with Rin, to see if I'm the cause of the sisters' fighting. Yet something in my gut tells me I won't find out today. It's so overwhelming, I wonder if I should cast my runes. Fingers touching that pouch, I slowly pull my hand away, fearing what would happen if I tried to read this while searching for an answer to women. Some things are beyond the scant magic I know.