Character Page

Prologue

Prologue

RECORDS of Fukuoka Prefecture—once known as Itokoku—are present in the Wajinden, a third-century Chinese history of Japan.

The city of Dazaifu was its seat of government from the eighth to twelfth centuries. Later, despite significant hardship during the Sengoku period, Hakata, a ward in present-day Fukuoka City, became the new political center of the region. The area has flourished as a trade port since time immemorial and is additionally renowned for having once been a self-governing city.

Industrial zones such as Kokura, which prospered during the Meiji Restoration, exist in the prefecture as well.

Throughout history, people from all over Japan have settled in Fukuoka Prefecture. And it continues to draw many searching for a home:

“I want to live somewhere convenient but not too busy.”

“I want to raise my children in a peaceful, suburban community.”

“I want to relocate my company’s headquarters to a midsize city.”

Relatively prosperous families and individuals buy houses in and request job transfers to Fukuoka. Likewise, freelancers and remote workers, unconstrained by corporate geography, move there as well.

In short, it’s a reasonably convenient place to live with easy access to the airport. And while the population isn’t overwhelming, the average person can maintain a degree of anonymity if necessary.

Most ayakashi have lost their place in the modern mortal realm. Yet they also regard Fukuoka as a favorable location to live. Ayakashi from all over the world, not just Japan, often consider moving there. That said, their society is rife with hierarchies and alliances. Many of their kind decide where to live based on familial ties or word-of-mouth recommendations. And for those leaving their homeland who lack connection and direction…

For the past four hundred years, one shapeshifting fox has dedicated himself to helping ayakashi find a home in Fukuoka.

Yes. The past four hundred years.

Chapter 1: The Fox Executive and Lonely Nekomata

Chapter 1: The Fox Executive and Lonely Nekomata

DUSK had fallen over Fukuoka Tenjin Station. Uniformed fans wore bright expressions as they headed to the nearby stadium. The local baseball team had recovered from three losses at the start of the season and gone on to win three consecutive games.

Meanwhile, I’d gone to three unpromising job interviews. Despair weighed on me, and I sighed, slumping against the wall beneath the station’s giant LED display. “It sure is hard to live a normal life, huh?”

The Tenjin area was in the middle of an urban development initiative dubbed Tenjin Big Bang. The Tenjin Core and Fukuoka Buildings had already vanished from the skyline. Famous architectural landmarks were disappearing one after another like teeth pulled from the jaw of the city. Even so, Tenjin remained as lively as ever. I was the only one so downcast.

A plane soared toward Fukuoka Airport, visible through the gaps between skyscrapers.

My heart has just as many holes as the skyline.

I—Kaede Kikui—heaved another sigh. “I just want to be normal.”

After graduating high school, I began working as a general office clerk for a small company in Tenjin. My parents had pushed me to attend college regardless of whether I stayed near my hometown, but I’ve never been particularly ambitious. I did go to an open campus day in Tokyo once. I was overwhelmed by so many options, and the sheer number of people was dizzying. I’m not cut out for this,I realized before giving up on university life.

My high school was within commuting distance of my home. After I earned my bookkeeping qualification as a student, the school introduced me to the local company where I currently work. I’d dreamed of a pleasant life: going out with friends and shopping at the neighborhood Aeon Mall from time to time.

Someday I’ll get married in the city and buy a house around here, I’d thought. Wouldn’t that be nice?

A normal life. I wanted an utterly normal life. That was my dream, my ideal.

Yet, for some reason, the president of my workplace treated me with abnormal favoritism. His behavior made my job downright uncomfortable. If I worked for a larger company, perhaps I could’ve solved the problem by claiming sexual harassment. But unfortunately, our small, outdated company had merely fifty employees, including part-timers. So the president continued to smother me in the office and drag me out for drinks around the city.

Eventually, my seniors began to spread rumors about me. “She only got hired because she’s having an affair with the president,” they grumbled to each other. Learning the ropes as a recent graduate, I’d drawn nothing but negative attention. I hadn’t thought the situation could worsen until I found myself in a new hell where many of my coworkers resented me. Of course, the average corporate grunt wouldn’t lend a hand to a convenient punching bag.

Considering my position and academic background, I earned a decent salary. I didn’t necessarily want to find a new job.

And so three years passed in the blink of an eye.

This can’t go on,I realized after hearing about an old friend’s wedding. If everyone keeps treating me like the president’s mistress, I’ll never have a normal love life, let alone get married!

I’d recently started to dip my toes into the job market but had run into a wall: I had no specific goals. How could I know if I was choosing the right company when I desired nothing more than to be normal? And to be honest, I would have been satisfied with my current role if I weren’t so conspicuous.

As I brooded, a notification lit up my smartphone. Photos of my former classmates who’d moved to Tokyo flooded the group chat. A dinner party.

My friends were always posting about their wonderful lives.

“Must be nice,” I muttered.

Everyone, myself and others, had their own form of happiness. I’d believed as much until that evening. Suddenly though, my friends’ lives seemed so much more dazzling. Was I the only one to have hit a massive dead end in life? Just as my heart began to sink, I noticed something.

What’s that? A fortune teller?

Draped in a black robe, a young man behind a market stall beckoned to me with an impassive expression. His youth struck me as a bit unusual for a fortune teller.

“Is it okay to run a booth here?” I wondered aloud.

I’d never seen one in the area before. Something about it felt very off, yet none of the other passersby showed any concern.

“Still,” I mumbled to myself, “having him read my fortune might not be such a bad idea.” I staggered toward the booth as if drawn by some invisible force.

And shortly, my luck ran out.

🍁🍁🍁

TEN minutes had passed since the fortune telling began. The young man had asked for just five hundred yen. At first, I couldn’t have been more delighted with his careful listening.

“That sounds stressful,” he said with a contrite nod. “I wouldn’t be able to work first thing in the morning, much less without an afternoon nap.”

“You need a lot of sleep, huh?” I asked. “Things must be rough for you too.”

The fortune teller looked to be around my age. I could discern his straight-backed posture even through his robe. He had piercing, almond-shaped eyes, and his voice, issuing through thin lips, was clear and dignified. He could have been a minor model.

Not how I usually picture a fortune teller, but here we are, I guess.

His next words cut through my absentminded musing. “Take this bracelet if you’re feeling worried,” he said.

“Huh?”

He held out a clearly suspicious energy bracelet.

“U-Um,” I stammered. “Sorry, but I don’t have any more money, so…”

The fortune teller tried to push it into my hands. “I don’t need money,” he insisted. “This bracelet will bring you good fortune. Please take it.”

“Uh, for real?”

“Find a new job, earn more money, gain prestige, and settle down with a nice mate. That’s what makes humans happy, right?”

“A mate?!” I cried. “I-I didn’t say anything about that.”

“You can obtain money, prestige, and a mate with a single bracelet. To achieve all your dreams with the wave of a wand is a human’s greatest desire, is it not? I’ve studied these matters. Please take this bracelet and find happiness.”

“Um, I don’t think you’re really listening to me.”

“You’ll find the perfect mate with the help of this miraculous bracelet,” the fortune teller insisted. “Every day will be a debaucherous feast.” He tried once again to shove the bracelet at me.

I looked down to avoid his intense gaze, and at that moment, a man with eye-catching golden-brown hair approached us. Rather, he raced in our direction like an Olympic sprinter. He was unbelievably handsome and wore a stylish, light-colored suit. His beautiful, silky hair fell to his shoulders, and his keen eyes and aquiline nose had a feminine allure. The most desirable traits of a gorgeous woman and a dashing man had been combined to create the perfect face.

I gaped at him, dumbfounded, as though he weren’t barreling straight toward me. Then, to my surprise, he stopped right in front of us.

He stared down at me with a fearsome expression, his shoulders heaving with each breath. “I…found…you…” he said between gasps for air.

“Huh? U-Um…?”

The man stilled. His almond-shaped eyes studied me in disbelief, the amber irises shimmering under creased upper eyelids.

“U-Um, have we met somewhere before?” I ventured.

Frantically, I searched my memory as I quailed under his scrutiny. Is he one of the men who interviewed me for a job? Or does he work in human resources at one of those places? I’ve never seen a man this gorgeous up close.

“I’m sorry, but…I can’t remember you,” I admitted.

After a beat, the beautiful man murmured, “I see.” He let out a deep sigh, and the furry ears standing atop his head abruptly drooped. His bushy tail deflated too. He looked quite crestfallen. Had he been looking for someone and mistaken me for them? I felt a pang of guilt for disappointing hi—

“Huh?” With a start, I looked at him again. Wait, furry ears? And a tail?!

Unmistakably, two large, pointed animal ears protruded from the man’s head. Likewise, a large fox’s tail sprouted from the center vent of his finely tailored suit.

“A f-fox?”

The gorgeous, young man radiated a dangerous aura. And sported fluffy ears and a tail.

Oh, I see. His blond hair is actually the color of a fox’s coat, huh? That’s kind of adorable.

A loud clatter rang out behind me. I spun around to find the fortune teller’s booth empty. “Wait, what?!”

“Hey!” the fox shouted.

The fortune teller was attempting to escape on unsteady feet.

“Stop right there!” the fox shouted again as he grabbed the man. “Don’t even think about running!”

The fortune teller twisted his thin body in protest. “Gah… Let go of me!”

“Don’t be stupid. I may have gotten distracted, but I originally came here for you. Once is bad enough, yet you keep conducting this illegal business in the domain of Lord Tenjin himself!”

“Oh, so it was illegal,” I muttered under my breath.

The fortune teller struggled in vain to break free from the fox’s grasp.

“Listen,” the fox said, “I don’t care if you want to tell fortunes on the street, but you need to get permission first. If we don’t follow the humans’ rules, all of us ayakashi will lose our place in this world. You’re here because you don’t want to go to the Far Shore, right?”

“Let go of me,” the fortune teller grunted. “I’ll stop, okay? I’ll…stop!”

“U-Um, excuse me, Mr. Fox!” I grabbed his sleeve.

He glared at me.

After stifling a yelp, I tried again, finding his eyes. “U-Um! Please let go of him!”

“This is between me and him,” the fox replied. “I don’t want to drag you into our dispute. Just pretend you didn’t see anything and run along.”

“I can’t do that. Um… This fortune teller might have broken some sort of rule, sure, but he was listening to me vent a little while ago. It took some of the weight off my shoulders, so could you please let him go? Just for today?”

The fox appeared momentarily taken aback. Then—

“Grr!” the fortune teller growled.

“Ouch!” the fox cried. “Hey, wait!”

The fortune teller had taken advantage of the fox’s distraction. Raising his free arm, he’d scratched the fox’s hand and wrenched the other free before bolting like a startled cat. There was no hope of catching him as he began to merge into the sea of people thronging the Shintenchō shopping district.

“Damn it. He got away,” cursed the fox. Yet he didn’t pursue the fortune teller.

As I breathed a sigh of relief, something odd caught my eye. “What’s that?” I murmured.

Two strange, snakelike objects poked out of the fleeing fortune teller’s robe. They looked like the twitching tail of a black cat, albeit two-pronged.

My jaw dropped. “H-He’s a cat?”

“He’s a nekomata,” the fox explained. “He uses fortune telling as a pretext to lure humans with spiritual energy. Then he feeds on their worries and vitality to sustain himself.”

“O-Oh, I see,” I managed.

“Considering what an idiot he is though, I doubt he’s had a decent meal in a while.”

“Still,” I said, “I feel kind of sorry for him.”

“You feel sorry for him?” The fox shrugged, then scoffed, pointing to the energy bracelet abandoned on the booth’s counter. “That was a marker to keep track of you.”

“A marker?”

“He planned to attack and eat you later.”

“Seriously?!”

“Don’t worry. The contract is void since you didn’t accept the bracelet. The jewel in the center is just a glass bead now.”

“Th-Thank goodness.”

Donning a serious expression, the fox bent slightly to peer at my face. “Speaking of which…”

“Y-Yes?” My heart hammered in my chest. Normally I wasn’t so affected by a handsome face.

“Is that spiritual energy of yours on purpose?” the fox asked.

“Come again?”

“You’re leaking spiritual energy like a busted pipe. How have you survived so long so defenseless? What the hell are you?” He eyed me. “Some kind of exhibitionist?”

“Wh-What did you just call me?!” I clutched the shoulders of my business suit, then started to pat myself down, paranoid that there was a tear in the seat of my pants or something.

The fox chuckled, and the laughter made him seem a little more charming, a little less imposing.

Wait. Charming? After he called me an exhibitionist? Fat chance.

“Well, anyway, it’s about that time,” he said, glancing at his wristwatch. He snatched my tote bag from my arms.

I squawked. “Hey, what are you doing?!”

“I have an appointment now. Feel free to tag along.” Pivoting back toward me, he smiled slyly. “You see me as a fox, don’t you?” He handed me a business card printed with an adorable fox pattern.

“Fukuoka Ayakashi Career and Moving Services,” it read. “Rai Shinozaki, President.”

I finally realized, at long last, that he was the president of a company.

🍁🍁🍁

THE beautiful fox, Shinozaki, led me to a food stall. Not in Nakasu, the eat street near the tourist hotspot of Canal City, but Maizuru, west of Fukuoka Tenjin Station.

Shinozaki ducked his tall frame under the stall’s curtain. “Hey there, Chef, I’ll have the usual.” He appeared to be on friendly terms with the owner. “Actually, make it two today,” he amended.

“Oh?” responded a middle-aged man’s voice from the back. “Did you bring someone with you today, Shinozaki?”

“Sure did.”

Soon the sound of food being prepared was drifting over the counter. I fidgeted nervously, and Shinozaki addressed me from a neighboring seat.

“Here’s your bag.”

“Oh, right! You startled me when you grabbed it like that.”

“Sorry. I wanted to make sure the nekomata hadn’t marked it.”

“Food’s ready!” the cook declared as I accepted my bag.

With a jolt, I looked at the bar top to find two bowls of udon in rustic Koishiwara pottery. A scratch pattern had been etched into their outer surface with a hand planer. The broth within was clear and glossy, and delicately sliced green onions and thin pieces of fried tofu rested on top of the thin noodles.

“Thanks for the meal,” Shinozaki and I recited in unison, pressing our palms together in prayer.

The udon had a subtle yet refined flavor, and the faint aroma of bonito flakes tickled my nostrils. It was, simply put, a scrumptious meal.

“Mmm… This hits the spot,” I said.

Every so often, the noodles ensnared flakes of tempura. The pleasant crunch added delightful contrast, elevating the dish. I dipped my chopsticks in and out of the bowl in a state of total absorption. Not only was I famished, I also hadn’t eaten out in a long time. Only after more than half the noodles had vanished did I remember: I’d forgotten to thank my savior.

“Oh—Shinozaki! Thank you so much for rescuing me earlier.”

“No need to thank me. It’s my fault you got dragged into trouble in the first place. Eat as much as you like. Consider that my apology and a bit of hush money on the side.”

“Hush money?”

“Yeah.” He nibbled on a piece of fried tofu spongy with broth. It must have been quite tasty, for his eyes narrowed in delight. “These days, it’s easy for evidence of the supernatural to spread through social media and word of mouth. That kind of thing can be a matter of life and death for us ayakashi.”

“And that’s why you’re bribing me with udon?” I asked. “But even if I keep quiet, we made a pretty big scene in front of the station.”

Our squabble with the fortune teller might be trending already.

Shinozaki jerked his chin at my phone. “Look it up now.”

“Uh, really…?”

Prompted by his silent gaze, I picked up my phone.

“Am I missing something?” I mumbled after a moment.

When a celebrity merely walked down the street in our barbaric age, disrespectful videos of them surfaced online in five seconds flat. Yet I couldn’t find any discussion about the commotion in front of Fukuoka Tenjin Station.

“Weird,” I said. “There were people taking pictures of the station, but I can’t see the fortune teller’s booth in any of them.”

“That booth,” said Shinozaki, “is a trap that only people with powerful spiritual energy can see.”

“A trap? Right in front of Tenjin Station?”

Shinozaki shrugged. “Human authorities know about ayakashi and tolerate us. I’ve been tracking that black nekomata for a while now. After all, he’s been causing a ruckus around here lately. We ayakashi have to eliminate the troublemakers among us. If we fail to do so, the professionals get involved, and that means trouble for us as a whole.”

Something clicked in my mind. “Oh, I get it now. When you said, ‘I found you,’ you were referring to the nekomata, right?”

“In any case…” After an awkward pause, Shinozaki cleared his throat. “I run a business in Fukuoka that helps ayakashi move here and find work. I give strays like that black cat suitable jobs and homes. Everything I do is to make Fukuoka an easier place for ayakashi to live.”

“You sound like a public servant.”

“Public servants have a difficult time engaging with ayakashi. There are a lot of complications, religion being one of them.”

“Oh, I could see that.” I nodded.

“I match ayakashi who want to move to Fukuoka with groups of people who welcome their presence. I ensure their peaceful coexistence, turn a profit, and eat udon.”

“I knew relocation support services were popular among humans,” I said. “So that extends to ayakashi as well?”

I glanced at the leftover broth in my bowl. It shimmered with an appetizing, golden-brown sheen, and the beautiful color reminded me of a full moon. The unique texture of the thin, tender noodles had surprised me. What a delicious meal. It more than qualifies as a bit of hush money.

“I understand,” I said. “I won’t tell anyone about today. I promise.”

“Good,” Shinozaki said with a grin. “That’s a relief.”

After drinking the rest of my broth, I called toward the back of the stall, “Thanks for the meal! I’ll bring a friend with me next time.”

“Hmm, might be difficult,” the cook replied. “Most humans can’t come here.”

When he stepped into view, I nearly gasped. “An otter?!” I cried.

An apron was tied around the otter’s waist. He had a fluffy coat, spoke with the same voice as the disembodied cook, and stood around five and a half feet tall.

“Not exactly, miss,” the creature said, waving his furry paw in denial. “I’m a kappa, not an otter.”

“A kappa?!” I repeated, my voice rising. “Like those green things in Tenchika Fountain?!” I was thinking of the sculptures in the Tenjin Underground Mall. They bore plates on their heads and frolicked beneath the glittering light of water projections.

“Kappa come in all shapes and sizes,” interjected Shinozaki. “The stereotypical green ones are known throughout Japan, but kappa also refers to the sort of ayakashi Chef is.”

“Wow,” I said faintly. “There’s a lot to learn.”

“Chef’s cute, isn’t he?”

“He sure is.”

A beautiful fox; a sleek, black nekomata fortune teller; and a giant otter. Or kappa.

He’s certainly adorable, but my mind is struggling to keep up with all the fluffiness today.

“The name’s Kawazoe,” the otter said. “Nice to meetcha, miss.”

“Kawazoe, is it? I’m Kaede Kikui. It’s nice to meet you as well.”

As I shook Kawazoe’s paw, Shinozaki changed the subject. “By the way, any leads on the shapeshifting tanuki case?”

“None of the ayakashi I associate with have heard anything,” Kawazoe answered. “This tanuki might’ve blended into human society—they appear in public as a person but’re pulling strings in the background as an ayakashi. That happens from time to time.”

Shinozaki nodded. “It’s within the realm of possibility.”

When I remained silent, Shinozaki explained, “There are rumors of an ayakashi being involved in a personal data leak. We’ve determined that a shapeshifting tanuki is likely the culprit. Unfortunately, even the ayakashi division of the Fukuoka Prefectural Police Department is having trouble cracking the case.”

“Shinozaki here is personally looking into the case,” Kawazoe added. “He’s making sure we don’t draw unwarranted suspicion from the police.”

“Sounds rough,” I said.

So Shinozaki didn’t just help ayakashi relocate. He also responded to incidents not directly related to him. Between the matter of the shapeshifting tanuki and our encounter with the black cat, that had become abundantly clear. So much responsibility had to be difficult.

“Let me know if you see anything suspicious as well,” Shinozaki said to me. “The shapeshifting tanuki might approach you too. Your leakage makes you attractive prey.”

“Got it,” I promised. “Ayakashi also just want to live normal, peaceful lives, huh?”

“Indeed we do. I’m glad you understand.”

I yearned for a normal life. That the ayakashi of Fukuoka desired the same made perfect sense to me.

After leaving Kawazoe’s food stall, Shinozaki and I cut through the Tenjin PARCO shopping center, descended into the underground mall, and passed through the subway ticket gates. The stares of passersby, especially young women, bored into Shinozaki the entire trek. At first, I figured his ears and tail were drawing attention. Each time I caught his reflection in a display window, however, he appeared as a normal, well-dressed young man with short, black hair. Although his face was just as handsome, he looked like a different person without his long hair and animal ears and tail.

When I asked him about it, he said, “Only ayakashi and spiritually gifted humans can see my true form.”

“I feel sorry for everyone who can’t see how cute and fluffy you are,” I mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Oh, uh, nothing.”

He peppered me with questions while we walked. For instance, was I the descendant of a line of miko, Shinto priestesses? He hoped to uncover the reason behind my spiritual energy “leakage.”

I shook my head. I’d grown up in the most mundane of households.

“I see.” He shrugged. “And your family doesn’t have a history of public service.”

“Nope. We’ve lived in Fukuoka for generations but don’t belong to a prestigious house or anything. Actually, a lot of our family records went up in flames during the Bakumatsu era and the various wars since. So I have no idea what my ancient ancestors were up to.”

“It’s a miracle no ayakashi has ever attacked you,” he marveled, “considering how you wander around like a geyser of spiritual energy.”

“I-Is it really that bad?”

“To ayakashi, you might as well be meandering through a safari park wrapped in raw meat. And not just any meat either,” he clarified. “High-quality Wagyu beef from Hakata or Saga. Normal people who can see ayakashi are rare. My kind usually gobbles up prey like you in no time.”

“Yikes!” I yelped.

“Still, we need to do something about your spiritual energy for the sake of public safety. Seriously though, no ayakashi has ever attacked you?”

“I-I don’t think so.”

“Has anything strange ever happened to you?” he pressed. “Do people get uncomfortably close to you? Or are they unnaturally drawn to you?”

“Not that I can think of…”

That said, the president of my workplace sprang to mind. Our company—Chikuzen Clear Office Equipment—sold and leased office automation tools. President Takeshi Mami had become so infatuated with me that I felt compelled to find a new job. But Shinozaki and I were discussing ayakashi. The matter with my boss was probably unrelated. I hoped.

“But come to think of it…” I began.

“Yes?”

“People affiliated with Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines can see ayakashi, right?” I remembered Keiko Nieshima, a senior employee at Chikuzen. She was the one claiming I’d seduced the president.

“I come from a line of miko from a remote island,” she’d told me with a toss of her hair. “That’s why I can sometimes see things others can’t.”

The suddenness of the revelation had startled me, and as a result, her words lodged themselves in my mind.

Shinozaki sighed, evidently giving up for the moment. “Well, family histories often become untraceable. It’s especially common for the maternal side to go unrecorded.”

“But I’d never seen an ayakashi until today,” I insisted.

“You suddenly gained the ability to see us just a little while ago?”

“Yeah… Probably.”

He placed a hand on his chin, seemingly deep in thought again. “Perhaps you had a seal placed on you, and it came undone for some reason.”

“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. After all, I’m just an ordinary office worker. Nothing special.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Yep,” I replied.

“You’re absolutely certain there’s nothing odd about you?”

My heart skipped a beat. “O-Of course!” I laughed.

Shinozaki and I descended to the subway platform of Fukuoka Tenjin Station. People of all ages milled around us, waiting to ride the train home.

“Say, Kikui, why don’t you come work for me?” asked Shinozaki abruptly.

“Pardon?”

“You have the makings of a miko, and your spiritual energy is like a busted pipe. If we don’t suppress it, ayakashi will keep hounding you forever. You’ve been job-hunting, right? Take a look at this.” He showed me a job description on his electronic tablet.

As I read it, I broke out in a cold sweat. The offer came with an unbelievable salary and benefits I’d never even imagined. It was the dream job of dream jobs.

“Um… Is this some kind of mistake?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Given my job history, this offer is, uh, way too good to be true. Speaking of which, don’t you need to see my résumé? I’m not even a college graduate. I have nothing but a high school diploma and general office experience.”

“You can hand in your résumé after you start working for me.”

“What kind of business are you running?!”

The overly enticing proposal had me at a loss. The nekomata fortune teller from earlier that evening flashed across my mind.

Wait, is he trying to dupe me too?!

“Since you’re job-hunting, you’re already training your replacement, right?” asked Shinozaki. “Can you start working for me next week? Wrap everything up and quit your job.”

“This is way too sudden!” I cried. “And pushy, for that matter!”

“I’m being serious.” He leaned closer to me, his golden eyes narrowing. “Like I said, you’re essentially raw meat dancing through a safari park. For your sake and the safety of Tenjin, we need to get your spiritual energy under control.”

“U-Um…”

“I’ll give you a job and help you with your spiritual energy. What more could you want?”

“But…” I faltered. “But I had my heart set on a more normal job.”

The unexpected turn of events had left me in a state of confusion. I’d striven to live a normal life that befit my standing.

For some reason, I’ve always been scared of leaping into the unknown.

Yes. I was abnormally frightened of deviating from normalcy. From my routine. I hadn’t applied to college, hadn’t braved moving to Tokyo. I’d chosen a job close to my family home based on my high school’s recommendation. I hadn’t spoken up about my boss’s sexual harassment. I hadn’t even considered a new career until realizing the situation could cost me the chance of a normal courtship and marriage.

I’ve always been too terrified.

“I’m sorry, but…I’m scared,” I admitted.

“Scared?” repeated Shinozaki.

“I’m frightened of being abnormal.See, my hands have always trembled in situations like these.” I lifted a shaking hand, and Shinozaki began to extend his own toward me.

I thrust my head into a bow. “I really appreciate your kindness, but, um, I’ll have to pass on the offer! I sincerely apologize!”

“Hey, wai—”

Before he could finish, I dashed into the train car.

“Please refrain from running,” the conductor said in a deeply irritated tone.

I bobbed my head in apology. As the subway train departed, Shinozaki remained on the platform, his mouth hanging open. When he at last disappeared from view, I breathed a sigh of relief.

🍁🍁🍁

DESPITE such an abnormal evening, the next morning began the same as any other. I went to work and punched my timecard in the quiet office at seven o’clock.

After sorting the mail, I prepared materials for the sales staff. Then I completed the minor chores that they’d off-loaded to me after I clocked out the day before. Lastly, I compiled a checklist of tasks in order of precedence on the back of a misprinted sheet of paper. I gave myself some wiggle room, predicting which requests I might receive that day.

I liked odd jobs and general office work a surprising amount. And my efforts allowed the other employees to perform their duties in a stress-free environment.

“Alrighty,” I mumbled. “Time to go.”

The coffee maker in the kitchenette chimed to signal that it had finished brewing, and a delightful aroma filled the air. The coffee’s delivery to the president’s office on the top floor was the final item of my morning routine. My heart sank. Would the president let me return to work after that morning’s encounter?

“Pardon me,” I said, entering the room.

“Ah, good morning, my little cutie pie!” the president cooed. “Did you bring me another barista-level coffee today?”

Takeshi Mami was a stout man in his fifties with prominent bags under his drooping eyes. He grinned at me, his rotund frame crammed into a luxurious chair. I admired his determination to always be the first person to the office. But I didn’t want to spend time with him. His advances always made me uncomfortable.

“No, no, not at all,” I replied.

When I set the coffee on his desk, he grabbed my hand. As my breath caught, he leaned into me with a burst of energy.

“Have you given any thought to joining me in Nakasu tonight?” he asked.

“Well, um…” I would have agreed if it were a drinking party with coworkers or a client.

That would still be rough though.

Yet warning bells sounded in my head. Time alone with President Mami seemed dangerous.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “A friend of mine owns the restaurant, and his whole family will be there. It’ll be a casual affair. Good girls like you are a rarity these days. I just want to introduce everyone to my newest employee. Sounds fun, right?”

“I-I really appreciate the thought, but—!”

President Mami leaned closer and closer. Conversely, I tilted so far backward that I nearly performed a backbend, deflecting with a polite smile.

The bell signaling morning assembly rang. The comical, floaty sound couldn’t have come at a better time. The president released my hand, blew me a kiss, and exited the room.

“I’m exhausted,” I grumbled.

Leaving his office, I unexpectedly ran into Keiko Nieshima. She was college educated and twenty-seven years old—seven years older than me.

“Good morning,” I said.

Naturally, she ignored me.

Just my luck. This is going to start another rumor about me having an affair with the president, first thing in the morning. Could my life get any worse?

To my surprise, Nieshima approached me shortly after I reached my desk. “Are those documents ready?”

“Oh, um, do you mean these?” I feigned a bit of panic, not wanting to reveal that I’d finished them well in advance.

Nieshima stared at the papers with an unamused expression before reluctantly accepting them. In all likelihood, she’d hoped to put me on the spot. “Goodness,” she said. “You had time to prepare these when you were in the president’s office all morning again?” She spoke loudly enough for the entire office to hear.

In spite of my urge to flee, I simply smiled.

“My, my,” she continued. “You know this company so well that you can produce reports I don’t even remember asking for. Is that why you get so much love from the president? Still, I’d rather not know what his love looks like. I appreciate the help either way. I wouldn’t want to do this sort of grunt work in a million years.” She waved goodbye, wiggling her fingers, as she returned to the sales department.

“Nice work,” a male coworker whispered to me, trying to avoid her gaze.

Nonetheless, I heard Nieshima cluck her tongue.

Please don’t praise me in front of her,I thought, wanting to shrink into myself.

🍁🍁🍁

DONE with their morning assignments, the other employees scattered for lunch. I ate a boxed meal while manning the phone. It consisted of leftover meat-and-potato stew from the day before, a boiled egg, and rice.

“Grunt work, huh?” I murmured.

I liked general office work. My preemptive organizing helped my coworkers. So Nieshima’s mockery stung all the more.

“Hey there, cutie pie,” wheedled a familiar voice as a hand clapped on my shoulder.

“Wha—?!”

The president began to massage my shoulders.

“P-President Mami?” I asked. “Um…”

“Your lunch looks tasty,” he said. “Did you pack it yourself?”

“Y-Yes. It’s leftovers of what my mom made for dinner last night.”

He chuckled. “Mm, I’d love to have a bite.”

Visceral disgust washed over me. He seemed to be referring to me rather than my lunch. I’m going to be sick.

I couldn’t brush him off, and he’d cornered me alone. He must have checked the security camera in his office beforehand.

Just then, the phone rang. My hand shot out to answer it.

“Could you have picked up any slower?!” screeched Nieshima from the receiver. “Don’t slack off just because you’re on phone duty! Not when there’s a number I need you to look up for me!”

I’m saved! Escaping President Mami’s grasp, I headed to Nieshima’s desk, her shrill voice a lifeline. In the corner of my eye, I spotted the president grudgingly puttering away as Nieshima shrieked accusation after accusation at me. After significant bowing and scraping, I was free to leave.

I only have five minutes left of my break,I realized. I wolfed down the rest of my lunch. Once I’d tidied my desk, I took a swig of green tea from my thermos and slumped in my chair with a sigh. A wave of exhaustion crashed through me.

And I still have no idea what to do. President Mami wanted to have an affair with me. Consequently, I’d attracted unwanted attention from my coworkers.

Over the past three years, I’d learned how to do my job well. I’d tried hard to earn the trust of my fellow employees. Furthermore, through trial and error, I’d become quite adept at handling unreasonable demands. Despite all the bad, I still enjoyed the job.

But what’s the point if my efforts breed nothing but resentment? Do I have no choice but to grin and bear it?

I recalled my encounter with Shinozaki the previous day. Would another path have opened up to me if I’d accepted his offer?

🍁🍁🍁

IN the end, President Mami dragged me to Nakasu. I could hardly complain about a free meal at an upscale restaurant, especially because the drinks flowed until the last train. Yet the president’s friends—a group of middle-aged men—and even the chef seemed to view me as that sort of woman, which was awful. In any case, his friends hailed from Ehime Prefecture. All of them had moved to Fukuoka for various reasons and had banded together to build their lives there.

“Well, we’ve gained a lot of power and influence since then,” said President Mami. “Not even Iyo stands a chance against us now!”

Everyone guffawed at the president’s declaration, Iyo the historical name for Ehime.

Incapable of holding my liquor, I responded to all conversation with vague, sober pleasantries. Eventually I excused myself, citing the fact that I still lived with my parents, and raced to Nakasukawabata Station. Fortunately, I found an empty seat on the subway train. Sliding into it, I hugged my tote bag to my chest and closed my eyes.

I jolted awake after what felt like a mere few seconds when the announcement for Ōhori Park Station sounded from the PA system.

No, this is wrong, the complete opposite direction from home.

I pushed past the drunks loitering near the door, scrambling to exit the train.

“That was a close one,” I mumbled as I watched it speed away. “I nearly wound up in Karatsu.”

I found I hardly cared. Midnight had already passed, and exhaustion crashed over me. Since standing around wouldn’t do me any good, I climbed the platform stairs and began to cross Ōhori Park.

“How should I get home?” I wondered aloud. “A taxi?” Though I really don’t want to have to take one…

Of course, not a single other person remained in the park at such a late hour. During the day, joggers and dog-walkers populated the tranquil area. Pitch-black and deserted, it frightened me somewhat. A reflection of the full moon wavered on the surface of the pond. Somewhere the beat of bird wings rustled against branches and leaves.

I’m scared.

As I walked numbly, the scenery flickered before my eyes like a mirage.

“What the?”

In front of me stood the fortune teller—the man who’d lured me to his booth in front of Fukuoka Tenjin Station the day before.

“Found you,” he growled, his golden eyes gleaming.

Although he appeared human at a glance, cat ears peaked the hood of his robe, and its shredded hem revealed fluffy paws in place of his feet.

Aw, what an adorable little kitty-cat… Sike! You’re not melting my heart anytime soon!

His sharp claws glinted with a dangerous light as he slowly closed the distance between us.

“Um, Mr. Cat, I’m just an office worker,” I tried. “I’m not the least bit tasty!”

“I’ve erected a magical barrier,” responded the nekomata. “No one will interfere while I slice you to ribbons and drink your blood.”

A chill zipped down my spine. Simultaneously, a voice cried out from a place so deep within my heart that I hadn’t known it existed: This is why letting go of being normal scared me! This is why I was so terrified!

I stumbled backward, tremors racking my entire body. “Please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die. I’m begging you…!”

“I don’t want to die either,” the nekomata said. “And I won’t survive much longer unless I kill you.”

Someone, anyone, save me! I retreated another step as the nekomata crept toward me, my eyes darting over our surrounds. Naturally, I saw no one and nothing. Not a single soul would come to my rescue in the dead of night.

Think! I urged myself, gripping the transit card hanging from my bag. Use every ounce of intelligence you have to think!

A furious customer had stormed into our office once, I remembered. The male employees were all out for the day, and Nieshima had run screaming.

Even though her pushy sales tactics were the source of the complaint.

I recalled the terror of facing that red-faced, middle-aged man alone. What had I done back then? Obviously, I’d calmed him down. After all, he wanted nothing more than to live a normal, happy life as well. “If you let your anger take control and cause an incident, your life will go up in smoke,” I’d told him in an even tone.

I need to buy some time.

I inhaled.

“Suppose you do kill me,” I said to the nekomata. “Normal humans may never discover the cause of my death. But won’t other ayakashi or the people who hunt your kind track you down?”

Shinozaki had said as much the previous evening. Ayakashi had their own set of rules, and he’d condemned the nekomata’s illegal activities, acting as a self-cleansing force within their society.

If I don’t stop him, he’ll bring disaster upon himself and every other ayakashi in Fukuoka.

“Either way, I’ll die if I don’t absorb your soul,” the nekomata said. “And I’m not ready to leave this world just yet!”

“Why don’t we talk to Shinozaki?” I suggested. “He was trying to help you.”

“Lies!” the nekomata bellowed, half-deranged. His claws shot toward me, and I instinctively raised my arms to protect myself.

A thwack rang out as his claws bounced off a solid object. Something had shielded me.

“That damn fox,” the nekomata hissed, glaring at my tote bag.

I looked down. “Huh?”

The card case dangling from it was emitting a faint glow. Removing the transit card, I noticed the eyes of the prairie dog mascot sparkling. “Since when have the local train cards been able to do that?” I muttered. I didn’t know how or why, but the card seemed to have become a sort of protective amulet. “Oh, wait, there’s a sticker on his eyes…”

Shinozaki had swiped my tote bag before taking me to Kawazoe’s food stall. He must have placed the sticker then.

“Shinozaki,” I whispered.

He’d given me an amulet out of concern for my safety. And I’d rejected his job offer. I’d immediately turned him down due to fear and timidity.

He’d looked so forlorn watching me rush onto the train. Because humans like me were afraid of him. He and the nekomata lived in a different world. Because humans like me had rejected them for being abnormal.

I didn’t know anything about him or ayakashi. And yet, he’d treated me to a wonderful meal. Most humans would never have the chance to experience Kawazoe’s incredible udon.

Shinozaki and his companions lived in peace, striving to ensure that ayakashi weren’t eradicated from human society. Falling prey to the nekomata would threaten the normal lives of those ayakashi.

And deep down, I thought as I eyed the creature, he wants to be part of this society too.

“Ngh!” the nekomata grunted in frustration, tensing under my gaze.

After another deep breath, I forced myself to smile at him. “Attacking me right now won’t solve any of your problems, Mr. Cat.”

“At the very least, it’ll replenish my spiritual energy. It’ll buy me more time on the Near Shore.”

“But you’ll just get hungry again before long, right? No matter how appetizing my spiritual energy, will it satisfy you for ten years? One?”

The nekomata was silent.

“Don’t throw away your life for such a short period of time,” I implored him.

I don’t know anything about spiritual energy. I don’t understand ayakashi either. I’m scared of anything abnormal.

Even so, I couldn’t ignore someone in trouble.

“In reality, you hate attacking humans, don’t you?” I guessed. “If you actually wanted to hurt me, you wouldn’t have announced your intention like that. You could’ve killed me with a single slash from behind.”

“I…”

“You acted similarly yesterday too. Sure, you tried to force that energy bracelet on me. You even gave me a sales pitch. But you were really just repeating snatches of advertisements you’d heard elsewhere, right?”

The nekomata’s eyes widened, confirming my suspicion.

“I talked to you about wanting to live a normal life,” I continued. “You listened to me with such an earnest demeanor that I truly believed you understood my feelings. But as soon as you started pitching the bracelet, your advice stopped hitting the mark. You must have seen other fortune tellers pushing similar bracelets on their clients. You thought that was the only way to secure my spiritual energy. In other words, you were just imitating someone else’s behavior. Am I wrong?”

His tails drooped. While his expression remained stiff, his body betrayed his emotions.

Just like I thought, he’s not evil. He’s a decent person at heart.

“I was so glad you listened to me yesterday,” I said. “This time, I’d like to hear about your circumstances. We don’t have to fight to the death. Is that okay?”

Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching from behind.

The newcomer’s ears formed sharp points, his golden hair shimmering beneath the streetlight. Shinozaki.

How did he know I was here? Did he plant something else in my bag?

“In the past, humans used ayakashi as familiars,” he said, staring at the nekomata and ignoring me. “These days, we ayakashi work in human society. Their need for us is what allows us to stay on the Near Shore.”

“Exactly,” the nekomata replied. “That’s why I set up a booth in Tenjin…”

“I know. So why did you run away that afternoon when I came to scout you?”

The nekomata didn’t answer.

“Ayakashi can travel to the Far Shore,” said Shinozaki. “We don’t have to force ourselves to live in human society. You must have a reason to stay here at the risk of death. Let me guess: you’re still attached to the humans who cared for you, no?”

After a short pause, the nekomata said, “That’s right.”

Then he vomited blood and collapsed to the ground.

“Mr. Cat!” I cried, racing over to him.

He had shrunk into a small, black cat.

“He’s reached his limit,” murmured Shinozaki.

The cat’s chest, illuminated by the streetlights of Ōhori Park, rose and fell laboriously. Shinozaki picked up the tiny creature and handed him to me. The cat curled into a ball in my arms, his ragged breathing relaxing somewhat.

“Being in contact with your overflowing spiritual energy should comfort him,” Shinozaki explained. “It would comfort any ayakashi.”

“Really?” I asked. “Thank goodness I can help.”

“I…” A human voice issued from my arms. “I wanted to protect his house forever.”

Falteringly, the nekomata related his story. For generations, he’d watched over a single family. The practice of keeping shapeshifting cats as familiars was once common, but an age had arrived when people no longer relied on ayakashi. Over time, even those he served forgot that their cat was anything but. Nevertheless, he’d continued to protect the household from a reasonable distance, never forgetting his master.

The house had endured famine, the Meiji Restoration, and two world wars. Yet in the end, it fell to depopulation. The line vanished along with the local village. The nekomata stayed with his final master until the man’s dying hour. Only when he started to starve had he descended to the human settlement of Fukuoka.

Tears spilled from the nekomata’s eyes. “So long as I’m alive… So long as I stay in this world, I can keep watching over their home. The house itself might have rotted away, but so long as I can remain on the land… in the mountains where they sleep…”

I could feel him growing lighter in my arms. “Mr. Cat!” I cried. “Please don’t die, Mr. Cat! Take my spiritual energy! I can do that much for you!”

“No,” interrupted Shinozaki, his voice cold enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Don’t give him your spiritual energy without forming a contract. Humans and ayakashi are fundamentally different beings. Would you offer one of your fingers to a starving beast? Do you think it could resist devouring your entire hand?”

His words froze me to the core. Terror seized me once more, its grasp far tighter than when the nekomata attacked me.

“Then what should I do?” I asked helplessly.

“There is a way to save him,” Shinozaki replied. “Form a temporary master-servant contract with him.”

“Can I even do something like that?”

“The contract need only last until he establishes a place in human society and becomes capable of sustaining his own spiritual energy.” Shinozaki placed his large hand on my shoulder. It was warm, gentle. “You can do this, Kikui. You can use your innate abilities to save this cat.”

The nekomata looked up at me, his body drained of strength.

“I’ll do it,” I said.

“Excellent,” said Shinozaki. “Strengthen your core and repeat after me.”

He whispered in my ear, and I recited, “I command thee in the name and blood of Kaede Kikui. Thou shalt serve as my familiar for as long as I live.”

Warm light shone in my arms as I cradled the nekomata. Golden sparkles rippled through his fur, and his black coat regained its luster. He meowed softly as vitality returned to his weakened form. He actually felt somewhat heavier in my arms, and witnessing his revival in real time sent another chill down my spine.

“Give him a name,” Shinozaki whispered. “Use it to grant him a new life.”

“Um…” I studied the nekomata. “How about Yoru?” His black fur reminded me of the evening sky. What name could’ve suited him better than the Japanese word for night? “Yes, your new name is Yoru!”

He let out another quiet mew before transforming into a human man once more. Then the nekomata—no, Yoru—fell to his knees and bowed deeply. “Thank you so much.”

“No, uh, there’s no need to kowtow like that,” I protested.

“I promise to serve you now and for all eternity.”

“Um… Why not just until you recover? Don’t overdo it on my account, okay?”

Late night shadowed Ōhori Park. I wore a wrinkled business suit. Shinozaki’s blond hair and intense aura made him look like a member of the yakuza. And a young man was pressing his forehead to the ground in front of us.

This is starting to look like an insane crime scene. We need to get out of here.

“Well then,” Shinozaki said smoothly, “we’ll discuss your future living arrangements and job at my office tomorrow.”

I proffered my hand to Yoru.

Clasping it, he stood. “I can’t even begin to thank you.”

“You really don’t have to keep saying that,” I replied.

“How else can I express my gratitude when you’re going to be taking care of me from now on?”

“Wait, what?” I asked, recoiling instinctively. “Are you planning to live with me?”

Yoru cocked his head, puzzled. “What else would I do?”

“Um, I’m not sure how my parents will react to me bringing home a shapeshifting cat.”

“Yoru can stay in my office for the time being,” Shinozaki said, offering me a lifeline. “We can figure it out one step at a time.”

Nodding, Yoru took my hand again and smiled faintly. His face, illuminated by streetlight, had a model-like beauty. Between Shinozaki and Yoru, I was beginning to wonder if all male ayakashi were gorgeous.

“Um… Are you not going to let go of my hand?”

Abruptly, Yoru’s eyes gleamed in ecstasy, and he licked his lips. “Delectable,” he murmured, his fingers intertwining with mine.

“Huh?!” I squawked. “What?!”

“Stop stealing bites of her spiritual energy, no matter how much it’s leaking!” roared Shinozaki, ripping us apart. “We’re done here for tonight! I’ll drive you home, so let’s get a move on!”

I didn’t even consider refusing.

🍁🍁🍁

AFTER settling Yoru at Shinozaki’s office, the latter dropped me off in front of my house in Kashii. He even greeted my parents.

“I know your daughter through work,” he explained. “I offered to drive her home since President Mami forced her to stay out until the last train.”

My late arrival with a handsome man from an unfamiliar company shocked my parents. Nevertheless, they thanked Shinozaki. They were aware of my work situation, and apparently my father—a normal, human civil servant—recognized him and considered him trustworthy. At any rate, the evening concluded without any further fuss.

🍁🍁🍁

THE following day, I went to work as usual.

When the setting sun began to cast its bright glare through the windows, I visited every floor to close the blinds. Finished, I returned to my desk and checked the time. It was exactly six o’clock in the evening. With a heavy heart, I headed to President Mami’s office for my final task.

“Pardon me,” I mumbled in front of his door. Upon entering, I saw—

Shinozaki?

“What the heck?!” I cried. Then I noticed the large, unfamiliar creature sitting in the president’s chair. “A t-tanuki?”

“Crafty old men are often called tanuki, no?” said Shinozaki. “Looks like we’ve found ourselves a shapeshifting one.” He glanced at the president. “Takeshi Mami. You’ve been absorbing spiritual energy from your employee, Kaede Kikui, haven’t you?”

I yelped. “Seriously?!”

“On the surface, Chikuzen Clear is an ordinary business leasing office equipment. Secretly, however, President Mami has been leasing shapeshifting tanuki disguised as office equipment. Then he sells the personal information gained through such deceit.”

I wasn’t expecting that.

“Your actions, President Mami,” continued Shinozaki, “have grown far more conspicuous since Kikui joined the company. Gorging yourself on so much spiritual energy must have made you cocky. Regardless, your behavior is undeniably criminal.”

President Mami trembled with rage. “Th-This is slander!” he bellowed, his tanuki tail visible behind the chair.

I could only gape.

“You can explain how this is slander to the Fukuoka prefectural police,” Shinozaki replied. “The Ayakashi Unit is already on its way. Please voice any concerns you have to them.” Then, indicating that I should accompany him, he swept out of the office.

Still somewhat dazed, I asked, “A-Am I going to be arrested too? What about my coworkers?”

“The humans will probably be fine,” Shinozaki answered, shrugging as we descended the stairs. “At the very least, nothing serious can come of the police questioning you. You were just an office grunt, after all.”

The whoop-whoop of sirens echoed from outside. Shortly, officers entered the building and took President Mami into custody.

After exchanging a few words with them, Shinozaki turned to me. “Let’s go,” he said.

“We can just leave?!”

“They advise us to do so before the regular police arrive and the real trouble starts.”

I bowed to the officers, clutched my tote bag to my chest, and withdrew to Shinozaki’s company car on shaky legs.

I wound up sitting in front since his personal belongings crowded the back seat. The car’s FM radio played quietly in the background, and as soon as he started driving, I heaved a deep sigh. “I’m still in shock,” I said. “That was terrifying.”

“I’ll drive you home. Mind putting your address in the GPS?”

“No problem.”

The car sped toward my family home, crossing Tatara River in a straight line to Kashii on National Route 3. Shinozaki clarified the situation on the way.

“Takeshi Mami is a tanuki from Shikoku,” he said. “After losing a power struggle, he and his associates decided to hide out in Fukuoka as humans. Mami started a leasing company; the others opened upscale restaurants, riding the wave of the postwar economic boom. Before long, they integrated into Fukuoka as normal citizens.”

Once he grew comfortable, however, President Mami returned to his crafty ways. He’d always been a disreputable tanuki, after all.

“Mami hired tanuki who struggled to shapeshift into humans. He ordered them to disguise themselves as office equipment, saving him money on the devices Chikuzen Clear leased. In all likelihood, his scheme would have stopped there, had a new employee overflowing with spiritual energy not joined his company.”

“Oh, right, how did you describe me again?” I asked. “Walking around a safari park wrapped in meat?”

“Your spiritual energy stirred Mami’s ayakashi instincts,” said Shinozaki. “Touching you, absorbing your energy, he began to regain his ambition. Presumably, he sought to make even more money, expand his influence, and exact vengeance on the tanuki in Shikoku. He leased tanuki after tanuki. Then he started to sell the personal information of clients throughout Fukuoka Prefecture.”

In the end, his greed had led to a police investigation.

“I’m sorry I didn’t save you sooner. The police were questioning a tanuki who literally exposed himself with his tail. But he refused to rat out Mami, so I probed the spiritual energy in your office via your transit card. Naturally, I shared the information with the authorities. I apologize for using you, but you should receive a letter of thanks from the police within the next few days.”

“I’m, um, glad I could help.” After a moment of thought, I ventured, “So…the company is going under, isn’t it?”

“At the very least, humans such as yourself will probably be laid off.”

“Yeah, that makes sense…”

“Why the long face?”

“Well, I’m wondering what to do now. Unlike other women my age, I don’t really have any goals or dreams.”

During high school, my friends all chased their chosen futures, endeavoring to improve their lives in various ways. Each of them was dazzling in their own right, and I’d contented myself watching from the sidelines. One friend had wanted to become a social media star. Another aimed to polish her performance in club activities. Others pursued leaving Kyushu, attending college, and finding a decent man in Tokyo.

I didn’t need anything so grand. A normal life, one full of laughter and within my sphere of comfort, was more than enough.

“I just want to live a modest, peaceful life,” I said. “I enjoy office work and living with my parents in Fukuoka. I wouldn’t mind marrying someone in the area. All that must sound pretty strange, right? It’s definitely odd. No one would call what I want a ‘dream.’”

Sporadic cars zoomed across the expressway gently arcing over Hakata Bay. The sound of rushing vehicles and the hum of the engine sat quietly between me and Shinozaki. Yoru slept on my lap, recharging his spiritual energy. A dreamlike, evening view of the harbor—tranquil and beautiful—unfolded below us. Brilliant light illuminated the ships and cargo containers.

“You remember how I turned down your offer to work at your company?” I asked.

“Of course,” Shinozaki replied.

“Honestly, I was scared. Scared that if I worked for you, I’d have to abandon the normal life I’ve tried so hard to protect. Not only can I see ayakashi, but I’m also leaking spiritual energy? That sounded crazy. The notion of leaping into an abnormal life terrified me.”

“That’s perfectly natural,” he reassured me. Seeming to consider each word before he spoke, he continued, “Instinctively, you must fear standing out due to being born with spiritual energy. In other words, your survival instinct manifested as a desire to live a simple life in a stable environment. This instinct persisted as an obsessive compulsion when you considered the future. I mentioned this before, didn’t I? People with spiritual energy are more likely to become prey to ayakashi.”

“…I see.”

“And besides, I think you’ve chosen an admirable way of life.”

“You do?” I turned to look at him.

The fox smiled. “Your upbringing, environment, parents, and the people in your life have already brought you fulfillment. You have so much love that you don’t feel the need to chase dreams. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah… I guess so.”

“You know the comfort of a normal life and recognize the happiness afforded to you. Struggling to get ahead isn’t the only point of existence. Your wonderful parents raised you to be an admirable woman.”

My vision suddenly blurred, and I rubbed my eyes. Somehow, Shinozaki had unearthed my innermost feelings, sentiments I hadn’t even recognized.

“You’re exactly right,” I said. “I love my parents, and the world I’ve grown up in has been so happy.”

Since childhood, my life within that fifty-kilometer radius had been so blissful that it felt tailor-made for me. I was raised in a regular household, my parents were a happy couple, and I couldn’t have asked for better friends. I wanted to continue living in that world.

Unfortunately, none of my friends had the same dream. Perhaps, somewhere deep down, I felt guilty for not dreaming bigger.

“Modern society constantly fuels our desires by bombarding us with information,” Shinozaki said. “I think it’s wonderful that you’ve lived such a happy life. And you have worked hard to achieve your dream, haven’t you? There’s no need to think so poorly of yourself.”

“Huh? But I don’t have any exciting goals…”

“Chikuzen Clear’s reviews started to improve when you joined the company.”

That was news to me.

“According to clients, the company got faster at processing paperwork, and the reception staff were more attentive,” Shinozaki said. “Before, Chikuzen Clear had a lot of negative ratings in those particular areas. Your hard work rebuilt their reputation. I’m sure of it.”

Evidently, he’d done his research before scouting me. He knew exactly how I operated.

“Despite the harsh treatment and sexual harassment, you worked hard for three years without missing a day or coming in late,” he pointed out. “You methodically learned how to do your job and performed those duties every day, your attention to detail backed by genuine effort. Last night when you were talking to Yoru, I saw for myself how perceptive you are.

“Your boss displayed so much favoritismbecause he’s an ayakashi. It was simply bad luck; you would’ve had a much better time working at any other company.”

Shinozaki switched on the turn signal and changed lanes, smoothly guiding the car through the interchange. “Don’t be afraid to acknowledge your strengths,” he said. He smiled at me before gliding onto the off-ramp. “You’re a wonderful young woman. I guarantee it.”

The hardened parts of my heart began to crumble piece by piece.

“So, will you come work for me?” he asked, still smiling as he regarded me with serene eyes. “I would love to have someone with your talents. Plus, I would do everything in my power to protect your normal life.”

“I’m here too,” a familiar voice said as a sleek, black tail coiled around my arm. Startled, I twisted toward the backseat to find Yoru. At some point, he’d relocated and transformed into an adult man. He looked like an upstanding individual in his brand-new, black suit.

“Yoru was worried about you too,” Shinozaki said. “If anything happened to you, he’d lose his master and become a stray again.”

The nekomata nodded. His complexion, ears, and hair all had a healthy sheen. Composed and quiet, he seemed like an entirely different person.

Apparently, there were different types of ayakashi. Some needed a master while others merely stabilized their spiritual energy better with one, and some drew power from the land itself. Other varieties existed as well. In a sense, ayakashi were similar to humans: each of us lived in our own unique manner. Yoru, of course, was the sort of ayakashi that preferred a human master.

“You’re working for Shinozaki now?” I asked. “I thought you’d keep fortune telling.”

“Honestly,” the cat replied, “I don’t know much about fortune telling.”

“You don’t?!”

“I only did it to steal spiritual energy. I’m making up for that now. Speaking of which…” He paused, wrapping one of his tails around my arm once more. Despite his necktie, a low purr rumbled deep within his throat. “Would you mind petting me? Your touch feels incredible, Lady Kaede.” He presented me with his head…his fully human, incredibly handsome head.

“Um, seriously?”

“And let me lick you a bit while I’m at it.”

I choked. “Wha—?!”

He batted his eyelashes at me, his pupils sparkling with a bewitching light. “Just a little bit. You’re so tasty, after all.”

I shuddered. I was starting to understand Shinozaki’s claim that interaction with Yoru would be dangerous in the absence of a contract. At least, I think I do.

“See?” Shinozaki said. “You can’t expect reason from a cat.”

“Ahaha…” I managed dryly.

Yoru transformed into a cat and hopped back into my lap. Well, no harm petting him while he’s an animal,I figured, stroking his fur while he purred in content.

Observing Shinozaki’s and Yoru’s friendly dynamic, I found myself thinking, Wouldn’t it be wonderful to create a world where all ayakashi can live this openly and honestly?

The railroad crossing gate we’d stopped at finally lifted. As the line of cars began to move again, the glare of the setting sun speared through gaps between buildings, forcing me to squint.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Shinozaki,” I said.

“Likewise, Kikui.”

🍁🍁🍁

AFTER the events of those few days, I was bedridden with exhaustion for the first time since becoming a working adult. My parents had worried intensely about me over the past two years, and honestly, I didn’t know how I would have survived if I hadn’t lived at home. In any case, I stayed in bed for the whole week without the slightest guilt. After all, I’d accumulated quite a few paid vacation days.

At some point, Mom entered my room while I drifted in and out of sleep. “Are you feeling any better, Kaede?”

I sat up and accepted the tray of lunch she’d brought me. “Of course,” I answered, my heart swelling with gratitude. “Thanks for the meal.”

As I blew on another spoonful of hot rice porridge, she abruptly said, “I’m glad you quit that job. It made me so uneasy to hear about your boss dragging you around the city.”

“You felt the same way?”

“Of course. But as your mother, I didn’t want to interfere too hastily. Your father and I agreed that we’d help if and only if you ever asked for our support.”

Warmth spread through my chest, and not just due to the steam rising from the porridge.

“Thank you,” I said. “I couldn’t have asked for better parents.”

She ruffled my hair as though I were a small child again. “Listen to you getting all sentimental. I’m so proud to be your mother.”

I needed to recover quickly for my parents’ sake. Likewise, I needed to show them how much butt I could kick at my new job.

Mom began to pepper me with rapid-fire questions, her expression brimming with curiosity. She must have been relieved to finally voice her concerns. “So, what kind of place is this new company?” she asked. “You won’t have another weird boss, right?”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. My new boss, Shinozaki, is an incredible person.”

She seemed to want to ask more questions, and I brushed her off with a laugh. I couldn’t lie to save my life. If she prodded too much, I’d probably end up spilling how abnormal my new position was.

“Thanks for the porridge,” I said. “I’m going to sleep a little more now.”

“Of course. Get all the rest you need and don’t worry your pretty little head.”

As soon as she left the room, I peeked underneath my blanket. “You can come out now, Yoru.”

The nekomata had curled up under the covers like a steamed dumpling and was seemingly fast asleep, since he didn’t stir.

Over the past week, he entered my room through the window from time to time. He sat on my lap or slept beside me to recharge his spiritual energy before leaving again. At first, I hesitated to allow a cat that could transform into a handsome man into my bedroom. Ultimately, however, I conceded. My fever and foggy fatigue had likely contributed to that decision.

He must be worried about me being stuck in bed like this. Smiling to myself, I stroked the rounded nekomata’s fur.

🍁🍁🍁

AFTER plenty of rest and the remainder of my paid leave, I began work with Shinozaki’s company, Fukuoka Ayakashi Career and Moving Services. I met him in Tenjin the Friday before my official start date; he’d offered to show me around the office prior to my first day. When I climbed into his car, he handed me a printed piece of paper.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It’s a report concerning the area around your house,” he replied. “I investigated the source of your leaking spiritual energy but, as expected, couldn’t find anything.” He glanced at me before grumbling, “In any case, I’ll need to give you a bit of first aid before you enter the building today.”

“You can give first aid for this sort of thing?”

“If I don’t do something, it’s only a matter of time until an ayakashi devours you.”

“Yikes!”

Shinozaki drove down Watanabe Avenue, passing through the metropolitan area of Tenjin. We had to stop at each light due to the Friday pedestrian traffic. Each time the carefree melody of “Tōryanse” played from a traffic light, a crowd of people flooded the crosswalk.

“It feels like forever since I’ve been in Tenjin,” I said.

“Well then, Kaede, should we grab a bite to eat on the way back?” asked Shinozaki. “If you’re up for it.”

“Sounds great!” I glanced at him. His stature did not suit the driver’s seat of a Japanese car. All the leg room in the world couldn’t prevent his ears from squashing flat against the ceiling. Adorable, much?

Then I realized—

“Shinozaki.”

“Hm?”

“You just called me ‘Kaede,’ didn’t you?”

“I did indeed.”

“Why did you call me by my given name?” I asked.

“If your family name was Suzuki or Saruwatari, I would’ve used that instead. I just don’t like wells.”

Kikui was written using the kanji for chrysanthemum and water well. “You won’t use my family name because you hate wells?” I pressed. “I think you owe an apology to every Kikui in Japan.”

He ignored me. We traveled at a leisurely pace, enduring several traffic jams despite Shinozaki’s skill in navigating the narrow, winding streets.

“In that case, should I call you by a different name too?” I asked as we reached Imaizumi.

“No, Shinozaki is fine for now,” he said.

The Imaizumi area had a unique atmosphere, old manors and Buddhist temples intermingling with restaurants and boutiques. Pedestrians thronged the road, and two cars could barely squeeze past each other. Shinozaki’s ability to drive through the neighborhood without a single needless twitch of the steering wheel amazed me.

“I can’t believe you can drive in a place like this,” I marveled.

“You get used to it,” he replied. “It’s not that difficult once you understand the unspoken rules of right of way.”

“Okay, Mr. Modesty. I would’ve scraped every corner of the car by now.”

He laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Although I was raised in Kashii, I hardly ever came to Tenjin by car. Even taxis and buses tended to avoid it. Yet after turning down countless tight alleys, Shinozaki parked in the corner of a small lot. Once outside, he led me to a tree in another corner. A tiny shrine about one-third the size of a Stevenson screen stood beneath the tree. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t been looking so carefully.

“You know the custom at Shinto shrines, right?” asked Shinozaki. “Bow twice, clap twice, and bow once more.”

“Got it.”

Shoulder to shoulder, we performed our obeisance. A moment later, my vision spun as if with vertigo.

“Wha—?!”

And a multitenant building materialized in front of me.

What… “What just happened…?”

“Only with our permission can someone enter the building,” Shinozaki said. “Our office is on the second floor.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

The first floor housed a retro café with amber-tinted windows. It could have been a time capsule of the Showa period. I followed Shinozaki up the stairs as he took them two at a time. Before long, he unlocked the door to a small, cozy office that could’ve been in any commercial building. Inside were three or four desks, houseplants, an air purifier, desktop computers, and a printer. File storage boxes neatly lined the shelves, and atop another sat a household shrine flanked by two potted sakaki.

“What a surprisingly normal office,” I said.

Shinozaki launched into a simple explanation of his company. I would serve as a point of contact for ayakashi seeking advice on moving and employment. I’d also be in charge of general office work, just as I had been at my previous job. And eventually, I would interview ayakashi myself and suggest solutions specific to their residence and workplace concerns.

After a brief tour of the office, Shinozaki paused, looking down at me. My heart skipped a beat as his golden eyes bored into me. “It’s about time for your first aid,” he said.

“Okay…”

“All right then, stay still for a moment.” He cupped my cheek in his hand, tilting it up to gaze into my eyes.

He’s so beautiful.

Then he kissed me.

“Huh?” I mumbled against his warm, slightly damp lips. An instant later, I felt something draining from me. Just our lips were touching, yet I felt as though a vacuum cleaner was sucking out my soul. No, as if a black hole had swallowed my very essence. No, like—

I lost consciousness for a moment. When I came to, I found myself in Shinozaki’s arms. “Ah…” I murmured.

Was I dreaming?

Shinozaki narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. His ears and tail sparkled faintly. “Thanks for the meal,” he said.

My mind blanked, and my cheeks burned. As my legs threatened to give out beneath me, he gripped me tighter and leaned in once more to bite me softly on the neck.

“Eek?!”

His teeth just barely grazed my skin, sending tingles through my entire body.

“U-U-Um,” I stammered breathlessly, my voice shrill. “What are you…?”

“Like I said, I’m administering first aid,” he replied. “I’ve absorbed a fair amount of your spiritual energy and marked you with my scent. No ayakashi will dare touch you for the time being.”

“Y-Your scent?”

“I could also absorb your spiritual energy by forming a contract with you. But unfortunately, I already belong to someone else.” He loosened his necktie and unfastened the top button of his shirt.

“W-Wait,” I pleaded, flustered, covering my face with my hands. “I-I’m still numb. If this gets any more intense, I’ll—”

Shinozaki rolled his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I could see his exposed left chest through my fingers. A faint sigil shone against his skin.

“This is proof of the contract my master and I formed a long time ago,” he said. “Our contract is almost identical to the bond between you and Yoru.”

“Really? Yoru has the same sign on his body?”

“Probably. Take a look at his ass, and you might find it.”

“I’m keeping my eyes off his butt, thank you very much!”

“Anyway…” said Shinozaki. “I’ve simply lowered your spiritual energy leakage from a thousand to a hundred. On top of that, I’ve marked you with my scent. No one but me should be able to lay a hand on you until your spiritual energy replenishes. And if someone does lay a hand on you, I’ll know.”

“I…see?” My befuddled mind could hardly keep up. So, okay, Yoru and I have a master-servant relationship. Conversely, Shinozaki is a shrike that’s impaled me on a twig to eat later. In other words, he’s marked me as his prey.

“Wanna head back soon?” he asked. “I’ll still take you out to eat.” He straightened his necktie and closed the sliding window, his uncanny aura gone. His elongated hair and excessively fluffy tail—byproducts of my spiritual energy—were returning to normal as well.

No, nothing is back to normal,I thought, standing up. I’m in a huge pickle now.

“Shinozaki,” I said. “We need to have a chat about something.”

“No problem,” he replied. “What is it?”

“Well, truth be told, I’m barely keeping my cool right now.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because that was my first kiss, you stupid jerk!” I shouted.

He blinked in surprise. “Come again?”

The dismissive flick of his tail all but said, “Oh, is that all?”

“You’ve never had a boyfriend?” he asked in an exasperated tone.

“Nope, not a single one! Does humiliating young ladies make you feel tough, big guy?!”

“Well then, in exchange for stealing your first kiss…” He trailed off, approaching me to cup my cheek again. As he tilted my face toward his a second time, I stiffened. “…I’ll give you something in return,” he finished. “What would you like?”

I considered his offer for three short seconds. “Cold, hard cash.”

“Pick something else. If I give you money, it’ll seem like I bought the kiss.”

“Yeah, something about that does feel wrong,” I conceded.

He nodded. “I’m glad you understand.”

“How about your floof then?”

“Say what?”

“Since you stole my first kiss, you need to repay me with your body as well,” I said. “It’s only fair. Let me touch your tail and ears whenever and however much I want. How about that?”

“That’s it? No problem.”

“Yes! Floof acquired!”

“Be gentle though,” he cautioned, holding his tail and stroking the fur with a smile. “My ‘floof’is sensitive.”

His seductive gaze reminded me of our kiss, and I shuddered. If I gave in to his charm or beauty, I’d never gain the upper hand.

“By the way,” Shinozaki said, “I’ll have to absorb your spiritual energy regularly.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. You produce near a limitless amount, like a geyser spewing water.”

“Wh-Wha…?”

He jingled his keys in front of the door, his tail whisking back and forth, “Ready to go?”

“Um, is there no way to absorb the energy without kissing me?”

“Nope. And who the hell would kiss you if there were another way?”

“Hey!” I cried. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all!”

He shrugged. “In exchange for your spiritual energy, your protection will be my responsibility. At least until we can do something about that leakage.”

Despite his teasing, Shinozaki was really a kind, tenderhearted man, and my chest warmed with gratitude. His promise was all the reassurance I needed. I would do my utmost as his employee to repay the debt as soon as possible.

But that kiss. How do I even feel about it? Sure, the circumstances were pretty decent for a first kiss, but I’m so confused. After all, Shinozaki and I aren’t dating. He’s not even interested in me.

“Earth to Kaede,” he said. “You still with me?”

“Shinozaki.”

“Yeah?”

“You promised to take me out to dinner, right…?” I muttered.

He chuckled wryly, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Don’t expect branded beef.”

“I want to eat udon at Kawazoe’s food stall again…”

“Cute and cheap. I like it.”

And so I began working for the most outrageous boss imaginable—in spite of my efforts until then to live modestly, wanting nothing more than to preserve my normal peace.

🍁🍁🍁

FOUR centuries previous, a shapeshifting fox, a kitsune, swore loyalty to his master.

Tachibanayama Castle guarded a strategic location in Chikuzen Province’s city of Hakata. Dōsetsu Bekki—vassal to the Ōtomo clan based in Buzen Province—governed the castle. He had a single daughter named Ginchiyo.

The kitsune’s master was handmaiden to Lady Ginchiyo.

Ginchiyo was one of the few female castellans to officially inherit a castle from her father during the Sengoku period. After her father’s death, she married Muneshige Tachibana, a man hailed as an unrivaled warlord of the western realms.

Until that union, Ginchiyo had full control of her late father’s domain, army, and fortune. Once married, however, Ginchiyo—like most wives of military commanders—retired from the battlefield. She devoted herself to household management rather than war, and then her duties as a political hostage. But she had also inherited a cadre of retainers and their kitsune from her father. Due to her spiritual prowess, she continued to oversee that asset for the rest of her life.

Eventually, Muneshige was deprived of his territory, property, and status as a samurai. Around the same time, Ginchiyo died in a land far from Hakata, and few accounts of her later years remain. According to a few surviving anecdotes, she worshipped the deity Inari with the same fervor as her father. She was additionally said to have dispatched a shapeshifting fox to greet Muneshige when he returned from battle. And on her deathbed, she prayed to one of the kitsune for her husband’s safety and reinstatement as an officer.

Thus, Ginchiyo’s ill-fated life as lady castellan ended. But what happened to her handmaiden? Furthermore, what happened to the handmaiden’s vulpine familiar?

Alas, not a single record or mention of the handmaiden and her fox survived.

Chapter 2: The Iso-Onna of Itoshima and Dreams of the Mainland

Chapter 2: The Iso-Onna of Itoshima and Dreams of the Mainland

BLINDING, early morning light streamed through the window, heralding dawn’s arrival. Wincing, I turned my back to the sunlight. Unfortunately, my smartphone alarm began to chirp at me from my bedside. After fumbling to turn it off, I checked the screen. The clock displayed 7:01 a.m. over a picture of my welcome party a while back.

Time to get up.

I stretched—and felt a living creature resting on my thighs. Its coarse fur radiated a gentle heat. “Hm?”

I pulled an elongated, black cat from underneath the blanket. Despite his elegant form, he wore a dimwitted expression, his tongue lolling and nose twitching in slumber.

“How many times,” I said, “have I told you not to sleep under the covers?”

Yoru purred. “Mrow.”

“Charming meows will only get you so far.”

Yoru was a nekomata. At a glance, he appeared to be a young, slender, and adorable black cat. Yet to my constant dismay, he could transform into a classically handsome Japanese man with almond eyes. Naturally, I didn’t want him sleeping in my bed. That said, I often relented when he looked like a cat. How could I stay angry at such a cute little kitty?

Yoru and I had formed a master-servant contract. As my pet cat, he’d secured his place in the human realm, which ayakashi frequently referred to as the Near Shore. In the past, Yoru had served a longstanding samurai house for hundreds of years.

Technically, he was currently living in Shinozaki’s office. He even kept a human business suit in his work locker. But when the mood struck him, he sneaked into my room to steal a bite of his master’s spiritual energy. He claimed sleeping next to me stabilized him and put him at ease.

After Yoru left my room, I changed into my job-hunting suit. My parents weren’t home that morning; Dad had gone to work early, and Mom had volunteered to watch the neighborhood children.

I hummed a carefree tune while making toast, then turned on the television to watch the morning news with my breakfast. Fukuoka Prefecture’s local broadcasting station was covering the citizens of Itoshima City, who were preparing to hold a market festival that upcoming weekend.

A young woman on the festival staff was responding to questions in front of the stunning coastline. She was breathtakingly beautiful with long, jet-black hair. “I moved to Itoshima after falling in love with the beautiful ocean and how easy it is to live here,” she said. “I’m so excited to hold fun events like this with the locals.”

“She’s as beautiful as the Little Mermaid,” I mumbled to myself.

The young woman wore a bright red T-shirt. She wasn’t dolled up in the slightest but had a sultry voice and elegant bearing. Someone once said, I recalled, that the most attractive people look best in a simple T-shirt.

Next was entertainment news. When a preview of a kissing scene in some new drama flashed on the screen, I reflexively changed the channel.

“Ugh…” I groaned. I still hadn’t gotten over my kiss with Shinozaki. And I’d seen him every day since joining his company. Given my experience at my previous workplace, I’d been nervous about what might happen, yet Shinozaki treated me with surprising normalcy.

Maybe our kiss wasn’t a big deal to him as an ayakashi.

“All right!” I exclaimed to the empty room. “Time to give this job all I’ve got!”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit,” responded a familiar voice.

“Huh?” Turning to the side, I found Yoru sitting in front of the television. Completely naked. In his human form.

“P-P-Peeeanuuuts!” I shrieked.

“What’s wrong, Lady Kaede?” he asked.

“Human! No clothes! Man! My innocent little eyes!”

Bathing in the gentle, morning light filtering through the curtain, Yoru resembled a pinup model. Sadly, my poor heart couldn’t handle the picturesque sight.

“Don’t mind me,” Yoru said. “I consider my human and cat forms to be one and the same.”

“Listen here. You might not care about modesty because I’m a human woman, but what if I were a female cat?”

“Oh, I see. That’s why you’re so flustered.”

“Yes, that.”

“But since you’re a human woman, what does it matter?”

My eye twitched. “Sorry. Maybe I didn’t explain myself well enough.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Yoru stood.

“Eek!” I squealed, shielding my face with my hands.

Before I glimpsed anything indecent, he transformed into a cat. Slipping past me, he opened the sliding window with dexterous paws and leapt out of the house. “See you at the office, Lady Kaede.”

“Please, for the love of Tenjin, don’t go outside naked as a human,” I muttered.

I cleaned up and turned off the TV, then left as well. I was already exhausted before the day had even begun.

🍁🍁🍁

“GOOD morning.”

“Morning, Kaede,” replied Hainuzuka, the adorably fluffy officer of accounting and general affairs. She looked like a black Shiba Inu in business attire. She unlocked the door for me, then started to prepare tea, her tail swishing back and forth.

Yes, she also called me Kaede. Per Shinozaki’s instructions, everyone had started to refer to me as such. His reaction to my surname had been unusual; no one else had ever refused to use it. In fact, the name Kikui was so rare that most of my friends enjoyed saying it.

Hainuzuka had smiled knowingly at Shinozaki’s request. “Still hate wells, do you?” she’d asked.

Shinozaki called me to his desk as soon as I clocked in. “You’re going to Itoshima today.”

“Itoshima?” I recalled the natural scenery and beautiful coastline on the television that morning. The view would probably be gorgeous under the clear May sky. “So will I be speaking with someone about changing jobs or moving?”

“Not quite,” he replied. “This client moved to Itoshima from Ishikawa five years ago. She has something to discuss with us and specifically asked me to send the newcomer.” He gestured to his desktop monitor, and I leaned in to read a simple overview of the client’s information.

Race: Hamahime

Name: Kiyone

Birth Year: Memories date back approx. 250 years

Place of Origin: Hashitate (Kaga City, Ishikawa Prefecture)

Current Residence: Itoshima

Status: Relocated to an iso-onna settlement with the mediation of an iso-onna named Eime

“Like I said, the client asked to meet our new employee. Go make a proper introduction.”

I nodded. “Understood.” Then another question occurred to me. “Um, Shinozaki…”

“Hm?”

“Our company is officially a career and relocation support service, right?”

“Right.”

“But in reality, we provide a wide range of services to ayakashi that live in Fukuoka or want to live in Fukuoka. Is that correct?”

“It is. On the surface, we’re a career support service, but our duties go beyond that. Of course, we literally provide jobs to individuals like Yoru. Ayakashi like him find their place in the world and stabilize their spiritual energy through human connection. Ayakashi like Kiyone, however, can survive with minimal human interaction so long as they have a physical niche. In other words, their location stabilizes their spiritual energy.”

“Huh,” I said. “Interesting.” I would have to look up hamahime during the commute. I knew only that they were sea-dwelling ayakashi.

“We sometimes help those clients tether themselves to a location,” said Shinozaki. “And some ayakashi want to work even though they already have a community and stable spiritual energy. Obviously, we try to find jobs for those clients as well. Hainuzuka is that sort of ayakashi, actually.”

He glanced at her, and she peeked over her desktop monitor, her tail still swishing to and fro. “My spiritual energy is stable,” she said, “but I can’t relax unless I’m working, you know?”

“So that’s how it works, huh?” I mused.

“It’s a small world for us ayakashi,” Shinozaki said. “Newcomers have a difficult time integrating into existing communities. We have two options in such cases: give up living on the Near Shore or go on a rampage and risk elimination.”

Yoru’s ears drooped. His expression remained impassive, yet Shinozaki’s statement must have been painful. Perhaps a small part of him wanted to flee in shame.

“Anyway,” said Shinozaki, “we provide reliable communities for ayakashi who want to stay on the Near Shore.”

“Wow,” I said. “That makes this place sound more like a charity than a business.”

Shinozaki shrugged. “You could say that. Ayakashi in Fukuoka have a generous patron who supports their immigration. We’ve managed to get by with his help. Somehow or other.”

“A generous patron?”

“You’ll meet him someday, whether you want to or not. It’s time for me to head out though.” He donned the jacket draped over his chair and rose to his feet.

Each time he stood, his towering frame startled me. He was so tall.

“Talk to Hainuzuka if you have any questions,” he instructed.

“Will do.”

“See you later, Shinozaki!” she called, wagging her tail in farewell.

Once he’d departed the office, I turned to her. “So…” I began, listening to Shinozaki’s leather boots descend the stairs, “appearances aside, he’s incredibly good at taking care of people, isn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” she replied. “He’s overcome his fair share of hardship. Maybe that’s why he’s so determined to help other ayakashi now.” The canine woman smiled, a faraway look in her eyes as she tapped a stack of documents on her desk. “He’s got a big heart. If you’re ever in trouble, don’t hesitate to ask him for help.”

🍁🍁🍁

I left the office in Imaizumi and headed to the municipal subway in Akasaka Station. No sooner than I arrived, the train bound for Karatsu paused in front of the platform. After I boarded the car, the subway rocked me back and forth for fifteen minutes, the train eventually climbing a slope. We exited the underground, and light flooded in from the front of the car as the blue sky expanded overhead.

I’d arrived at Meinohama Station, the final stop on the line. The train was empty aside from seniors and families with children since we were traveling away from Hakata and Tenjin. Those few passengers and I transferred to the Chikuhi Line and resumed our race toward Karatsu. We passed through the pine forest Ikinomatsubara near Shimoyamato Station, and before long, I could faintly glimpse the cerulean shore to my right.

The view vanished when the train entered Nagatare Tunnel, the mountain above a rough boundary between the Itoshima and Fukuoka municipalities. As we exited the tunnel, the coastline’s sandy beach unfolded before me. Numerous yachts’ white sails dotted the blue sea like a flock of cabbage butterflies, and the scene, with Nokonoshima Island in the distance, captivated me.

For a moment, I forgot all about work. The scenery was so different from that of the Kaizuka Line in my home ward of Higashi. As the empty train sped down the unfamiliar route, I felt incredibly fortunate to experience such an adventure. My head was spinning with giddiness.

Eventually, the train stopped among fields of rice, the ocean far behind us, at Susenji Station.

I found a bright red car waiting for me.

“Hey there,” the driver said, leaning her head out of the open window. “Are you the newbie?” She was a dazzlingly beautiful woman; the contrast of her jet-black hair against her fair skin was breathtaking.

I lowered my head, my heart skipping a beat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said. “My name is Kaede Kikui.”

“I’m Kiyone. Nice to meet you too, Kikui.”

“Um, were you on television this morning, by chance?”

The beautiful woman’s—Kiyone’s—eyes widened in delight. “You watched my interview? Thank you so much.” She accepted my business card then gestured to the passenger seat, her red lips curling into a smile. “Hop in.”

I circled around to climb into the car. “Th-Thanks for the ride.”

After exiting a roundabout, we drove through the metropolitan area toward Itoshima Peninsula. A pleasant breeze blew through the front door windows.

“We’re going to Keya Beach, and the streets around Chikuzen-Maebaru station are always busy,” Kiyone explained. “We’ll cut through the area around Kyushu University instead.”

We followed a national road that twisted between mountains and rice paddies, and I could hardly believe we were anywhere near a beach. I glanced at the beautiful driver. She seemed intimately familiar with our surrounds.

Based on my research, hamahime were stunningly attractive ayakashi that dwelled in the sea around the Hokuriku region. I stole another look at Kiyone. She was so gorgeous that I felt as though I were sharing a car with a celebrity. Yet she was indistinguishable from a human.

I could see Yoru’s and Shinozaki’s animal ears and tails. According to the latter, most people couldn’t, and I had the ability due to my spiritual energy. Even so, Kiyone looked like an ordinary human to me. Perhaps hamahime blended more easily into human society.

Finally leaving the university campus, we wove through the mountains until reaching a road along the coast. As the sea breeze washed over us, Kiyone’s commentary on the novel landscape tantalized me.

“You,” she said, turning the steering wheel, “have the look of someone seeing this place for the first time.”

“That’s right. My family home is in Higashi Ward.”

“How wonderful. You’re going to discover so many new aspects of the world from here on out.” She regarded me fondly. “I moved to Itoshima precisely to remember that feeling.”

🍁🍁🍁

KIYONE led me to an event site that had been set up on the beach.

“This is exactly what I saw on TV this morning,” I realized.

“The event starts tomorrow,” she said. “It’s all-hands-on-deck right now.”

The staff were all beautiful women with long, black hair like Kiyone. Wearing matching, scarlet shirts, they were constructing the many stalls for the festival. The squadron of beauties waved to Kiyone, their radiance nearly blinding me.

“Good work out there, Kiyone!” one of them called.

Kiyone had brought pasta for the group. I helped her carry it to the break area.

“Who’s this, Kiyone?” another woman asked. “She has spiritual energy, but she seems human.”

“That’s right!” said Kiyone. “She’s the newbie from Shinozaki’s company!”

Setting down the food, I presented my business card and bowed. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kikui from Ayakashi Career and Moving Services. Thank you for your loyal patronage.”

“Oh, you work for that young fox, huh?” the woman asked.

Her remark startled me somewhat. Actually, how old is Shinozaki? He looks like he’s in his twenties, but you can’t judge an ayakashi by their appearance.

“Are you all hamahime?” I asked.

“Nope. Kiyone’s the only hamahime. The rest of us are iso-onna. Ever heard of us?”

“Well, uh, I did do some last-minute reading.”

Iso-onna were ayakashi that lived in the ocean around Kyushu. And just like Kiyone, they were all as pretty as famous actresses. To encounter their kind on the open sea was dangerous in more ways than one.

“Well, we’re all women of water,” the iso-onna said. “Nice to meet you.”

Quickly and excitedly, the cordial crew of iso-onna laid the various pastas on a long table, and lunch began. They invited me to eat with them as well.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Of course, of course,” the iso-onna chorused.

One dish was thick, chewy noodles in a vibrant tomato sauce. Meanwhile, the fragrant aroma of melted cheese wafted from a second. Each woman received a portion of every pasta.

“Wow,” I said, covering my mouth as I chewed. “This is amazing.”

The women broke into smiles.

“Right?” one asked.

“The restaurant uses fresh vegetables and cheese from Itoshima,” another said. “Not only are the local ingredients delicious, they’re also chock-full of spiritual energy. It’s a real lifesaver.”

Itoshima had built an impressive reputation concerning its cuisine. Although I knew very little about culinary arts, I had seen supermarkets and restaurants advertising a variety of tasty ingredients from the area. That included dairy, eggs, and more. My parents even occasionally drove to Itoshima merely to stock up.

So, the food here is just as delicious and rejuvenating for ayakashi, huh? That makes sense—it’s so good, after all.

The iso-onna had ushered me into their circle so naturally, and the depth of my emotion surprised me. I hadn’t enjoyed lunch that much in a long time.

Afterward, the crew returned to work while Kiyone and I cleared the table.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “I hope their enthusiasm didn’t overwhelm you.”

“Not at all,” I replied. “Good company makes a meal even better. Still, you seem right at home on this beach.”

Kiyone nodded, a smile playing on her lips. “Of course. Shinozaki introduced me to the iso-onna community here. The people and ayakashi of Itoshima have been so kind to me.”

“Do you have any concerns about your life here?”

“Nope. Every day is a blast. You did a little research on hamahime, right?”

“Yes,” I admitted. They were ayakashi that devoured shadows and originated from the Hashitate area of Kaga City in Ishikawa Prefecture.

Kiyone smiled wistfully, staring at the water through the window in the break room. “The kitamaebune—merchant ships—thrived where I lived,” she said, then opened the window to let in the ocean breeze. The high afternoon sun illuminated the sea, stretching to the horizon, with dazzling, white light. “It was a lively port during the peak years of that shipping route. Grand estates lined the settlement near my shore. Whenever I watched those ships fade into the distance, I grew envious, wondering where they were bound.”

The wind caught her black hair, fanning it like unfurling wings.

“Around five years ago, as night fell over the ocean, I remembered my yearning to see the world. That evening, I vowed to leave my home. A friend of mine told me about a certain generous fox, and I’ve been in Shinozaki’s care ever since.”

“Oh, so that’s how you two met.”

“I wanted to live in a new place,” she said, “but I loved watching the sunset over the sea in my homeland. So, to prevent homesickness, I decided to settle in a place where the sun sinks into the water. That’s why I chose to move next to the Sea of Japan. It’s easy to visit home too.”

“Visit home? Do you actually cross the ocean?”

“I’m a hamahime, remember? Swimming is right in my wheelhouse.”

I followed her gaze to the shore and sky. Truthfully, I rarely left Fukuoka and knew nothing about Kiyone’s homeland. As I looked at Keya Beach, my mind turned to the distant waters of Hokuriku.

“Somewhat unrelated,” she said, “but there’s a reason I called you here.”

At that moment, one of the iso-onna previously working to erect the venue approached us. The gorgeous woman appeared a little younger than me and wore beach sandals and that red T-shirt. She also had long, black hair, and even without makeup, her beauty gave me the chills. I recognized her as the iso-onna that had been sitting at the end of the long table during lunch. She held one of the business cards I’d handed to everyone.

As I inclined my head to the newcomer, Kiyone said, “Allow me to introduce you properly. This is Shizuku. She’s an iso-onna that lives in the waters around Keya Beach. She’s still fairly young, only seventy years old. In human terms, that would be about…eighteen, maybe?”

I had no understanding of how ayakashi viewed age, and perhaps Kiyone sensed as much. Thank goodness she’s so insightful.

“Shizuku wants to start saving money to live on her own,” she continued. “But since she’s never lived among humans, I want you to help her find an apartment and a job that suits her.”

So unlike Kiyone, who’d migrated to Itoshima, Shizuku wanted to live elsewhere.

“Shizuku reminds me of my old self,” said Kiyone, smiling at the nervous iso-onna. “So, as her self-appointed older sister, I want to give her a push in the right direction.”

Shizuku bowed awkwardly. “N-Nice to meet you.”

“I-I’m Kikui,” I replied, uncertain. “It’s nice to meet you too. I apologize, but, um, I just started this job and don’t know much about ayakashi. Once I’ve heard a little bit about you, would you mind if I consulted with Shinozaki before advising you?”

Shizuku’s face turned bright red. “Oh, uh, um,” she stammered, seeming even more panicked than me. “I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. M-Maybe this was a bad idea!”

Witnessing our flustered exchange, Kiyone laughed and patted Shizuku on the back. “I knew you would refuse their offer and try to escape once Shinozaki got involved. That’s why I set up this meeting with Kikui! Have a little faith in yourself, why don’tcha?”

“Ugh…” Shizuku peered at me timidly. Despite her hesitance, her eyes radiated an earnest desire. “I’ve, um, never left Keya before. Honestly, I have no idea what sort of job I’m cut out for. Even so…I want to start working and making money.”

I squared my shoulders and pulled out a notebook. We sat, and I gathered as much information as I could. After receiving word from Shinozaki that we could prepare a response by the end of the day, I returned to Tenjin.

Hainuzuka had already left by the time I arrived back. And apparently, Yoru was attending a gathering of cats before going home.

Where is Yoru’s home, exactly? He’s not talking about my bedroom, right?!

So, as dusk approached, Shinozaki alone waited for me at the office. During the train ride home, I’d sent him notes on my conversation with Shizuku.

“I see,” he said, examining the report on his phone. “She wants to find a job that will allow her to live on her own in the city.”

“Sorry about this,” I fretted. “I visited Itoshima to introduce myself but wound up bringing back a new case.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad Shizuku felt comfortable enough to rely on you. She must have found you easy to talk to.” Shinozaki turned to his computer and pulled up several files. I’d already entered Shizuku’s basic data into our system, and he easily found her case profile. “Let’s see,” he said. “She wants to live by herself in the city and has no specific career preference. Since this will be her first job in human society, an employer that welcomes inexperienced workers is ideal. Does that sum things up?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Additionally, she would much rather work in an all-women environment. Any job that requires interaction with lots of unfamiliar men is off the table. Why is that, do you think?”

“Because sea-dwelling, female ayakashi unconsciously seduce human men. Iso-onna from the Sea of Japan and Western sirens eat them.”

“Yikes! W-Will you be okay?!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a human?”

“I guess not.”

“There’s your answer.”

Shinozaki clicked the “Print” icon. Before long, a few job listings slid onto the output tray. “We should be able to find a role that fits her preferences,” he said. “Let’s set a date for her to tour a few job sites.”

“Isn’t that a little fast? She doesn’t have any experience living among humans.”

“That’s precisely why we need to act now. Her lack of any specific preference indicates an inability to form a clear vision for her future. A casual tour of the area will help her visualize life in the city in better detail.”

“Oh, good point.”

I had almost no experience diving into an unfamiliar environment. Although I struggled to conceive its true magnitude, the difference between the life of a city dweller and that of a mermaid had to be immense. I could think of nothing kinder than his suggestion.

We texted Shizuku and received an immediate response. She could come the following day. My heart raced with excitement at the prospect of my first real assignment. I must have been tensing my face unconsciously, because Shinozaki clapped me on the shoulder.

“I’ll go with you tomorrow,” he promised. “I won’t butt in, so handle the job however you like.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Just then, a pleasant scent tickled my nose. I looked up at Shinozaki, scrutinizing his face.

His beautiful eyes blinked back at me. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. You just smell nice.”

“Sexually harassing your boss?”

“Absolutely not!” I cried. “I’m so sorry!”

Shinozaki shrugged, his eyes twinkling. “Only joking.”

I averted my eyes from his unexpected smile. He kissed me not too long ago. In this very office…

“What’s wrong?” he queried again.

“Eeek!”

“Holy overreaction. What just happened? You suddenly zoned out.”

“Well, um, you see… No, never mind.”

He leveled a searching gaze at me. Based on his mischievously narrowed eyes, he’d deduced the reason. Something in my expression must have tipped him off. “Kaede.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Is there something you want?”

“Huh?”

“You’re helpless,” he teased, flicking his tail in my direction. “You want to pet my ‘floof,’ right? Go ahead.”

“…Is that what you got from my expression?”

“Did I misread something?”

“No, no, not at all,” I said. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

I spread my hands and sunk all ten fingers into his soft tail. My eyes widened in astonishment. “Wh-Whoa. Your tail looks like a Shiba Inu’s but several times bigger, and its sheer fluffiness…is on a whole different level. Wow. I can’t believe this.”

After stroking his tail backward, I smoothed it down again. I became completely engrossed, losing track of time to the delightful sensation. Shinozaki’s occasional, ticklish spasms couldn’t have been more endearing.

“Ugh,” he groaned, and a loud thud rang out. He’d slumped over the desk, gripping the edges for dear life. His shoulders rising with each breath, he twisted to glare at me. “Are you done yet?” he grumbled.

“Th-Thank you!” I squealed. “That was amazing!”

“Well… I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” He pulled his tail from my grasp with a swish, then began to hand-comb his ruffled fur in an aggrievement. I, meanwhile, felt wholly refreshed by the experience.

“If you’re done, let’s head out,” he said. Wobbling away from the desk, his ears drooping, he closed the sliding window. I started to tidy up as well.

🍁🍁🍁

THE next day, Shinozaki and I parked near Akasaka Station to meet with Shizuku. She’d transferred from the Chikuhi Line to the subway to reach Tenjin, the reverse of the route I’d taken to visit Itoshima.

“Thank you for helping me today,” she said with a bow. She was wearing glasses, a mask, and a hat that completely covered her hair.

“Pretty elaborate disguise,” I noted. She and I sat in the back seat while Shinozaki drove.

“Iso-onna have to consciously suppress their spiritual energy,” he said. “Otherwise, they unwittingly seduce human men.”

Shizuku nodded. “The other iso-onna are good at controlling their spiritual energy because they’re used to people. But I’ve hardly ever left the sea. Do you think I’ll be okay?”

“You’ll be fine,” I assured her. “I looked into several jobs for you yesterday. Women-dominated workplaces, positions that don’t require you to go outside or deal with crowds, depending on your shift.”

I handed her a printout of options that met her requirements. I also showed her my tablet. The screen displayed job listings and photos of their worksites that captured their atmosphere. Shizuku absorbed every detail of information, her gaze focused.

“Does anything here appeal to you?” I asked.

“Let’s see…” She pointed to the call center. “I would probably feel more at ease in a place with fewer men.”

The call center had a relaxed dress code. The ability to wear whatever she felt most comfortable in would prevent her from unintentionally standing out. And though the job had a three-month trial period, she could live in company-leased housing for the time being. It seemed like a perfect fit for someone who wanted to live on her own.

“Well then, let’s drop by the call center first!” I decided. “We can visit places with similar conditions as well.”

I mapped a route on the tablet that prioritized several of those she had shown an interest in. Then I handed it to Shinozaki as he smoothly merged onto the highway.

We toured many workplaces. Yet none of them had quite what she was looking for. Essentially, she couldn’t imagine building a life in any of them.

Shizuku had plenty of skills that would make her an immediate asset. She could perform general office work because she knew how to operate computers and smartphones. Given her familiarity with modern society, she could choose any job geared toward ayakashi.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t find one that felt right for her.

“I’ll take any job,” she said, “so long as I can live alone, easily visit the city, and earn a decent wage.” In other words, anything and anywhere would do.

Those conditions make it difficult to recommend a possible choice. Well, it’s not like we have to decide today. Still…

Would she truly be happy with anything? For some reason, I didn’t think so.

After visiting a company on Kirameki Street, we headed to Fukuoka Tenjin Station for a bit of sightseeing. A curry restaurant in the underground mall intrigued Shizuku, so we ate there for lunch. The food was quite tasty and unique, the establishment part of a chain specializing in curry. The long-grain rice and soupy sauce really hit the spot.

“Wait, did you want to work at this curry restaurant?” I guessed.

“Not particularly…” answered Shizuku.

Her eyes darted around as we ate. After the meal, she stepped away from the table for a moment.

“Kaede,” said Shinozaki while we waited for her to return.

“Yes?”

“You look like you have something on your mind.”

“Yeah, kind of…”

“Spill it,” he urged.

“Honestly, I feel like she’s hiding something, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Oh?”

“D-Did I say something weird?”

“No, keep going.”

“All right.” I nodded. “Leaping into an unfamiliar environment takes courage. Shizuku must have a reason for moving, right? But it seems like she can’t admit this reason to the other ayakashi in Keya. And even with just the two of us here, she’s still keeping her motivation a secret. She doesn’t want to work anywhere in particular. What’s more, she doesn’t seem to have come to Tenjin just for fun… Oh, sorry. I’m rambling.” A blush crept up my cheeks.

Shinozaki shook his head. “I told you to keep going,” he said. “Besides, I’m a fox that’s lived for centuries. You have a much better sense of what she’s feeling than I do. I’m glad you’re giving it careful consideration.”

“Wait,” I said. “You think I have a better sense of what she’s feeling?”

“She’s seventy years old, right? That’s still within a normal human lifespan.”

“Well, yeah, I suppose that makes sense.”

Abruptly, I noticed how long Shizuku had been gone. “Speaking of which,” I said, “shouldn’t she be back by now?”

“Yeah, it’s been a minute,” agreed Shinozaki.

Realization dawned on me as he and I exchanged glances. According to Shizuku, she didn’t care where she worked or what she did. Yet she’d singled out the curry restaurant. Until then, she hadn’t made any decisions of her own. She’d chosen the restaurant for some other reason than wanting to work there. And a little while later, she’d excused herself from the table—another instance of volition.

The look in Shinozaki’s eyes told me I was right.

“I’m going to check on her,” I said.

“You’ve got this,” he replied.

Leaving the restaurant, I checked everywhere, including the restroom and powder room. I couldn’t find Shizuku anywhere. “What should I do?” I mumbled. “She isn’t lost, right?”

She might’ve gone to a different floor. I exited the underground and scanned the crowd of people on the surface. “Shizuku!” I called, my heart thumping. “Shizuku!”

Finally, I spotted a woman standing beneath Fukuoka Tenjin Station’s giant digital display, staring at the screen in a daze. She wore glasses, a lowered mask, and a large hat.

“Oh, Shizuku, there you are!” I cried, dashing over to her.

Her expression startled me: her eyes were glued to the artist performing on the display as her lips moved silently and in sync with the lyrics.

I followed her gaze, peering up at the screen. The young man in the music video wore baggy streetwear. He had long, angular, and delicate limbs. His undercut was dyed neon.

I recognized him. “Jellysh…”

Jellysh—stylized as Jellyθ—had recently debuted on a major record label. His videos were blowing up on streaming sites due to the undeniable charm of his sweet yet hoarse voice.

“I can’t believe it,” Shizuku murmured. Her voice trembled with emotion. “Jellysh is popular enough to appear on such a big screen.” She removed her glasses, revealing watery eyes. She sang under her breath, not missing a single line from his new song.

“I see…” I mumbled to myself. “So that’s what was going on.”

Why was an introvert like Shizuku so determined to leave home and find work? Why wasn’t she able to admit her reason for working to her community? For that matter, why her insistence on living alone when that community was within commuting distance of Fukuoka? And why had she suddenly needed money?

She’d been skirting the issue, yet my intuition had led me to the answer.

“Shizuku,” I said when Jellysh disappeared from the screen.

“Ah!” she yelped. “Oh, um, I’m sorry. I got lost, and…”

“He’s your favorite, isn’t he?”

Shizuku’s striking, dark eyes widened in shock. “You can tell?” Her pale fingers gripped my hand. Her black hair, no longer crammed beneath her hat, fanned out in apparent excitement, and her face shone with joy. With her glasses and mask removed, not even a lack of makeup could diminish her breathtaking beauty.

“I love Jellysh!” she cried. “With all my heart! When I first heard him singing at a music festival in Keya, I burst out of the sea and literally screamed in delight!”

Shizuku’s enthusiasm was starting to turn heads in the vicinity.

“Can you dial it back a bit?” I teased. “We’re drawing a lot of attention.”

“Oh, um, sorry. I couldn’t help myself. That was my first time seeing the advertisement for his new song.”

I giggled. “I know exactly how you feel. Let’s go somewhere else, and you can tell me all about it.”

I was trying to lead a blushing Shizuku back to the curry shop when I noticed something strange about the crowd. An abnormal number of men were staring at us. Their hollow eyes reminded me of people under hypnosis.

“Don’t tell me…” I murmured.

Iso-onna. Ayakashi who seduced men and drank their blood. Creatures with long, black hair that could extend as if possessed of its own will.

“You’re losing control of your spiritual energy!” I realized.

“Huh?” responded Shizuku. “Oh!” She shoved her hat back on her head.

But once unleashed, the spiritual energy radiating from her beautiful face and hair drew man after man toward us.

This is bad.

I recalled something Shinozaki had told me when we first met.

“Ayakashi are exposed through idle gossip,” he’d said. “Eventually, enough dots connect to form an urban legend, giving rise to rumors of the supernatural. When that happens, professionals in that line of work are able to uncover misbehaving ayakashi. For example, a nekomata conducting an illegal business in front of Tenjin Station.”

The way the situation was headed, Shizuku was going to break the rules. She would probably lose the ability to find a job. “What should I do?” I mumbled.

Although Shizuku hid her face and hair, men continued to gather around her.

What can I do? No, it’s not an issue of can or can’t! I have to do something!

At that moment, I spotted fox ears amid the rabble of men.

“Kaede!” shouted Shinozaki. “Are you okay?!”

“Shinozaki!”

I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him. Given his height, Shinozaki’s head and ears rose over the throng of people.

I’ll be okay. Even if worse comes to worst, Shinozaki’s here. I need to focus on stopping Shizuku’s spiritual ener—

“Oh,” I whispered. Shinozaki had once absorbed my spiritual energy.

That’s right. I can just copy what he did.

“Shizuku!” I yelled.

“Huh?” she said, panicked.

No time like the present. I grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes shut as she braced herself for whatever might come next.

“Sorry about this!” I cried. “But I don’t have any other choice!” And I pressed my lips against hers.

Don’t get any funny ideas! This is no different than CPR!

“Mmm?!” Shizuku’s muffled scream caught in her throat.

I have no idea how to absorb her energy, but maybe I can force it to work!

As I mashed our lips together, I recalled the sensation of Shinozaki siphoning my energy. Power welled within my body, and in an instant, I began to black out.

Gentle arms caught my fall.

And perhaps it was my imagination, but I thought I heard Shinozaki’s exasperated voice from somewhere far away.

“You absolute idiot.”

🍁🍁🍁

KAEDE, Shizuku, and I—Rai Shinozaki—returned to the third-floor reception room of my office. My iso-onna client, Shizuku, sat on the sofa across from me. With concern in her eyes, she watched Kaede, who lay on the couch at the back of the room.

I had resumed interviewing Shizuku. I proceeded down the checklist, my laptop open in front of her.

“Will she be okay?” asked Shizuku. The iso-onna was clutching a glass of iced coffee. A house roast from the first-floor café.

I shrugged. “It shouldn’t be a problem,” I answered with a smile. “Kaede has a high resistance to spiritual energy. So much so that hers was leaking before you met. She’ll wake up in a little while.”

“If you say so…”

The sound of my typing filled the office as dying sunlight streamed through the windows.

Shizuku stared at my hands for a time, then asked, “So, um, did Kikui—Kaede— mention my reason for wanting a job?”

Glancing up, I found the young iso-onna fidgeting restlessly, her face a bright red.

“I couldn’t tell anyone in my community about it,” she said. “It’s embarrassing, right? An iso-onna, especially one my age, obsessed with a human man.”

I flashed my best customer-service smile. “Iso-onna are sea-dwelling ayakashi with an ear for music, no? If the performance of a human—and a young one at that—genuinely moved you, isn’t that a good thing?”

“You think so?”

“Seventy-year-old women in the human realm often regain vitality by watching young men perform. It can be music, sports, anything.”

“It’s that common?”

“Indeed. It’s quite normal.”

“Normal, huh…?” Shizuku repeated the word as if savoring it. She quietly drained the rest of her coffee before admitting, “I’ve always been afraid of change. Keya Beach was always so serene. Once it became known as Itoshima in the human realm, all kinds of new things started happening. The flow of people changed, the music festival started, and so on. It’s so lively now. Even my fellow iso-onna have begun holding events with humans. Yet until recently…we only ever ate them.”

I pretended not to hear that last part, maintaining my smile.

“Even though I’m still young, I couldn’t keep up with so much change,” she complained. “But ever since I found Jellysh…” Her eyes lit up the moment she uttered the name.

“The world is changing, and I found the courage to change as well and support him,” Shizuku said. “I’ve become a lot more optimistic. So I decided to leave the sea for now. If I work in Fukuoka, visiting Itoshima from Hakata Bay won’t be difficult. Plus, I can always go back to my community if I ever get lonely.”

“I think that’s wonderful.”

Her eyes sparkled. Her enthusiasm for her new life, and passion for her idol, dazzled me.

Over four hundred years had passed since I came into existence on the Near Shore as a kitsune. Fifty years later, I began to help other ayakashi. To see an ayakashi so full of hope for life on the Near Shore was deeply fulfilling, even after decades, centuries. Some ayakashi still found meaning there, no matter how inhospitable the modern age had become.

So long as I could be of service to other ayakashi, I felt I was permitted to stay as well.

“By the way,” said Shizuku. Her expression was serious, and her irises red, betraying a hint of her true nature.

I raised one eyebrow and feigned composure. “Yes?”

“Who is Kaede really?”

“She’s an employee of my company.”

“No,” Shizuku said, “I’m talking about her soul.”

I didn’t answer. Shizuku studied me, her eyes gleaming scarlet, her gaze that of an iso-onna, not a timid young lady.

“She’s strange, isn’t she?” pressed Shizuku. “She attempted to absorb my spiritual energy with no actual plan and somehow succeeded. Then just passes out? Not to mention those lips…”

Shizuku leaned over the table, at last dropping her human guise. Her slender legs flickered in and out of existence, and her elongated hair started to writhe like black octopus tentacles. Such was the real form of an iso-onna: an ayakashi that ensnared men and dragged them into the sea.

“She tasted like fox,” she said, licking her red lips as she recalled Kaede’s flavor. “Like you.”

“Kikui is my employee. Nothing more.”

“Is that so?”

“It is,” I said, brushing off her comment with a smile. “We haven’t formed a master-servant contract or anything of the sort.”

“I see…” murmured Shizuku, relaxing into the sofa once more. “Well, if you say so, I’ll take your word for it.” Her legs and hair regained their human shape. Her eyes recovered their blackish, melancholy color as well.

A tinge of embarrassment clouded her countenance. “I heard a rumor a long time ago,” she mumbled, twisting a strand of hair around a finger. “The Lost Fox of Tenjin, Shinozaki, possessed enough spiritual energy to become a divine messenger of Inari Ōkami. Yet he never left Tenjin because—”

“Oh no, oh no, oh no! I fell asleep!”

An exclamation dimwitted enough to drain the tension from my body echoed from the sofa behind us. Swiveling, I found Kaede looking around the office in panic. Her face was pale, and sweat dappled her forehead.

“Oh no,” she repeated. “I tried to take Shizuku’s spiritual energy in Tenjin, and then… Wait, it’s evening? Huh? Where am I?”

“Calm down,” I said. I unscrewed the cap of a water bottle I’d prepared in advance and handed it to her. I gestured with my chin for her to drink. “You’re back at the office. I took over the job and finished it.”

Gasping, Kaede wiped her mouth, shot to her feet, and bowed deeply to Shizuku. “Oh, m-my apologies,” she bleated. “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.”

Shizuku stood, then bowed just as low. “No, I’m the one who should apologize,” she said. “I’m sorry for getting overexcited and making such a careless mistake. I’m only here because you absorbed my spiritual energy and Shinozaki dealt with the aftermath.”

I responded with my usual smile. “Our previous conversation is over,” it warned.

Shizuku seemed to understand. Turning back to Kaede, she dabbed the human woman’s forehead with a handkerchief. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Good!” said Kaede. “Actually, I feel pretty refreshed!”

“Well, yeah, a three-hour nap will do that,” I interjected.

“A nap? Ack, you’re right! Look at the time!”

Shizuku turned to me. “She seems quite well, doesn’t she?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, that’s Kaede for you.”

“Excuse me, Kikui, but I need to head home soon,” Shizuku said.

“Oh!” cried Kaede. “At least let me see you off!”

“Wait,” I said, “wipe the drool off your face first.”

“Gah!”

Shizuku watched Kaede fondly as the latter pulled out a hand mirror and patted her mouth.

“Please excuse my overenergetic employee,” I intoned.

“It’s perfectly fine,” replied Shizuku. “I’ve had so much fun with Kikui. If she continues to oversee my case, that will give me some peace of mind.” Her expression shifted, and she whispered, so softly that only I could hear her, “A reborn soul becomes a different person. Unlike ayakashi, humans can’t inherit the memories of their former selves. Their souls are too frail.”

The light of the setting sun through the window illuminated the iso-onna.

“You probably knew that,” she said, “but please don’t torment yourself.”

I responded with another smile. “Thank you for your concern.”

After all, I’ve been telling myself that for four hundred years.

🍁🍁🍁

WHEN I returned from seeing off Shizuku, I still felt abnormally refreshed.

After absorbing Shizuku’s spiritual energy, I’d feared that Shinozaki would have to siphon mine again. Yet to my surprise, I could just go home.

“Don’t worry,” he’d said. “You haven’t accumulated much spiritual energy since your first day in the office. It’s strong, sure, but you’re a complete amateur. Someone of your caliber couldn’t absorb that much energy with one halfhearted little kiss.”

I furrowed my brow. “Oh, is that how it works?”

“What’s this?” he asked with a sly smile. “Did you want me to kiss you?”

“I’m heading out now! Good work today!”

I punched my timecard at the speed of sound and sprinted to Imaizumi until I was out of breath. By the time I reached the underground mall, I was puffing for air.

“I-It’s not like that,” I muttered. “I definitely didn’t want him to kiss me or anything…”

Shaking off my bewilderment, I visited the drug and hundred-yen stores to pick up some necessities.

When I climbed the stairs to the surface again, a purple night sky floated overhead. Below, the streets teemed with people on their way home or heading to bars. I could already spot students preparing for a fun night in Kego Park.

In the past, crowds always nauseated me. I couldn’t have known that my spiritual energy had been influencing that dislike; my intuition had been too sharp in more ways than one: ever since Shinozaki had absorbed my spiritual energy, they hadn’t fazed me.

“I had to push myself way too hard, huh?” I murmured.

Waiting for the crosswalk light to change, I checked what seemed like every post and comment on social media. To my great relief, no strange stories concerning the incident in front of Tenjin Station were circulating.

“Breaking News: Bizarre Spectacle in Broad Daylight! Mysterious, Black-Haired Beauty Turns Crowd of Men into Zombies!”

If that had made the headlines, it would have caused an enormous amount of trouble for ayakashi in Fukuoka Tenjin.

“Oh—looks like there was a sudden downpour around noon.” Instead, I found reports of a large shower sweeping through Tenjin. The sidewalk was still damp, I noticed.

Rain. And a commotion that humans conveniently forgot.

“Could this be Shinozaki’s doing?” I mumbled.

“Mrrrow,” came a soft meow from behind me.

Jolting, I dropped my phone, and Yoru caught it before it hit the ground. Though he wore a suit that seemed a bit stifling for the beginning of summer, he appeared entirely unruffled.

“Whoa, you startled me… Are you heading home too? Good work today.”

Instead of answering, Yoru glanced at the sky and sniffed the air. “The rain stinks of fox,” he said. “I think President Shinozaki caused it.”

“You can tell? That’s amazing.”

“Hard to miss his stench. It reeks.”

“Are you two at odds with each other, by chance?” I asked.

“Not particularly.”

Shinozaki had mentioned something about his abilities during my onboarding. Apparently, he could manipulate the memories of people within a fixed radius by triggering an abrupt rainstorm.

In Japanese, sun showers were called “a fox’s wedding.” According to Shinozaki, kitsune often caused unexpected bursts of rain.

“So,” I said, “that’s why no one’s written about the incident on social media.”

The crosswalk signal turned green. Side by side, Yoru and I headed toward the station, leaving the tumult of the city behind us.

Yoru was an attractive man. Unlike Shinozaki, however, he didn’t command attention. Few people noticed him despite his slender frame and classically handsome Japanese face. He was neither too tall nor too short. Overall, he possessed an understated charm that most wouldn’t recognize at a glance. Those who did notice him, though, stared at him in disbelief, doing double, triple, or even quadruple takes.

In all likelihood, few people could see the upraised, two-pronged tail protruding from the center vent of his suit. Or the cat ears atop his head, for that matter.

“Checking my reflection has gotten pretty depressing lately,” I grumbled. “Surrounded by all these gorgeous people.”

Silent up to that point, Yoru finally opened his mouth. “Lady Kaede,” he said.

“Hm? What is it?”

His usually impassive expression transformed into a slight grimace as he regarded me. Then—

BLEP!

“Yoru!” I exclaimed as he licked my cheek. “What the heck are you doing?! You’re not a cat right now!”

“But I am a cat,” he replied.

We were starting to draw sporadic glances, so I dragged him into an alleyway. “Listen here, Yoru, you look like an incredibly handsome man right now. You can’t just lick my face in public.”

“But humans are always so happy when I lick them.”

“That’s because you’re an adorable cat! Adult men don’t go around licking people, no matter how gorgeous they are!”

“But…” His tails flicked in irritation. “Your spiritual energy smells like fish.”

“Fish?” I repeated in horror, pressing a hand to my lips. “Oh, is it because I absorbed Shizuku’s spiritual energy?”

Yoru furrowed his brow. “Lady Kaede.”

“Oh, um, yes?”

“You’re absorbing energy from other ayakashi when you already have me as a familiar?”

“No, it was just an emergency,” I reassured him. “I had to do it for work.”

“You smell like fox too.”

“Wha—”

“Outrageous,” he said, leaning in and sniffing me loudly. “President Shinozaki must have marked you without my knowledge.”

I shuddered at the idea of Shinozaki’s kiss and neck bite leaving a scent. “So, um, you can tell? As a fellow ayakashi?”

“Sure can.”

“Yikes.”

“You,” Yoru said, “need to consider your role as my owner more carefully.”

“Um, right. Sorry, I guess?”

He jutted his head obstinately, and with a sigh of resignation, I began to stroke his black hair. His ears flattened, and a low purr rumbled in his throat.

“Can I stop yet?” I asked.

“Just a little longer.”

“Let’s continue this when we get home. Petting a grown man’s head, even in semiprivate, feels…weird. Plus, it’ll feel better when you’re a cat! Right?”

“Sure.” Securing that promise of future scritches, Yoru finally stepped back.

I sighed in relief. I had no problem spoiling him in his cat form. After all, who didn’t love petting a cute little furball? But maintenance of a safe mental distance from thoughts of his human form required significant effort.

“Scritches, huh?” I mumbled, staring at my palm. Was my desire to pet Shinozaki’s tail similar?

No, it feels different somehow.

What was the fluttering in my stomach I felt around Shinozaki?

“Lady Kaede?” questioned Yoru.

“It’s nothing,” I replied. “Let’s go.”

My emotions surrounding Shinozaki and Yoru were different. For instance, I never could have lived with Shinozaki, regardless of whether he transformed into a fox. Yet for some reason, cohabitation with Yoru didn’t bother me. Perhaps because Yoru viewed me as his owner…? Similarly, I thought of him as a cat even when he assumed his human form.

“But in that case…” I muttered.

How do I view Shinozaki? As my boss?

To an extent, yes, but our relationship wasn’t merely one of employer and employee.

As an animal who marked me?

Definitely not. Shinozaki was a kind man in spite of his startling behavior.

As we walked, I reflected on each of my encounters with him, examining my emotions one by one.

The sound of his voice when he saved me from Yoru in Ōhori Park had flooded me with relief. That he saw the drool on my face after I fell asleep embarrassed me. Whenever I looked in the mirror, I remembered his kiss. And motivation surged within me with his every glance at work.

“Oh,” I said, events from earlier that day replaying in my mind. “I’m no different from Shizuku fangirling over Jellysh.”

“Lady Kaede?”

“It’s nothing! Nothing at all! Let’s hurry home and get some dinner, okay?”

“Mrow.”

My favorite, huh?

Satisfaction swelled within me as I found a word that fit.

Yeah, Shinozaki’s my new fave.

His smile brought me joy and pushed me to excel at work. My heart thrilled with excitement whenever I learned something new about him—that having his tail stroked made him weak in the knees, for example, or that he struggled to eat spicy curry.

Everyone needed encouragement to overcome the difficulties of starting a new life. My boss himself had provided that inspiration for me. Could I have been any luckier?

All right! Time to girlboss and support my fave!

🍁🍁🍁

FROM afar, a woman observed Kaede Kikui’s odd behavior. She watched Yoru—an adult man—lick Kaede’s cheek. She saw Kaede respond by patting his head.

But Kaede didn’t notice the woman’s attention.

🍁🍁🍁

A shapeshifting fox raced across Chikushino.

His master had once belonged to a group of wandering miko, until the war in Hakata left the shrine maiden orphaned. Let us call her Priestess Kitsune.

Dōsetsu Bekki—castellan of Tachibanayama Castle, which safeguarded Chikuzen—adopted Priestess Kitsune for her prodigious spiritual energy. As an ardent worshipper of Inari Ōkami and Dakiniten, Dōsetsu excelled at commanding kitsune on the battlefield. He trained Priestess Kitsune to protect his only daughter, Lady Ginchiyo, as a fox handler and handmaiden.

Priestess Kitsune, who was a little older than Ginchiyo, became a magnificent fox handler. When Ginchiyo inherited Tachibanayama Castle, Priestess Kitsune vowed to serve the lady castellan for the rest of her life.

And so, the shapeshifting fox raced across Chikushino. He was the sole kitsune who’d formed a master-servant relationship with Priestess Kitsune during her youth. The two of them had grown up as close as siblings, transcending their contractual bond.

Numerous kitsune attended Ginchiyo. In time, they would become the fabled messengers of Inari Ōkami. Yet no tales of Priestess Kitsune or her fox persisted in the Tachibana clan’s legends of the deity.

Why? But for a simple fact: the fox was a young male.

During the Tenshō era, Toyotomi Hideyoshi conquered Kyushu. As a result, the Tachibana clan was forcibly relocated to the far south. After Ginchiyo conceded the position of castellan to her husband, Muneshige, the couple moved to Yanagawa Castle near the city of Chikugo. At first, they lived under the same roof. Yet the immense spiritual energy that Ginchiyo had additionally inherited from her father gave rise to new problems.

The famously impregnable Yanagawa Castle had been built by the storied Kamachi clan. Bolstering its unassailable architecture was an ancient barrier of spiritual energy. When the castle’s governorship passed from the Kamachi to the Ryūzōji clan, Ryūzōji sorcerers reinforced the barrier for battle.

How impenetrable, precisely? Not even Ginchiyo’s father, the warlord Dōsetsu Bekki, had successfully captured the stronghold. In fact, a barricade specifically intended to thwart Dōsetsu had been erected around the castle. That it could affect his daughter should have been clear to anyone.

After moving into Yanagawa Castle, Ginchiyo grew increasingly fatigued. Her appetite waned with each passing day, and anxiety over Muneshige’s participation in the Imjin War gnawed at her further. Eventually, she moved to Miyanaga Village south of the castle in hopes of improving her health.

A handsome, male kitsune lived on the same estate as Ginchiyo. Aside from him, only women resided in the manor, so his presence raised more than a few eyebrows. The fox cherished Ginchiyo, but his feelings were no more than a fierce loyalty to and deep respect for the lady castellan he’d served since his youth.

Ginchiyo had borne no children with Muneshige, who, along with his retinue, had joined the Tachibana clan when they married. She needed an heir to unite the old retainers from her father’s generation and the newcomers accompanying Muneshige. Yet, inexplicably, she never conceived.

Muneshige had been born to loving parents and was passionate nearly to a fault. No one could imagine that he and Ginchiyo struggled. Unfortunately, however, Muneshige was frequently absent due to his role in the Imjin War, and the prospect of their long-awaited child grew more and more dire.

What’s more, Ginchiyo had left the castle and moved into a newly built manor. She also retained an attractive male fox as a close servant. Under such circumstances, what else could the people whisper about Ginchiyo and Muneshige?

🍁🍁🍁

GOLD-BROWN ears of rice swayed in the autumn wind beneath the azure sky. The kitsune had finally decided to leave Yanagawa Castle to protect his lady’s reputation. As he admired the rice, the grains the same radiant color as his ears and tail, a lone woman approached him.

The woman, dressed in a plain yet neat short-sleeved kimono, was Priestess Kitsune—the fox’s master and Ginchiyo’s handmaiden, in other words.

“Thank you for coming,” the fox said.

“Shino…” the priestess replied. She already knew what he would say. Pain seeped from her eyes and furrowed brow.

“I’m going back to Chikuzen…to Hakata,” the fox said.

The priestess’s voice caught in her throat.

“I don’t want to cause Lady Ginchiyo any more trouble,” continued the kitsune.

“No, of course you don’t…”

“If I asked…” the fox began, his gaze boring into her, “would you come with me?”

The priestess’s eyes widened, glistening with tears.

“If you ask Her Ladyship for permission to resign, we can return to Hakata together,” the fox said. “We can start a business and live as a human couple…” His lips drew into a tight line as he finished speaking. Clenching his sweaty hands into fists, he waited motionlessly for the woman he loved to respond.

The pair were lovers as well as master and servant. Everyone who knew them praised them as the perfect couple. They had long since transcended the roles of priestess and her kitsune. By then, even Ginchiyo had given their relationship her tacit approval, watching over them fondly.

“I’m sorry, Shino.” The priestess didn’t answer until the setting sun had slightly dimmed. “I don’t want us to go our separate ways. I want to be a couple. But I also want to stay with Lady Ginchiyo until she can laugh again. I must repay my debt to the Tachibana clan for taking me in and raising me.”

“I can no longer live with you here,” the fox said. “Yet you’re choosing to remain?”

“I know how that sounds,” the priestess replied, biting her lip and pressing a hand to her chest in anguish. “I know how that sounds, but…”

The fox deeply regretted his words upon seeing her agony. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. “I understand,” he said. “Lady Ginchiyo is in a delicate position. She was forced to abandon the castle filled with memories of her father. Now her husband has gone to war. I can’t steal Her Ladyship’s handmaiden and childhood friend on top of everything else.”

“I’m sorry,” the priestess said. “I’m truly sorry, Shino.”

“Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have asked you to leave in the first place.” He wagged his tail with a gracious smile, ignoring the ache in his chest. “Regardless, I’m going home. War has left deep scars on Hakata. There are countless people there undergoing the same suffering you experienced as a child. I want to make a new life rescuing and taking care of them.”

“Shino…”

“If you continue to watch over Lady Ginchiyo, I can return to Hakata free of worry. Please don’t cry.” The fox forced himself to keep smiling, resisting the urge to wipe the tears from his beloved’s eyes. He burned the image of her face, illuminated by the last rays of sunset, into his mind.

“So, Shino,” the priestess said eventually, “how about this?”

“Yes?”

“Hypothetically, if Lady Ginchiyo recovers, has a child, regains the ability to smile like she used to…I’d like to visit you in Hakata. I don’t know how much older I’ll be by then, but… Even if we can’t be a couple, will you still want to see me?”

“Of course,” the kitsune said, every hair on his body standing on end with joy. “Did you even have to ask?” He would wait for decades if they could be together again someday.

“But I’m human,” the priestess said. “I’ll get old and wrinkly…”

“Don’t be stupid. I’m a fox who can distinguish people based on their souls. You’ll always look like yourself to me, no matter how ancient or hunched you become.”

The priestess lifted her head, a smile lighting up her adorable face. “Thank you.”

Unable to stop himself, the fox darted to her side and embraced her with all his might. She smelled like fresh laundry drying in the sun after a hard day of labor. Starting that night, everything about her would become a thing of the past. Her soft body. Her dusty cheeks. Her splintered fingernails stained the color of grass. The strong scent of medicinal herbs that had bled into her hair.

Shino closed his eyes and hugged her tighter, etching the shape of her soul into his body. He seared it deeper into his memory than the sigil of their master-servant bond. He would find refuge there for however many years they were apart.

“When this is all over,” he said, “let’s become husband and wife.”

He felt the priestess nod, her face still pressed against his chest. Warmth trickled into the sleeves of his kimono, her deluge of tears staining the fabric.

Nonetheless, Shino was happy. “I’ll wait for you forever,” he vowed. “No matter how old you become, I’ll wait for you until the day you come home with a joyful smile.”

Chapter 3: Nakasu, the Night of Nekomata, and a Search for Belonging

Chapter 3: Nakasu, the Night of Nekomata, and a Search for Belonging

CHIKUZEN Clear Office Equipment found themselves in dire straits after Kaede Kikui’s resignation. The president had intentionally sold off his clients’ personal information. What’s more, the leased equipment was counterfeit. Customer complaints poured in one after another. The human employees, who knew nothing of the truth, were still subject to multiple police interrogations. Abruptly thrown into inexplicable disarray, they suffered the worst of the fallout.

Though there was one silver lining. Their databases and client files were orderly and easy to use. Someone had done a thorough job of data management. Surprisingly critical information had been organized to be readily understood, including lists of gifts given to each client company, records of customer service responses, and notes about best points of contact. It even included clients’ favorite foods, jotted down during visits to their companies or conversations over the phone.

Everyone knew that had been the sole work of Kaede Kikui.

“When the president hired an office clerk as a full-time employee, I thought she had to be his mistress,” one man said. “Turns out she was doing a bang-up job.”

Businesses often hired administrative staff as contractors or part-timers. That was especially true of small companies like Chikuzen Clear. Kaede, however, was hired full-time with merely a high school diploma. And a few more eyebrows rose when the company president began to lavish her with attention. Eventually, rumors of an affair started to circulate, leading to her ostracization in the office—and stoking the envy of a female senior employee.

That said, Kaede had been diligent and dedicated. Given how little time she’d had to train her replacement, she must have been incredibly meticulous in preparing for her departure.

On break, a certain man cracked the tab of his canned coffee. “I knew it all along,” he said, “but Kikui wasn’t such a bad gal, after all.”

“You’re saying that now?” another man responded.

“A cute face can spread weird rumors, I s’pose.”

“Yeah, I guess being hot doesn’t necessarily make life any easier.”

“Still, if she got by here, she’ll do well wherever she goes.”

“I’ll have to apologize to her if we ever cross paths again.”

The two men sighed, their eyes falling on a desk close to Kaede’s former workspace. The desk had belonged to Keiko Nieshima, the aforementioned senior employee who’d never missed a chance to needle Kaede.

“On the other hand, Nieshima just up and quit,” the first man said. “Like she was abandoning ship.”

“At the very least, couldn’t she have taken care of her work before leaving?” complained the second man. “Selfish as hell right to the bitter end.”

“Wasn’t she some rich girl? She probably had another offer.”

“A rich girl, eh?”

As they spoke, the two men discreetly thumbed through job listings on their phones.

🍁🍁🍁

THE sky darkened as night fell over the office district near Nakasu. A lone woman—Keiko Nieshima—stalked down the street, her high heels clicking sharply with each step. Just minutes before, her father had called her, and Keiko bristled with irritation as she closed her eyes, recalling their heated conversation.

“What were you thinking?” her father had asked. “I entrusted this undercover investigation to you because you were so insistent.”

“I did infiltrate the company, thank you very much!” she’d shouted in response. “The target self-destructed on his own.”

“Don’t be absurd. You hardly contacted me during the five years you were undercover, and in the end, the Fukuoka prefectural police arrested the suspect before we did.”

“But—”

“No excuses. It’s tradition for our family to leave the island to become full-fledged exorcists.”

“I can still prove myself! My little sister is still living with the head family, right? I’m already looking for my next job. Talk to you later.”

“Hey—”

With a crackle of static, she’d hung up and shoved her phone into the bottom of her bag.

“Don’t give me that nonsense,” Keiko spat. “I’m not the sort of woman who’s going to waste her potential in a place like that. Not in that godforsaken—” She nearly screamed thinking of her distant hometown. Life on the island was suffocating. Worse, to have her abilities go unrecognized in such a limited environment had been beyond vexing. Her life had been so dull despite her superiority, wholly unbefitting for someone as special as her.

Still fuming, Keiko spotted a striking woman with a cat’s tail across the road. The woman was heading toward Nakasu, hand in hand with a preschooler.

“Don’t act like you belong in this town, ayakashi,” Keiko hissed. Her blood boiling, a swirling vortex of water appeared over her palm.

🍁🍁🍁

ONCE again, Shinozaki and I were eating at Kawazoe’s udon stall. By that point, the otter—no, kappa—and I had become good friends.

“Here you go,” he said.

Steam rose from the bowl of warm, airy udon. Brightly colored kamaboko, a heaping portion of scallions, and maruten rested atop the noodles. Maruten, a Fukuoka specialty, were round, fried fishcakes similar but not identical to tempura.

“Wow, this looks amazing!” I cried. “Time to dig in!”

One bite of the chewy maruten, and I was squirming in delight. The clear, golden broth smelled strongly of dashi, and its combination with the tender noodles caused my taste buds to fire with joy. After a full day of walking, the exquisite udon was the perfect remedy for my fatigue.

Speaking of which…

I looked up at the chef. “Actually, an ayakashi from Kagawa Prefecture gave me sanuki udon as a souvenir the other day,” I said. “I boiled it in the office and ate it with everyone. The noodles were firm and crispy. Both are tasty in their own right, but Fukuoka udon is completely different. Why is our udon so tender?”

“Hmm,” considered Kawazoe. “From what I’ve heard, Fukuoka udon is made tender and slippery so you can eat it quickly. Similar to thin ramen noodles.”

“Oh, I see. That way, you can eat the entire bowl before the noodles soak up the broth, right?”

At certain udon chains in Fukuoka, the restaurant provided a separate kettle containing the broth. Otherwise, the noodles gradually absorbed the liquid while the customer ate, leaving them with no soup.

“Udon varies from region to region,” Kawazoe said. “There’s sanuki in Kagawa, himi in Toyama, inaniwa in Akita, and mizusawa in Gunma. When I was a lad and trainin’ to be a chef, I traveled the country eating all kinds of udon.”

“That sounds amazing…”

“If you want to try something nearby, I’d recommend Gotō udon.”

“Oh, wow, I’ll keep that in mind. I’d love to travel around eating udon.”

“What’s stopping you?” he asked with a smile. “Shinozaki gives you time off, right? You could stay a night or two in another city over the weekend.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Aha. I stopped taking trips altogether while at my last job.”

Kawazoe winked at me. “Word of advice from an old man: visit every place you can while you still have the time and energy.”

Shinozaki, quietly enjoying his meal beside me, chimed in. “Let me know beforehand if you’re taking a trip, Kaede.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t let it interfere with work.”

“Not what I’m talking about. If you go sightseeing leaking spiritual energy, your mysterious death will end up on the next day’s news.”

“Yikes.”

Despite his ominous words and grave expression, Shinozaki’s tail swished back and forth behind him. He must have been enjoying his udon. His tail—large enough to be a body pillow—generated a rather strong breeze with each wag.

Adorable, much?

“Adorable, much?” I repeated aloud.

“I beg your pardon?” said Shinozaki.

“Sorry. That just kind of slipped out.”

Three months had passed since I started working for Shinozaki, and I’d met ayakashi from all over the country in Fukuoka. Their curiosity and drive to find a new home made each day novel and exciting.

Kawazoe poured a cup of tea for Shinozaki as the latter munched on a piece of inarizushi. “By the way, Shinozaki, have you heard about the passing miko?” he asked. “The one who’s been popping up around here lately?”

“Sure have,” replied Shinozaki.

“What the heck is a passing miko?” I asked. “A spinoff of a wandering miko?”

For some reason, Shinozaki choked.

“What’s wrong?” I queried as I rubbed his back.

He glared at me, his eyes welling with tears from the pressure in his throat. “You,” he said after managing to swallow, “know some weird-ass stuff.”

“You think?” I scratched my head. “Back in the day, my friends and I performed a rap battle based on the Battles of Kawanakajima for a school festival. I played a female ninja in Takeda Shingen’s army.”

“Sounds like the script writer went a little crazy with their personal interests.”

“Anyway, the ninja I played worked as a wandering miko. That’s why I know about them. Unlike normal shrine maidens, wandering miko are itinerant, right?”

Shinozaki didn’t answer.

“Am I wrong?” I pressed.

After a short pause, his brow furrowed, and he said, “No, you’re not wrong.”

I couldn’t tell if I’d angered or annoyed him. Either way, given his intense expression, I’d definitely touched on a sore subject.

Come to think of it, Shinozaki’s an over-four-hundred-year-old kitsune. Takeda Shingen lived around that time, right? Maybe Shinozaki met a wandering miko back then?

“Well, never mind that,” said Shinozaki. “The real issue is what the chef brought up.” Clearing his throat, he turned to Kawazoe. “I did hear about an assault, but what’s this about a passing miko?”

In Japanese, perpetrators of random attacks were called “passing demons.” “Passing miko” was likely a play on that phrase.

“Apparently, the assailant was a miko,” Kawazoe confirmed.

“Wait,” I said, panic seizing my chest. “Has there been anything on the news about the attack?”

I’d seen nothing of the sort on the local broadcast. Nor had the public safety information bot posted about it on social media.

“Nope,” said Shinozaki. “The news hasn’t reported on this random attacker because she’s only targeting ayakashi.”

“S-Scary. Has anyone alerted the police?”

Shinozaki shrugged. “Have you ever seen a TV bulletin concerning ayakashi?”

“I guess not.”

“Our police department does have a division that handles ayakashi and spirits, but it’s not public knowledge. Besides, we ayakashi try not to bother them if possible. Humans sticking their noses into our communities’ problems doesn’t sit well with us.”

I nodded. “That makes sense.”

“We try to resolve disputes internally whenever possible. This city is the domain of Lord Tenjin. Our self-governing bodies in Fukuoka are stable precisely because of the city’s dense spiritual energy. Consequently, we don’t get too many troublemakers around here, but…”

A chill eased down my spine as he trailed off. The passing miko wasn’t the only source of my discomfort. I was abruptly reminded that while ayakashi appeared to live regular lives, they existed on a different axis from normal society. That revelation frightened me as well.

“Kaede,” Shinozaki said, appearing to remember something. “It’s about time I teach you how to use your spiritual energy for self-defense.”

“But I’m not an ayakashi?”

“Don’t be stupid. You’re more suspicious than the average ayakashi. What kind of office lady walks around oozing that much energy?”

Kawazoe studied me. “Now that he mentions it, you’re not leaking as much as you were when we first met.”

“I, uh, had that taken care of,” I said.

“Thank Tenjin. I was worried about you.”

“Aha…” I glanced at Shinozaki’s mouth as he ate a thin slice of fried tofu. The sight of him licking his lips made my heart race, forcing me to look away.

Ugh, it’s too much for my poor little eyes.

Shinozaki hadn’t kissed me—scratch that. Shinozaki hadn’t “absorbed my spiritual energy” since my first day on the job. Apparently, I hadn’t yet accumulated enough energy to warrant another…absorption. We continued to eat out together and occupy the same office, his expression always composed despite the knowledge that another kiss loomed in our future.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but feel rattled. If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve dated in high school. All I ever did was give my friends advice on their love lives.

🍁🍁🍁

AFTER the meal, Shinozaki and I walked back to the station together.

“I wanted to ask you something,” I said as something occurred to me.

“What’s that?” he replied.

“You said it was dangerous to give an ayakashi spiritual energy without forming a contract, right?” He’d told me so when I tried to help Yoru in Ōhori Park.

“Yes, and…?”

“You, um…a-absorbed energy from me without one, right? Wasn’t that dangerous?”

“Don’t be stupid.” He grinned, his golden eyes narrowing with mischief. I shivered as a chill evening wind ruffled his silky hair. “Don’t underestimate a centuries-old fox. I’m not going to lose myself over a somewhat tasty meal.”

“Says the man who can’t stop wagging his tail while eating fried tofu.”

He didn’t reply. He merely grabbed his tail, lengthening his stride.

Don’t think you can fool me.

🍁🍁🍁

LATER that evening, I lounged with a library book as the Jellysh CD I’d borrowed from Shizuku played in the background.

“Wow, there are lots of different kitsune, huh?” I mumbled.

The book described their history—what was known at least—and hierarchy. Opinions differed greatly depending on the literature, time period, and source. Most concurred, however, that powerful foxes who practiced sadhana grew multiple tails.

“Shinozaki only has one,” I mused. “Does that mean he’s close to a normal fox in terms of ayakashi?” His low spiritual rank surprised me when I considered his high-and-mighty behavior. Then again, four hundred years wasn’t that old, historically speaking. Or at least, that’s the only number he ever referenced for his age, so I assumed that was it.

I strained to recall every ancient artifact I’d learned about in prefectural history classes, picturing them next to the tall and gorgeous Shinozaki. He’s younger than the King of Na gold seal, Hachiyoha Mirror, and Ōzuka Kofun burial mound.

“What kind of fox was he in the past?” I wondered aloud.

In my mind’s eye, he swiveled to look at me with a tender gaze, his long, blond hair falling to his shoulders. He was a refreshingly forthright person; to imagine him as a centuries-old kitsune was difficult. He seemed so normal.

Did his eyes narrow mischievously when he smiled in the past too? Had he ever kissed anyone before me?

“Whoa!” I hugged a pillow to my chest, kicking my feet. “Nope, nope, nope! Not thinking about that!”

I usually heard a meow of protest when I did so, yet Yoru was silent. My sometimes roommate, sometimes cat still hadn’t returned.

“Come to think of it, Yoru has two tails.”

We didn’t spend every day and night together. Evidently, he had his own work and social circles. He hadn’t come home in a week but frequently showed up at the office looking nonchalant, so he had to be doing well enough.

At that moment, a shadow hopped onto the veranda. Passing between one-hundred-yen planters growing onions and pea sprouts, the black cat wobbled over to me. He was soaking wet and carrying something in his jaws.

“What’s wrong, Yoru?”

He staggered into my room and spat the kitten from his mouth. It let out a high-pitched mewl, shivering from apparent cold, and he licked its face in a consoling manner.

“Oh no!” I cried. “Um, what should I do? I don’t know the first thing about caring for kittens.”

“Bring hot water,” he answered, still in his feline form. “And something to dry her off with.”

“Got it.”

I wrapped the kitten in a fluffy towel after setting some water boiling. Yoru nuzzled my hand as I rubbed him down as well. I could sense him siphoning my spiritual energy.

“Oh, right!” I realized. “Spiritual energy! Is the kitten an ayakashi?”

“She is. Her tail hasn’t split yet, but her mother is a nekomata.”

“Good to know!” I grabbed my work bag and yanked the transit card off it. Stickers still covered the eyes of the cartoon dog, so the card functioned as an improvised amulet.

I pointed the mascot at the kitten and struck a pose purely on instinct. “Kaede Kikui power!” I shouted. “Rain down! Hayakaken Beam!”

My exclamation startled Yoru, causing his fur to stand on end. The next instant, light burst from the cartoon dog’s eyes and showered onto the kitten. Gradually, her trembling subsided, and she fell asleep.

“Phew, that went well,” I said.

“What is that bizarre amulet?” asked Yoru.

“Shinozaki made it for me. He taught me the very basics of how to use my power.”

I slid the card back into its case. It was otherwise an ordinary commuter pass for the Fukuoka City Subway. Most transit cards printed in Japan followed the same naming scheme: two syllables followed by a “ka” sound. So Hayakaken was not only unique for its extra “ken,” but also its use of Ming typeface and distinctive mascot and logo. Overall, the cards exuded a strong impression of personality, and I’d used mine religiously since my student days because it accumulated points each ride.

“Look at this,” I said. “The mascot prairie dog has stickers over his eyes.”

“It most certainly does,” agreed Yoru.

“These stickers let it work as a quick and dirty amulet. It also lets Shinozaki know when I use spiritual energy.”

I considered the card. Thanks to Shinozaki’s adjustments, even I, an utter novice, could utilize spiritual energy like an actual miko. According to him, transit passes were a surprisingly common substitute for amulets.

“I see,” Yoru said, nodding meekly. “Your hi-yah-caw-can is a rather convenient arcane instrument.”

He transformed into a human and began to clean the kitten with the hot water I’d prepared. Afterward, he swaddled the kitten in the soft towel once more.

He could’ve, at the very least, put on some underwear. Still, I couldn’t complain about his nudity too much, considering the emergency. “Do you think she’ll be okay?” I asked.

“Yes. I need to let her dam know that she’s safe.”

“Her dam…? Oh, you mean her mother. Does she have a cell phone?”

“She does.”

“Okay, then we can give her a call.”

While Yoru did so, I stayed with the kitten, which snored wheezily.

Imparting spiritual energy to an uncontracted ayakashi isn’t ideal, but exceptions can be made for medical treatment, right?

I’d learned the method from Shinozaki in case of emergencies. My heart swelled with joy; I couldn’t believe how fast his instruction had come in handy.

Once Yoru had dried off and donned clothes, he explained the situation to me. “I was taking care of a group of young nekomata today when we encountered a miko who’s been assaulting our kind with water.”

“With water?”

“It was enchanted to dispel transformations. A single splash turned us back into cats. This miko wants to sabotage our lives and jobs, I suspect.”

“That’s way beyond harassment.” I shuddered, looking down at the kitten in my lap. What kind of person would attack a mother and child, even with water?

“The dam is a young nekomata,” Yoru said. “She works as a hostess in Nakasu.”

“Being splashed in those circumstances could cause all kinds of trouble for her.”

Yoru nodded. “She was trying to drop her kitten off at a nursery operated by fellow nekomata. That’s when the miko launched a surprise attack from the shadows.”

“How awful.”

Society couldn’t function without people—not just ayakashi—who worked at night. There were a few nighttime care centers around Nakasu for such human employees, and ayakashi evidently entrusted their children to similar facilities. How could someone violate the normal, everyday lives of hardworking nekomata? It was unforgivable.

“Is the mother—dam—okay?”

“Yes,” he said. “She didn’t suffer any harm since most of the water got on me. Unfortunately, the kitten did get splashed. I couldn’t fully protect her because she was standing at my feet.”

“I see.” I breathed a sigh of relief. At least the mother was safe.

“The dam told me she would be attending an emergency nekomata meeting after work,” Yoru said. “She’ll come pick up her kitten in the morning.”

“That makes sense. It’s rough out there, huh?” I regarded the slumbering kitten. Despite how frightened she must have been during the assault, she was sound asleep on her back. I could hear the faint beating of her heart through the rise and fall of her chest. “She’s not the least bit scared now, is she?” I asked.

“To a child, it was no more than a splash of water,” Yoru said. “Her condition isn’t as serious as an adult nekomata’s would be.” He gazed at her with an impassive yet somehow tender expression, and I detected a hint of fatherliness in his bearing.

“Is this kitten your daughter, by chance?”

“Goodness no,” he said. “Besides, male nekomata don’t raise their children.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his flat denial. “So, same as cats? But this dam and her kitten seem to trust you a lot,” I clarified. “So much so that I mistook you for the father.”

Yoru blinked in surprise. “You…think so?”

I smiled at him as I stroked the kitten. “A mother entrusting her child to a male cat during an emergency implies a great deal of trust. Plus, this kitten just rolled over and went to sleep because she feels safe around you.”

“I have been going to nurseries in and around Nakasu a lot lately. Perhaps I’ve become a familiar face.”

“You’ve been kicking butt at work, huh?”

Yoru covered his mouth, his ears flattening. “Your compliments are making me blush…”

He purred as I rubbed his throat, and I thought back to his ambush of me in Ōhori Park. He’d been fighting desperately just to survive. And after a short few months, he’d integrated into society and gained the trust of his fellow ayakashi. A happy pride filled my chest.

I rose, found a pair of boxers and pajamas, and threw them to him. Pulling my company tablet out of my work bag, I opened a map that Shinozaki had shared with me. It showed the locations where the passing miko had appeared.

“The woman who attacked you must have been the passing miko that Kawazoe mentioned,” I theorized. “Otter’s—kappa’s—intuition, maybe? Anyway, let’s check the other sightings, shall we?”

A pajamaed Yoru nodded.

The Tenjin Ayakashi Neighborhood Council was already investigating the case, and I wanted to provide them with as much information as possible. “Her appearances range from Tenjin to Nakasu,” I said, studying the timeline. “And the attacks started three months ago. That’s the exact same time I used up my PTO and switched jobs.”

According to superstition, crime increased in the spring. Had the passing miko become more active due to the season?

As I read the incident reports, all written in straightforward and dispassionate language, my chest tightened. The mother cats that worked night shifts and their kittens were doing their utmost to live normally on the Near Shore. The notion that their ordinary existence was under threat simply because they were ayakashi made my heart sink. Weren’t they also people who were struggling to survive?

“Hey, Yoru…”

“What is it, Lady Kaede?” His black, almond-shaped eyes bored into me. Handsome as ever.

“I’m sorry if this comes off as rude or out of line, but…”

“Don’t mind me.”

“Have you ever considered going to the Far Shore?” I asked. “Ayakashi are treated terribly in the human world. Most of us don’t even recognize or believe in your existence. Life here must be difficult in so many different ways. But despite all that, you still want to stay on the Near Shore, don’t you?” I hesitated, afraid to ask my next question. “You…don’t hate humans? Or this realm?”

Yoru was silent for a short while. Then he began to speak in a soft voice, choosing his words carefully. “Other ayakashi have a multitude of reasons for remaining on the Near Shore. Take this as my reason and mine alone.” He waited for me to nod before continuing. “I choose to stay on the Near Shore because my beloved master’s descendants still exist in this world. I want to continue living here while cherishing his memory and that of his progeny. I have no other reason. That’s my only wish, no matter how difficult life is here.”

“Yoru…”

The nekomata had spoken with unwavering conviction. His pitch-black eyes met mine, fierce, earnest. “You, my old master, and the passing miko are different people,” he said. “Even though you’re all human. Isn’t that right?”

“You really believe that?” I asked, unable to hide my incredulity. “You won’t grow to hate all humans?”

“You’re a good person, Lady Kaede.” He looked at me fondly. “On the other hand, I’m an evil ayakashi who once tried to harm you.”

I gasped.

“Will you grow to hate President Shinozaki and other ayakashi?” he pressed. “Just because I did something bad?”

“No, of course not,” I answered. “But I take your point. Our situations are the same, aren’t they?”

“You could say that.”

“Still…I could never hate you, Yoru.”

“Thank you,” he said with a rare grin. He lifted the kitten from my lap and placed her back on the towel. The tiny furball still snoozed, belly up and tongue lolling. “Besides,” he murmured, gazing at her, “I’m scared of going to the Far Shore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was born on the Near Shore. It’s the only home I’ve ever known. Abandoning this world would be the same as admitting that I’m not needed. That I have no place here.” He brushed the kitten’s fur with a gentle hand. He clearly hoped that she, another ayakashi of the Near Shore, could avoid a similar fate.

“What if, by some chance, I went to the Far Shore and found it to my liking?” he asked. “I would have no choice but to admit that I failed to survive here.”

“Yoru…”

“I want to belong in this realm.”

Following that quiet admission, Yoru transformed back into a cat. He wriggled out of the pajamas, climbed into my lap, and nuzzled my hand. He curled into a black ball and, seemingly to himself, mumbled, “I want to belong on the Near Shore because I was born and raised here. That’s all.”

He must have been quite tired, for he fell asleep instantly.

🍁🍁🍁

THE following day, Shinozaki shared news of the passing miko’s attack during the morning assembly. Later, after a typical day of work, I went home at the regular time, showered, and readied myself once more.

My mother came home from shopping as I was leaving. “Sorry, Mom, but I’m heading out again,” I told her. “I won’t need dinner.”

“Oh? Are you going out to eat?”

“No, I’m going back to work. Something big happened, and I might not be back until tomorrow morning.”

The blood drained from her face. She was obviously remembering how hard I’d pushed myself at my previous job. “Oh no,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

Suddenly, we heard voices from outside. We opened the front door to find my father, who’d just arrived home from work, having a friendly conversation with Shinozaki.

Mom’s expression brightened. “Goodness gracious, Mr. Shinozaki, did you come to pick up Kaede yourself? In that case, I don’t need to worry.”

Dad smiled as well. “Thank you for taking care of our daughter. Work her to the bone if you need to!”

I cocked my head. Did my parents like Shinozaki a little too much?

“Let’s be on our way,” he urged. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr. and Mrs. Kikui.”

“Take care, Kaede!” called Mom.

“And don’t cause Shinozaki any trouble!” Dad added.

“Um… See you later, I guess?” I replied.

“Bewitched by a fox” was a common Japanese idiom meaning “baffled.” As I climbed into the familiar company car, I felt the phrase literally.

Shinozaki started the engine and pulled onto the road.

“I didn’t expect you to pick me up personally,” I said.

“I promised to protect your normal life, remember?” he said. “I wouldn’t want your parents getting suspicious because I’m dragging you around during the dead of night.”

“Thank you. Still, don’t my parents like you a little too much? You haven’t cast some sort of shady spell on them, right?”

He didn’t respond.

“Not denying it, huh?”

Since Shinozaki refused to comment, I gave up and stared out the window. We were driving down the highway toward Nakasu, the bright, purplish-red sunset foretelling the approach of the summer solstice. Neon lights illuminated the shopping district and shimmered on the river’s surface like an overturned jewelry box, and the full moon resembled a distant ornament pinned to the night sky.

As we neared Nakasu, the number of taxis on the road increased. The general vibe of people strolling the sidewalks changed as well. Lightly dressed women in dazzling outfits caught my eye. Likewise, the men wore casual clothes befitting the city’s nightlife.

Of course, Shinozaki and I weren’t going out for drinks. Rather, we were pursuing the passing miko. Something needed to be done about her. An ayakashi’s retaliation against a human, however, even in defense, could prove problematic. The ayakashi council had therefore decided to let me—a human employee of Shinozaki’s company—confront her.

“I didn’t want to bring you to this sort of place,” Shinozaki admitted grimly.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “In case you forgot, I’m a legal adult.”

“That’s not the issue. I don’t want to thrust a human leaking spiritual energy into the middle of this, even if I’ve absorbed most of it.”

“Oh, that’s what you meant?”

“Besides…” Shinozaki looked at me and sighed. “This isn’t the sort of place that a defenseless young lady should be visiting.”

“You sound like my dad. We’re here for work, and I’m wearing my job-hunting suit. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not the point.” He glanced at me, then ruffled my hair. “Look out for yourself, okay?”

I looked away, my heart racing from his gentle touch and concerned gaze. At first, Shinozaki’s intensity and otherworldly beauty frightened me. Lately though, I’d begun to consider him a wonderful and reliable man.

Could I be more blessed, getting to work with my fave? I can pet his ears and tail as much as I want. And he even k-kissed…

Wait. Does the average fangirl feel this way?

“B-B-By the way,” I ventured.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Why do so many female nekomata work as hostesses?”

“They’ve always excelled in the hospitality industry,” he answered, navigating the car through a narrow alley. “There are legends of manors inhabited solely by female nekomata scattered throughout Kyushu. I told you about this, didn’t I?”

“You did.” I recalled my training. “Female nekomata create and live in mansions all over Japan. And these mansions lead to different realms, right? In Kyushu, male nekomata climb Mount Neko in Kumamoto Prefecture to practice sadhana, while female nekomata live in an estate at the foot of the mountain. There are also legends about nekomata surrounding the Okinawan cat islands.”

Male nekomata from Oita and Fukuoka Prefectures, and even from across the sea from Yamaguchi Prefecture, gathered in isolation. On the other hand, female nekomata built communities near human villages. Perhaps that was related to their rearing of kittens.

“But the nekomata from Saga are different, right?” I asked.

“If you’re talking about the Nabeshima Bakeneko Disturbance, that’s the category of nekomata our Yoru falls under,” Shinozaki replied. “His kind are a remnant of Chinese sorcery that used spirit cats as familiars. In other words, Yoru comes from a line of nekomata that require a master-servant relationship.”

“So that’s why…?”

Since starting my new job, I’d learned that very few ayakashi rely upon such a bond. Human society had abandoned ayakashi familiars, Shinozaki had explained, and few of them remained on the Near Shore.

I glanced at him. The sigil on his chest signified a contract with a specific human. Was he one of the rare familiars who had chosen to stay? And who was his beloved master?

“Kaede? You’re spacing out on me.”

“Wha—?!” I blurted. “S-Sorry about that.”

He shrugged. “So, as I was saying, several clubs in Nakasu are actually nekomata houses. All the employees, from the madam to the hostesses, are female nekomata. A lot of the investors are human though.”

“Interesting.”

“Working at night suits nekomata better. Cats are often active at night, after all.”

“Oh,” I realized, “that’s why nekomata have night care centers.”

“Exactly. Frolicking around a nursery helps the kittens get their energy out. Given how fast they grow, they rarely attend school.”

We’d stopped in a parking lot. On foot, we waded through a sea of bargoers.

Nakasu had some of the most electrifying nightlife in Kyushu. Bouncers, hosts and hostesses, and men and women of all ages crowded the brilliantly illuminated red-light district.

“Let’s go,” Shinozaki said.

“O-Okay!”

He strode through the swarm of people with a practiced gait. Although I could usually handle the bustle of Tenjin, I couldn’t predict the movements of the drunks and solicitors at all.

“Hey, miss!” a man called to me. “Wanna work for us?”

“Huh?!” I squeaked, my eyes widening. I clutched my bag.

Before I could say another word, Shinozaki placed an arm around my shoulder and started to lead me through the throng.

“Th-Thank you…” I mumbled.

“Sorry, but let’s walk like this for a while.”

“S-Sure.”

My heart fluttered as he escorted me down the street, our bodies touching. No one else catcalled me, likely assuming I was taken, and we were able to weave through the masses much more smoothly.

I glanced up at Shinozaki.

What do we look like to everyone else? A boss and his dimwitted employee? Though he wouldn’t have his arm around me in that case, right? A couple, then?

Not a chance. He’s way out of my league.

“A popular host strolling with a customer, maybe…?”

“What are you muttering about?” asked Shinozaki.

“Nothing really. I was just wondering how we appear to others.”

“I’d rather not be mistaken for a host scamming a naïve office worker.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “That would be a pretty bad look, huh?”

We eventually reached the club, a row of men in black suits standing guard outside the building. Beyond the entrance, I glimpsed a shimmering marble floor. “W-Wow…”

Upon seeing Shinozaki, one of the bouncers wordlessly led us to the back elevator. The man pressed the button, then bowed his head in solemn farewell.

I trembled like a leaf beside Shinozaki, who seemed perfectly at ease. “Mind if I hold your tail to calm my nerves?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he retorted.

As the elevator doors slid open, the sight of an extravagant chandelier encrusted with gold, teardrop-shaped jewels greeted me. Everything from the floor to the walls sparkled with a beauty I’d never before witnessed.

I spotted bouncers conferring with the madam, as well as employees in the process of cleaning. Are they still setting up?

The madam wore a kimono, and calico ears peeked from her magnificent, black updo. Her tail, curled at the tip, swayed back and forth as one of the bouncers leaned in to whisper in her ear. She turned to face us, her lips curving into a smile.

“Why, if it isn’t Shino,” she said. “Thank you for always taking care of my girls.”

Shino?Is that a nickname? They didn’t seem close enough to use nicknames. And his given name was Rai, I recalled.

“It’s Shinozaki,” the fox said. “I go by a different name now.”

“Oh, that’s right,” the madam purred. “Sorry for the slipup.”

Shinozaki noticed my confusion. “I’ve had several different names, considering how long I’ve lived. A long time ago, I went by Shino.”

“That makes sense.”

“Akino,” Shinozaki said, turning to her once more. “Are they doing all right today?”

“Yes indeed. That tom, the one who served a line of samurai, is keeping a close watch over them.”

That’s Yoru, I realized.

I bowed my head to the madam. “Nice to meet you,” I said. “My name is Kaede Kikui. The neighborhood council asked me to pose as a hostess in order to prevent another incident. I look forward to working with you.”

Akino pressed a hand against her lush lips. “My, my…” she murmured, her expression thoughtful.

Shinozaki stepped between us. “I won’t let you actually hire her as a hostess,” he warned. “We discussed this earlier, remember?”

Akino pouted. “But why not? She’d be as cute as a button with a little makeover.”

“No means no.”

She tittered. “Well, if you insist.” In spite of her easy surrender, she gave me a suggestive smile. “Hmm… You really are his favorite, aren’t you?”

🍁🍁🍁

TO be called cute was flattering, but sure enough, I wasn’t cut out to be a hostess. Instead, I patrolled the club in my job-hunting suit, greeting nekomata as they came into work. Periodically, I checked in with nekomata who were accompanying guests elsewhere, as well as rode taxis with them to and from the club. Since Yoru had been stationed at the nursery, they were protected on all fronts.

Eventually, we received an escort request from a hostess meeting a client at a hot pot restaurant. As I hopped into the front passenger seat of the taxi, I discovered that the nekomata I was chaperoning was the mother of the kitten Yoru had saved. Dressed in a chic suit, her hair in elegant waves, she winked at me from the back seat.

Later that evening, I spied her at the club again as she chatted with a wealthy-looking executive. After leading him to his seat, she excused herself to touch up her hair and makeup in the back.

She flashed a genuine smile at me as the beautician set her hair. “Thank you for taking care of my kitten yesterday, sweetie.”

When picking up her daughter earlier that morning, she’d been dressed like a normal mother. At night, however, she was the perfect hostess. Beautiful calico ears nestled amid her glamorous curls.

“Is your daughter okay now?” I asked.

“Oh, she’s fine!” the cat replied. “The attack startled her a bit, of course, but when she heard Yoru would be at the nursery tonight, she was practically bouncing off the walls. He’s her personal hero now.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Now then, time to make up for last night by working my tail off.” The nekomata squared her narrow shoulders, donned her best smile, and returned to the hall. She looked quite dignified, sashaying over to a customer in her shiny dress and high heels. A lovely Swarovski crystal accessory hung from the end of her hooked tail.

Come to think of it, cats from Nagasaki have bent tails like that. Could she be from there originally?

“Kaede,” Shinozaki said as I watched her leave. “Anything to report from outside?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. But there have been previous instances of the miko attacking nekomata on their way home, so I need to stay alert.”

“I’m counting on you.” He clapped me on the shoulder before stepping back into the hall as well.

One particular guest, an octopus ayakashi, broke into a smile at the sight of him. “Well, if it isn’t the Lost Fox of Tenjin,” the octopus said, wriggling happily. “How long has it been since we ran into each other?”

Shinozaki didn’t work at the club, of course, but knew many of the executives and ayakashi who frequented it. A celebrity of sorts, he was obligated to greet everyone, and he spoke to the octopus, who appeared to be a company executive; an ayakashi in samurai garb; and a group of humans on his umpteenth round of hellos.

Meanwhile, I observed the proceedings from the shadows. A wide variety of beings visited the nekomata’s mansion. Some patrons dispelled their human appearance upon entering, choosing to interact with the hostesses as ayakashi. Others were human executives who knew about ayakashi. At the very least, everyone shared a common knowledge of the supernatural.

I glanced at Shinozaki one last time before wandering back to the employee area. He seemed wholly at home exchanging pleasantries with the multitude.

“…That looks rough,” I muttered under my breath. Yet I also found his efforts dashing. He worked so hard to bring together ayakashi who wouldn’t otherwise have a community. And he’d saved me as well.

“Kaede!” crowed Akino, hugging me from behind.

I squealed. “Whoa!”

Her ample bosom pressed against my back. Even as a fellow woman, I couldn’t help the blush warming my cheeks. Her intoxicating scent was causing my mind to go blank. “Wh-What’s going on?!”

She giggled. “How adorable. You’ve been watching Shino…Shinozaki this whole time, haven’t you?”

My heart skipped a beat.

Akino eyed him, her sensuous lips—beauty mark and all—curling into a smirk. “Quite a catch, isn’t he? You like him, don’t you?”

“Yes. He’s a great boss.”

“What do you think about him as a woman? You can barely take your eyes off him.”

“Well, um…”

“You might not be too late, you know?”

Before I realized I was moving, Akino had driven me against a wall. She slapped her hand against it and leaned into me. Her beautiful face, deep cleavage, and heady scent overwhelmed me. Feverish heat radiated from her body where our skin touched—like that of a cat, maybe.

Wow. She could have anyone in the palm of her hand.

“A-A-Akino, u-umm…”

“You have the scent of Shinozaki’s bite on you,” she breathed. “Your spiritual energy smells delightful, but no ayakashi in Fukuoka would dare lay a hand on his mistress. He cares for you deeply, no?”

“H-He treats me very well for an ordinary employee… That’s all.”

“An ordinary employee? Are you sure about that?” She caressed my jaw, her captivating gaze causing sweat to drip down my back. “Could you be the one Shinozaki has been wai—”

“That’s enough,” he said in an exasperated tone, walking over to us. “Stop teasing her, Akino.”

Immediately, her smirk melted into an innocent smile. “Come now,” she replied, backing away from me and shrugging. “I was only joking. How could I resist when she’s so cute? Besides, it’s not every day you hire a new employee. And a human girl at that.”

“It’s a matter of public safety. What would happen to the domain of Lord Tenjin if she walked around like that?”

Akino snickered. “Good point. Honestly, I’m impressed that a tasty treat like her has survived so long. She might as well be covered in barbequed Saga beef.”

“Saga beef?!” I yelped.

And with that, she retreated to the hall.

I heaved a sigh, utterly exhausted. “Thank you so much. I thought I was about to be cat foo—”

Looking up at Shinozaki, I found myself speechless. His golden eyes pinned me down, not a trace of emotion on his face. Did his ears and tail look somewhat taut, or was that my imagination? Is he angry?

“Um, Shinozaki?”

Suddenly, he was the one backing me into the wall.

Without warning, he opened the first button of my shirt, tugged aside my collar, and bit my neck.

“Ngh…”

“Your spiritual energy was starting to overflow again,” he said. “I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Shinozaki…” My head spun with a sweet tingling sensation. It felt stronger and more intense than Akino’s seduction, as though Shinozaki were devouring my very soul.

“I shouldn’t have let it get to this point,” he whispered, his hoarse voice tickling my eardrum. “But since I’ve marked you, you should be safe for now.”

I stood mutely, my legs shaking, as Shinozaki rebuttoned my shirt.

He wiped his lips. His tailed swayed behind him, glowing faintly. “Sorry.” He ruffled my hair. “I should’ve done more to protect you.” And he withdrew to the hall once more.

I crumpled to the ground, unable to stand for a while.

🍁🍁🍁

I worked nights for the next few days. My parents didn’t seem to mind, since Shinozaki chauffeured me every time. Not to mention the sketchy spell he’d cast on them.

Each morning, I immediately passed out after arriving home. Breakfast at noon, then departure at dusk felt incredibly strange. Fortunately, none of the nekomata had tried to seduce me since the incident with Akino. Shinozaki’s hickey—no, his bite mark—seemed to have done the trick.

Even with the air conditioner running, sweat still dappled my skin in the summer evening. After showering, I put on the wrinkle-free dress shirt that I’d worn in perpetuity during my job-hunting days.

Checking my reflection, I placed a hand on my neck. “I can’t see it at all…”

I still lived with my parents, so I definitely wanted to avoid hickeys. Despite its invisibility, some part of me knew that the mark remained. Perhaps I could sense it via my spiritual energy. A blush crept up my cheeks as I remembered my friends trying to hide their hickeys in high school.

“Shinozaki,” I muttered, “this is way too much action for a girl who’s never had a boyfriend.”

I let out a deep sigh in an attempt to cool my flushed face, then fastened my top button. Another night of work was about to begin.

🍁🍁🍁

THE club’s fading background music marked the end of a long and busy summer evening. Respectful of the establishment’s hours, the guests started to file out. They weren’t allowed to take the hostesses out after close either, due to the current stance on public safety.

Over the past few days, I’d become acquainted with the bouncers. We often chatted while I helped clean tables, take out the trash, and so forth.

“Damn, Kaede, you really know how to sort garbage,” one said.

“I like this sort of detail-oriented job,” I replied.

“We could really use someone as efficient as you around here.”

“Oh, no, I could never work at this club.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Shinozaki materialized, clearing his throat with a pointed ahem. Paling, the bouncers scattered awkwardly.

“Well, aren’t you the life of the party?” he observed, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Oh, c’mon, I was just having a normal conversation with them,” I said.

“Don’t get too invested in this place. You’re still my employee, remember?”

“That’s true, but I’m working with them on this job. I need to get along with everyone.”

Shinozaki fell silent.

What’s this? Is he in a bad mood or something?

“Are you jealous, by chance?” I asked.

“Wh-What?!” he spluttered, his eyes bulging wide.

Called it,I thought with a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m hardly suited to be a bouncer just because they buttered me up a little bit. Besides, I am your employee, and I’m not planning to switch jobs anytime soon.”

An odd expression surfaced on his face. He looked as though he’d bitten something that shouldn’t have been anywhere near his mouth.

“Shinozaki?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Um, really?”

“Look,” he said, gesturing with his jaw. “The girls will be back any second now.”

Right on cue, a chattering group of female nekomata reappeared, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

“Kaede! Shinozaki!” one called. “Thanks for all your hard work!”

The hostesses all seemed to be in their late teens to early thirties. With their long, slender limbs and delicate features, each of them could have been a model or in the entertainment industry.

A moment later, we received word that a taxi had arrived, and I headed to the elevator with the group of nekomata.

“Kaede,” Shinozaki said as I stepped onto it. The doors began to slide shut, and he raised his hand in farewell. “Be careful out there.”

“Thank you!”

For some reason, his casual parting remark warmed my chest. Meanwhile, the nekomata paid no attention to our exchange, fiddling with their phones instead. Presumably, they’d expended all their charm on patrons.

If I were as beautiful as these nekomata, would I have been embarrassed when Shinozaki kissed me? I wondered as I studied my reflection in the mirrored wall of the elevator cabin. Or able to confidently kiss him back?

🍁🍁🍁

I watched hostesses clamber into taxis one after another until only the mother cats remained. We then packed into a van bound for the night care center.

Light spilled from the windows of the nursery. Inside, kittens bounced up and down, mewing excitedly at their mothers’ return.

“Mama!” one cried.

“Welcome back!” another kitten cheered.

While some resembled human toddlers, others were still feline. All of them charged outside to their mothers, who they’d sorely missed. The hostesses caught the leaping kittens in their arms, their beautiful faces as fiercely loving as a mother cat’s.

“Did you have a nice time while I was gone?” one mother asked.

“Yep!” the kitten replied. “Mishter Yoru and I played shword fighting!”

I turned my gaze from the hubbub to the nursery’s entrance. In the doorway, I spotted Yoru in an adorable apron. He held a veritable litter of kittens, each the size of his palm, in both hands.

“Good work,” I said.

“You too.”

One by one, the mother cats climbed aboard the van again, cradling their kittens in the moonlight. The sight of so many loving mothers and children mewing cheerfully on their way home brought me to the verge of tears. I wanted to protect that normal scene for them at any cost.

After handing the last of the kittens to its mother, Yoru’s black ears drooped, and he nuzzled my shoulder. “I’m exhausted.”

I laughed. “So, on top of being a bodyguard, you also had to play nanny, huh?”

Yoru purred as I scratched him under the chin. “Yeah, I’m beat,” he said. “This is way too much responsibility for a tomcat like me.”

“You did great though. And it’s nice to be adored for working so hard, right?”

He nodded, begrudgingly pleased. His eyes sparkled as he watched everyone cramming into the van. “Speaking of which, I still have a little more to do,” he sighed. “I’ll meet up with you after I escort the other nannies home.”

“Good luck. I’ll give you some tube treats when you get back.”

“Thanks.”

I boarded the van as well, and we trundled back to the club. After we dropped the nekomata off at their nearby dormitory, silence finally descended over the vehicle.

“Well, that’s a wrap,” I mumbled. I slumped in my seat, watching Nakasu through the window. I saw employees and customers—humans and ayakashi alike—trickling home from various establishments. By all appearances, the night had passed without incident.

Just as I relaxed and began to consider going home myself, an unpleasant premonition pricked my senses. I withdrew my Hayakaken card from my pocket. The eyes of the mascot character were glowing.

Someone’s using spiritual power!

“Mr. Chauffeur!” I cried. “I need to head out for a bit!”

“Be careful!” he hollered. “I’ll let Shinozaki know.”

I leapt out of the van, still clutching my transit card, and raced in the direction my instincts pulled me. Weaving around exhausted drunks, I dashed into an alley.

A chill oozed down my spine.

Reflexively, I spun around and brandished the pass. “Hayakaken shield!”

Electrostatic discharge crackled through the air, and a thin barrier formed in front of me. Water drummed against it a second later. It’s the passing miko! I braced for action as the shield faded.

I couldn’t believe who stood at the opposite end of the alley. Her familiar face twisted my gut into knots. “Nieshima…?”

How could I forget my senior coworker from my previous job?

“Is that you, Kikui?” she asked. “What on earth are you doing here?” She seemed just as surprised to see me.

“I’m protecting ayakashi from the passing miko,” I said, still overcome with shock. “But I never expected you to be the attacker.”

Nieshima glared at me and clicked her tongue. “What do you think you’re doing, accusing me of something like that?”

“Well, um, you did just attack me, right? I’ve basically caught you red-handed.”

She didn’t answer.

“Ayakashi are already warning each other about you,” I said. “They know water is your MO and everything else you’ve done.”

“Seriously?” She snorted. “I don’t know anything about that. Don’t accuse me of something you can’t prove.”

“Like I said…um, I’ve basically caught you red-handed.”

She fell quiet again, pouting like a sullen child considering how best to deal with a resistant parent.

My heart twinged ever so slightly. Certainly, Nieshima had been a difficult colleague. Even so, she’d been leading a normal life, blending in relatively well at her job. Why had she turned to crime?

“Why are you doing this?” I asked

“No reason,” she replied. “I just mistook you for a creep and splashed a bit of water on you.”

“Based on how my Hayakaken card reacted, you definitely attacked me with spiritual energy. Why? Aren’t you an ordinary human? You’re not an ayakashi, right?”

“Did you just call me ordinary?” She glared at me. “What the hell do you mean by that? You think you’re better than me just because you have a little talent?”

“Wh-Where is this coming from?!” Evidently I’d hit a nerve. My mind raced, searching for a way to right the blunder. “I don’t think I’m better than you at all. I-I was just making sure you weren’t a tanuki.”

“A tanuki?! You knew the company had become a den of tanuki?!”

“Well, um, I guess you could say that…” I muttered, keeping my answer vague.

Nieshima nodded. “Aha, I see now,” she said, smirking. “You work for my family, don’t you?! They sent you there to sabotage me! To make sure I couldn’t accomplish my objective and earn my freedom!”

“Uh, I don’t know the first thing about your family!”

“Or maybe,” she hissed, “you seduced that tanuki, bled him dry, and then tossed him aside like yesterday’s garbage! How revolting!”

“You think I could pull off being that kind of temptress with this face?!”

“Men just love country bumpkins with a heart of gold, after all!”

“You’re roasting me now?!” I exclaimed.

“I’ve been holding this back for a while now!” She jabbed a finger in my direction. “You were pretty popular outside the office too! Our clients were always fawning over you as well, weren’t they?! And you have spiritual powers on top of all that?! Is this some kind of stupid joke?!”

“No, um, I…”

Popular outside the office? I’d only done what was necessary to restore our company’s reputation.

Fuming, Nieshima pointed at my Hayakaken card. “And while we’re at it, what the hell is that amulet supposed to be?! That’s all you need to defend yourself from my spiritual energy, huh?! Are you mocking me?!

“Not in the slightest,” I said. “I don’t have any knowledge or experience as a miko. My new boss turned this into an amulet that even a complete novice can use.”

“Liar!” she screeched, her face bright with rage. “You can’t function as a miko with no knowledge or experience! Worst of all, you’ve sided with the ayakashi. Unbelievable…” Her shoulders quivered, and a vortex of water began to swirl around her.

“Nieshima…”

Paradoxically, her anger helped me regain my composure and better comprehend the situation. Little by little, I was beginning to understand: Nieshima perceived my actions as an assertion of dominance. After all, a normie like me shouldn’t even have spiritual energy, let alone be using it for work. Whatever I said, I realized, would only fan her agitation.

I tightened my grip on the Hayakaken card. Shinozaki would arrive any minute, drawn by its signal. I needed to ensure that Nieshima didn’t escape before then. I gulped. From the alleyway, the hustle and bustle of Nakasu’s main street sounded like a different world.

“Nieshima.” I took a deep breath. “Do you hate ayakashi?”

“Ayakashi don’t belong on the Near Shore,” she said. “What’s wrong with banishing those that won’t leave our realm?”

I’d worried she wouldn’t answer the question. But fortunately, she’d taken the bait. I needed to buy as much time as possible.

“I think they do belong here,” I said, trying to project a calm demeanor. “But you must have a reason for thinking otherwise, right?”

“My reason hardly needs discussing. Those without community and purpose get weeded out; it’s a dog-eat-dog world. Isn’t that exactly what happened to those tanuki not too long ago?”

“That’s because they were criminals, not because they were ayakashi…I think.”

“They committed crime because they’re ayakashi. Don’t mix up cause and effect. Their kind have no place on the Near Shore.” She lifted her chin with a sneer. “If they insist on living here despite that, they should keep to the fringes of society. And if that sounds unpleasant, they can always go to the Far Shore.”

“What if an ayakashi was born and raised on the Near Shore and doesn’t cause any trouble?” I asked. I remained wary of the water cycling around her. “Should we still banish those ayakashi from our realm? Is there any reason to attack an ayakashi that hasn’t committed a crime? One that’s simply working hard and doing their best to survive?”

“Seriously?” she repeated, folding her arms and sniffing derisively. “What’s so impressive about an ayakashi working?”

I recalled the joyful mother cats and their kittens. Yoru, Hainuzuka, the mermaids, and Shinozaki. My chest tightened. Nieshima could pin her unjustified anger on me or insult me as much as she liked. I just couldn’t let her leave. Not if she considered it normal to threaten ordinary ayakashi that were struggling simply to live. As an employee of Ayakashi Moving and Career Services, I had to stand my ground.

“Nieshima,” I said, “I don’t care how twisted your thinking has become. I don’t care if you’ve become a slave to your own judgmental attitude. I won’t let you hurt innocent people.”

“I’m hurting ayakashi,” she replied. “Not people.”

“…Is that right?”

I had to keep wasting time. I held up my transit card and posed like a Power Ranger. I used every ounce of my nonexistent acting ability to pretend I could fight.

“Wh-What are you doing?” shrilled Nieshima, her confidence cracking.

She’s clearly flustered, but she’ll freak if she finds out I’m bluffing.

“You really plan to cross swords with me—a miko of Aoeshima Island?” she snapped. “Fine. I admire your courage if nothing else.”

She shifted. Water jetted from her hand and transformed into a scythe, its curved blade pointed at me. Her jaw clenched. Based on how tightly she held the handle, she was spoiling for a fight.

“Full of yourself, aren’t you?” she scoffed. “I don’t care what the office harlot posing as a good little secretary has to say. You think you’re so special just because you gained a bit of spiritual power?”

“Do I really seem that full of myself?” I asked quickly. “Could you describe just how arrogant I look in one hundred words or less?”

“Shut the hell up already!” She sliced downward at me. But the reckless swing, clearly driven by emotion, didn’t scare me. I simply repelled the attack with another barrier. Then—

“Kaede,” a familiar voice said. “Good job stalling her.”

Nieshima’s eyes widened. The tap of leather shoes echoed from behind me, and I half turned to see Shinozaki surrounded by a constellation of will-o’-the-wisps. Amid their glow, he was a beacon of light beneath the night sky.

“Keiko Nieshima,” he drawled. “Eldest daughter of House Nieshima—a line of exorcists that hails from Aoeshima Island.”

He came to my rescue. I nearly collapsed in sheer relief. I didn’t lower my transit card though.

Nieshima clucked in annoyance. “Why does some lowly, one-tailed fox know my name?”

“Because unlike you, I don’t stumble heedlessly through life.” He sauntered toward us, selecting a will-o’-the-wisp and pressing it against his lips. “You’re a miko that uses low-level water magic. Although commonplace, your magic isn’t untraceable. And aside from exceptions like Kaede,” he said, glancing at me, “most spiritual practitioners belong to specific bloodlines.

“This is the territory of Lord Tenjin. Any miko familiar with Fukuoka should know better than to violate the law of this land. So our suspect was a low-level water user with no awareness of our domain. It wasn’t hard to trace you from there. After a quick call to a friend in Fukuoka’s public works department, I pinpointed your identity.”

“Are you telling me,” growled Nieshima, “that ayakashi and public servants are conspiring with each other?”

“We do the odd favor for each other in exchange for money. Well, you’ll understand when you’re older.” He winked. “Ayakashi are often much more knowledgeable about spiritual energy and local lore. When I reached out to the people of your birthplace, they told me everything about you. Although you were born in the main family, the water god Suijin didn’t select you as its miko. Your relatives treated you like a failure, and your little sister stole your birthright as the next head of the house.

“You failed the civil servant exam for exorcists, then turned your back on your family and found a job in Fukuoka. But you quit that job because you weren’t satisfied with your position. Now you’re haunting the streets as the passing miko.”

“Stop blathering like you know everything,” Nieshima snarled. “You have no idea how much I’ve suffered.”

“What does your suffering matter?” retorted Shinozaki as he halted beside me. “You never considered the thoughts and lives of your victims, did you? Even Kaede Kikui—whom you attacked for no good reason—has endured her fair share.” He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and my chest ached in response to his tender concern for me, his earnest defense of me.

“A special bloodline doesn’t make life easy,” he admonished. “You should know that better than anyone. Kaede, too, struggled to live a normal life because her spiritual energy made her an easy target for tanuki. Even so, she’s putting her strengths to good use, doing her utmost to help people in her own way. Why don’t you take a long, hard look at reality and give life your best shot as well?”

Nieshima’s face had darkened to a beet-red. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” she screamed. “What the hell are you telling me to do, exactly?!” A shockwave blasted toward us, Nieshima at its epicenter.

Shinozaki murmured under his breath.

Abruptly, the force rebounded on Nieshima. “Gah!” she cried, falling to her knees.

I stepped forward. “I’m sure you’ve suffered a great deal of hardship,” I said. “But if you keep sabotaging other people’s happiness, I’m sure you’ll live to regret it!”

At that instant, wingbeats reverberated through the night sky.

“He’s here,” Shinozaki murmured.

Looking up, I spotted a man alighting on the ground—a man with the wings of a predatory bird sprouting from the back of his business suit. They were large enough to envelop his entire body, and his hair, smooth and silver, fluttered with each gust. Otherwise, he looked like a handsome office worker in his thirties. He wore round, gold-rimmed glasses and an armband on one sleeve.

And a pure-white snake coiled around his right arm.

“Heed their words, miko,” the serpent said in the hoarse tones of an old man. “Did you not leave the island to take stock of yourself and discover your capability?”

Nieshima paled.

The handsome man bowed his head in my direction, taking no notice of Nieshima’s sudden trembling. “Good evening,” he said. “You must be Ms. Kikui. It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Rokuro Fukuda, and I’m a legal consultant.”

“Good evening,” I parroted. “It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Kaede Kikui.”

His piercing gaze caused my skin to tingle. Even I could sense his spiritual strength.

“This is Dr. Fukuda,” said Shinozaki. “He’s the consultant who handled the resignation from your previous job.”

“I hail from Hokkaido,” Dr. Fukuda said. “I was Cikap-kamuy, the local deity, for a long time. But when everyone left the land that was under my protection, I moved to Fukuoka Prefecture with the coal miners.”

“That’s…quite a long journey,” I noted.

His large wings reminded me of an owl.

Wait.

The Japanese word for owl was fukuro. His name in reverse was Fukuda Rokuro.

Regardless, I could hardly believe that gods moved from place to place just like humans. His deific presence fizzed along my nerves, captivating me.

“My lord…” choked Nieshima on the verge of tears. “Why are you here?”

“Rumors of a miko affiliated with my shrine, rampaging in Fukuoka, reached my ears,” the snake answered. “How could I not leave the island?”

Nieshima clenched her fists, her face whitening further. Her quaking form reminded me of a young child anticipating corporal punishment. I could intuit just how severe her training had been.

“Your little sister surpasses you in ability, ambition, and raw spiritual energy,” the snake said. “She serves me well. Yet she still supports her older sister who fled the island in search of success.”

“I don’t need her pity,” said Nieshima through gritted teeth.

“Would you set aside your inferiority complex for one minute and try to understand how she truly feels? Right now, at the very least, you aren’t the strong older sister she longs for.”

Nieshima didn’t respond.

“Even though you left the island, you’re still one of my beloved miko,” the snake continued. “I won’t allow you to give up partway through your journey to wallow in despair.”

Covering her face, Nieshima sank to the ground and started to sob.

A moment later, the white snake unwound itself from Dr. Fukuda’s arm, then slithered over to Nieshima to peer into her eyes. The two of them conversed for a long while, their words too quiet for us to hear.

🍁🍁🍁

AFTERWARD, Nieshima, accompanied by Dr. Fukuda and the snake deity, apologized to the Tenjin Ayakashi Neighborhood Council. She promised to compensate the ayakashi she’d harmed and to dedicate her spiritual energy to community service for a fixed period of time. Before then, however, she would return to the island of her birth to discuss her future with her family.

As for me, I stopped clocking in at night and returned to working normal business hours.

A few days after that, on a sunny, midsummer afternoon, Dr. Fukuda visited our office. Large owl’s wings extended from his back. He still wore round, gold-rimmed glasses, and his long, silver hair had been tied into a loose ponytail. Despite how eye-catching he appeared to me, the mirror portrayed an ordinary man with short, black hair. I still hadn’t gotten used to that phenomenon.

He turned to me while munching on a large piece of strawberry-filled daifuku. “You had a rough go of it too, eh?”

“No, not at all,” I said. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner, especially after you helped me leave my last company.”

“Think nothing of it. Legal consultation is my job. Besides, I’m hard to catch, constantly flying from one case to another.”

Well, you are an owl, after all! I wanted to quip. Somehow though, I kept the comment to myself. “So, um, what will Nieshima do from here on out?”

“At the very least, she’ll struggle to find work as an exorcist in this lifetime,” Dr. Fukuda replied. “Every so often, there are humans who think they can treat ayakashi however they like. And as you know, some ayakashi do the same to humans. Fundamentally, humans and ayakashi on the Near Shore influence each other’s behavior.”

I left the reception room after that, since Shinozaki and Dr. Fukuda had other business to discuss. Just before closing the door, I heard Dr. Fukuda say, “Well then, shall we discuss the next matter at hand, Lord Shino?”

Shino?

Holding my breath, I turned back toward the door, still balancing the tray of daifuku. I had initially figured “Shino” was a nickname, a former name, but their exchange confirmed my growing suspicion: Shinozaki’s current, real name was Shino.

“I really don’t know anything about him…” I murmured as I resumed descending the stairs. “Still, I don’t need to know everything as his fan, right? I’m not interested in celebrities’ real names, yearbook pictures, or anything like that. Whatever he chooses to reveal about himself is good enough for me.”

My fingers tight on the tray, I mumbled such excuses to myself. Yet the bite mark on my neck stung ever so sweetly, mocking my attempts at composure.

🍁🍁🍁

OBLIQUE sunlight suffused the empty office; the midsummer sunset was blinding. As I stood to close the blinds, Shinozaki reentered the room.

“How about a break?” he asked, holding up a package. “We can eat the leftover strawberry daifuku together.”

“Oh, wow, really?” My stomach had just begun rumbling for dinner.

“Hurry up. There’s only enough for the two of us.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much! Would you like something to drink?”

“Is there any barley tea left?”

“Yep. I’ll brew some up for us.”

We sat side by side at the conference table with our treats and tea. The strawberry inside the daifuku was so big that it nearly popped out on my first bite. I had bought the variety of mochi as a gift before but never eaten it myself, and the late-afternoon sweets really hit the spot.

Shinozaki glanced at the transit card case hanging from my desk. “The shield really came in handy, huh?”

I smiled sheepishly. “It sure did. Still, I wouldn’t mind having a less silly amulet.” Part of me could understand why Nieshima had thought it a prank at first.

Shinozaki responded with an enigmatic smile, the corners of his mouth barely twitching. “On the contrary, I like how amateurish it seems. If you started fumbling around with a real miko’s amulet, then…”

“Then?”

“Looking too much like a miko might land you in unnecessary danger. It would defeat the purpose.”

“That makes sense.”

An indescribable ache squeezed my chest. He was hiding something. But what boss didn’t hide a hundred different things from his staff? Nor were we close friends.

Yeah… I’m just his employee. Nothing more.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, cocking his head suspiciously. “Cat got your tongue?”

I looked at him. As I studied his golden eyes and sharp cheekbones, he swallowed a bite of daifuku and licked his lips. My face grew warm, and I glanced away, stiffening in my seat.

Shinozaki stood and poured me another cup of barley tea. “Here,” he said, handing it to me.

Breaking free from my paralysis, I reached for it. “Th-Thank you very—”

Before I could grasp the cup, Shinozaki lifted my chin and kissed me.

It was the perfect ambush. With a silent squeal, my mind went blank. My entire body flushed with heat as though a sweet fire had ignited at my very core. I hadn’t understood the sensation during our first kiss, but suddenly I was vividly aware of spiritual energy draining from my every cell.

As I shuddered, Shinozaki leaned in to press his lips more firmly against mine. I grabbed his shirt, melting into the kiss with a sigh.

In all likelihood, our lips merely brushed for less than a second. Yet I felt as though he kissed me for five years.

When our lips parted, he backed away from me, and I reflexively snatched his sleeve. Our eyes met. I could see myself reflected in his golden irises.

“Shinozaki,” I said.

“Sorry for startling you.”

“No, it’s fine. This is a little frustrating, though.”

“What is?”

I frowned. “Why is it always and only me falling apart over every kiss?”

“Always? We’ve only kissed twice.”

“Exactly! We’ve kissed two times!”

“I am sorry about this.” He ruffled my hair. “Really, I mean it.”

His casual touch and kind gaze should have bothered me but didn’t. That frustrated me even more. “Do you feel… anything other than sorry?”

“Anything else? Oh, you’re wondering if I forgot our deal. Don’t worry, my tail is all yours.”

“Um, that’s not what I meant, but… Sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying either.”

How did I even want him to respond?

When Shinozaki proffered his tail, I buried my hands in its fur, enjoying the soft sensation between my fingers. All the while, guilt gnawed at me for trying to force an answer.

“Kaede,” Shinozaki said after a long while. “How could I not feel anything? Still, this is the only way I can absorb your spiritual energy. I really am sorry about that.”

I could tell how much care Shinozaki put into kissing me. He always waited until the office was empty. He kissed me unexpectedly so I wouldn’t suffer from nerves. Likewise, he always kissed me delicately to show that the act had no deeper meaning. And of course, he let me touch his tail to my heart’s content.

He couldn’t help me without kissing me; we had no other choice. So why was I struggling so much when he was showing me all the concern in the world?

“You have your own life,” he said. “Being kissed by your boss probably makes you feel sick to your stomach, but…just think of it as being bitten by a fox and strike it from memory. Someday, you can overwrite it with a proper first kiss.”

“Overwrite it?”

“I’m sorry,” he said one last time. He picked up the empty plate and left the office.

How do I want Shinozaki to feel about me?

As I sat alone, pressing a hand to my lips, I had a flash of insight.

“Now I see,” I murmured. “I don’t want an apology. I want to know how he feels about kissing me.”

Shinozaki had made his concern for my feelings abundantly clear. He’d even explained his thought process.

And yet…

I still had no idea how he felt.

🍁🍁🍁

KEIKO Nieshima waited at the harbor. She bit her nails, her brooding expression clashing with the cloudless blue sky. The boat bound for her family home would arrive before too long. She couldn’t bear the idea of returning to her homeland in such a pathetic state.

“Hello there, Nieshima,” said a girl’s elegant voice.

Turning around, Nieshima found a beautiful, black-haired girl in a dazzlingly white dress. The girl’s limbs were unnaturally pale beneath the summer sun, while her hair, swaying in the ocean breeze, was as dark as the night sky.

Nieshima’s eyes widened, for she had just glimpsed something not meant to be seen. “You…” she mumbled.

“Thank you,” the girl replied. “Everything I’ve accomplished has been thanks to you.” Without a sound, she approached Nieshima and embraced the miko tightly in her bone-white arms.

Nieshima stared at the girl in stupefaction.

The girl, meanwhile, stood on her tiptoes, bringing her face close to Nieshima’s. Then she kissed Nieshima, who let out a silent scream.

A few moments later, the miko collapsed on top of the wharf.

“Disgusting,” the beautiful girl spat. “What’s with this unpleasant aftertaste in her spiritual energy? That’s what you get for half-assing your sadhana.”

The girl glanced down at Nieshima, grimacing and wiping her lips. The woman had already passed out.

“Well, whatever,” she sniffed. “Now she’ll return to the island without a fuss.”

The beautiful girl picked up her lace parasol, opened it, and twirled it playfully as she left the harbor. She rode a bus to the train station. From there, she made several transfers bound for Tenjin.

Despite her abnormal beauty, no passersby paid her any heed as she strode through the nighttime crowds of Tenjin. Eventually, she arrived in front of a house in a residential area of Higashi Ward. The two-story property, meticulously cared for, looked around fifteen years old.

As the beautiful girl lurked in the shadows, a woman in a job-hunting suit rounded the corner. The woman unlocked the front door with a practiced hand and disappeared inside. Her mother, a homemaker, must have been waiting for her, since warm light and the appetizing scent of dinner drifted from the windows. Overall, the home was the very portrait of happiness.

After watching the defenseless woman disappear behind the door, the beautiful girl cracked a smile. “Kaede,” she said aloud. “You look well. I’m so glad you’re getting along with Shino too.”

Her smartphone vibrated. Still smiling, she tapped the screen to answer.

🍁🍁🍁

OVER four hundred years before, Shino, the shapeshifting fox of Chikushino, was dreaming. It was 1602, the seventh year of the Keichō era, and he dreamed that he was playing like a child in a castle at the foot of Mount Tachibana.

“Shino!” a young miko cried. “Look! I’ve grown a tail!” Sticking a blade of silver grass into the sash of her kimono, she shook her hips to mimic Shino’s wagging tails.

Shino rolled his eyes. “What in the world are you doing, Sakura?”

“Come, Sakura,” said Ginchiyo. “Tails alone do not make a fox. Allow me to place ears upon your head as well.”

“Wow, thank you so much!”

“There’s no need to humor her, my lady,” Shino said.

Ginchiyo laughed softly. “Why spoil an opportunity for fun? Oh, and Sakura, you need five tails to imitate Shino.”

“Yikes!” Sakura squealed. “That tickles!”

Still smiling, Ginchiyo added four more stalks of grass to Sakura’s sash, then tied beanbags to her hair for ears. Other handmaidens and female kitsune surrounded them, fondly watching the young girls play.

Sakura—the miko—was Shino’s master. Her name was Japanese for “cherry blossom,” and thus evoked a sense of the ephemeral. It suited her, for she’d grown into a cheerful, energetic girl who didn’t fret needlessly.

Similarly, the character gin in Ginchiyo meant “one who speaks respectfully,” and the lady had developed a strong concept of self just like her father.

“Still,” Shino said, “why are you imitating a fox in the first place?”

“Because I’m going to be your wife someday,” Sakura declared. “I have to start practicing now!”

“Practicing, eh…?”

Shino’s young master smiled innocently.

The castellan of Tachibanayama Castle, Dōsetsu Bekki, had encouraged Shino to form a contract with Sakura. As a six-hundred-year-old fox, Shino had initially regarded her as nothing more than an adorable, naïve child.

And yet—

The dreamscape shifted.

An adult Sakura smiled beneath the gentle sunlight, gazing down at Hakata from the castle.

“Shino,” she said. “Lady Ginchiyo’s wedding ceremony was beautiful, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed,” he replied.

“Her Ladyship is happy, and I have you. What more could I ask for?”

Although the miko could never have one of her own, she celebrated Ginchiyo’s marriage from the bottom of her heart.

In the end, we’re nothing more than a human and a shapeshifting fox.

Shino recalled Sakura’s innocent profession of love as a child. He’d expected her to someday mate with a human man and forget all about it. Yet even as an adult, Sakura hadn’t budged. She still insisted that she wanted to marry him.

“I love you, Shino.”

When she proclaimed her love for him again as a woman, Shino’s mind began to change. He longed to marry her as well, no different from a human man.

A union between human and kitsune was unheard of. Yet, by the time Sakura appeared the same age as Shino, the people of Tachibana no longer viewed them as the miko and her fox. Instead, they were celebrated as the perfect pair.

“What’s wrong with being in love?” Muneshige himself had asked. “My parents are the happiest couple I’ve ever known.”

Sakura blushed happily each time she received such well-wishes.

Shino didn’t mind the attention either.

🍁🍁🍁

“LORD Fox,” a familiar voice said. “Lord Fox.”

“Hm…?” mumbled Shino.

He woke from a light slumber inside his hokora, a miniature shrine. The estate’s samurai stood in front of it. Shino manifested himself outside the hokora, scowling at the interruption to his pleasant dream.

“You have a visitor,” the samurai said. “It’s a rather young woman claiming to be your older sister.”

“Yes, that’s her,” said Shino. “I’ll go now.” After adjusting his garments, he strode down a corridor open to the autumn wind. Before long, he reached the room where his sister waited.

At that time, Shino lived in a small shrine on the estate of a Kuroda retainer. The estate, in turn, sat beneath Fukuoka Castle.

Shino recalled the events of sixteen years before, in 1586, the fifteenth year of the Tenshō era. After Toyotomi Hideyoshi conquered Kyushu, a major reconstruction project was carried out in Hakata. The city had been reduced to ashes numerous times, and the merchants stubbornly rebuilt it over and over again, just as they would Hakata Gate from the rubble of Hideyoshi’s war.

As the merchants toiled to repair the city, the samurai houses responsible for protecting Hakata underwent multiple changes. After the Tachibana clan’s forcible relocation to Yanagawa Castle near Chikugo, their former stronghold Tachibanayama Castle was abandoned. Instead, the new feudal lords of Chikuzen, the Kobayakawa clan, erected Najima Castle as their base of power.

Following the Battle of Sekigahara, however, leadership switched once more. Kuroda, a powerful foreign clan, laid claim to Chikuzen, demolished Najima Castle, and established Fukuoka Castle on the western edge of Hakata. Eventually, the site would come to house Kego Shrine.

Two factions dominated the area: the samurai of Fukuoka and merchants of Hakata. In that divided realm, Shino was enshrined on the estate of a Kuroda retainer. After all, he’d served as a battlefield familiar for a samurai house. Likewise, he’d lived in Chikushino for six hundred years as a shapeshifting fox. So he looked after ayakashi without refuge and assisted the Kuroda warriors, who were unfamiliar with the region. Those two roles were sufficient to fill the void left in Sakura’s absence.

But—

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he muttered as he crossed the vast estate.

During the Battle of Sekigahara, his former masters, the Tachibana, had sided with the Western Army. As a result, they’d been deprived of land and title, and Lady Ginchiyo sentenced to quiet exile in the village of Nagasu with her mother and several handmaidens.

Shino knew nothing more than that. Naturally, he felt concern for Sakura and Ginchiyo, yet he couldn’t return to them. Hideyoshi detested ayakashi. Furthermore, he detested feudal lords who made unnecessary use of ancient familiars in battle.

The kitsune that once served the Tachibana had become divine messengers of Inari Ōkami. They’d transformed into beings of a different order than Shino. If he, a mere shapeshifting fox, appeared before Ginchiyo, only more conflict could follow. In fact, of the peasants of Yanagawa, those who’d revered Ginchiyo enough to provide her monetary tribute, had been crucified in punishment.

A familiar woman stood in the drawing room. She wore an elegant, short-sleeved kimono over her narrow shoulders—she must have changed out of her traveling garb. His older sister had five tails, large velvety ears, and long hair the same golden brown as his.

“Tsukushi,” Shino said.

His sister, Tsukushi, smiled wanly. “You look well.”

“I am. And you?”

“Just as. Unlike humans, we foxes don’t change much. It’s barely been ten years since we last saw each other.” She sat, shrugging, then shook her head before meeting his gaze again. “Shino. Have you heard the news? Lord Muneshige has gone to the capital to petition for his reinstatement as a samurai.”

Shino nodded. “Such rumors reached my ears.” He’d heard that Ginchiyo’s husband, accompanied by his retainers, planned to ask the Tokugawa clan for a new position. “Wait… Has Lord Muneshige been reinstated?!”

“Hardly. It’s all but hopeless at this point. The Katō clan of Higo Province have seized most of his men.”

“I see… In that case, why did you come here?”

“I’m going to the capital to inform Lord Muneshige about Lady Ginchiyo,” Tsukushi said. “Which gave me the perfect opportunity to see you along the way.”

“Inform him…about Lady Ginchiyo?”

His sister looked directly into his eyes, her lips tight.

“Tsukushi?” he asked. “Don’t tell me…”

“Lady Ginchiyo has been laid to rest.”

Her words reverberated through his body like a gong. He’d known. A foreboding had haunted him since the moment Tsukushi arrived.

“She took ill last year,” his sister said, “but conceded the divine favor of Inari Ōkami to Lord Muneshige, to assist with his reinstatement. She endured her sickness alone the entire time. We called upon priests and healers, doing everything in our power to save her, but alas… A string of cold days worsened her condition yet further.”

“I see,” Shino murmured, his head spinning.

The smile of the strong lady castellan flitted through his mind. She’d been beautiful, dignified, and ever optimistic.

“If only I could’ve seen her one last time,” he said.

“She missed you as well,” replied Tsukushi. “She never stopped regretting her role in tearing you and Sakura apart.”

“There was no need for such regret.” Shino and Sakura’s decision had been theirs alone. Ginchiyo had no reason to bear any guilt.

“Wait,” Shino said, jerking his head up. “What happened to Sakura?”

Tsukushi bit her lip, her eyes widening. After a deep breath, she said, “Sakura passed away shortly before Lady Ginchiyo. She bore a curse directed at the lady, lost her sanity, and…and fell into a well.”

Chapter 4: Dazaifu and the Hot Springs of Futsukaichi: A Forgotten Friend, a Business Rival, and Repressed Emotions

Chapter 4: Dazaifu and the Hot Springs of Futsukaichi: A Forgotten Friend, a Business Rival, and Repressed Emotions

THE rainy season had ended in northern Kyushu, and I was riding the train to Dazaifu on a clear, midsummer day.

The city boasted a variety of tourist attractions: the well-known Dazaifu Tenmangū Shrine; Sakamoto Hachimangū, a shrine said to be where the current era’s name of Reiwa originated; Kyushu National Museum; and Kamado Shrine, whose ema stands were a trendy pilgrimage site for fans of a certain demon slayer.

Dazaifu was once the center of politics in Fukuoka and remained an iconic part of the prefecture. Tourists crowded the train even on weekdays. I looked around the railcar—not enough to be rude—and breathed a sigh of wonder. Ayakashi had become increasingly visible as I approached Tenmangū Shrine. People with animal ears. Women with legs that fazed in and out of existence. I even spotted a man with octopus tentacles instead of limbs and an older gentleman with incredibly long hair.

I never knew this many ayakashi existed.

According to Shinozaki, his spiritual energy usually prevented me from seeing most ayakashi.

After deboarding, I walked down the sunlit road to Tenmangū Shrine. I was heading to a café where I would meet our clients.

Shinozaki had carried on with work as usual following our second kiss, unruffled as ever. I, meanwhile, felt awkward merely being in the same room as him. I had to switch off the television whenever couples started to kiss in dramas. I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss, yet Shinozaki had essentially told me to forget about it. Was that how he really felt? Just the thought caused my chest to ache. Although I couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason for my sadness, a sense of gloom clouded my mind.

Earlier that day, he’d asked me, “So, are you used to it yet?”

“Not in the slightest,” I’d replied.

“Really? I figured you’d be pretty comfortable with the job by now.”

“Huh?!” My cheeks flushed. “You were talking about work?!”

“What else would I be talking about?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Anyway, we have a case in Dazaifu that I want you to handle. The client is a former human, so whether he’s an ayakashi or not is up for debate… Still, I want you to help him with his job’s onboarding process. I’ve already gone over the particulars with him, so all you have to do is help file him the paperwork and confirm everything one last time on his end.”

“You…want me to do it alone?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

I’d overseen the case of Shizuku, the iso-onna from Itoshima, immediately after joining the company, yes. But that had turned out to be an irregular occurrence. Kiyone, a hamahime in Shizuku’s community, invited me to Itoshima under the pretext of meeting the newbie. For other jobs, Shinozaki had almost always accompanied me. And although the majority of the Dazaifu case was already settled, I would be handling the rest by myself for the first time.

“By the way…” I ventured. “That one guyis in Dazaifu, right? Do you know him?”

“‘That one guy’?”

“Sugawa—”

Shinozaki slapped a hand over my mouth. “Don’t say his name!” he shouted, the blood draining from his face.

“Mmmph?!”

I’d been trying to say Sugawara no Michizane. After his death, the famous scholar, poet, and politician was deified as Tenjin.

“Listen,” Shinozaki said. “So long as you’re in this line of work, never utter that man’s name lightly.”

“M-Mmph.”

“He’s a powerful being with the most influence in modern Fukuoka, understand?”

I gasped for air when Shinozaki finally removed his hand from my mouth. “H-He’s that incredible, huh?”

“If someone with spiritual prowess so much as mutters his name by accident, a curse might befall them. That’s the sort of man we’re dealing with. Our company refers to him as ‘Professor M’ to be absolutely certain of our safety.”

At one point in history, Sugawara no Michizane had been regarded as a vengeful spirit rather than a benign deity.

“Professor M?” I repeated. “How would you even guess his actual name based on that?”

“When you’re in Dazaifu, his spiritual energy will erode the filter I’ve placed on you,” Shinozaki said, ignoring my question. “The one that makes ayakashi’s true forms hard to see. Think of Dazaifu as the undiluted essence of Lord Tenjin’s domain.”

“Undiluted essence? Seriously?”

“Tenjin Station—this area, in other words—is the center of Tenjin, right?”

“Right.”

Originally part of the feudal town built in the shadow of Fukuoka Castle, Tenjin was the premier shopping and nightlife district in Fukuoka. After the Meiji Restoration, department stores, schools, government offices, and coal magnates’ mansions sprouted around Suikyō Tenmangū Shrine. Later, the private railway stop Fukuoka Tenjin Station opened, and Tenjin immediately transformed into a bustling shopping district.

“Truth be told…” said Shinozaki. “The domain of Lord Tenjin, which extends from Dazaifu to Suikyō Tenmangū, is connected by spiritual ley lines.”

“Wait, really?!”

“It’s quite common to shape the flow of spiritual energy when developing a city. Edo incorporated principles of feng shui into its design, in case you didn’t know.”

“Interesting.”

“And because of that…” He stared into the distance. “Well, train lines sometimes lead to stations in another realm.”

🍁🍁🍁

AND so, I was visiting Dazaifu by myself.

As Shinozaki had instructed, I entered an old-fashioned café along the road to Dazaifu Tenmangū Shrine. An employee in a historic, Taishō-era uniform led me to a seat on the second floor.

I waited a short while before two men in crisp suits joined me. One appeared to be a young man in his twenties. The other man seemed to be an older executive. Both radiated an air of dignity and stood straight-backed as though trained in martial arts. Could they be samurai?

In any case, we exchanged formal greetings and took our seats.

“As President Shinozaki already explained, you’ll be serving as the head priest of a Buddhist temple,” I said. “Please take a look at your employment contract.”

The young man was the one seeking employment. I placed a tablet and some physical documents in front of the pair. The paperwork, along with various other matters in need of confirmation, proceeded smoothly from there.

“Don’t mind me,” urged the older gentleman with a smile. “I’m merely serving as an attendant today.”

“Sorry about this, milord,” said the young man. “I made you come all this way just because I’m new to this whole process.”

“Think nothing of it. I never mind the occasional excuse to visit a human dwelling and talk to people… Ah, see here? This is the furigana field. Write your name in hiragana.”

“Yes, sir!”

As the young man filled out the forms, I glanced at my tablet. According to the information Shinozaki had provided, the two men were warriors who’d died around four hundred years before. Wow, they really are samurai, huh?

The main sanctuary of Dazaifu Tenmangū Shrine had burned down during the Sengoku period, I remembered from my history classes in school. Wasn’t there a sword enshrined in the treasure house that belonged to Sugawara no Mi…um, Professor M? Pretty sure the sword burned to a crisp along with the sanctuary. These ayakashi must have been alive then, I realized. Wait, are they even ayakashi?

“Um…” I hesitated. “May I ask a potentially rude question?”

“I don’t mind,” the gentleman answered kindly. “What is it?”

“It’s a bit embarrassing, but I still don’t understand what defines an ayakashi. You two were originally humans, right? How are you, um, classified now?”

“Well, we’re similar to divinities.” He gave me a wry smile and took a leisurely sip of coffee. “I don’t know how to describe it well myself.”

The younger man continued in his stead. “So, some of us dead folk start wondering, ‘Are my descendants doing all right? Maybe I’ll stick around and watch over them before passing on.’ And just like that, we wind up enshrined, prayed to, and deified. Happens more often than you’d think. And since we’re able to stay on the Near Shore for so long, we might as well work a little and help people out, right?”

“Of course, some souls are reincarnated,” the gentleman clarified. “But other souls can detach from samsara, the cycle of life and death, through worship. Those like us remaining on the Near Shore are something akin to enlightened beings.”

“Wow, that’s fascinating.”

“The coffee on the Near Shore is wonderful, and the sweets are just as good,” the gentleman said. “Nothing beats living a long life.”

“I see…”

From shapeshifting foxes to deified humans. At this point, what isn’t an ayakashi? There’s a lot to learn about them.

“By the way,” I said to the young man, “do you have any issues with the sect President Shinozaki chose?”

“None whatsoever,” he replied. “If you must know, I followed in my lord’s footsteps and became a monk during my mortal life. So you can count on this lesser Buddha to lead prayers to the Buddha!”

“Oh, um, okay.”

“Ghost joke,” the gentleman said with a chuckle, his expression slightly troubled. “Don’t mind him.”

His decorous aura was almost suffocating. My attempt at a polite smile turned tense and awkward.

🍁🍁🍁

“WELL then,” I said, “we’ll meet again next week at the temple.”

“Looking forward to it,” the young man replied.

“Incidentally…” The gentleman smiled fondly at me, a twinkle in his serene eyes. “Is Shino well? Truth be told, I came because I was hoping to see him.”

“Shino?” I repeated.

“Oh, that’s right,” the gentleman said with a laugh. “He goes by Shinozaki now.”

“So…President Shinozaki’s actual name really is Shino?”

“Indeed. Though he hardly ever spends time with people who know his past. Can’t say I blame him for that.”

“Does that mean he actively avoids his old acquaintances…?” I murmured.

“Lady Kaede.” The gentleman regarded me, his eyes still lit with amusement. “Are you fond of Shino, by chance?”

“Huh? Oh, um, well…”

He chuckled. “No need to answer. But as long as Shino has you, I’m sure he’ll be okay.” After giving me another warm smile, he glanced out the window. “Oh, my wife is here.”

“Your wife?”

“Yes. I told her she needn’t come out in this heat, but apparently she grew tired of waiting.”

I followed his gaze outside. Below, a woman carrying a lace parasol strolled toward the café. I could barely make out her face.

“My lord and lady are going on a diet later,” the young man said.

Is he mixing up his English?

“Oh, a date?” I guessed. “How wonderful.”

The young man and I exchanged a quiet laugh. Then, with the conversation over, the three of us rose and left the café.

“We’ll see you soon,” the gentleman said. “Give Shino my regards.”

“See you at the temple, Kikui!” the young man added.

“Of course!” I replied. “Thank you so much for coming out today!”

The two samurai strode to the woman with the parasol. The gentleman and his wife seemed such a happy couple that even watching them from behind warmed my heart.

“So…” I mumbled as the trio disappeared into the distance. “They’re old acquaintances of Shinozaki, huh?”

Shinozaki knew people from four hundred years in the past. The realization filled me with wonder. Personally, I had no idea what my ancestors had been doing back then—

“Kaede,” called a familiar voice.

Jolting, I spun around to find my childhood friend in a white dress. “Tsukushi!” I cried.

She grinned at me, her long, black hair fluttering in the breeze. Tsukushi and I had been close friends ever since we met in nursery school.

The lunch hour had just started, so after checking in with Shinozaki, I decided to spend my break walking around Dazaifu Tenmangū Shrine with Tsukushi.

“Gosh, it’s been so long!” I exclaimed. “I’m so happy we ran into each other. I’ve barely seen you lately.”

“I know,” she said. “Honestly, I’ve had a lot on my plate recently… Speaking of which, did you change jobs?”

“Oh, you can tell? I sure did.”

Eventually, the road to the shrine veered off at a ninety-degree angle. We followed it, passing the sculpture of a divine bull, which was a popular spot for pictures. Then, crossing an arched bridge over the shinji-ike, a pond shaped like the kanji for “heart,” we continued toward the main sanctuary.

“I’ve been dying to see you for a long time now,” Tsukushi said.

“That’s quite an honor,” I giggled.

“Actually, I came here because I had a feeling we would run into each other.”

“Um, is Dazaifu really where you go when hoping to cross paths with someone?”

Even if we’d planned to meet there, the crowds would have swallowed us before any rendezvous. Tsukushi’s notion might have made sense had I’d grown up in Dazaifu, yet I hardly ever left my birthplace of Higashi Ward. We’d never once seen each other in Dazaifu.

“And yet I still found you, didn’t I?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Her long, black hair whipped in the wind as her tinkling laughter filled the air. “It must be fate.”

“A fateful reunion with my girl Tsukushi? My heart just skipped a beat.”

Tsukushi had been as lovely as a doll since we were children. She was a gorgeous woman, and I’d always admired her ethereal beauty and manner. She looked like the words fair maiden given life.

As we ascended a second arched bridge, our conversation turned to recent matters.

“So,” Tsukushi said, “everything going swimmingly at your new job?”

“Yep. Well, for the most part.”

“Swimmingly” might not be the perfect description, considering my feelings of late.

Of course, Tsukushi called out my vague response. “I’m sensing a deeper implication there,” she said. “Did something happen, perchance?”

“Well, um…”

“Spill it.” She stared into my eyes, batting her long lashes. “Your big sis is all ears.”

I’d never been a good liar. Words failed me, and unable to form an answer, I picked up the pace as we mounted the last bridge.

“All right then, keep your secrets,” she said. “You can tell me about it later.”

“Okay…”

After a ceremonial handwashing, we concluded our journey in front of the worship hall of the main sanctuary, where we each bought an omikuji. The paper fortunes sold at Dazaifu Tenmangū Shrine were different colors depending on the season; they were a pale blue that day.

“I got a midlevel blessing,” Tsukushi said, unrolling hers first. “Mine says, ‘It will take some persistence, but your efforts will be rewarded.’ What about yours?”

“Hold on a second. My finger got caught in the string.”

Prying at it for a moment with my nail, I finally managed to open the scroll, then cheered upon seeing the words “great blessing.”

“Yay! Um… It says, ‘The hardships you have endured shall be rewarded. Days of fulfillment reminiscent of blooming flowers await you.’”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. The rest is a bit ominous though. ‘However, the radiant sunlight will also illuminate farewells and new dilemmas. Don’t forget your humility even during times of prosperity.’ It also says, ‘Cherishing the people around you and revering your ancestors will lead to good fortune.’ In other words, I shouldn’t get a big head just because things are going well now, huh?”

The omikuji’s warning couldn’t have fit my current situation better. I felt as though Professor M was beaming guidance at me from somewhere on high.

“Tsukushi.” I sighed, releasing some of the haze in my heart. “Would you mind listening to me vent for a little bit?”

“Of course,” she replied, smiling at me fondly.

Ever since we were kids, I’d always gone to her for advice.

🍁🍁🍁

TSUKUSHI and I chose a tea shop along the road to Tenmangū. We sat on red-cushioned chairs, eating umegae mochi—rice cakes stamped with a plum blossom design—alongside our matcha tea.

“So…” she summarized, “you’re interested in your boss, but he also makes you uneasy because you’re not sure what kind of person he is. Does that sum things up?”

“Pretty much.”

I’d told her about my situation while glossing over anything ayakashi: President Shinozaki had helped me with my working relationships (spiritual energy leakage) and offered me a new job. He was a kind and reliable boss. What’s more, he was young (in appearance) and handsome, and the amount of time we spent in close quarters (I didn’t mention the kissing, of course) caused my heart to stutter.

Yet he didn’t seem as conscious of me as I was of him. Wouldn’t a normal man (he wasn’t a normal man) show more interest in me given our close proximity?

“Let me get this straight,” Tsukushi said. “Your handsome, competent boss spends enough time with you, his female employee, alone that you think he might be into you?”

“No, um, wait!” I protested. “I-I didn’t explain the situation properly! He isn’t like that!”

“Uh-huh. And now you’re defending him.” She jabbed her finger in my direction. “You don’t want anyone badmouthing your boss, do you?”

“N-Not really.”

“In other words, you really do like him, don’t you?”

I studied the iris pond beyond the window, unable to bear Tsukushi’s gaze. “Honestly… I’m not sure if I like him,” I admitted. “After all, I’ve never had a boyfriend. Maybe I just think I like him because he’s kind to me. The idea of falling for him scares me when I have no idea how he feels about me.”

“It scares you?”

“Yeah. I think so.” Talking with Tsukushi, I was finally starting to understand. That’s right. I’m scared of falling for Shinozaki.

“So… Is that because you’re afraid he lives in a completely different world from you? As a company president?”

“Something like that.”

Shinozaki and I did live in different worlds. That was why I couldn’t comprehend his perspective. How much easier would the situation have been if we were both humans with a normal lifespan?

“Hmm.” Tsukushi placed a hand under her chin and mumbled, “I see.” Sinking into contemplation, she stared into the distance, her long lashes glittering in the light. I’d always loved her expression during such times.

“All right,” she said. “I’ve made up my mind. Times like this call for a survey.”

“A survey?”

“Yep.” She pulled her phone out of her handbag, her porcelain fingers dancing across the screen. “We need to ask several typical women how they feel about this.”

“Wh-What are you doing?”

“I’m contacting our friends in Fukuoka. Ideally, we can all go out drinking tonight.”

“You’re moving way too fast!”

“No time like the present, right?” Tsukushi looked directly into my eyes, her expression serious. “You’re my dear childhood friend. I’ve looked out for you since we were kids. The least I can do is help you out, no?” She grinned.

How could I argue with that miraculous beauty, that smile? “O-Okay.”

Replies dinged one after another. That the hour was lunchtime on a Friday must have helped.

“Looks like everyone can make it,” said Tsukushi cheerfully as she inspected the phone screen. “Wonderful. Are you going back to the office now? I’ll contact you when the workday ends.”

Her formidable momentum brooked no argument. I would be going out that night.

After returning to the office, I wrote my report and took care of the miscellaneous paperwork. And all of sudden, night had fallen.

I hadn’t gone out drinking in quite some time. For that reason, Tsukushi picked a lowkey pub near my house in Higashi Ward. The popular locations in Tenjin would be fully booked, but her selection, just outside the city’s center, was relatively empty. It was also cheap and, most importantly, delicious.

As soon as we sat down, everyone started to argue about the order.

“Let’s start out with…thirty salted chicken skin skewers and dipping sauce! How does that sound?”

“Hey! Can’t we order something a little cuter? Like pan-fried yam cake!”

“Sure, if you want to eat a brick of carbs. I’m having beer!”

“Sake for me!”

I hadn’t seen the lively group of women since high school. Strangely, all of them were completely at home in the pub.

“Honestly, I can’t hold my liquor to save my life,” I admitted.

One of my friends smiled at me endearingly. “Oh, Kaede, you haven’t changed a bit.”

My face flushed a little at that.

Tsukushi, seated gracefully among the group of working women, smiled at me as well. Her ethereal beauty seemed even more pronounced in a bar setting.

“It’s been too long, Kaede,” a friend said. “Congrats on finding a new job.”

“You were always busy when we invited you out,” another friend added. “We were worried about you.”

“Thanks, everyone,” I replied. “And sorry for worrying you.”

“So?” a friend asked. “Spill it already! Has Cupid’s arrow finally struck?!”

“Right, right!” another exclaimed. “What happened?!”

“U-Um… It’s kind of a long story, but…”

I recited the same rundown I’d given Tsukushi. Hopefully, this will satisfy their curiosity. Because I’d never discussed my nonexistent love life before, everyone listened intently. When I finished speaking, my friends exchanged glances, my story seeming to have sobered them.

“Um, Kaede,” one said. “That guy sounds…sketchy.”

“Are you sure that office is safe?” another friend asked. “Your boss isn’t sexually harassing you, right?”

“You can’t trust hot guys,” a third friend pronounced. “Speaking of which, is your boss single?”

“Huh?” I asked. The eminently practical question caused me to blink in surprise.

My friends’ expressions grew even more doubtful.

“I…think he’s single?” I ventured.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I gasped, recalling the mark of his master-servant bond on his chest. The flash of memory sent ice creeping down my spine.

“I could also absorb your spiritual energy by forming a contract with you,” he’d said. “But unfortunately, I already belong to someone else.”

What had he meant by that? He never spoke about his master. Could the person who’d etched that faint sigil on his chest be important to him?

Even when I was a kid, my hunches tended to be right. And that usually spelled bad news for me.

“You think he’s single?” my friend repeated. “So, you haven’t asked him directly?”

“No…”

“Seriously, Kaede, only get involved with him if he’s single. What’s the point of having a relationship if you can’t get married?”

My friends, clearly worried about me, began to opine on all things love and romance.

“We’re still young, sure, but the years fly by once you start working. I’m actually giving dating apps a shot.”

“Whoa, you’re not scared of meeting up with strangers?”

“Just because a friend introduces you to a guy doesn’t mean he’s safe either.”

“True. My boyfriend and I are living together now. I keep wondering when he might pop the question.”

“Oh! Is someone going to be a wifey soon?!”

“Heh. Well, if things go according to plan.”

Their conversation overwhelmed me. My friends were truly incredible. A single kiss sent me reeling, while they’d already moved on to a different stage of life.

“Oh, Kaede, don’t worry about that,” someone said. “Keep moving at your own pace.”

“Seriously,” another friend reassured me, “just hearing you talk about love is a sign of growth.”

I laughed. “You think so?”

As I silently nibbled on salted yakitori and pork ribs, my worries gradually began to feel trivial and cliché. I would never be able to participate in discussions of marriage and children regardless; so long as I worked with ayakashi, I would never have that sort of normal life. On the contrary, after joining Shinozaki’s company, I’d vowed to protect the normal lives of ayakashi—and that desire hadn’t changed.

Hadn’t I always hoped for a normal life? I’d worked for a company near my family home because I wanted to cling to what was familiar.

But I forgot. Life keeps changing, no matter how much we wish it would stay the same.

Someday, I would grow old. My relationships with the people around me would change. My parents, the rest of my family, my friends wouldn’t remain the same forever.

I’d chosen a path that deviated from normalcy. Furthermore, I was passionate about that path. Suddenly, the idea of such an abnormal life filled me with dread.

And on top of that…

Shinozaki already had someone he cherished. Their bond had been etched into his skin for four hundred years.

“Are you okay, Kaede?” asked Tsukushi, noticing my silence. “Want to step outside for a bit of fresh air?”

“Sure…”

We exited the pub and looked up at the sky together. I couldn’t see a single star. Everything seemed distant, foreign. The commotion from other restaurants. Cars racing up and down the street. The hum of insects filling the summer night air. The streetlamps illuminating the shopping district.

“If only I had more romantic experience,” I murmured, studying the sky.

Tsukushi simply waited.

“I realized something while talking to you and everyone else,” I said. “I…think I do have feelings for President Shinozaki.”

It sounded so obvious when spoken out loud.

“Congratulations,” she said with a nod. “To realize how you feel is a wonderful thing. But Kaede… Your boss isn’t normal, is he? At the very least, you couldn’t tell us everything you know about him, right?”

“…Yeah.”

Until then, Tsukushi had listened without a word of criticism. She looked at me, solemn. “Then remember this: relying on love alone to bring people from different worlds together will only sow unhappiness.”

“Tsukushi…”

“You want to be normal, right? Living an abnormal existence day in and day out will only wear you down. There are a lot of problems that love alone can’t solve. Besides…”

“Besides?”

“If your boss isn’t normal, how do you know he’ll be able to accept your love? What if he already loves someone else?”

Her words pierced my chest.

That’s right. Shinozaki already has someone precious to him. And their relationship has lasted for over four hundred years.

“Thank you,” I said. “Talking to you always helps me see things more clearly. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied. “Promise me we’ll meet up again soon, okay?”

“Oh, it’s almost last call!” I exclaimed, checking the time on my phone with a start. “Let’s head back in!”

Tsukushi shook her head. “Go on without me. I want to enjoy the breeze a bit more.”

“Oh? Well, okay then. Shoot me a text if you want us to order you something!” I dashed back into the brightly lit pub.

At the time, I failed to perceive the strange shadow cast by the streetlight—that of Tsukushi with nine large, swishing tails.

🍁🍁🍁

AFTER my night out, the weekend passed in the blink of an eye. Monday arrived, and Shinozaki and I headed to Hakata Station. We would be escorting a woman seeking a live-in position at a hot spring resort in Futsukaichi. The establishment, of course, was one frequented by ayakashi.

I sat in the passenger’s seat while he drove us to the parking lot outside the Chikushi exit of the station. After unbuckling his seatbelt, he pulled out his tablet to catch up on correspondence as we waited.

“Having you on the team really helps during times like these,” he said to me. “A lot of female ayakashi don’t want to ride alone in a car with a man.”

“Yeah, a lot of women are uncomfortable around unfamiliar men,” I replied. “I’m glad I can help out.”

I’m trying my best to act normal, but is it working?

Ever since our recent kiss and my night at the pub, I felt awkward being alone with him.

“…We’re taking our client to Futsukaichi Onsen, right?” I asked.

“Correct. It’s an ancient hot spring that dates back over a thousand years to the Dazaifu government period. It’s a popular spot for those of our kind seeking work. After all, it has name recognition even among old ayakashi.”

“Yeah, that startled me a bit. As soon as we posted the job listing, applications came pouring in.”

Shinozaki nodded. “It was mentioned in The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, after all.”

The hot spring resort was seeking to fill just one position, and we’d received a startling number of responses. Emails, phone calls, and letters had only been the beginning… Disembodied voices spoke to us from empty air as well, and telepathic messages had beamed directly into our minds. The deluge of paranormal applications had been nothing short of chaotic.

“It’s a popular listing, to be sure, but there is one problem,” Shinozaki said.

“What’s that?”

“A rival business—another nearby hot spring resort—has been poaching employees.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded, frowning slightly. “The proprietor waits outside Hakata Station, makes his pitch, and steals the would-be employees. He’s famous, so his name carries a lot of weight.”

“He’s that much of a bigshot?”

“Indeed,” said Shinozaki with another nod. “Plus, his resort is in Saga.”

“Saga?”

I opened a map on my tablet. Fukuoka Prefecture formed a crooked greater-than sign near Dazaifu where the northern and southern halves of Chikuzen met, and its mouth bordered Saga Prefecture. Every major artery linking the two halves—the Kyushu Expressway, the Kyushu Shinkansen, and the Kagoshima Main Line—ran through Saga. To lure someone with the promise of such a nearby, convenient location would be incredibly easy.

Wait.

Futsukaichi, our destination, and Dazaifu were practically next door to each other. Shinozaki could visit Futsukaichi yet wouldn’t step foot in Dazaifu. What lengths would he go to in order to avoid his old acquaintances?

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Eep!” I squealed, startled out of my reverie.

“Don’t give me that. You’ve been spacing out for a while now. …Wanna touch my tail?”

“You say that like you’re offering candy to a child, but… Ugh, it’s so soft.” I nearly swooned when his tail brushed my cheek. As I surrendered to fluffiness, he addressed me in a somewhat serious tone.

“Something about you seems off today.”

“It’s nothing,” I replied. “I’m perfectly healthy. No fever or anything.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard if you’re feeling unwell. Go home early for the day if you need to. I can always ask Hainuzuka to be the female employee. You’ve been working nonstop through the summer. Why don’t you take a paid day off and—”

“No, really, I’m fine. I mean it.”

He sounded concerned, though I couldn’t see his expression as I ran my fingers over his tail. I glanced at his necktie. Why didn’t he loosen his collar or wear cooler clothes during the summer?

Oh, I thought, realization dawning on me. It’s because he doesn’t want people to see the sigil on his chest.

“If your boss isn’t normal, how do you know he’ll be able to accept your love?” Tsukushi had asked. “What if he already loves someone else?”

Her words echoed in my mind over and over again. Shinozaki treasured someone so much that he’d bound his soul to that person. Would my feelings for him only bring me pain?

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” he wheedled. “We have plenty of time until our appointment.”

I stayed silent.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll knock you out with a kiss and force you to go home early.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll spill it!”

My poor heart couldn’t handle another kiss. I scooched away from the hand he’d placed on my backrest.

“So…” I paused, scrambling to find an excuse. “I met two samurai clients the other day, remember?”

“Of course.”

“The older gentleman seemed worried about you. And I found out… Your real name is Shino, isn’t it?”

“People insist on calling me that, no matter how many times I tell them my name is Rai Shinozaki now.”

He admitted it far more readily than I’d expected.

“And for the record, Shino isn’t my real name either,” he said without prompting. “I received that name upon entering a master-servant contract. When I first gained power as a kitsune in the distant past, people worshipped me as a god of agriculture. So Shino, which means ‘purple field,’ was a fitting name, no? At any rate, I’ve had several names throughout my life, but I was most accustomed to the God of Chikushino. Thus, Shino.”

“You’re being way more forthcoming than I thought you’d be.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t answer your question?”

“You never tell me about the past,” I pointed out. “I didn’t even know you were acquaintances with that samurai.”

After our meeting in Dazaifu, I’d looked up the names of the gentleman samurai and his vassal. While I didn’t find anything on the younger man, the gentleman immediately popped up on Wikipedia. He was a historical figure from around four hundred years previous. The sight of the search result had sent a chill tingling down my spine.

Shinozaki really has lived for over four hundred years. He’d become impossibly distant in my mind after that revelation.

“I’ve noticed something off about you lately, but that’s all you were worried about?” Shinozaki shrugged. “Sorry about that. I didn’t have any ulterior motive for keeping quiet.”

“Okay…”

“If there’s anything else bothering you, ask me whatever you like.”

I checked my wristwatch. We had over fifteen minutes until the appointment. Had we arrived at the station early because he wanted to have a conversation with me? He’d even accounted for the possibility that I might feel unwell and ensured I would have time to decide before setting out on the long trip south.

He’s a kind person. That makes this time he set aside for us even more painful.

“Shinozaki,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still think about your master?”

Shinozaki stared at me, solemn, his golden eyes widening slightly. The melody of “Tōryanse” drifting from the crosswalk was nearly deafening in the silence between us.

“Why,” Shinozaki asked, his voice a little lower and hoarser than usual, “are you worried about that?”

“Do you love your former master?” I pressed.

A deathly chill filled the car.

“I…” He hesitated.

“Do you love your former master romantically?”

His gorgeous face flushed a bright, undeniable red. I’d figured he’d answer, “Yeah, of course I do,” in his usual carefree manner. But my question had rendered him speechless. He didn’t know how to answer me. And I realized the truth: Shinozaki loved his former master with all his heart.

“Shinozaki,” I said.

“Y-Yeah?”

“I made you kiss me because of my leaking spiritual energy…even though you love someone else.”

“…Huh?” He closed his eyes, unable to hide his panic. His behavior confirmed each and every one of my suspicions. “No, Kaede, wait,” he pleaded. “Just hold on.”

“You’ve already given your heart to someone else,” I said. “And yet, you still had to kiss—”

“Wait,” he interrupted. “Forget about me for just one minute. You’re the one who’s actually suffering because of our need to kiss, right?”

I shook my head. “No, forget about me. I never paused to consider your feelings because I was so caught up in it being my first kiss. Can you ever forgive me for not thinking about you at all?”

He’d done everything in his power to make sure I was okay afterward. But I should have been the one to make sure he was okay. He had someone else he would rather kiss, after all.

“I’m sorry,” I said, trying and failing to feign composure. “I feel so guilty that I might start crying. I-I’m going to the convenience store for a minute. Be back soon.”

“Hey, wait!” he exclaimed.

Forcing a smile onto my face, I fled to the restroom in front of the station. The tears started the instant I locked myself in a stall. I’d reached my breaking point.

“Hic…” I sobbed.

Shinozaki had kissed me, had absorbed my spiritual energy, to protect me and Tenjin at large. And I’d fallen for him. Could I have been a bigger nuisance?

“I’m such an idiot…” I wept. “I can’t cause him any more trouble than I already have.”

As I scrubbed at my endless tears, several versions of myself criticized me in an internal indictment.

“Crying out of self-pity?” the rational me asked in an exasperated tone. “Pathetic.”

“Crying in the middle of the day and inconveniencing your boss?” working adult me derided. “Could you sink any lower?”

“Are you the one who should be crying right now?” my conscience asked, perplexed. “Do you even care about him?”

I know.

I’d fallen for Shinozaki without any regard for him. I needed to be more conscientious of how my feelings burdened him. So I gave myself one minute to pull myself together. I set an alarm on my phone, bawled my eyes out, and blew my nose. When the alarm beeped, I flushed the tissue paper down the toilet, symbolically washing away my emotional turmoil as well.

“Okay…” I said with a deep sigh. “Time to put your nose back to the grindstone, Kaede!”

I had to prioritize work. Exiting the restroom, I raced back to the parking lot.

Abruptly, a van screeched to a stop between me and Shinozaki’s car, blocking my path.

“What?!” I squawked.

The vehicle appeared to be some sort of shuttle. Before I could read the text on its side, however, the driver rolled down the window.

“Ni hao!” he called in Chinese. “Are you alone? That’s some nice spiritual energy you’ve got there! Let’s add each other on social media! Weibo, LINE, or anything else!”

“Wh-What’s going on?!” I cried.

The man grinned at me, his eyes sparkling amiably behind stylish, round glasses. He wore traditional Chinese clothing with intricate embroidery, and his glossy, black hair was tinged with violet.

“Your spiritual energy is leaking quite nicely!” he said. “Are you the newbie at Shinozaki’s place, by chance?”

I floundered. “I, um, well… Hold on! Are you from that rival business I’ve heard about?!”

“Rival? Perish the thought! I simply offer a better deal than the other hot spring!”

The back door of the van opened, and a swarm of women in matching uniforms with mandarin collars flooded out.

“Wait—ah—hey!” I shrieked as the women began to drag me into the van. “Let go of me!”

“My, my, my,” the man tutted. “A parking lot is hardly the best place for a discussion, no? Let’s continue this conversation at my hot spring resort. I’ll treat you to a full spa day on the house!”

The women forced me into the van, and just like that, the rival businessman drove away.

🍁🍁🍁

I watched everything unfold in stunned disbelief from inside my car. Kaede had darted into the station restroom. As soon as she’d come out, that man had driven away with her.

“He couldn’t have shown up at a worse time,” I muttered.

I called Hainuzuka, asking her to meet the client in front of the station, then peeled off in pursuit. The kidnapper, Xu Fu, was an immortal human turned ayakashi, who’d opened a chain of hot spring resorts for our kind around Saga.

Fortunately, the spiritual energy imbuing Kaede’s transit card told me the direction Xu Fu’s car was headed, and I tailed him onto the municipal highway. Based on the interchange he’d used, he was bound for his resort in Futsukaichi.

I could sense Kaede through the card as well, and she showed no signs of being hurt. He probably intended to poach her. With proper training and her inherent spiritual energy, she could become the perfect massage therapist for ayakashi. The likes of Xu Fu would be desperate to recruit her.

I chased him toward Futsukaichi, and at each red light and stop in traffic, my chest squeezed in panic at the memory of Kaede’s sorrow.

“Do you love your former master?” she’d asked, her lip trembling. Racked with guilt over “forcing” me to kiss her.

“Idiot,” I said under my breath. “You’re the victim here, remember?”

No one had forced me to kiss Kaede; she had no reason to apologize. That she was born with powerful spiritual energy and frequently targeted by ayakashi wasn’t her fault. She was a victim of fate.

If anyone should have felt guilty, it was me. I’d kissed Kaede under the pretense of protection and, in doing so, stolen something precious from her. I wouldn’t have blamed her for despising me.

No. Part of me wanted her to despise me. I couldn’t bear to watch her fall prey to the supernatural and die.

Just as Sakura had.

“Not even I expected everything to get so screwed up,” I mumbled. Pausing at a red light, I leaned over the steering wheel with a deep sigh. When I closed my eyes, an image of Sakura, my former master, appeared before me.

“Sakura…”

Memories of my beloved came flooding back. I’d lingered on the Near Shore for over four hundred years to see Sakura one last time. When I encountered Kaede in front of Tenjin Station, she’d looked almost identical to Sakura on the day we’d parted. Unfortunately, she didn’t remember me, not even after I absorbed her spiritual energy and revealed the sigil on my chest.

At that moment, I’d realized that Kaede would be happier if she remained ignorant and away from me. Although I’d longed for a second chance to marry her, Sakura’s spiritual energy had dictated every aspect of her life and, in the end, killed her. Because of her ability, she was adopted as a miko and later compelled to form a master-servant contract with a kitsune. After our farewell, she’d died defending Lady Ginchiyo.

If not for her spiritual prowess, Sakura wouldn’t have become a priestess or met the shapeshifting fox of Chikushino. If not for her spiritual prowess, she would have lived as a normal woman. She wouldn’t have fallen to a curse.

But Sakura was far too extraordinary. She couldn’t have chosen a normal life during that period of history.

Reincarnated in the modern era, however, Kaede was free to follow her own happiness. Her own path in life. If she learned to control her spiritual energy, she could enjoy a normal existence. Wouldn’t that bring her the most joy?

Besides, I was initially an utter stranger to Kaede. While I viewed her and Sakura as a continuous soul, from her perspective, she and Sakura weren’t the same person. Obviously, I couldn’t profess my love to Kaede based on a former life she didn’t remember. After observing humans for over a thousand years, I knew that all too well.

Regardless, I would always love that oddball, no matter how many times she reincarnated. And that was the basis of my unease. Would Kaede have no choice but to endure another life dictated by spiritual energy and ayakashi?

I’d procrastinated: Should that spiritually gifted woman and I become mates and live together once more? Or, because she’d reincarnated into an ordinary existence, should I have solved her spiritual energy leakage and returned her to the normal world immediately?

“How…?” I murmured. “How can I ever tell Kaede that I’ve loved her since her previous life?”

Would it be kinder to tell her that she was my former master? Would she be able to abandon her normal life after learning my feelings for her?

Sakura had perished at the bottom of a well. Involvement with ayakashi only brought death. Did I deserve to hold Kaede in her current life when I hadn’t been able to save her previous one?

“Of course I don’t,” I muttered. “What am I even thinking?”

The light turned green, and I gripped the steering wheel. First and foremost, I needed to rescue her from Xu Fu.

🍁🍁🍁

MY abductor wore round glasses and chic, classic Chinese garb. His black, midback-length hair, almond-shaped eyes, and long limbs were bewitchingly sensual. His many rings and thin, metal earrings were additionally striking.

He hummed as he steered onto the off-ramp. The uniformed women had vanished after pulling me into the van, evidently illusions of some kind. In any case, I found myself alone in a vehicle with my kidnapper.

My eyes widened when I looked outside the window. “We’re already so far from Hakata Station.”

After passing Fukuoka Airport on our left, the van zipped through Tsukushi Plain, mountains towering over us on either side. The weather was perfect for a drive, and I would have enjoyed the scenery if not for the circumstances.

“Loosen up a bit, why don’tcha?” my abductor said from the driver’s seat. “Would a snack help?”

“No thanks,” I replied from the back. “So, um, where are you taking me?”

“One of my hot spring resorts. Most of my establishments are in Saga, but we’ll go to the nearest one in Futsukaichi for now.”

“O-Okay…”

“Or would you rather go all the way to Ureshino?” the kidnapper asked. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Well, I would mind! Let me go! This is a crime, y’know!”

“A crime, eh?” He glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “The shapeshifting fox of Chikushino made you cry, did he?”

“Huh?” I recoiled in surprise, touching the corners of my eyes.

“Aha!” laughed the kidnapper. “Nailed it.”

“I was crying for personal reasons. Shinozaki didn’t make me cry.”

“Either way, please enjoy my hot spring to your heart’s content. You can always turn down my offer afterward, right? I’ll even assign one of my best girls to you.”

“One of your best girls? What does that even mean?”

“You’ll find out when we arrive, sweetheart.”

I glanced down at the Hayakaken card dangling from my bag. Surely Shinozaki could pinpoint my location through the makeshift amulet.

For the time being, I had no choice but to believe he would save me.

🍁🍁🍁

I won’t fold so easily,I thought, squaring my shoulders. No matter how good the hot spring or the massage feels, my heart will never surrender!

After soaking in the water and receiving a thorough rubdown, however, I turned into a living block of boiled tofu. “W-Wow…” I said with a sigh. “Does life get any better than this?”

The masseuse was one of my kidnapper’s “best girls,” and she was exceptional. My entire body felt as limp as udon.

“You’re incredible at this…” I mumbled.

The beautiful massage therapist laughed. “It’s Xu Fu’s—the fangshi’s—technique.”

My abductor had booked me a two-hour massage. Partway through, I took a break to enjoy a warm cup of tea.

“This is my first time having authentic Chinese tea,” I said. “It’s amazing.”

“It’s actually from Ureshino,” the massage therapist replied.

“Seriously?”

The tea was served in a gaiwan, the bowl clearly high-end, though that was the limit of my discernment. I sipped the tea while lounging, to my slight embarrassment, in loose garments provided for the massage.

My kidnapper soon shimmied into the room. “You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he said. “So? How was it?”

“Heavenly,” I conceded.

“Right?” He sat opposite me. Grinning, he crossed his long legs and giddily clapped his hands. “You have so much excess spiritual energy. Why not work here rather than let it go to waste? Wouldn’t that be splendid?”

“Sorry, but, um, I can’t work here just because I had a pleasant experience. That would be crazy.”

“Our ayakashi clients would be delighted if you worked as a massage therapist, given your spiritual energy. Plus, I could help you earn professional certification. You’ll never have to worry about independence or advancing your career again! You’ll be able to work after having children too! Perhaps even overseas!”

“That’s an appealing offer, but I work for Shinozaki, so…!”

“How long do you intend to work for him?”

Despite his casual tone, he spoke bluntly, cutting through to my indecision. How long would I be able to work for Shinozaki? I couldn’t help but flinch since the question was already on my mind.

My abductor smiled, seeming to have read something in my expression. “Allow me to introduce myself, for I have no intention of hiding anything,” he said, recrossing his legs. “My name is Xu Fu. Or Jofuku, as you pronounce it in Japanese.”

“That sounds familiar. Isn’t there a bike path in Saga called the Jofuku Cycling Road?”

“Indeed! I applaud your memory. In other words, I was once a normal human.”

He used to be human? What is he trying to tell me, exactly?

“During my mortal life, the Emperor of China sent me to Hōrai—or rather, Japan—to seek the elixir of life,” Xu Fu said. “After gaining immortality, I traveled from place to place until becoming a denizen of Saga Prefecture.”

“A…denizen?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have a certificate of residence.” He chuckled at his own joke.

I nodded hesitantly, uncertain whether I should laugh.

“You’re familiar with Professor M, the deity who guards Dazaifu, yes?” he asked. “Likewise, you’ve met the samurai from Mount Shioji, haven’t you?”

I didn’t respond. How much did the man know about my recent activity?

“If you spoke with those two, you must have figured it out by now,” said Xu Fu. “There are many ways for a human to become an ayakashi.”

“…What are you trying to say?”

“If you wish to stay with the shapeshifting fox, you’d be better off renouncing your humanity and becoming an ayakashi. I’ll even oversee your sadhana myself.”

I see. That’s an option, huh? I never even considered it.

“Renunciation is a blast! You’re no longer plagued by a variety of worldly concerns. Being so detached from the mortal realm does cause the occasional inconvenience, sure, but it’s a small price to pay.”

“But…I want to live a normal life.”

“You met that bigshot samurai in Dazaifu, didn’t you? The valiant warrior who waged a bloody war four hundred years ago?”

“So, you do know about that?”

“It’s a small world for us ayakashi.” Xu Fu grinned. “After dying, that samurai achieved apotheosis and continues to live an idyllic life with his wife. Wouldn’t you like to do the same with Shinozaki?”

I considered his suggestion. Perhaps I wasn’t suited for a normal life. Yet I didn’t dislike being human.

“I’m sorry, but at least for now, I don’t want to renounce my humanity,” I said. “I still have my family, and I want to cherish my human life.”

“Normalcy has always been uncomfortable for you, hasn’t it?”

I fell silent once more under his piercing gaze.

“You were born with spiritual energy powerful enough to bewitch a fox,” said Xu Fu. “That’s made life difficult in certain ways, no?”

“I…” I trailed off, unsure how to respond.

“Well, no matter,” he said, indicating that he would drop the topic. “You’re still young. By all means, continue to enjoy your human existence. I’m in no hurry. Life is long, after all.”

Xu Fu—the immortal fangshi—smiled at me, a sparkle in his amethyst eyes. Earrings swaying, he stood to leave.

🍁🍁🍁

THE late-summer sun had begun to set over Futsukaichi. I cast a spell to materialize a hidden road, then brought the car to a screeching halt in the parking lot of a traditional Japanese inn.

Red dragonflies flitted all around me, and Xu Fu—former human and Kaede’s kidnapper—leaned against the entrance to the inn. He smiled faintly, holding a pipe in one hand. The smoke drifting from the metal-tipped stem had been enchanted with fangshi magic. I furrowed my brow in response to the unpleasant scent; it irritated my sharp sense of smell.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the shapeshifting fox of Chikushino,” Xu Fu said. “It’s a scorcher today, isn’t it? Why don’t you come inside and rinse that sweat off?”

“Shut up,” I growled. “Return Kaede to me now.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold your horses. I fully intend to give her back.” He smiled, expression unreadable despite his twinkling amethyst eyes. “However, your wifey is in the middle of a two-hour massage. Why not let her finish since she’s already here?”

I didn’t answer.

“Do you intend to sit out here and wait?” asked Xu Fu. “I would rather you didn’t disrupt my business, so please come inside. I’ve brewed some tea for you.”

That he controlled the situation vexed me. Yet I had no choice but to follow him wordlessly inside. As soon as I crossed the threshold, a tingling sensation caused me to shudder. From that point onward, I would be inside his barrier.

The labyrinthine resort was a blend of Japanese and Chinese architecture. It was reminiscent of buildings in old red-light districts. Xu Fu led me to a Chinese-style reception room, where a woman in a ruqun began to brew tea. She performed a traditional Chinese tea ceremony while Xu Fu lounged in the seat across from me.

“Green tea, eh?” I asked. “Is it Longjing?”

“Ureshino, actually,” he replied.

“Then why are you preparing it like that?”

“I wanted to see if you would have the same reaction as Kikui.”

The beaded bamboo screen rattled in the wind.

“Tell me.” Xu Fu’s long, black hair shifted against his shoulders as he fixed his gaze on me. “Why are you so attached to Kikui when she’s no longer your significant other? Will you not renew your contract with her unless she remembers her past life? I find that difficult to believe. Aren’t you the fox that tossed aside a thousand years for love?”

I stayed silent.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. You’re scaring me half to death,” he guffawed as he fiddled with his pipe. “Are you respecting her free will, perhaps? Hoping she’ll fall in love with you of her own volition again? Playing the purehearted lover, are we, Mr. Kitsune?”

“I don’t need her to love me,” I said. “I just don’t want her to die in this life due to the supernatural. That’s all.”

“How chivalrous of you. Your sister has become a powerful, nine-tailed fox. Yet you’ve remained a lowly one-tailer because of your obsession with a single woman. Usually, I would only expect that sort of foolishness from a human. It’s laughable.”

“Shouldn’t the massage be wrapping up soon?” I demanded. “Bring her here. Now.”

“Speaking of which…” he said, ignoring me. “There’s something I’ve been wondering.”

“Out with it then.”

“Your sister should have noticed a girl as conspicuous as Kikui by now, no?” He sipped his tea, eyes narrowing behind his round glasses as he watched my reaction. “Well, either way, I share your hope that Kikui doesn’t die due to her involvement with us.”

The woman in the ruqun leaned down and whispered in Xu Fu’s ear. He nodded, rising. He twirled his pipe and forced my head up by tapping the mouthpiece under my chin.

He smirked at me. “Here’s a bit of friendly advice: decide what you want to do with that girl sooner rather than later. Before she gets dragged into a fight between siblings.”

“Thanks for the warning,” I replied. “I can tell just how many women you’ve brought to tears.”

The corner of his eye twitched. “Kikui is spelled using the kanji for chrysanthemum and well, yes?”

His quiet voice followed me out of the room.

“I can’t think of a better name to describe her past life. Chrysanthemums placed before a watery grave. Well, I’m in no hurry. I’ll welcome her as my employee at any time. As a former human, I’d love for us to get to know each other better. Now then, have her home at a decent hour, won’t you?”

🍁🍁🍁

I sank into the couch. My mind and body were pleasantly drowsy from the hot spring and massage. Before long, a familiar face appeared in front of me.

“Shinozaki…” I murmured.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, holding out his hand.

His kindness caused my chest to tighten. Why did he always treat me with such compassion when I did nothing but inconvenience him?

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled as I took his hand. “I basically ditched work.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “Hainuzuka’s on the case. I originally intended to let you take the day off anyway.”

“…Thanks for coming to get me.”

“No problem.”

We left the room together. Although the resort had bustled with people earlier, a deathly silence hung over the deserted inn. No employees bade us farewell. Only the buzz of a vending machine in the old-fashioned souvenir corner reached my ears.

Outside, the sun was already sinking beneath the horizon. As we climbed into the car, rain started to pitter-patter on the roof, an unexpected evening shower. Shinozaki turned the key in the ignition without saying a word. Yet he didn’t touch the wheel.

Finally, he said, “I’m sorry for keeping quiet for so long. I’ll tell you everything about my master.”

“Shino—”

“Just hear me out,” he begged. “After that, you can decide how to proceed.” Rain began to fall in earnest as his serious, golden eyes found mine. “But please remember this: no matter what I confess, choose the best path for you. You don’t need to take my feelings into account. I only want you to be happy and to have full control of your future.”

“Shinozaki…”

“I’m about to admit something that I’ve kept a secret for centuries.” He shook himself with a chuckle. “…Do you mind if we set aside time for this conversation in a few days? I won’t be able to talk about it without steeling myself first.”

“Of course,” I replied.

He started to drive. The rain drumming against the car rang in my ears in absence of the radio. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel uncomfortable, despite the silence. Shinozaki had rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows. I could have studied his muscular forearms, his long fingers expertly handling the steering wheel, forever.

“Shinozaki.”

“Yeah?”

“I like it when you kiss me.”

He didn’t respond.

I forged ahead. “You startled me the first time, sure, but I didn’t dislike it. I’m glad you were my first kiss. No matter what you tell me, my feelings won’t change,” I promised, then heaved a deep sigh. I couldn’t express how I felt in a single breath. “If you don’t mind kissing me either, I want you to keep absorbing my spiritual energy. I don’t want anyone else to do it. I realized that with every fiber of my being today.”

“…Well, that’s certainly an honor,” he said after a long pause.

“Still, there is one question I’d like to ask you, now,” I said with a glance at his profile. “Is that okay?”

“What is it?”

“Would you still be able to kiss me without the pretext of absorbing my spiritual energy? No, that’s a poor way of phrasing it. Would you still want to kiss me without that obligation?”

We were approaching the Dazaifu interchange. Shinozaki stopped at a traffic light that dammed the flow of cars onto the highway. He brushed aside my hair and cupped my cheek. The world emptied but for the beat of the rain, rhythmic click of the turn signal, and metronomic swish of the windshield wipers. His lips grazed mine.

Unlike the previous two times, he didn’t absorb my energy. He kissed me a little longer than usual, leaving behind a faint trace of warmth.

“At the very least,” he said, “I would never kiss anyone but you or another woman who shares your soul.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The traffic light flared green, and he resumed driving without further explanation. “Again, you don’t need to worry about me or my former master,” he said. “I want you to give me your answer the next time we talk.”

I nodded, unable to find the right words. Shinozaki’s tail swayed in front of me, tacit permission to stroke his fur. Obliging, I ran my fingers through its tip. He didn’t utter another word but, unless my eyes were deceiving me, did smile faintly.

🍁🍁🍁

THE sea breeze rustled the garden trees. Wind whistled through the open shoji screen and into the samurai’s residence in Chikushino. Tsukushi, Shino’s sister by blood, relayed the events as matter-of-factly as she could.

“Lady Ginchiyo became bedridden due to illness,” she said. “Plagued by one curse after another. We kitsune, along with Sakura, protected her to the best of our abilities, but… She slowly dismissed all of her handmaidens, as she was no longer the wife of a feudal lord. But Sakura continued to care for the lady like a real sister. It reminded me of when they were children.”

Tsukushi paused, shrugging her narrow shoulders as she watched Shino. Despite her brave front, he could see the exhaustion in her hollow eyes.

“During the summer, when Lady Ginchiyo was on the brink of death, she was bombarded with curses—as though the casters were seizing the opportunity to kill her. Around that time, Sakura often donned the lady’s clothes and jewelry in order to bear the curses on her behalf. Thanks to Sakura’s bravery, Her Ladyship survived, but on a particularly cold autumn day… Her Ladyship’s fever still hadn’t broken…”

What happened to Sakura? What happened to her remains after she fell into the well?

Shino had a million questions, yet he couldn’t form the words.

Should I have forced her to come to Hakata with me? If she hadn’t formed a contract with me, would she have lived as a typical miko? If I hadn’t fallen in love with her, would she have married an ordinary man, retired as a priestess, and found a normal woman’s happiness?

“Shino, you poor thing,” said Tsukushi. “You can’t even cry, can you?” She stood, nearing him to cradle his head against her chest.

Jolting, he pushed her away. “Stop it, Tsukushi,” he said. “I’m…”

“You’re tired, Shino,” she finished. “Honestly, I’m tired too. Why don’t we return to the mountains together?” After smoothing out the hem of her short-sleeved kimono, mussed where Shino had shoved her, she gripped his hand. “Just the two of us foxes,” she said.

Her delicate, pale fingers filled his vision. She has such beautiful hands.

But the hands he longed for weren’t so beautiful, dainty, or smooth. Sakura’s nailbeds were always stained with medicinal herbs and amulet ink. Her hands were suntanned and slightly calloused, with cuticles frayed by hard labor. Burns and cuts covered her palms. Yet Sakura’s slender fingers had fit perfectly in Shino’s. Her hands were beautiful in their own way.

“I can’t go with you,” he said.

“Why…not?” asked Tsukushi.

“Leave. I can’t return to the mountains with you.”

“Shino. Please listen. You’re not—”

“Leave,” he repeated. His fur bristled. The vases in the drawing room trembled, their flowers wilting. At the same time, the color of the floorboards paled, and the tatami mats started to rot.

“Shino, you…” Tsukushi trailed off.

Stop. Don’t say another word.

He let loose a bestial roar.

For the next few years, Shino rampaged across Japan as a malevolent spirit, unleashing curses wherever he went.

🍁🍁🍁

SHINO longed to see his beloved miko again. But Sakura had died in defense of Lady Ginchiyo, whom she’d loved and respected since the lady’s days as castellan.

So the fox grew feral, tearing across the land until his sister tracked him down once more.

“Shino,” Tsukushi said. “I can’t kill you. Nor can I take you to the Far Shore by force.” She looked down at her brother sadly, her heel pressed against his throat. He’d lost all the spiritual merit he’d accumulated over six hundred years, reduced to a one-tailed fox.

Her own tails had multiplied in number as her spiritual energy increased.

“I’ve chosen to remain on the Near Shore for the time being, for I have work to do here,” she continued. “But let’s venture to the Far Shore together once you’ve regained your wits.”

Shino could no longer maintain a human form. After capturing him, Tsukushi used her power to imprison him in Chikushi Forest. The wounded fox had become so mad with fury that he could no longer remember the source of his suffering. Or even his own name.

🍁🍁🍁

SEVERAL decades later, a capricious canine spoke to him.

“My, my, you’re still alive?” she asked. “You’ve got grit, if nothing else.”

The unnaturally beautiful woman, arrayed in the garments of an oiran courtesan, simultaneously resembled a black Shiba Inu. Below her slender neck, enormous swan wings unfurled from her back.

Princess Hainu had lived in Chikugo, a city south of Chikuzen, since time immemorial. The ayakashi, whose name meant “winged dog,” breathed life into the bedraggled fox. With a snap,the magical barrier imprisoning him shattered, and he regained his human form.

“Why did you save me?” he asked.

Princess Hainu’s red lips twisted into a smirk. “I suppose I did it on a whim.”

“On a whim…?”

“Precisely. Your story touched my heart. A fox that fell in love with a human and ultimately destroyed himself? Why, it’s practically a fairy tale.”

Princess Hainu was infamous for her eccentricity. She’d caught the eye of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who had a taste for oddities and beautiful women, during his subjugation of Kyushu. Thereafter, he secretly housed her in his Kyushu estate as a favored concubine. According to rumor, she’d even taught ancient and secret ayakashi arts to one of Hideyoshi’s barren concubines, allowing the woman to conceive.

In other words, the fox was free at the behest of a notoriously strange woman.

“If you’ve grown weary of the mortal realm, little fox, make haste for the Far Shore,” she said. “Your older sister wanted to take the journey alongside you, did she not?”

“I…” The fox hesitated.

“You sound like a sulking child. No wonder you have but one tail left.” Sighing, she told him gently yet firmly, “If you choose to cling to the Near Shore, you must adapt to it. The world will continue to change; you must become familiar with the human realm. If you wish to see the woman you love again…if you choose to wait for her…”

“Wait for her? She’s already…!”

“My, my, are you really that simpleminded?” Princess Hainu smiled sweetly. “Humans reincarnate. Waiting for their rebirth is what makes life worth living for us ayakashi, no?”

Princess Hainu was an ancient local deity. She’d existed long before the land received the name Chikushi. Furthermore, she’d chosen to accept Hideyoshi’s favor and remain on the Near Shore rather than be overrun by the march of time. Her words thus carried a great deal of weight for the fox.

“Or…will your love not withstand her change in appearance, perhaps?” she asked. “For shame, for shame.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” the fox shouted, staggering as though she’d punched him in the gut. “No matter what Sakura looks like, I’ll always—”

“That’s why I called it a fairy tale, my adorable little fox.” Again, Princess Hainu smiled sweetly, her curly tail wagging back and forth. “If the spark of resolve has ignited within your chest, I’ll lend you a small portion of my strength.”

🍁🍁🍁

OVER the next several centuries, the fox gambled everything on the hope that Sakura—or at least, her soul—would return to him. As the kitsune of Tachibana, he’d been given the name Shino. During that new era, however, he changed his name to Rai Shinozaki.

Four hundred years passed in the blink of an eye, and he became perfectly at home in the human realm. Then, one day, he had a fateful encounter.

“Um, I really don’t have any money,” the young woman insisted. “Besides, I just want to find a new job, give my parents some peace of mind, and live a normal life.”

“There’s an old proverb,” the nekomata responded. “The frog in the well knows nothing of the great ocean. You need to take a leap of faith.”

“You’re not listening to me…”

Lately, Rai had been investigating a black nekomata running an illegal fortune-telling booth. The cat was forcing a bracelet onto a frazzled woman, who could barely manage the wan smile on her face.

Upon sight of her, Rai’s body reacted faster than his conscious mind. His every hair stood on end. Amid a world of lifeless gray, she stood out like a spring field in vibrant bloom. Her overflowing spiritual energy suffused the air with a sweet scent.

“Sakura…” he murmured. He dashed toward her.

The woman, in an ordinary job-hunting suit, startled as he bolted straight at her. “A f-fox…?” she mumbled. Despite her obvious fright, she had the audacity to smile slightly upon seeing his ears and tail.

Yes, I recognize her.

He held back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. After a quick look at her, he turned to the nekomata. She had inherited Sakura’s soul, yes, but he feared that rebirth might have transformed her into an entirely different person. At the same time, he knew for certain that the goofball of a woman would break his heart and body all over again.

Chapter 5: Yanagawa and Tachibanayama: A Full Account of the Lonely Fox and Me

Chapter 5: Yanagawa and Tachibanayama: A Full Account of the Lonely Fox and Me

AFTER Shinozaki dropped me off near my house, I stumbled to the front door on unsteady feet. Once inside, I immediately called Hainuzuka, who’d covered for me that day. Before I could say anything, her bubbly voice sounded from the other end of the phone.

“Are you okay, Kaede? I can’t believe that nasty kidnapper got his hands on you. He didn’t do anything pervy, did he?”

“Absolutely not! Don’t worry about that!”

“My, my, is that so? Did Shinozaki do anything pervy?”

“Shinozaki and I have a perfectly healthy relationship!” I squealed.

I heard muffled laughter. “All’s well that ends well,” she said with another chuckle. “Everything worked out on my end, by the way. I was already running an errand near Hakata Station, so I had no trouble meeting the client on time. No need to worry your little head over that.”

“Thank you so much. Sorry you had to cover for me though. The next time someone tries to kidnap me, I’ll blast them with my Hayakaken beam.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure that’s the best idea, either…”

After a few more minutes of small talk, we hung up.

“Wait,” I said to myself. Hainuzuka always came to work as a black Shiba Inu dressed in a secretarial uniform. While her appearance would delight furries, she didn’t look especially human. “Was she running her errand like that?”

Perhaps, similar to Shinozaki, she could assume a more human semblance. In that case, did Shinozaki have a more vulpine form as well? I’d love to run my fingers through that maxed-out fluffiness someday.

“Shinozaki…” I murmured.

Just thinking about him caused my face to grow warm. Our kiss inside the car replayed over and over again in my mind. My cheek, caressed by his hand, still tingled. I’d finally kissed the real Shinozaki, not my boss or an ayakashi helping me with my spiritual energy. Yet the thought of his past still frightened me. I wouldn’t be able to bask in sweet giddiness forever, so I wanted to savor the experience—his gentle voice, intoxicating scent, and the softness of his lips—for as long as possible.

“Mrrow.”

“Whoa!” I yelped. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Yoru, leaving the bathroom, froze, and his black coat puffed in fright.

“Sorry,” I amended. “I didn’t mean to spook you either. I was sort of lost in thought, so you startled me.”

“I see,” he said, curling up next to me in cat form. As he recharged his spiritual energy, I patted his head, causing his ears to flatten like miniature airplane wings.

So cute.

Despite my best efforts to distract myself with his soft fur, I still felt restless. I looked down at him as a purr rumbled in the back of his throat.

“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked.

“Returning to my former master’s estate,” he said. “I’m going to weed the lawn and tidy the place up.”

“Oh, that’s right. You just bought the estate, didn’t you?”

He’d purchased the land on which his former master’s family had lived for generations. In helping the nekomata in Nakasu those few evenings, he’d gained the favor of influential individuals in their community and secured backing and a guarantor to buy the property. It hadn’t been too expensive, since the estate was on a mountaintop with little road access and no public transportation. Regardless, Yoru couldn’t have been happier.

“Wow,” I said. “You have a lot going on in your life too, huh?”

“I want you to visit once I’ve finished cleaning it. I’ll serve you tea.”

“Come to think of it, you belonged to a samurai house, didn’t you? That’s amazing.” I sank into thought while stroking his fur. Honestly, I didn’t want to spend the weekend alone.

Should I meet up with a friend? Or spend time with my parents? But if they start asking me about the future or marriage, I’ll just get depressed.

Right on cue, my phone buzzed. Grabbing it with my free hand, I found a highly welcome text. “Tsukushi!” I exclaimed.

“Can I call you now?”

“Of course!” I typed.

As soon as the “read” notification appeared under my text, my phone chimed.

Tsukushi’s tinkling laughter greeted me. “You picked up on the first ring. Overeager, much?”

I chuckled sheepishly. “You got me. So, what’s going on with you?”

“I know this is sudden, but are you free this weekend? If so, would you like to go sightseeing in Yanagawa with me? I have tickets to tour Ryokan Ohana.”

“That sounds amazing!”

Talk about perfect timing.

Ohana was a famous traditional Japanese inn, and Yanagawa a castle city around forty-five minutes from Tenjin by private railway. The area was one of the most scenic in the Chikugo region, and I’d been interested in visiting it for some time due to a tourism campaign a while back. The unique layout of castle towns, as well as the canals crisscrossing Yanagawa, appealed to me a great deal.

If I stayed in Tenjin, where I worked with Shinozaki nearly every day, I would inevitably think about him. Tsukushi’s invitation to Yanagawa couldn’t have come at a better time.

“So, how about it?” she asked.

“Yeah, let’s go!” I decided. “Thanks for inviting me. I was just thinking that I wanted to hang out with someone this weekend.”

“Well then, let’s meet beneath the screen in front of Fukuoka Tenjin Station tomorrow.”

“Roger that! I’ll make sure to be good and hungry.”

“Oh, Kaede, you’re such a goofball.” She giggled. “I’m looking forward to our date. Let’s eat every tasty thing we see, okay?”

🍁🍁🍁

THE next day, leaning against the wall beneath the station’s giant display, I waited for Tsukushi. Tenjin had an altogether different vibe on the weekends. Tourists as well as locals flooded the streets for a day out. Just standing amid the lively crowd of vibrantly dressed people lifted my spirits.

Curious, I glanced at the spot where I first encountered Yoru. His fortune-telling booth was no longer there, of course. Actually, I met Yoru and Shinozaki in front of that stall.

My life had changed a great deal since then. Shinozaki and I had met in the spring, and the advent of autumn was already upon us. “Not even half a year has passed,” I murmured in slight surprise.

Looking up, I saw the latest promotional video from Jellysh on the giant LED screen. We’d barely avoided disaster when Shizuku lost control of her spiritual energy. The memory brought a smile to my lips.

“Not even half a year, and I’ve already made so many memories with ayakashi…”

While I waxed sentimental, Tsukushi arrived in a white dress.

“Sorry for the wait,” she said.

I stared at her, unable to respond.

She cocked her head. “What’s wrong, Kaede?” Her exposed slender arms were snow white, as white as her dress and hat. She was so beautiful that I almost doubted she was human.

“You’re not an ayakashi, are you?” I blurted.

Her strikingly round eyes blinked in surprise. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re just, um, so beautiful. It’s hard to believe you’re human, so…”

As I stuttered excuses, a memory of my first sight of Shinozaki surfaced. He was handsome enough to turn heads too. In fact, he and Tsukushi shared the same sort of ethereal beauty. Both had angular jawlines, porcelain-smooth skin, and sensuously round eyes. Their features were so refined that they appeared intimidating without a smile.

Tsukushi tittered. “I can always count on you for a laugh.”

Does she even realize how breathtaking she is?

🍁🍁🍁

WE boarded Suito, Yanagawa’s sightseeing train, the outside of each railcar painted with elegant murals. Assuming she was more familiar with the service, I asked Tsukushi, “Do we not need a reservation or to pay an express fare? Is it more expensive because it’s geared toward sightseeing?”

“All good,” she replied with a grin. “We really lucked out by catching this train. I can’t think of a better way to be welcomed to Yanagawa.”

I’d never ridden the Nishitetsu Tenjin Ōmuta Line. After all, I’d been born and raised in the Higashi Ward. As the train accelerated, the sight of the city blurring past captivated me. The transfer from Dazaifu to Futsukaichi Station was as far south as I’d ever traveled; everything beyond was uncharted territory.

By express train, we would reach the castle city of Yanagawa, erstwhile seat of the Tachibana clan, in forty-five minutes. Centuries after their rule, some of the buildings they’d owned remained in the picturesque region.

“Come to think of it, Mount Tachibana is visible from my home in Kashii, isn’t it?” I asked. “Is that related to Yanagawa?”

“Still as sharp as ever, aren’t you?” observed Tsukushi.

“Y-You’re making me blush…”

“Long ago, the leaders of Tachibana relocated from Mount Tachibana to Yanagawa for political reasons.”

“Wow,” I said. “You’re pretty knowledgeable about this, huh?” I perused a sightseeing pamphlet I’d picked up at the station. How could I know so little about Fukuoka when I worked for an ayakashi moving service? Embarrassing, much?

“I’ve been interested enough to look at guidebooks before,” I admitted. “But for some reason, I’ve never visited Yanagawa. I’m so glad you invited me out.”

“Hm. I wonder what stopped you.”

The train swaying beneath us, she launched into exposition. “Yanagawa is putting a lot of effort into tourism right now. They’re renovating the station and improving public transportation to make it easier for sightseers to get around. There are a lot of overseas tourists as well. That’s why there are more souvenir shops these days and why the cafés in the station have gotten a lot cuter.”

“You really are knowledgeable about Yanagawa, huh?”

“I lived there a long time ago. I still visit from time to time.”

“Oh, really? I had no idea. Honestly, I’ve hardly ever ridden this far south.”

Just as I glanced out the window, the train passed Futsukaichi Station, which I’d visited earlier that week. In fifteen minutes, we’d reach Kurume. In another fifteen, we’d arrive in Yanagawa.

“Speaking of which, why have I never been?” I wondered aloud, watching the countryside whiz past. “It wouldn’t have been strange for me to visit at least once. After all, I do live in Fukuoka.”

“Perhaps,” Tsukushi mused, “your soul resisted coming here.”

“My soul…?”

“Forget I said anything.” She shrugged, donning her usual smile before showing me her phone screen. “All right, let’s decide where we want to eat eel! Sounds yummy, right?”

“Sure does!”

We debated the merits of various restaurants before meandering on to other topics, reminiscing and discussing other places we wanted to visit in Yanagawa.

I just opened up to her about my love life the other day, I thought as I eyed her sidelong. Is it just my imagination, or are we both avoiding the topic? I want to tell her about my plans to have a serious conversation with Shinozaki. About my plans to confess my feelings to him. As my best friend, she deserves to know first.

The pleasant train ride ended all too soon, interrupting our lively conversation. Stepping out of Yanagawa Station, I noted the weather was perfect for sightseeing.

Tsukushi took the lead, seeming perfectly at home in the city. “The boat ride is this way,” she urged. “It departs from in front of Mihashira Shrine.”

“O-Okay…”

We walked a short distance to the dock, the shrine’s magnificent arched bridge rising before us. As soon as I stepped onto the bridge, what felt like static electricity jolted through my body.

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong?” asked Tsukushi.

“Oh, um… That was weird. I must’ve built up some static electricity on the train.”

“The handrails of this bridge are made from ancient materials.” She smiled at me meaningfully, her hair fluttering in the breeze. “Actually, the materials were repurposed from the castle a long, long time ago.”

“Oh, wow, really?”

“Your soul must be overjoyed that you’ve returned to this land.”

“Wh-What do you mean…?”

“Come on,” she said. “The boatman is waving us over.” Grinning, she clasped my hand and led me briskly to the dock.

I allowed her to do so without the slightest resistance, my mind strangely blank.

As our boat drifted down the canal, sunlight filtered through a green canopy of weeping willows. Eventually we reached our destination: a lovely area lined with white walls, canals, and more willows. Evidently, the spot boasted the best view of the city.

Despite the tranquil weather and beautiful scenery, my heart raced, chest tightening with bittersweet sorrow. I found myself struggling to hold back tears, though the emotion wasn’t unpleasant. Rather, the world appeared radiant to my eyes.

What’s gotten into me?

“Are you okay?” After disembarking, Tsukushi rubbed my back as we headed to the eel restaurant. “We can rest if you’re not feeling well. The food can wait until later too.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I said with a forced smile. “My stomach’s growling up a storm. Just hearing the word eel is making my mouth water!” Somehow, I had to allay her concern. I didn’t want to ruin our day out, especially since I wasn’t feeling particularly ill.

“Seriously, what’s gotten into me?” I asked. “It’s hard to explain, but everything feels overwhelmingly poignant. Something about this place fills me with nostalgia. Maybe castle cities make everyone feel wistful, aha.”

What am I saying? The only location I could possibly be nostalgic for was my neighborhood in Kashii. Even so, the nonsensical words spilled from my mouth.

Tsukushi’s keen, black eyes seemed to penetrate the depths of my soul. “You must be exhausted from walking,” she said.

“You think so?”

“We still have time until our reservation at the restaurant. Let’s go to Ryokan Ohana. The garden is beautiful.”

“Oh, right. You mentioned having tickets, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Ohana is the historic villa of an ancient patriarch.”

Taking my hand once more, she tugged me down a road bustling with other tourists. A row of buildings blending Japanese and Western architecture formed the grand estate. Cold air greeted us as we stepped inside, and we padded across antique floorboards until finally reaching the majestic, Japanese-style main hall.

“Wow…” I sighed.

A marvelous, verdant garden unfolded beyond the hall. Due to the time of day, we practically had the view to ourselves.

After crossing the tatami mats, Tsukushi sat on the long veranda overlooking the garden. Considering her elegant demeanor, I could have mistaken her for a princess. I plopped down next to her, overcome with awe by the sight, my strange mood from earlier completely forgotten.

“I like how peaceful it is here,” she said. “Apparently, the pine trees, stones, and pond were modeled after the Matsushima islands.”

“Oh, the ones in Miyagi Prefecture?” I asked.

“Yes. You know about them?”

“Yeah, um… One of our company’s clients sent us local beer from there the other day.”

The iso-onna of Keya Beach had gone to Miyagi recently for a getaway and gave us the beer as a souvenir.

“I still have two bottles in my fridge at home,” I said. “You should come over and try one sometime.”

Tsukushi laughed softly. “A sleepover with you sounds like a blast.”

“Right? We’ve never had one, seeing as I’ve always lived with my parents. Oh, are you allergic to cats though? We have one that stops by from time to time.”

“Are you keeping it as a pet?”

“I’m not sure if pet is the right word to describe him. He just…sort of settled down at our place.”

“A cat, huh?” For an instant, an austere expression shadowed Tsukushi’s face. “You’re quite the animal magnet, aren’t you? It makes me jealous.”

“J-Jealous?”

“I mean, you’ve never even invited me to your house, and you’re letting other animals live there? You even have its scent on you.”

“Huh?” Without thinking, I sniffed one of my sleeves. “Do I really smell like cat?”

“Good question. Who’s to say?”

People listed themselves as pet owners on secondhand sites, I remembered. After all, most owners didn’t notice the scent of their animals. But I didn’t think Yoru gave off a strong odor, since he bathed every night and vacuumed his shed hair. A dangerous assumption, perhaps.

Tsukushi’s red lips curled into a smile as she watched me sniff myself. “So, Kaede, are you enjoying your new job?” she asked. She stared at me from her seat on the veranda, the floorboards reflecting the wavering light of the pond. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Steeling myself, I met her gaze. “Tsukushi,” I said. “Truth be told, I’m going to…”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to tell my boss how I feel about him. Turns out I have fallen for him.”

“The shady sex pest, you mean?”

“He’s not shady and he’s definitely not a sex pest,” I said. “Either way, I can’t deny my feelings for him any longer.”

“…I see.” Her eyes were still, deep pools.

“My boss said he would discuss the future with me next week,” I continued, “of our private lives, I mean. Not work. He promised to tell me about his past and what’s been on his mind. So I’m going to tell him how I feel. I just want us to get everything out in the open, regardless of whether he wants to be in a relationship or not.”

“Hm.” Tsukushi turned to look at the pond. A flock of waterfowl beat their wings, fleeing in unison as though her attention had frightened them. “If he gives the okay, will you become his mate?”

I’d never heard anyone but Yoru use that expression. “H-His mate?”

I was growing increasingly flustered. Tsukushi pinned me with her solemn gaze once more, and I could see myself flinching in the reflection of her pitch-black eyes.

“Ah…” I choked out as an inexplicable chill raced down my spine.

What’s going on? For a moment, her face reminded me of Shinozaki’s when he’s being serious.

“Do you want to be in a romantic relationship with your boss?” she pressed. “Or marry him, perhaps? How far ahead are you thinking?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I want from him.” I shook my head. “All I know for certain is that I have feelings for my boss and I enjoy my work. That’s all. If possible, I don’t want to lose him or my job. Still, I won’t know until next week. After all, my boss promised to tell me everything as well.”

“Kaede. You might not be able to return to a normal life, you know? That man is hiding something about his past, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” I turned to the pond, pondering Tsukushi’s warning. At the same time, I recalled our night out with our friends. I also remembered Xu Fu’s suggestion to renounce my humanity.

When all’s said and done, what do I want to do?

I knew my answer already, didn’t I?

“I want to stay by his side,” I said. “I want to learn so much more about him. I’ve never lied to myself about what I feel. Because…that’s what being normal means to me.”

After a lengthy silence, Tsukushi heaved a deep sigh. “You, Kaede, are an incorrigible fool.”

“Huh?” Wincing, I looked up at my beautiful best friend, meeting her golden eyes.

Her…golden eyes?

Their brilliant color reminded me of gold leaf sparkling under light. Her expression, in contrast, remained as cold as ice. I recognized her arresting features from elsewhere: Tsukushi looked very similar to Shinozaki. The dazzling hue of her eyes only intensified the resemblance.

“Kaede,” she said. “When Shino looks at you, he sees Sakura, not you.”

“Huh? Did you just say Shino? And…who’s Sakura?”

“You still haven’t realized his feelings, have you?”

“Wait. By Shino, do you mean—”

“Rai Shinozaki,” interrupted Tsukushi. “That’s what he calls himself now, yes? While he plays at being human.”

I had no recollection of telling her his name. I’d always called him “my boss” or something of the sort.

“What on earth is going on?” I asked.

“It’s high time I dropped this act,” she replied.

With an audible crack, the scenery shattered like glass, replaced by a monochrome version of our surrounds.

“A magical barrier?!”

I had experienced something similar when Yoru attacked me in Ōhori Park. We wouldn’t be visible to ordinary humans while trapped in that space.

Tsukushi stood, her long, black hair billowing behind her. The ends of the strands began to sparkle like gold leaf as well, and within moments, her hair bleached to a golden brown and lengthened to her ankles. Large fox ears sprouted from her head. The bottom of her white dress started to bulge, then enormous tails erupted from its skirt one after another, exposing her thighs.

“You’ve been a kitsune this whole time…?”

“My former master gave me the name Tsukushi,” she said. “Have you ever seen how it’s written? It references an ancient pair of foxes that once raced through the fields of Chikushino.”

The first two kanji in Chikushino, chiku and shi, could also be read as Tsukushi. At some point, the former province of Chikushino was split into Chikuzen and Chikugo, into front (zen) and back (go)—which, I supposed, represented one kitsune and the other. Presumably, Shinozaki’s name had been derived from Chikushino as well.

“Don’t tell me…” I murmured. “You and Shinozaki are related somehow?!”

“Correct. We were the guardian foxes of Chikushino. The courageous general Dōsetsu Bekki sought a contract with us while defending Chikuzen’s Tachibanayama Castle.”

“W-Wait. Bekki and…Tachibanayama Castle? What are you talking about?”

“I know. Hearing this all at once must be confusing. I’m sorry.” Tsukushi sighed, running a hand through her hair. Its color, and that of her eyes, made her identical to Shinozaki.

“I’m Shino’s older sister. His one and only sibling,” she added. “A powerful man wanted a master-servant relationship with us, and we accepted.”

“Thanks for, uh, breaking that down.”

“The powerful man had a daughter. However, a miko in his daughter’s service is who bound us directly.”

“So… A subsidiary company formed a contract with two siblings after receiving approval from the president of the parent company? Something like that?” I ventured.

“The details aren’t important,” said Tsukushi. “Besides, that’s not the main issue.”

“The main issue?”

All emotion vanished from her expression as she cupped my face in her icy hands. More tails had burst from her lower back during our conversation. A total of nine swayed to and fro, lifting her dress.

A nine-tailed fox. I’ve heard about them in stories, but they actually exist.

“The miko who formed the contract with us was named Sakura,” Tsukushi said. “She was your past self.”

“My past self…?”

“Indeed. After discovering her spiritual prowess, the Tachibana clan hired Sakura as a servant. She was the miko who commanded Shino and me as familiars on the battlefield.”

My mind was short-circuiting from information overload. Tsukushi and Shinozaki were siblings. Their former master had been a miko named Sakura. Shinozaki had loved her, had pined for her for four hundred years, the symbol of their bond engraved on his chest.

And she was my past self.

“Sakura was a foolish woman,” Tsukushi said. “Even though Shinozaki had promised to marry her, she sacrificed herself to an ayakashi’s curse and died.”

Tsukushi furrowed her brow, her beautiful face a mirror of Shinozaki’s. Her smile demanded attention to her red lips. “Listen closely,” she purred. “My younger brother sees you as a substitute for Sakura. He’s mistaken you for a long-dead woman because you share her soul. What good will come of professing your feelings to such a man?”

Tsukushi exuded a scent very similar to Shinozaki’s as she caressed my face. The intoxicating aroma, which I sensed rather than smelled, reminded me of sweet perfume. I glanced down to find her décolletage glowing. A sigil shone on her chest, visible above the collar of her dress. It was identical to Shinozaki’s.

As I gaped at it, words poured from Tsukushi’s mouth like water escaping a broken dam. “I knew that you and Shino had met. I also knew that he was safeguarding you under the pretense of hiring you. I’ve been watching from the shadows to see what would happen. I know it to be pointless now: you can’t save my little brother, Kaede.”

I tried to respond, but my mouth wouldn’t open. Nor could I move a single finger. I could do nothing as Tsukushi stroked my face, her fingers brushing against my stray locks of hair.

“Do you understand?” she asked. “In the end, you’re nothing but a replacement for Sakura.” Her nine tails writhed in different directions, each seeming to possess a will of its own. “This path won’t make you happy either. After all, Shino has merely mistaken you for her.”

My best friend was a shapeshifting fox. What’s more, Shinozaki’s former master—the source of my distress for the past few days—was my past self.

My past self? Seriously? This is way too much all at once. How am I even supposed to feel?

“Kaede,” Tsukushi said. “I want you to live a normal life. I don’t want tragedy to befall you, as it did in your past life.”

Her words snapped me back to my senses. On numerous occasions throughout my own life, I’d desperately thought, “I have to be normal.” Occasions when I’d stood out in school. When I became painfully aware of my ownpeculiarities. Recently, I’d witnessed what truly normal life looked like while drinking with my friends.

Could it be…?

Had Tsukushi, wearing the mask of my best friend, always encouraged me to be normal? Had—

“Tsukushi,” a familiar voice said. “That’s enough.”

With a gust of wind, I regained my bodily autonomy. I spun around to find Shinozaki in a suit, his shoulders heaving with each breath. His golden-brown hair clung to his pale cheeks, sweat-soaked, and his hands trembled in fists.

Something is terribly wrong.

“Shino,” growled Tsukushi, lips curling and eyes glowing. “I applaud you for making it all the way here.”

“Shinozaki!” I cried. I tried to run to him, and the paralysis struck again. Only my voice remained free.

“Welcome, my adorable little Shino,” Tsukushi drawled, strolling over to her brother. “We haven’t met in Yanagawa in, what, four hundred years?”

Shinozaki was much taller than his dainty sister. His hands were larger, his shoulders broader. Yet Tsukushi’s mere presence overwhelmed him. Even Shinozaki, who negotiated with ayakashi across Japan, couldn’t contend with my childhood friend—the kitsune. Cold sweat dripped down my back.

When Shinozaki and Tsukushi stood face to face, their shared features became all the more obvious. Although Shinozaki looked like the older of the two, they were clearly an elder sister and younger brother.

Tsukushi stood on tiptoe to touch his cheek, her pale fingers grazing his shoulder. Her mere touch caused him to stiffen.

“Poor little Shino,” she sang. “How agonizing is it for you to simply stand here?” She twirled to face me. “Shino said his last goodbye to Sakura—your past self—in Yanagawa. That’s why he hasn’t set foot here in over four hundred years. But he came back today to rescue you.”

“Shinozaki…” I mumbled.

“He deserves a gold star, don’t you think, Kaede?” simpered Tsukushi. “Not to mention, he withstood my spiritual energy to break through the barrier. That must have been painful, yet he didn’t transform back into a beast. How utterly heartrending.”

“Shinozaki.” I strained to speak to him from behind Tsukushi. “Shinozaki, I…”

“You heard everything, didn’t you?” he asked.

I couldn’t nod due to the paralysis. “Yes,” I answered, “I know that you and Tsukushi are siblings…and that I was your master in my past life.”

“Yes.” His voice was subdued. He smiled wanly as beads of sweat dripped down his face. “That’s what I wanted to tell you then, in the car.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I heard everything before you had the chance to explain.”

“Don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong.” He glared at Tsukushi. “You placed a seal on Kaede’s spiritual energy, didn’t you?”

“Huh?!” I squeaked.

Tsukushi nodded. “I’m a nine-tailed fox, remember? I can seal a human’s spiritual energy in my sleep.”

“You continued to live near Mount Tachibana after we separated,” Shinozaki theorized. “Kashii, where Kaede was born and raised, is relatively close. You found her immediately, didn’t you? And I never found her because you kept her energy sealed all these years.”

“Precisely.” Tsukushi tittered. “You’ve been neglecting your sadhana, Shino.”

A moment later, her nine tails fanned out behind her.

“Gah!” cried Shinozaki, falling to his knees. When he tried to stand, Tsukushi grabbed his necktie and forced his head up. “Tsuku…shi…” he groaned.

“How pathetic. Back in the day, you were far stronger and more skilled in battle than me.” Still gripping the necktie, she regarded Shinozaki with half-lidded eyes. Her soft voice oozed sugary venom as she said, “Oh, Shino, my dear and foolish little brother. Heartbreak has left you a shell of your former self. Why do you struggle so childishly to survive when your power is but a gentle breeze?”

At odds with her bewitchingly saccharine tone, her fist tightened around his necktie, yanking his face closer to hers. With a tender hand, she brushed aside his sweat-soaked bangs and kissed him on the cheek.

Evidently, he couldn’t lift a finger to resist. He merely glowered at her, his face twisting into a scowl.

“Darling Shino,” she said. “When Kaede drew her first breath, I immediately knew she was Sakura. I’ve protected her all these years, constantly changing my role and appearance. I did everything in my power to ensure she didn’t meet yet another untimely end.” Her form flickered as she considered her brother. She became my daycare teacher, my homeroom teacher. My classmate, switching to versions of herself at various ages.

My jaw dropped. She really has been watching me my entire life, hasn’t she?

“When Kaede started working, however, I couldn’t see her as often.” Tsukushi glanced at me. “The magical seal I’d maintained for so long began to weaken. Around that time, Shino, you discovered her in front of Tenjin Station. Your presence produced the final crack in my barrier, destroying it.”

Tsukushi faced me. The power in her piercing gaze caused my bangs to billow upward. “Kaede. I don’t want you anywhere near my little brother.”

“Tsukushi…” I whispered.

“Tragically, our ‘Lost Fox of Tenjin’ has been waiting for you for four hundred years, imprisoned by Sakura’s memory. But you aren’t her, even if you possess her soul. If you still wish to stay by Shino’s side… If you refuse to leave him…”

A powerful gust of wind slammed into me. My beloved transit card, dangling from my bag, broke in two, and I nearly passed out from her overwhelming spiritual energy.

“Stop!” bellowed Shinozaki in a hoarse voice.

The wind ceased as abruptly as it had started.

Shinozaki stood between me and Tsukushi, shielding me with his body. “That’s enough,” he barked. “I’m the one you’re after, right? If you lay so much as a finger on Kaede, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Oh?” said Tsukushi. “How does a lowly, one-tailed whelp intend to stand against a nine-tailed fox?”

“I’ll gladly give up my life to protect Kaede—but you can’t kill me, can you?”

All emotion vanished from Tsukushi’s face. His words had struck true.

“Tsukushi,” he said with renewed strength. “Keep protecting Kaede from the shadows for eternity. Or at least until her life ends. So long as she’s able to live a normal, peaceful life, I don’t need anything else. I’ll even venture to the Far Shore with you.”

I stared at his back, feeling as though I’d been punched in the stomach.

“Would you let me say farewell to her?” he asked.

“Do as you wish.”

Shinozaki turned to face me, his eyes twinkling above a weak smile. He was usually so well-groomed, yet his shirt was in tatters, his hair tousled. “Sorry,” he said, ruffling my hair. “I never meant to drag you into this mess.”

He took my hand and placed it on his chest. The instant I touched the sigil through his shirt, I heard a pop.

“Did you just break the contract…?” I asked.

His impassive expression told me all I needed to know.

“My sister’s demonstrated that you were reborn as Kaede—not Sakura—which nullifies it,” he said. “After all, you’re a different person now.”

“You can’t be serious.” I shook my head. “Wasn’t it important to you?!”

“I was being selfish. Now I want you to be free from me.”

“Free from you…?”

He embraced me. The warmth of his tail curled around my neck brought me to the verge of tears.

We’ve never done this before, I realized vaguely. He’s kissed me, sure, but never hugged me.

Countless thoughts raced through my mind.

You don’t have to leave me.

Where are you going?

Why don’t I have any say in the matter?

I wordlessly sank into his arms. In spite of his comforting warmth, my emotions were too scattered for me to speak.

“The first time I kissed you truly was out of necessity. I didn’t do it because you were Sakura or for any other reason.” His low, muffled voice tickled my eardrum. “But as we spent more time together, I grew increasingly nervous about kissing you. That’s how much I…”

“You were nervous too?” I asked. “I thought it was just me.”

“I’m an idiot. Despite all the suffering I caused you in your past life, I still don’t want to let you go. When will I ever learn my lesson?”

“Shinozaki, I—”

“Truth be told,” he said, “I even considered finding you a new job after we got your spiritual energy under control.”

His arms tightened around me. He pulled my hairclip free to run his fingers through my hair, kissing me on top of the head.

I closed my eyes.

His breathing grew ragged, his body warmer. “To be completely honest, I was waiting for Sakura,” he whispered. “But I never once considered you a replacement for her. That’s what makes this all so heartbreaking. I didn’t want the woman I love to lose her normal life because of some cosmic baggage.”

Pressing my hands against his chest, I looked up at him. His ears lay flat, and when I smoothed his disheveled hair, they stirred happily. They always betrayed his emotions, and my heart warmed.

I would tell him the truth.

“Shinozaki,” I said. “I love you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he replied. “You really shouldn’t.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I have to.” His smile was troubled. “I’ll only cause you more unhappiness.”

Don’t say goodbye with such a tender look on your face.

“Tsukushi and I will continue to seal your spiritual energy from the shadows,” he said. “Live a normal life, Kaede. Please.”

The patter of raindrops on leaves sounded in my ears.

“Huh?” Turning around, I found a vibrant garden dampened by a passing shower. The tips of my shoes had gotten wet as I sat on the edge of the veranda.

“Why did I come to Yanagawa by myself…?” I murmured.

I snatched at whisps of memory as I watched the rain. Had the beauty around me caused my mind to go blank?

“Oh, that’s right,” I said to myself. “Someone gave me a ticket to Ryokan Ohana. Since I’d never visited Yanagawa, I decided to take a trip out here. That’s what happened…right?”

I rose to my feet in a daze. I would get soaked before long. Feeling as though I’d been bewitched by a fox, as the saying went, I picked up my bag.

“Whoa! Why is my Hayakaken card split in half?!”

Leaving Yanagawa, I noticed what appeared to be a few strands of dog hair clinging to my shoulders. Perhaps an animal had brushed up against me at some point. Yet I had no memory of such an event.

🍁🍁🍁

ONE weekday afternoon, Tsukushi waited in Shino’s office, wearing a suit befitting human society. A young iso-onna, recently hired by a human company, entered the room. She’d come to report that her trial period had ended and that, moving forward, she would be a full-time employee. Despite the lingering summer heat, she wore long sleeves and a hat.

Upon seeing Tsukushi, her eyes widened. She took a seat and inclined her head, timidly saying, “My name is, um, Shizuku. Pardon my rudeness, but have we ever met before?”

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Tsukushi replied. “I’m Shinozaki’s older sister.”

“His…older sister?”

Taking advantage of Shizuku’s confusion, Tsukushi fanned her nine tails to send a soft wave of air in the iso-onna’s direction.

Shizuku raised a muffled cry before going rigid. She’d fallen into a hypnotic trance.

Tsukushi sidled closer, bringing her lips close to the iso-onna’s ear. “Your memories of Kaede are actually of me,” she said. “Illusions I conjured. Tsukushi, the nine-tailed kitsune, commands you: forget Kaede.”

“As you wish,” promised Shizuku lifelessly.

“We took care of the paperwork for your full-time employment with no issue. There should be no discrepancies in your memories.”

If, by some chance, Shizuku had communicated with Kaede via text or email, she would mistake those messages as Tsukushi’s.

“Go now,” the nine-tailed fox said.

Shizuku nodded weakly and stood. Once the iso-onna left the office, Tsukushi opened Shino’s tablet, then transformed from an adult to a young girl.

“Now then,” she said to herself, “my next target is the chief priest of that old temple. The sheer number of ayakashi who saw Kaede’s face in Itoshima and Nakasu will be a problem, but a single priest should be easy to take care of.” She paused. “There’s also the black nekomata. If I nullify his contract with Kaede, he’ll run out of spiritual energy… I’ll leave him alone for now. I wouldn’t be able to sleep well if he died.”

The reception room sofa didn’t hurt her tail even when she sank into the cushions, she noticed. Upon closer inspection, she saw a gap in the couch near her lower back—presumably to prevent one’s tails from being squished. She couldn’t help but smile at her brother’s meticulous disposition.

“Well, well, you look like you’re having fun,” a voice said. “Lady of Chikushino.”

The door opened, and the fragrant scent of coffee filled the room. A black Shiba Inu—half beast, half woman—settled on the opposite sofa, setting her coffee mug on the table.

“I can’t get enough of the light roast,” the Shiba Inu said. “Something about the acidity makes me think, ‘Yes, this makes my human form worth it!’” As she spoke, she morphed into a tall woman, her long legs spilling out of her modest skirt. Lustrous, black hair cascaded over the backrest of the couch like a bridal kimono. Fluffy ears, thicker than a fox’s, perked atop her head like two pieces of burnt toast.

“Princess Hainu,” Tsukushi said. “If you think living as a human is so delightful, why do you usually go around as a dog?”

The shapeshifting canine shrugged theatrically. She had sharp features, large eyes, and expressive, jet-black brows.

“Do you even need to ask?” Princess Hainu smiled. “If I didn’t assume a canine form, you wouldn’t let me work for your little brother, would you? Given your attachment to him.”

“Good point. I would tear you to shreds.”

Princess Hainu offered Tsukushi a cup of coffee.

Throughout the ages, many powerful leaders, including Toyotomi Hideyoshi, had favored Princess Hainu. Tsukushi had to admit their fine taste. Princess Hainu possessed spiritual energy rooted in the land itself. Even a nine-tailed fox would be unwise to challenge her. In addition to wielding the fury of nature, she had a long history and strong ties with other powerful forces.

Princess Hainu studied Tsukushi carefully. “Do you really intend to separate your little brother from Kaede?”

“This is the perfect opportunity, no? I want to finally free him from this cursed fate.”

“Cursed, eh?” Princess Hainu folded her legs insinuatingly. “If you think being shackled to heartbreak is a curse, is excessive love between siblings not as well?”

“My love isn’t excessive.” Tsukushi, the beautiful, young-looking fox, smirked and puffed out her chest. “Shino and I are twins. We’ve been inseparable since time immemorial. There aren’t two other siblings like us in the entire world.”

“Well, yes, that sort of thing did tend to happen in the old days.”

“Some things don’t change, no matter how many ages pass. Thank you for the coffee.”

Tsukushi stood. Leaving the office building, she murmured, “This is what’s best. For Kaede and Shino’s sake.”

🍁🍁🍁

“GOODNESS.” After watching the nine-tailed fox leave, Hainuzuka sipped her lukewarm coffee alone. “Once you start acting for the sake of others and the world, the end always justifies the means, doesn’t it?”

How long has it been since I spent time in my human form?

Hainuzuka—Princess Hainu—loved her natural canine body. She remained flexible about her appearance though, based on the era and her interlocutor. She loved that freedom as well.

“Will erasing Kaede’s memories go as well as she hopes?” Hainuzuka chuckled to herself. “After all, she has yet to remove the sigil on her chest.”

Tsukushi claimed her every deed was for the sake of her little brother. But the mark of her master-servant relationship with Sakura remained intact although she’d forced Shinozaki to remove his.

“She says no one is more important to her than her little brother,” Hainuzuka mused. “But is that true, I wonder? Well, as long as she has the sigil, she won’t be able to fully deceive her master, regardless of whether she’s a nine-tailed fox.”

Kaede had inherited Sakura and Tsukushi’s active contract, and her immense spiritual energy would enable her to easily break the seal on her memories.

At least, if she were a typical spiritual practitioner.

A typical practitioner would have established countermeasures in case their familiar tried to trick them. But Kaede Kikui was an ordinary girl who knew nothing of the subject. Naturally, she had neglected to create any fail-safes against a rebellious fox in her service.

“Still…” Hainuzuka chuckled again. “Kaede isn’t normal enough to wish for an ordinarylife.”

Shinozaki, after centuries of heartbreak, had invited Kaede Kikui to his company. And in spite of her insistence that she wanted to be normal, Kaede wielded her spiritual energy instinctively. Furthermore, she’d become so at home in the world of ayakashi that one might think she’d been born into it.

“The tables always turn when least expected in this world,” Hainuzuka said to herself. “And I’m not the only one who doesn’t wish to part with Kaede.”

Hainuzuka couldn’t predict the future. Nevertheless, she didn’t think the situation would resolve itself that easily.

🍁🍁🍁

I stood at the intersection in front of Daimaru, a department store in Tenjin. September had arrived, and my job-hunting suit was sweltering in the late-summer heat.

Half a year had passed since I was laid off from my first job. After a short recuperation period, I’d started working at a certain company’s branch office in Tenjin.

The noonday sun was harsh without a parasol. I was dabbing my sweaty brow with a wet wipe, glancing up at the red traffic signal, when something pleasantly silky touched my ankle. Looking down, I saw the tail of a black cat brushing up my shin.

“Mrrow.”

The cat was slender and beautiful. Wrapping himself around the hem of my slacks, he stared up at me with pleading eyes.

“So cute.”

The traffic signal turned green. I picked up the cat and carried him across the intersection to prevent the crowd from trampling him. He was used to people, I guessed, given how he purred in my arms.

Reaching the entrance to Daimaru, I set him on the sidewalk. “Be careful, little fella,” I said. “Don’t run out into the street.”

“Mrrow.”

“Wait, are you going to follow me? Just what have I gotten myself into?”

The cat refused to leave, meowing at me incessantly for reasons I couldn’t comprehend. Hardening my heart, I turned to leave. A moment later, he leapt onto my back and dug his claws into me.

“Ow, ow, ow!” I yelped. “Wh-What are you—”

The cat hissed.

Then—

Pitter-patter.

It began to rain. The sudden downpour, cascading over my head like an overturned bucket, was at stark odds with the clear sky.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” I cried. “I was just on my way to work!”

I grabbed the cat, bolted beneath the arcade of Daimaru, and rummaged for a towel in my tote bag. I wrung out my hair, then dried the cat.

“Mrrow…” The cat lost his energy after our abrupt soaking, seeming to give up on something.

As I watched him reluctantly saunter off, a headache lanced one side of my skull. “Ugh,” I groaned. “I need to get to the office, change my shirt, and take some headache medicine, like, now.”

I always carried a towel and an extra shirt in my bag, as I was often caught in the rain lately. Of course, I also carried a folding umbrella, but I hadn’t pulled it out in time. And the rain always caused a migraine. Medicine helped, but it still hurt. And getting drenched had dampened my spirits as well.

“I need to get to work,” I mumbled. Heaving a sigh, I checked the time and hurried on my way.

🍁🍁🍁

MY memory was behaving strangely. I often couldn’t remember events from the past few months, a hazy cloud obscuring my recollection. Tsukushi and I started to hang out more during my unemployment, and when I told her about my forgetfulness, she introduced me to a doctor of psychosomatic medicine.

“You were under too much stress at your previous job,” the doctor said. “You’re probably still recovering from the fatigue.”

“Don’t overthink it,” Tsukushi encouraged me. “Just take it easy.”

Living at home allowed me to gradually improve my mental and physical health. After a while, however, I decided to begin working again.

“You already found a new job?” Tsukushi sounded surprised on the phone. “At an employment agency, no less?”

“Yep,” I replied. “I’m still being paid an hourly wage during my trial period. But for some reason, I wanted a position that would let me interact with all kinds of people.”

“…You’ve always done office work up till now, right? Why throw yourself into a new profession? What if the stress catches up to you again?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

Despite my laughter, Tsukushi remained concerned.

🍁🍁🍁

I was tidying my room after another workday. To my surprise, I spotted a Jellysh CD case standing prominently on my shelf. He’d become quite popular recently. Women adored him, of course, and his stunning voice and smooth dance moves had earned him plenty of male fans as well.

“Wait,” I muttered. “When did I get so into Jellysh?”

Yes, I often listened to Jellysh to fire myself up during my commute to work. Yet I mostly streamed music, so the discovery raised questions in my mind. These days, only diehard fans buy CDs to support their favorite artists. I didn’t remember being that into Jellysh. When I picked up the CD case and flipped it over, I found a sticky note with a date written on it.

“I borrowed this from someone, didn’t I?” I tried to recall the lender, and my memories were hazy. “Is it Tsukushi’s, by chance?” Just to be sure, I took a picture of the case and sent it to her. She responded immediately.

“Oh, right, I did borrow it from her,” I said to myself. “Just like I thought.”

I collapsed into bed, relief washing over me. “I’m exhausted…” I grumbled. I ducked my hand beneath the blankets and fumbled around for something fluffy.

“Hold on,” I said with a jolt. “What was I just looking for?”

Why had I been so certain that something was in bed with me? I barreled out the door, shivering with fright, and into the living room. My parents, ever the happy couple, were watching TV together. Their eyes widened at my sudden intrusion.

“What’s wrong?” asked Dad.

I took a deep breath to calm myself. “Do we, um, have a pet here?”

“A pet?”

“Yeah. Like a hamster or a cat.”

“Of course not,” Mom answered on my puzzled father’s behalf, shrugging and eyeing me suspiciously. “We would never adopt an animal. You’ve always liked them, but you insisted that you didn’t want a pet because Tsukushi wouldn’t approve.”

“Oh, right…” I mumbled. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

That was true. Even when we were children, Tsukushi always made a disapproving face when I tried to pet animals. As a result, I had never touched my friends’ dogs or other creatures at petting zoos.

Wait. In that case, why did I pick up a cat this afternoon without the slightest hesitation?

“Anyway, why don’t you watch TV with us if you want to look at animals?” My father grinned and pointed at the screen. “They’re showing a year in the life of an Ezo red fox.”

The fox, its winter coat impossibly fluffy, raced around a pure-white field of snow.

“A fox…” I murmured.

A headache began to pound behind my eyes. I stumbled back to my room and collapsed into bed once more, not wanting to worry my parents. My head feels like it’s about to split open. Why does it hurt so much?

Fragmented memories of the feel and color of a fox’s tail flashed through my mind. Each image caused another throb of pain.

A bushy tail peeking out of the center vent of a suit.

Furry ears drooping in response to spicy curry.

Sparkling fur, lustrous beneath the dazzling illumination of Nakasu at night.

That’s right. It was so cute how his tail wagged when he ate udon. And how his ears flattened when he couldn’t handle how spicy the curry was.

“Hold on,” I mumbled. “Fox ears? A tail?”

Where were these memories coming from? “Is this because of stress too?” I shuddered, horrified. I grabbed the headache medicine on my bedside table and swallowed one of the pills.

An instant later, thunder loud enough to shake the house boomed outside, pulsing in sync with my headache. I rose and opened the curtain. A flash of lightning carved through the darkness, illuminating the downpour.

“I should go to sleep.”

As the medicine started to take effect, I curled up beneath the blankets. The pills I’d received from Tsukushi’s doctor certainly worked.

All I want is to get used to my new job, put this weird headspace behind me, and start living a normal life.

🍁🍁🍁

THAT evening, Tsukushi walked the path approaching Kashii Shrine from Kashii Station.

Without warning, a shadow plummeted with a rustle of leaves from one of the roadside trees. As Tsukushi dodged out of the way, the shadow spun and blocked her path. The shadow—a slender nekomata—hissed at her, his fur bristling. “What did you do to my master?” he demanded.

“You mean Kaede?” Tsukushi shrugged theatrically. “I’m merely giving her a normal life. A simple, human existence free of danger.”

The cat had lived with humans for hundreds of years. Although modern humans rarely interacted with ayakashi, he should understand how things worked on the Near Shore.

“Please don’t worry,” Tsukushi said. “I won’t seal your memories. You’re too weak to stabilize your spiritual energy without Kaede, no? It would leave a bad taste in my mouth if I nullified your contract and you died.”

She walked past the black cat without sparing him a second glance. He hissed at her back, but the sound soon vanished from her consciousness. She had no time to waste on a cat. After all, she had something much better to look forward to at home.

🍁🍁🍁

TSUKUSHI stopped in front of a forest near Mount Tachibana and raised a hand toward the dense trees. A square outline expanded from her alabaster palm, tracing an opening into a shadowy magical barrier. A samurai estate, bathed in faint light, stood amid the darkness. Stepping through the barrier, she walked past the gate and entered the villa, then continued down a long corridor, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet.

A vast, rectangular room unfolded in the middle of the deserted manor. Her little brother hung from a straw rope above the many tatami mats.

“Is that you, Tsukushi?” he asked, glowering at her with dark, exhausted eyes.

“I’m home,” she replied. “Were you a good boy while I was gone?”

“You strung me from the ceiling and left me to rot. What do you take me for—a dried persimmon?”

“My, my, you’re much livelier than I expected.”

“Yeah,” Shino grumbled sarcastically. “I owe it all to you.”

Tsukushi channeled spiritual energy through the ropes binding him. She was healing him; he owed his liveliness to her. After stripping off his suit and cleansing his body, she’d dressed him in a hakama and suspended him from the beams above. She wanted to release him as soon as possible, but severing his contract with Kaede had rendered his spiritual energy unstable.

“You haven’t harmed her, have you?” growled Shino.

Tsukushi shook her head. “Of course not. I’m merely sealing the memories of ayakashi who interacted with her and adjusting her memory for consistency. I’ve had to cause sun shower after sun shower. Every little thing seems to jog her memory.”

“That much rain must be inconveniencing the people of Tenjin.”

“Indeed. A lot of them have started carrying umbrellas even when the forecast is clear.”

He frowned. “You make it sound like someone else’s problem.”

“True. It’s your fault for ever meeting Kaede.”

Shino fell silent, averting his gaze. He’d closed his heart to her. Yet he was as attached to Kaede as ever, evidently.

“Shino,” Tsukushi said, cupping her brother’s handsome face in her palm.

Physically, her brother had grown into a splendid male. From Tsukushi’s perspective, however, he remained the same adorable pup he’d been centuries previous. Back when they’d been two lonesome furballs.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll stay here until your work on the Near Shore is done. Likewise, I’ll release you once the seal on Kaede’s memory is stabilized.”

Shino sorted. “I’d prefer you release me sooner rather than later. You’ve left all the work to Hainuzuka, haven’t you?”

“Princess Hainu, you mean?” Tsukushi remembered the woman’s knowing smirk from earlier that afternoon. She had to force herself to smile at Shino to dispel the gloomy haze in her chest.

“I plan to stay on the Near Shore, posing as Kaede’s best friend, for a little while longer,” she said. “We’ll have roughly eighty short years to rekindle our sibling bond.” She embraced her silent brother and kissed his forehead lovingly. “Oh, Shino…”

His impassive expression twisted into a glare. “Don’t call me by my old name.”

“Rai Shinozaki is just an alias, no? A counterfeit name.”

Shino didn’t respond at first. Then his eyes widened as though he’d remembered something. “You still go by Tsukushi, don’t you?”

“…Yes,” she replied. “Is there something wrong with that?”

🍁🍁🍁

I was in terrible shape. My boss had sent me home early because my complexion was so poor. “My deepest apologies,” I murmured on my way out.

I stumbled through Tenjin’s underground mall toward the station. The crowd, mostly tourists and shoppers, was somewhat sparser in the afternoon compared to morning and evening. Yet the simple act of not bumping into people required my full concentration.

I need to make an appointment at the hospital. I’ve been doing everything right. Going to bed on time to wake up early, eating healthy meals, even exercising. So what gives?

“This is too much,” I said to myself. “I’ll stop by the pharmacy for some nutritional supplements before heading home.”

I beelined for the underground drugstore in an attempt to rally my spirits. Just as I passed beneath Solaria Stage, my phone chimed.

“Is it the office?” I wondered aloud.

The screen displayed a name in Gothic font. “Mr. Takahashi…?”

When saving people’s contact information, I used nicknames for my friends and family. For work associates, I typed their full name and included notes about our relationship. I hardly ever saved anyone as “Mr.” or “Mrs.” In any case, he had to be an acquaintance since it wasn’t an unknown number.

“Hello,” I said, answering warily. “This is Kikui.”

“Greetings, Lady Kaede!” a man responded in a cheerful voice.

Lady Kaede? I froze in confusion. No one had ever addressed me as lady before. Furthermore, he’d used my given name rather than Kikui.

“U-Um…” I stammered.

He didn’t seem to mind my bewilderment. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to reach you,” he said happily. “What a relief.”

I crouched in a corner of the underground mall. A wave of unease surged through me as I listened to his cheery, gentlemanly voice. My head pounded as though I were hungover. Even so, my intuition urged me not to flee the pain. Don’t take Tsukushi’s medicine.

“Mr. Takahashi, you’re…” I closed my eyes and pressed my hand to my forehead, struggling to overcome the ache. “You’re the samurai I met in Dazaifu, right?”

Muffled laughter echoed from the other end. “Indeed,” he said. “Your memories of me haven’t been tampered with, just as I suspected.”

I’d met Mr. Takahashi in a café in Dazaifu. The younger samurai had called him “milord.” Though his birth name was Shigetane Takahashi, historical records often referred to him by his dharma name: Jōun Takahashi. He was the father of Muneshige Tachibana and the father-in-law of Lady Ginchiyo.

“First things first, let’s meet and talk this over,” he said. “Are you free right now?”

“Yes. I’m in Tenjin Underground Mall.”

“I’m in front of the giant screen at the station. I just arrived in Tenjin a little while ago.”

“Understood. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

While some of my memories were returning, I didn’t remember everything. As I spoke to Mr. Takahashi on the phone, my headache grew increasingly intense. “Ignorance is bliss!” the pounding in my skull shouted at me. After hanging up, I exited the underground mall, my racing pulse urging me onward.

🍁🍁🍁

A straight-backed man in a full-length coat stood in front of a florist shop beside the giant screen. Flowers bloomed in profusion behind the glass.

“Lady Kaede,” he said, turning to face me.

As soon as our eyes met, the veneer concealing my memories shattered with an audible crack.

“Mr. Takahashi,” I said. “It’s been too long. I remember everything now—all my memories as Kaede, at least.”

“Excellent.” The tall, handsome gentleman smiled, his eyes piercing straight into my soul. “I’ll be blunt. Do you want to see Shino again, Lady Kaede?”

“Am I not too late?”

“Let me ask another question.” His tone was serious. “Are you prepared to spend the rest of your life with Shino? Sealing your memories is your only chance of returning to your existence as a normal young lady. On the other hand, if you choose to pursue Shino, you will be forever entangled with the supernatural.” His words were harsh yet filled with compassion. “If you wish to return to your normal life, I’ll make you forget everything about ayakashi once more.”

“Thank you for looking out for me.”

Why was an ancient samurai showing me so much kindness? We’d hardly interacted during our one and only meeting. I took a deep breath, warmth filling my chest.

“Mr. Takahashi,” I said. “I want to see Shino and Tsukushi again. I don’t want to pretend our relationship never existed.”

“Excellent,” he said again with a firm nod.

🍁🍁🍁

APPARENTLY, Mr. Takahashi didn’t know Shinozaki and Tsukushi’s current location. Nevertheless, we decided to take the subway to Hakata Station based on a lead he’d found.

As we walked, he explained why the seal on my memories had broken. “I visited my retainer at his temple the other day. During our conversation, I realized that he didn’t remember you. When I caught the familiar scent of a certain vixen, however, everything snapped into place: his memories of you had been erased.”

We tapped our transit cards against the automatic ticket gate, descended the stairs, and came to a stop on the subway platform. He moved through the station as naturally as a present-day human.

“Shino and Tsukushi have no idea the two of us met,” he said. “I never told Shino that I would be accompanying my retainer to help with the paperwork. After all, I expected Shino to flee if he knew I would be there. Alas, I still wasn’t able to see him.” Mr. Takahashi shrugged. “In any case, nothing about our meeting was in his company records.”

“So that’s why your memories weren’t erased?”

“Precisely. When you spoke to me, your spiritual energy exploded from within, destroying Tsukushi’s seal.”

I bowed my head deeply. “Thank you so much.”

Mr. Takahashi laughed. “Raise your head. I’ve done nothing to earn such gratitude.”

“But why are you doing so much to help me?”

“Well, that’s an easy enough question to answer.” He glanced at the parents and children waiting on the busy platform. A young father cradled a sleeping child in his arms. They must have been returning from an exciting day out.

Mr. Takahashi regarded them with a tender, wistful expression. “I loved you all as family,” he said. “Shino, Tsukushi, and even Sakura—your past self.”

“As family?”

“My son married into the family that you three served.”

“Um… That was the Tachibana clan, right?”

“Indeed,” he said. “Personally, I didn’t use shapeshifting foxes as familiars, but I often rode into battle with the Tachibana clan. Since the kitsune were employed as scouts and spies, I frequently crossed paths with them.”

“Oh, I see. That does explain the connection.”

I hadn’t known the extent of the relationship between the Takahashi and Tachibana clans. Really, I knew embarrassingly little about the past.

Mr. Takahashi chuckled at my obvious ignorance.

“I’m so sorry if I’ve offended you,” I said. “I definitely need to brush up on history.”

“I’m not the least bit offended. Some things are better left unknown.” He studied me fondly. “The more time I spend with you, the more I realize how much you resemble Sakura.”

“We’re that alike?”

“Not necessarily in appearance. It’s something about the way you carry yourself, though I can’t quite put it into words… Oh, the train’s here.” He winked at me as he boarded the subway. “I do my best to live virtuously. Helping you is for my own peace of mind as much as it is for your sake. Think nothing of it.”

“Th-Thank you,” I managed.

What kind of samurai can pull off a wink? I’d nearly missed the train, stunned by his debonair demeanor.

🍁🍁🍁

UPON arriving at Hakata Station, Mr. Takahashi and I immediately split up. We’d devised a plan on the train, and I was to idle near the roundabout in front of the station.

I spotted far more men in suits than I would in Tenjin, unsurprising given our location was near the business district. Department stores lined the Hakata entrance to the station, and the gorgeously illuminated area hosted many events. Conversely, the Chikushi entrance brought a faux commercial jingle to mind.

Tourists in suits! Tourists in suits, suits, suits! Have ramen for lunch and hit the pub at night!

I spent ten minutes near the roundabout, mindlessly counting taxis. A van screeched to a halt in front of me much sooner than expected.

“Why hello there!” came the familiar voice. “How are you on this fine day, Miss Kikui? Lovely weather we’re having, wouldn’t you say? Have you finally decided to come work for me?”

A slender man with long, black hair and elegant, round glasses stuck his head out of the van window. His rapid-fire speech and excessive friendliness, combined with his penchant for drama, made him seem like a comedian. Nonetheless, he was strikingly handsome.

“Xu Fu,” I said. “You actually came.”

“Quickly, quickly. Hop in, and we can chat somewhere more comfortable. Or if you’re ready to sign the contract posthaste, I have the documents right here.”

“No, um, hold on a moment, please.”

Xu Fu tried to pull me into the van, grinning all the while. As he reached for me, Mr. Takahashi materialized by my side and grabbed his hand.

“Wha—?!” cried Xu Fu.

“I thought you might appear if Lady Kaede stood here alone,” Mr. Takahashi said. “Looks like I was right.”

Xu Fu’s purple eyes widened as he regarded the samurai. “Hold on!” he spluttered. “Why are you with Lady Kaede, good sir?!”

“I’ll get straight to the point,” Mr. Takahashi said. “Kindly take us to the shapeshifting foxes of Chikushino—Tsukushi and Shino.”

Xu Fu furrowed his brow. “Pardon? I’m not sure I understand your request. What is this about all of a sudden?”

“We need the location of the shapeshifting foxes of Chikushino. Don’t play dumb. You know where they are, yes?”

Despite his beauty, Mr. Takahashi could be incredibly forthright. He skewered right through Xu Fu’s seeming bafflement.

“If you must know,” Xu Fu answered flatly, “I haven’t the faintest idea where they are. How would I, a simple, virtuous fangshi, know where foxes make their dens? We operate in completely different territories.”

“Is that so?” Mr. Takahashi leaned forward. “Say, Lord Jofuku, haven’t you expanded your onsen business to Futsukaichi?”

“Well, yes, but what of it?”

“And your ayakashi patrons sometimes visit Dazaifu for sightseeing, no?”

Xu Fu froze momentarily. “My…guests might visit Dazaifu of their own volition, true, but it has nothing to do with me.”

“Oh? Are you sure that’s wise? A certain lord and I are hoping to remain on friendly terms with you, the two-thousand-year-old fangshi.”

By “a certain lord,” did he mean Sugawara no Michizane? I nearly spoke the name out loud before clamping my mouth shut. Shinozaki said to call him Professor M.

“Ugh…” Xu Fu groaned. “Threats aside, I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

“Lord Jofuku,” murmured Mr. Takahashi, leaning into the other man and slamming his hand against the van.

Now kiss! Wait, what the heck am I thinking?!

“The other ayakashi in Hakata aren’t blind to your poaching here,” the samurai said. “Shino—no, Shinozaki—has built a mutually beneficial relationship with you by acting as a buffer, has he not?”

“Do you, um, mind backing up a little?” asked Xu Fu.

“You want to maintain your relationship with Shinozaki as well, don’t you?”

“Fine, fine. It’s not as though the vixen asked anything of me.” His tone reluctant, Xu Fu shrugged and opened the van’s back door. “Why don’t you come inside, and we can chat?”

As soon as we climbed in, he snapped his fingers and—

We were suddenly standing in the entryway of a traditional Japanese inn.

“What the heck?!” I shrieked. I stepped through the entrance, peering left and right, but couldn’t see Xu Fu anywhere.

High-pitched laughter echoed around us as if through a PA system. “Ahaha! Gotcha, suckers!” jeered Xu Fu. “Did you really expect to get anything out of me so easily? Honestly, I don’t mind sharing what I know, but where’s the fun in telling you without getting anything in return?”

“Wh-What do you want in return?” I asked.

“If you come work for me, Kikui, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Seriously?!” Panic seized my chest.

Beside me, Mr. Takahashi rubbed his chin. “Aha,” he chuckled, sounding impressed. “Played us like a fiddle, didn’t he?”

“What should we do?”

Mr. Takahashi strode farther into the inn without answering, so I followed. The hallway twisted and turned with no end in sight. Worse, the doors we opened led to the same rooms and gardens. We were clearly dealing with sorcery; even an amateur like me could tell that much.

“He likely intends to trap us in this labyrinth until we yield,” Mr. Takahashi said. He scrutinized the corridor. “Breaking the enchantment with my power will prove somewhat difficult. However, so long as we’re in the labyrinth, we won’t be subject to the flow of time on the Near Shore.”

“What does that mean?”

“No matter how much time passes, we won’t age or grow hungry. In other words, we’ll be trapped in this so-called innforever.”

“So…we could just go goblin mode?” I asked.

“Rather than trembling in fear, you’re more concerned with indulging in degeneracy?” Mr. Takahashi smiled at me, testing the wall in front of him with his hand. “But rejoice, Lady Kaede, for this is the perfect opportunity.”

“For what, exactly?”

He muttered something under his breath, drawing a sharp line through the air with his finger. Afterward, he kneeled to slap both hands against the floor. A moment later, a pair of towering oni, one black and one red, appeared on either side of us. Straw ropes fettered their bodies, and flames wreathed their hands. Their terrifyingly divine visages rendered me speechless.

The two oni were large enough to pierce through the ceiling. Yet, strangely, it lifted and warped around them. Could this labyrinth be more overpowered?

“Unbelievable…” I murmured, otherwise still speechless.

Mr. Takahashi grinned at me mischievously. “I can’t use foxes as familiars, but I do have a few tricks up my sleeve. After all, I was born in a temple.”

“Sorry, but does being born in a temple have anything to do with this?”

“More importantly…” He pointed at my new, unbroken Hayakaken card. “Lady Kaede. Lord Jofuku has been kind enough to provide us with ample time and space. Allow me—a former human—to teach you a thing or two about sorcery.”

🍁🍁🍁

“PHEW,” sighed Xu Fu, sinking into a single-seat sofa. “That nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Court ladies in ruqun materialized from thin air. One massaged his shoulders, another cooled him with a folding fan, and yet another began to prepare tea. Xu Fu took off his glasses, surrendering to the lavish treatment. He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and exhaled deeply.

“I hate getting wrapped up in this sort of trouble,” he said. “Hopefully, they give up before too long. I wouldn’t have anything to worry about if it were just the girl, but that samurai is bad news.”

Still, no use fretting about it.

As he began to doze off, something heavy fell into his lap.

“Who’s that?”

“Why don’t you open your eyes, Lord Fangshi?”

When he did, he found a young vixen sitting on his stomach. Long hair cascaded down her back, and her cheeks puffed sullenly. Despite her cute appearance, her nine tails radiated less-than-adorable spiritual energy. She wasn’t a creature to be trifled with, he thought, considering how easily she’d broken into his inn.

The kitsune’s golden eyes glared up at him. “Didn’t you promise not to lay a hand on Kaede?” she asked.

“Did I? If anything, I would prefer you didn’t drag me into this Tenjin-forsaken mess.”

Silence fell over the room as they stared each other down. Neither of them lashed out physically. Powerful spiritual beings adhered to an unspoken policy of conflict avoidance. A battle between a thousand-year-old kitsune and a two-thousand-year-old fangshi would be a fight to the death. Thus far, the two had maintained an inoffensive relationship, vowing never to intrude upon each other’s territories.

But a certain young woman, a novice with strange, overflowing spiritual energy, threatened that truce.

“To begin with…” he said, “if Kaede Kikui decides to work here of her own free will, could you deny her that right?”

“Kaede would never do such a thing,” the vixen replied.

“She very well might. You have no choice but to hope she doesn’t.”

The vixen fell silent, her ears trembling slightly.

“Why didn’t you nullify your contract with her?” Xu Fu’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “You forced your little brother to admit that Kaede is a different person from her past life, no? In that case, why do you still treasure your bond with the present Kaede?”

“I have a duty to watch over her because of her spiritual energy. I have to prevent the likes of you from taking advantage of her, seeing as she’s a complete amateur.”

“Won’t even admit you love her, eh?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the nine-tailed vixen’s eyes flashed. Lightning struck the room, followed by a clap of thunder.

Xu Fu’s attendants turned to smoke and vanished. He, meanwhile, simply brushed aside the bolt with a flick of his sleeve. “My, my, how terrifying,” he said, his smile unfaltering. “But when it comes to women and foxes, I’ve decided to always run the other way.”

Clucking her tongue, the kitsune lowered her raised hand. “In any case, I’ll never relinquish Kaede. Never for any reason whatsoever.”

“I hate to repeat myself,” Xu Fu replied, “but a mere vixen has no right to make that decision.”

She fell silent again.

“Well now,” he said, “quite some time has passed since I trapped Kaede in my labyrinth. The samurai is accustomed to tests of endurance, of course, but an ordinary girl? She’ll be begging to leave before too—”

Heavy footfalls thundered toward the room.

🍁🍁🍁

“LISTEN closely, Lady Kaede.” Mr. Takahashi looked at the two oni kneeling before him, the creatures’ hands still burning. “Different people have different strengths and weaknesses with regard to sorcery. As a devoted practitioner of sadhana who’s been accustomed to oni since birth, I’ve overcome my weaknesses to a certain degree. Unfortunately, however, you’re a complete novice. You don’t have any foundational knowledge or experience.”

I blinked in surprise. At some point, he had donned a full-length, gauze coat over his suit. The sheer fabric of the garment—the coat a bizarre blend of monk’s vestment and Western jacket—flapped in a nonexistent breeze.

“Thanks to my family’s background, I practiced sadhana before my death,” he was saying. “As a result, I’ve never struggled to use sorcery since becoming an ayakashi.”

“Oh,” I said. “So being born in a temple does matter.”

“Yet your instincts are surprisingly sharp for a beginner.”

“My instincts?”

“You channel spiritual energy almost entirely through intuition,” he clarified. “In all likelihood, the sealing of your other supernatural abilities honed that intuition.” He pointed at me. “Lady Kaede. We’ll use that perhaps-too-sensitive instinct of yours to escape this labyrinth.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Won’t know until we try, will we?” He plucked the Hayakaken card from my tote bag. “Pardon me,” he said, then stuck it to my forehead. “Close your eyes, Lady Kaede, and imagine Chikamaru’s smiling face with every ounce of concentration you can muster.”

The prairie dog mascot? “Ch-Chikamaru…” I murmured. At the same time, I could sense Mr. Takahashi stepping away.

“Lady Kaede,” he said from a distance. “Keep your eyes closed and focus on your forehead. Try to see my spiritual energy.”

“‘See’ it?”

“Precisely. Take your time. Eventually, you’ll be able to locate my spiritual energy within the darkness.”

I concentrated, only half-convinced I could pull off such a feat. A little while later though, a small flash to my right prickled my awareness. It reminded me of a sudden glimpse of a minuscule star in the night sky.

“There!” I cried. “I saw something to my right! Oh, it just moved!”

“Yes, keep going!” Mr. Takahashi could barely contain his enthusiasm. “Lady Kaede. Try to see Lord Jofuku in the same manner. Follow his spiritual energy without opening your eyes.”

“Y-You think I can do it?”

“Of course. Chikamaru and I are cheering you on. Give it one final push!”

“Yes, sir!”

He really knows how to fire someone up. Well, what else did I expect? He’s a legendary warlord who held a castle under siege by 35,000 soldiers with only 763 men of his own. So I can do this!

I trailed Xu Fu’s spiritual energy, focusing on my forehead as motivation burned within me. “Mr. Takahashi!” I exclaimed. “I can see something like a thin string!”

“Well done!” he cheered. “Now then, run forward with your eyes closed!”

“Do you want me to face-plant on the floor?!”

“Don’t worry. You noticed how the inn distorted to accommodate my two oni, didn’t you? That’s true of everything around us. At any rate, it’s time to run, not think! I’ll be right behind you!”

“G-Got it!”

“Full speed ahead!”

I broke into a sprint. Behind came the footfalls of Mr. Takahashi’s leather boots and the thunderous stomping of the two oni. Strangely, I didn’t bump into anything, just as he’d assured me. I tracked the string with intense concentration, and before long, I spotted our goal—Xu Fu’s dazzling spiritual energy.

“There he is!” I shouted, leaping into the light with all my strength.

🍁🍁🍁

“STOP right there, Xu Fu!” I cried.

Somehow, we really had broken out of the labyrinth. I spun around. Mr. Takahashi, behind me, crossed his arms with a resolute nod.

“Unbelievable,” mumbled Xu Fu, stiffening as his eyes widened in shock. “I half-assed that labyrinth, sure, but a novice shouldn’t have been able to just bust out of it.”

As I jabbed my finger in his direction, I sensed something odd. “Huh? Is it just my imagination, or is there a strange smell in the air?”

Mr. Takahashi chuckled. “I already know who it belongs to.”

“Hold on a second. I want to guess for myself.”

“Good luck.”

My spiritual senses were sharper than ever. The answer arrived before I even had time to think. “I’ve got it! Tsukushi was here, wasn’t she?!”

“Indeed,” the samurai replied.

Xu Fu furrowed his brow in displeasure. “Right you are.”

When he said nothing more, I bowed my head to him. “Please, Xu Fu, tell me where Tsukushi and Shinozaki are!”

He shot a half-lidded glare at Mr. Takahashi. “How, good sir, did you train her so thoroughly in such a short amount of time?”

“I did nothing,” insisted Mr. Takahashi. “She achieved this through her own effort and courage. Well done, Lady Kaede.”

“Th-Thank you!”

“Spare me,” Xu Fu grumbled, pursing his lips in disgust like a high school girl. “There’s nothing I hate more than a smooth talker. Guys like you give me the ick.” He stood with an air of resignation. “Well, no matter. If you keep improving at the same rate, Kikui, all the better for me when I poach you.”

Mr. Takahashi laughed. “She’ll only continue to grow, Lord Jofuku. If you’re going to poach someone, it’s better to select a talented individual with experience. In that sense, if you truly intend to recruit her, returning her to Shino for a while would be wise, no?”

“You make a fair point,” Xu Fu conceded. “Training this inexperienced oddball from the ground up wouldn’t give me the most bang for my buck.”

He looked up and let out a deep breath. The room wavered like haze, and we returned to the inside of the van.

My eyes widened. We were still in front of the Chikushi entrance of Hakata Station. We were actually in the van the whole time, weren’t we?

“Buckle up,” Xu Fu said. “If we’re going, we might as well make it quick.” He started the car, peeled out of the roundabout, and merged onto the highway. Gradually, we neared a familiar area.

“Um, where are we going, exactly?” I queried.

“A place you know very well,” he replied.

“My, uh, parents’ house?”

He rolled his eyes. “Why in Tenjin’s name would we be going there?”

“I see,” said Mr. Takahashi beside me. “The foxes are still atop Mount Tachibana, are they?”

The van sped down the highway, and soon, we exited at the Higashi Ward interchange and headed toward the base of Mount Tachibana.

As Xu Fu drove us up a mountain road barely wide enough to accommodate the van, I gazed out the window. The leaves had started to turn red and gold with autumn’s advent. “This reminds me of climbing Mount Tachibana on field trips,” I murmured, admiring them.

“Oh?” said Mr. Takahashi. “Children in Higashi Ward are taking field trips here now? I had no idea.”

I nodded. “Yep. Since I live on the seaward side of Kashii Station, I rarely make it out here by myself. But come to think of it, I did visit the mountain several times with Tsukushi.”

“Ah. Perhaps she wanted you to remember your past life.”

“Mr. Takahashi?”

“Yes?”

“Back in Yanagawa, Tsukushi erased my memories without giving me a choice. After that, she and Shinozaki left without saying goodbye. Am I being a nuisance by barging in uninvited?”

“If I said you were being a nuisance, would you turn around and go home?”

I met the samurai’s gaze and shook my head. “Even if we have to go our separate ways, I want to tell them how I feel as Kaede, not Sakura.”

“Letting others know how you feel is important, especially if you love them.” He smiled gently and refolded his legs as his eyes grew distant. “Just before my death, I received a letter from my worried son, whom I’d sent to marry into another family.”

A wistful shadow fell over Mr. Takahashi’s profile. “He urged me to retreat so that we could fight together. But I didn’t answer his plea. After all, that battle was my final duty. I had resolved to lay down my life for it. My son understood that, of course, yet he still sent me that final letter.”

“Mr. Takahashi…”

I knew only the faintest outline of his life, which I’d skimmed on the Internet. His small band of men had withstood the siege of a much larger army for a period of time. In the end, their sacrificial last stand allowed reinforcements to come to his son’s aid. Mere words on a screen had already conveyed his heroism to me. Yet, to see the actual man sitting beside me, an amiable smile on his face, filled me with a sense of wonder.

“Telling your loved ones how you feel is a wonderful thing,” he said, “whether it changes the outcome or not. At the very least, I deeply appreciated my son’s concern.”

“Mr. Takahashi…” I mumbled again.

“For you to speak your mind, however, we need fertile ground for conversation. Otherwise, the foxes will run away again.”

“Exactly. That’s what I’m worried about.”

“So what should we do to ensure they don’t run away?” He considered. “Hmm… Perhaps I should teach you one of my tricks.”

“Really?!”

“Indeed. I’ve got you covered.” He whispered his idea into my ear. The ingenious plan, simple and easy to understand, caused my heart to race with excitement.

“Thank you so much! I’ll give it a shot!”

“Are you two done talking yet?” Xu Fu had parked on the shoulder and was eyeing us in the rearview mirror. “Hold on tight. I’m about to catapult us there using spiritual energy.”

“Huh? What do you—”

I felt the van lift off the ground and snapped my eyes shut. When we alighted once more, I opened them to find myself standing outside the van somewhere deep within the mountain forest.

“Where are we?” I muttered. The wondrous surroundings appeared woven from illusion. Crimson autumn leaves canopied the area like a dome of fire.

As I glanced around in awe, Xu Fu tapped my shoulder and nodded toward my feet. “Look,” he said. “Those are the hokora of the Chikushino siblings.”

“Huh? I don’t see anything…”

Then I squinted at my feet. Sure enough, two fist-sized rocks nestled against each other under a layer of leaf litter. They were so overgrown with moss that I hadn’t noticed them at first. Kneeling on the ground, I brushed aside fallen leaves and dirt to reveal the stones.

“Shinozaki…” I said under my breath. “Tsukushi…”

Mr. Takahashi crouched down on one knee beside me. Reverently, he rubbed the remaining moss and grime off the rocks. “Shino and Tsukushi are old divinities,” he told me. “Originally, they were beasts of nature, not spirits that dwelled in hokora or torii.”

I touched one of the stones, and a sequence of scenes flashed through my mind.

Two foxes racing through an ocean of golden rice, harbingers of prosperity.

People offering thanks to the two foxes. Although the humans’ language and clothes were completely different from mine, their smiles were the same as any modern person’s.

The two foxes transformed into young, human siblings. They ran side by side, holding hands and squealing with delight.

As a pair, they were perfect. As a pair, they were eternal.

A flurry of cherry blossom petals washed away the ocean of golden rice ears. Amid the swirling blooms, a girl took the hand of another beautiful girl, and they dashed toward the two foxes.

The first girl dove at the pair. As the three of them roughhoused, their laughter echoing across the field, the beautiful girl observed them with a warm smile.

The cherry blossom petals disappeared, and the world darkened.

The elder sister strangling her younger brother.

His flight to a human settlement to escape her.

The elder sister, alone, mournfully watching his back fade into the distance.

“Lady Kaede,” a voice said as something nudged my shoulder. “Lady Kaede.”

I jolted back to my senses.

Mr. Takahashi was peering at me with concern. “Are you well? You appeared engulfed in memory.”

“Oh, um, yes. Thanks a million.”

“Your massive spiritual energy puts you at risk as a novice,” said Xu Fu. He shrugged and turned to leave. “You need to make up with your fox pals and start practicing sadhana pronto.”

Mr. Takahashi smiled. “Leave the car for us, won’t you, Lord Jofuku?”

“That’s quite the favor you’re asking.”

I heard footsteps crunching toward us through fallen leaves. Somehow, I recognized the newcomer solely by his gait.

“Kaede,” he said hoarsely.

Turning, I saw a beautiful man in white robes emerging from the flaming backdrop of scarlet leaves.

“…Why did you come here?” asked Shinozaki.

Silently, I moved one foot back. Assuming a low stance for but a millisecond, I thrust my palm forward with all my might.

“KAMEHAMEHA!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

“Wha—?!” he spluttered.

My Hayakaken beam blew Shinozaki backward, and he skidded across the forest floor before slamming into the base of the tree. Since I’d merely intended to catch him off guard, the beam was harmless save for its force.

“Excellent!” cheered Mr. Takahashi with a fist pump. “A direct hit!”

A samurai doing a fist pump? Now I’ve seen everything.

“What the hell?!” Shinozaki, covered in dirt and dead leaves, rose to his feet. His ears and tail bristled. “Hold it right there! Did you just ambush me?!”

“You’re the one who ambushed me!” I fired back. “You erased my memories without permission and then ditched me, remember?!”

“And that makes it okay for you to bombard me with spiritual energy on sight?!” Shinozaki’s eyes landed on Mr. Takahashi. “Oh, I see! That blasted samurai put you up to this, didn’t he?!”

“I merely taught her an artful negotiation tactic.” Mr. Takahashi folded his arms and puffed out his chest. “What’s the problem?”

Shinozaki narrowed his eyes. “Stop teaching modern girls how to negotiate like ancient warlords!”

“Well then, I’ll take my leave now.” The warlord threw up a peace sign in farewell. Then, pausing, he looked between me and Shinozaki, his gaze tender if somewhat serious. “Shino, Lady Kaede. Make sure you hear each other out. Few things are more tragic than a relationship ended by misunderstanding.”

“Sensei…” I murmured.

“I didn’t teach you enough to earn the title of sensei. If you must address me with an honorific, let it be senpai. I’ll be waiting should you ever wish to learn more from me.”

“Thanks, senpai!”

“Wait,” interjected Shinozaki, “when did you two get so cozy? I haven’t even been gone that long.”

Ignoring him, Mr. Takahashi pivoted and walked briskly to the van.

“Good heavens,” Xu Fu said with a sigh. “I’m exhausted.”

“Enough of that,” Mr. Takahashi replied. “Why don’t we stop for tempura on the way back since we’re already here?”

“At Hirano? Hmm… I’d rather hop on the highway and head straight home.”

The two men left us on the mountainside. Before long, the sound of the engine faded into the distance.

They’re…leaving?

“Hold on,” I said. “Did they just ditch us? What? Is the van actually gone?”

“They probably intend for me to see you back safely after our conversation.” Shinozaki wiped the detritus from his white robes, heaving a sigh of resignation. He looked me directly in the eye. “Kaede. You need to leave now.”

“No. If you run away, I’ll hit you with my Hayakaken beam again.”

“Cut that out. We’re having a serious conversation here.”

A gust of wind rattled the trees, producing a sound far louder than it should have. The autumn leaves stirred at our feet and spiraled into the air to cause a small vortex between us.

I took a step toward Shinozaki. “You promised to take responsibility when you absorbed my spiritual energy, didn’t you?”

“You don’t have to worry about your spiritual energy any—”

“I’m not talking about that.” I took a deep breath, then said forcefully, “Aren’t you going to take responsibility for kissing me? For my feelings for you?”

“Would you like me to help you find a husband?”

“If you don’t see me romantically because I’m not Sakura, just say so. I’ll give up then.”

“No, that’s not it.” He shook his head, his expression pained. “I promise that’s not it.”

He wasn’t trying to escape. I breathed a sigh of relief. He would talk to me.

“I don’t want to make you miserable,” he said. “Like I did Sakura.”

“So you’re abandoning a woman you have feelings for because you don’t want to make her miserable? How self-important can you be? I’ll decide for myself if I’m unhappy, thank you very much. Besides…”

I clenched my fists and took another step toward him. His eyes watered as I looked up at him, and the sight of his face reminded me how much I loved him. I could accept our parting, though it would splinter my heart. But I still needed to state one very important point.

“It’s not for you to decide if Sakura was unhappy either,” I said.

He inhaled sharply.

“I don’t know my past self,” I admitted. “Even so, I think she was happy. She might have been an orphan in the Sengoku period, but she found a place to work thanks to her abilities. She didn’t have to worry about food, clothing, or shelter. She enjoyed a comfortable existence, befriending ayakashi and noble samurai alike. She loved and worked with all her might, never letting go of her dream.”

“She died at the bottom of a well after being cursed!” roared Shinozaki, his voice breaking. “How can you call that happy?!”

“At the very least, she chose her fate!” I shouted.

His eyes widened.

I prayed for my words to reach the innermost depths of his heart, his lonely heart besieged by remorse for hundreds of years. “She could have run away at any time,” I said. “Instead, she lived her utmost until the very end! She was reborn as me in Higashi Ward because she was happy! She wanted to stay in the shadow of Mount Tachibana, where she’d lived with all her loved ones!”

“No… No, you’re wrong. Sakura would have been so much happier if she hadn’t met me!”

“Shinozaki. Do your best to remember the real Sakura. Don’t let your regret twist her into someone sad and pathetic!”

“She— Sakura was…” He trailed off.

“According to Tsukushi, Sakura never bemoaned her circumstances. She didn’t resent Lady Ginchiyo. She lived with all her heart to the very end. Can you not accept the pride she felt in fulfilling her role?”

Shinozaki’s tail trembled. The tall, handsome man stared at me with the eyes of a lost child. When I stood on tiptoe to hug him, his breath caught.

I pulled us closer and rubbed his back, hoping to relax his rigid body and hardened heart. “I have to admit it must have been lonely for you,” I murmured. “You were waiting and she never showed up in the end.”

“I…” he choked.

“Of course, how could anyone bear the thought of their loved one dying in a faraway, unknown place? I can’t deny how heartbroken you must have been. So allow me to apologize on Sakura’s behalf: I’m sorry.”

“You’re not Sakura.” Despite his chastising tone, he wasn’t angry. “So don’t apologize, Kaede.”

My chest warmed when he said my name. “Guess not, huh?”

He gently returned my backrub as, almost to himself, he mumbled, “To begin with, it was wrong for a fox and his master to couple.”

“It’s the Reiwa Era, dummy. Even international and gay marriages are the norm nowadays. A shapeshifting fox and a human are hardly a problem.” I paused for a beat. “Thank Tenjin, right?”

Shinozaki fell silent.

I tightened my embrace. “Don’t reject me because you’re scared of making me miserable,” I said. “Don’t reject me because of my past life. Don’t reject me because I’m a human and you’re a fox. If you’re not interested in me, reject me. If you give me that much, I’ll be able to cry and move on.”

“I…”

A large shape fluttered down from the trees to land lightly on the ground.

“Shino,” Tsukushi said. “You’ve lost. And so have I.”

“Tsukushi…” he and I whispered at the same time.

She smiled, a touch of melancholy in her eyes. “I’m glad you can still say my name with so much kindness, Kaede.”

Nine tails spilled out of her white dress, and pointed ears poked from her golden-brown hair. Evidently, she didn’t plan to hide today.

She walked over to us and placed her forehead against Shinozaki’s back. “Now that Kaede has regained her spiritual energy and chased you all the way here, I can no longer defy her. After all, she and I are still master and servant.” Tsukushi shrugged. “I admit defeat. I did everything I could to make the people I love—Kaede, Sakura, and my little brother—happy. But I was just being meddlesome, wasn’t I?”

She drew back reluctantly, then smiled at us, her hair whipping in the wind. “The rest is up to you, Shino. I’ll go to the Far Shore by myself, so you don’t have to worry about my meddling any longer. I’m sorry for being so manipulative.”

“Wha—?!” I yelped. I slipped out of Shinozaki’s arms and grabbed Tsukushi’s hands.

“K-Kaede?” she stammered, her eyes going wide. She looked so similar to Shinozaki with her golden-brown hair.

“Why are you leaving?” I demanded, leaning close to her beautiful face.

“Huh?”

“Is there some reason you have to go? Why not stay?”

“U-Um…” She stared at me, bewildered, her large eyes seeming to grow even bigger. “You’re not angry with me?”

“Not really. After all, you played the villain in an effort to make us happy, didn’t you?”

“I did, but—”

“Then all’s well that ends well, right? So let’s keep spending time together.”

“You’re sure that’s okay?”

“Of course. I’d be devastated to lose my childhood friend!”

Tsukushi, my precious friend, had always been there for me. I understood that, more than I ever had, yet I couldn’t tell what she thought of my declaration. My heart would break if she disappeared.

She burst out laughing. “You really are an oddball,” she giggled.

Shinozaki nodded, chuckling. “She really is.”

“Wait, what? I didn’t say anything weird!”

Once Tsukushi’s laughter had died down, she and Shinozaki exchanged glances. Their eyes sparkled joyously—as though a centuries-long burden had lifted from their shoulders.

“Very well then,” she said. “I can’t leave you helpless little things here and venture to the Far Shore alone.” She gently pushed me in front of Shinozaki.

He and I gazed at each other.

“Kaede,” he said.

“Yes?”

His hair fluttered in the autumn breeze. I could see myself reflected in his gorgeous, golden eyes. Surely, I marveled, I will remember this moment for the rest of my life.

“I’ll do my best not to,” he said, “but forgive me if I ever mistake you for Sakura.”

“I’ve already taken that into consideration,” I replied. “That sort of thing is par for the course when you date a guy who can’t get over his ex.”

“Have you, uh, ever dated a guy like that?”

“Of course not. I’ve never dated anyone in the twenty years I’ve been alive.”

“So…” he said, “you’re sure you don’t want to do a trial run with a normal human first?”

“Sorry, but I don’t intend to date anyone as a test.”

“If you choose to stay with me…don’t blame me if you die from some ayakashi-related complication.”

“Even if I live a full lifespan, I only have eighty years left at best,” I said. “I’m trusting you to protect me with all your strength for that time.”

“Never leave me,” he whispered.

“I could ask the same of you. No matter how old I get… No matter what I end up looking like, never leave me.”

“I…” He strained to speak. “I don’t want to face this world without you ever again.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll consider renouncing my humanity.”

“That can wait.” Shinozaki wrapped his arms around me. “There’s no need to rush into anything, Kaede.”

I looped my own around his neck, careful not to smear foundation on his snow-white kimono.

“Don’t ever abandon me again,” he said.

“I won’t. Can you promise me the same thing?”

“Of course. I’ll never let go of you.”

Tsukushi caught my eye from behind Shinozaki. “See you later,” she mouthed, waving goodbye before vanishing.

Another autumn gust rustled the mountain grove, and Shinozaki’s ears and tail bobbed in its wake. When I pulled a leaf from his hair, he furrowed his brow momentarily then laughed.

“Shinozaki.”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again. Not to absorb my spiritual energy. A normal kiss.”

“…Later.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

We broke into smiles at nearly the same time. Alone in the mountain grove, we nuzzled our foreheads together, laughing softly.

If only we could stay in this moment forever.

Shinozaki’s four-hundred-year love story thus came to a happy end.

🍁🍁🍁

ONE thousand years previous, a vixen was born in Chikushino. She came into the world and spent her entire life as an animal. Afterward, she achieved apotheosis as a shapeshifting fox alongside her younger brother. The siblings practiced sadhana over many, many years, thereby increasing their number of tails. By the end of the Muromachi period, they each had five.

During the second year of the Genki era, Dōsetsu Bekki took up residence in Tachibanayama Castle as the military governor of Chikuzen Province. He adopted Sakura, a young priestess, and through her formed a contract with the vulpine pair. He similarly bestowed power upon them via the goddess Dakiniten.

The kitsune worked diligently, protecting the Tachibana clan as war deities. In return, the Tachibana provided them with spiritual energy and a place of belonging. As a symbol of their contract, the foxes received the names of Tsukushi and Shino. So long as those names endured, they would remain loyal to Sakura, who served the Tachibana and the land of Tachibana itself.

Sakura, the sole survivor of a band of wandering miko, was an odd girl. Although an orphan, she wasn’t very world-wise, and in truth, she didn’t serve Dōsetsu Bekki. Rather, she served his daughter, Lady Ginchiyo, who didn’t fit the typical mold of a young noblewoman either.

The two girls, both strange in their own right, got along swimmingly. While master and servant, they were as close as sisters. Thus the miko, lady castellan, and two vulpine siblings formed a tight-knit group of four.

Alas, their peculiar relationship couldn’t last forever. Sakura, the miko, lost her mind and drowned at the bottom of a well. Ginchiyo, the lady castellan, died of fever in a small village at the young age of thirty-three. Both were victims of the era in which they’d been born.

The loss of his beloved miko was too painful for Shino, the male fox, to bear. He eventually became a disastrous force that wreaked havoc upon Chikushino.

As everything fell to ruin, the female kitsune, Tsukushi, found herself adrift. Until she disguised herself as a young girl and, one by one, massacred the sorcerers who’d cursed Sakura. Afterward, she brought her younger brother, calamity incarnate, to heel.

“Kill me,” Shino pleaded, his eyes hollow.

Her pitiful brother had been reduced to a one-tailed fox after forfeiting the power gained through sadhana.

“Kill me,” he repeated. “I don’t want to live in a world without Sakura.”

“I love you,” said Tsukushi. “How could I ever kill my one and only little brother?” She spoke with absolute sincerity. She’d loved Sakura just as much as Shino. Yet Tsukushi had begun to hate Sakura for breaking his heart, though she knew her resentment was illogical.

Once Shino recovered from their battle, imprisoned within her magic, Tsukushi visited him with a proposal. “Shino,” she said, “let’s live on the Far Shore together. All the ayakashi that have gone before us are already there.”

As the human realm flourished, the places in which ayakashi could live on the Near Shore had dwindled. Local deities survived via syncretic transformation, adopting names from the Buddhist and Shinto pantheons. Shapeshifting ayakashi posed as humans. One by one, however, ayakashi without such ability left for the Far Shore.

Those who ventured there could never return. Tsukushi initially despised the idea of retreating to the Far Shore, an option of last resort solely because she’d been driven out of the human realm. But she began to consider the idea in a more positive light. Perhaps she and her brother could live happily ever after.

Unfortunately, Shino rejected her suggestion.

“I want to see Sakura again,” he said. “If only one more time.” Little by little, his eyes had regained the light of sanity, and he wished to reunite with the reincarnated priestess.

Who put this idea in his head?

His wish developed into obsession. Yet even as time healed his wounds and he reclaimed his spiritual energy, he remained a one-tailed fox.

“It won’t return in full until you let go of your attachment.” Desperation tinged her voice. “Do you want to remain a pathetic, one-tailed fox forever?”

“I don’t mind,” Shino replied, the spark fully returned to his eyes. “I’ve chosen to live with the agony of this sigil on my chest.”

Tsukushi loved Shino more than anything. More than herself.

“If that’s what you’ve decided,” she said, “then I understand.”

She couldn’t abandon him. So she lingered on the Near Shore, neither too close nor too far from him.

Shino moved into a hokora in Fukuoka. With Princess Hainuzuka’s backing, he started a business that helped ayakashi find work and community.

“Insufferable mutt.” Tsukushi bit her nails. “How could she give my poor Shino such fleeting hope?”

He spent his days toiling for the sake of other ayakashi, and from Tsukushi’s perspective, his actions seemed like atonement. He wanted to save people like Sakura and Ginchiyo, his departed loved ones who’d died as outcasts in the human realm.

“Reincarnated individuals possess the same soul, yes, but they don’t inherit memories from their past lives,” Tsukushi said to herself. “Shino will be devastated when he encounters Sakura again and she’s forgotten everything. I have to kill her reincarnation before then.”

Love—too much love—lit the fire of resolve within her.

🍁🍁🍁

FOUR hundred years passed. Over the centuries, she became a nine-tailed kitsune. One day, she heard the first cries of Sakura’s newborn reincarnation.

At long last, the time had come.

Tsukushi would murder Sakura before she and Shino could meet. The vixen bounded toward the infant, her chest bursting with joy to finally fulfill her vow. At the hospital, she shapeshifted into a nurse.

She regarded the baby. Swaddled in white cloth and lying next to her mother in the maternity ward, the child slept soundly, not a trace of understanding on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Tsukushi murmured, “but I can’t allow Shino to suffer any more than he already has.” She extended a lethal finger toward the infant—and the infant grabbed it. Overpowering spiritual energy, so reminiscent of Sakura’s, coursed from the baby’s hand, rendering Tsukushi incapable of doing anything.

She broke into tears as the energy flooded her soul. “Sakura…” she sobbed. “You’ve finally reincarnated.”

In the end, she couldn’t kill Kaede Kikui, Sakura’s reincarnation. The reunion, four hundred years in the making, reminded Tsukushi of her original feelings. She loved Shino, and she also loved Sakura. In her heart, hadn’t she always wanted to protect Sakura?

Rather than kill Kaede, Tsukushi kept a close eye on her. She watched over the human girl from the shadows and in broad daylight, maintaining a constant magical barrier around her. Tsukushi ensured that Kaede lived a healthy, normal life. Likewise, she distanced Kaede from ayakashi and anything abnormal.

Sometimes, she felt a twinge of guilt. Had normalcy become a prison for the girl? Regardless, she continued to protect Kaede.

“Tsukushi!” Kaede cried.

The two of them became close friends. Kaede always wore an innocent smile, and her heart was full of love for Tsukushi.

The years passed, marked by flurries of cherry blossoms.

Kaede’s mother dressing her in her preschool uniform.

Kaede shouldering a backpack for her first day of elementary school.

Kaede wearing a sailor uniform in middle school.

Kaede donning a kimono for Coming-of-Age Day.

Slightly odd due to her teeming spiritual energy, Kaede nevertheless grew into a healthy young woman. All the while, Tsukushi was determined to defend Kaede’s profoundly normal happiness as well as keep her existence a secret from Shino.

But the two women saw each other less and less when Kaede became a working adult, and Tsukushi’s clandestine barrier became increasingly difficult to maintain. By the time a fortune teller, a foolish nekomata, caught Kaede in his snare, the barrier had grown paper-thin. When she finally encountered Shino, it shattered entirely.

“So, they’ve finally met…” muttered Tsukushi. She couldn’t turn back time, no matter how much she regretted the turn of events.

So she observed them from afar. Shino fell in love with Kaede again. And Kaede smiled at Shino in a manner completely unfamiliar to Tsukushi.

At this rate, misfortune is going to befall them again.

Shino must have feared the same, for he seemed to struggle with how best to interact with Kaede. Noticing his indecision, Tsukushi decided: she would play the villain and tear the two of them apart. Afterward, she would return Kaede to a normal human existence and accompany Shino to the Far Shore.

I’m doing this to prevent the tragedy awaiting them. In her past life, Kaede’s immense spiritual energy brought her nothing but misery.

But Kaede punctured every barrier to reunite with Shino. She stood her ground and refused to let him escape. In the end, she even softened his hardened heart.

And that’s not all. Kaede even extended her hand to me, a horrible, so-called friend who’s deceived her all along.

“Ginchiyo,” whispered Tsukushi, alone in the mountain grove. “Do you think I made the right decision?”

The ghost of a familiar hand—soft and pale—grazed her shoulder.

Epilogue

Epilogue

“TODAY’S job takes us to Kokura. Let’s see… ‘My deadbeat husband has been pickpocketing people at horse, cycling, and boat races,’” I read. “‘Please find him a job.’ Yikes. His wife contacted us?”

“Take a look at what sort of ayakashi the husband is, Kaede,” said Shinozaki.

“A…kudan?! The ones that can divine the future?!”

“Indeed. He used to make his living as a fortune teller.”

“A fortune teller turning to pickpocketing and gambling? Can you sink any lower than that?”

“He should’ve stuck to the straight and narrow.”

“Should we even be finding this guy a job?” I wondered.

“We’ll be going to Moji tomorrow,” Shinozaki said, ignoring my question. “Once you’ve glanced over the files, look up a restaurant that serves mild yaki curry.”

“Are you trying to make me hungry?”

The beginning of winter was near, and I’d just turned twenty-one a few days before. Shinozaki was currently driving us to the Kokura area of Kitakyushu City.

Every so often, he hummed a line of the Jellysh song drifting from the speakers. I glanced at him; to see him so absorbed in the music warmed my heart. But I didn’t say anything, because I knew he would stop if I pointed it out. His tail, on the other hand, swaying with the beat, was flicking me repeatedly. Maybe I could point that out.

“What’s with the smirk?” he asked.

“Smirk? Whatever do you mean?”

Despite the cold weather, Shinozaki had started to loosen his collar lately, and I could see the top of his chest. Previously, he’d worn a tight necktie even during the summer, so I could hardly believe the change. Perhaps the absence of the sigil made him more comfortable showing skin.

“Hey, perv, what are you staring at?” he demanded. “I’m trying to drive here.”

“Ouch, ouch, don’t slap me with your tail!” I cried. “Foxes molt in autumn, right? Your fur’s all prickly right now!”

“Keep complaining, and I’ll hit you with a sexual harassment lawsuit. Hey, Siri! Call Dr. Fukuda.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on! I’m sorry! Oh, right, I have some chocolate. Here you go!” I found the candy in my tote bag and held a piece to his lips.

He wordlessly opened his mouth to accept the offering. Then nipped my finger in payback. Ouch.

Meanwhile, we’d reached the Kokuraminami interchange. Once we passed the automatic toll gate and merged onto the highway, I asked, “Shinozaki, when you absorbed my spiritual energy, you always said you were able to stop yourself from going too far through sheer willpower. But you actually couldn’t drain every last drop of my spiritual energy, could you? Because I have Sakura’s soul.”

“More or less,” he replied.

“I just thought you had incredible self-control.”

“Well, if I’m being honest, self-control alone can’t suppress animal instinct.” He stuck his tongue out at me.

He no longer needed to siphon my excess energy. Tsukushi had placed a seal on it, and we could adjust its flow depending on the time and situation. Of course, I still used my transit card as an amulet.

“Still,” I said, “it’s kind of a shame.”

“What is?”

“You hardly ever kiss me without some sort of pretext.”

He froze.

As traffic slowed to a crawl, I grinned, then shrugged dramatically. “When we first met, I kept thinking, ‘Wow, this fox is bold.’ Who would’ve guessed you’re actually just a shy little human?”

Shinozaki didn’t respond.

“You didn’t even kiss me when we reunited in the forest,” I reminded him. “Did you never kiss Sakura either, perhaps?”

“If you don’t shut that annoying trap of yours, I’ll drain every last drop of your spiritual energy.”

“Perish the thought! Are you trying to kill me?”

I looked at him as we stopped at a red light. He glared back at me, and the animalistic gleam in his eyes made me falter.

“…Did you forget?” he asked. “We’re staying the night here.”

My breath caught in my throat. Shinozaki smiled, narrowing his eyes. Like a fox stalking its prey.

Yikes. This is the scariest he’s ever looked.

“I’m going to make you remember what you just said.” He winked. “Each and every word.”

“Oh, that’s, um…”

The Jellysh song came to an end at the worst possible time. A moment later, my work phone rang.

“Answer it,” Shinozaki said in a low voice, still staring at me.

“Y-You got it.”

I slapped my cheeks, reclaiming my composure, and shifted to work mode. “Thank you for your call,” I said. “This is Kikui from Ayakashi Career and Moving Services. Oh, Dr. Fukuda. Yes… Wait, what?! A lawsuit?! Does this kudan live in southern Kokura, by chance?!”

It’s always one thing after another, isn’t it?

Regardless, another wonderfully normal day—both peaceful and hectic—awaited me. At least until that evening.

After Story: Life Together Three Years Later

After Story: Life Together Three Years Later

I woke amid gentle sunlight. According to the stylish clock on the wall, it was 6 a.m. When I reached for my phone on the side table, cool air kissed my bare arm. Then two strong arms pulled me back.

“Mm,” I groaned softly. “Shinozaki.”

Rather than answer, he tightened his embrace. He refused to let go, apparently unwilling to let a single millimeter come between us. Grabbing my smartphone would be difficult in our current state.

At first I thought he was also awake, considering how he’d trapped me, but that didn’t seem to be the case. So I gave up on my phone for the time being and waited quietly in his arms. I didn’t have work that day, and the hour was still early. No one would criticize me for staying in bed.

With a soft sigh, I relaxed, watching the details of Shinozaki’s room emerge in the faint morning light. His bedroom was much larger than mine in my parents’ house. And it was decorated with elegant, uniformly white furniture.

Around three years had passed since I first met Shinozaki. No, since I reunited with him as Kaede.

An abrupt turn of events had led to us living together.

🍁🍁🍁

“YOUR father is getting close to his mandatory retirement age,” Mom announced in the middle of dinner one evening. “I want to do a major renovation of the house soon. Since you’re a working adult now, I want to make the place easier for your father and me to live in during our old age.”

“B-But I’m not getting married or anything,” I said.

“Come now. Do you need to be married to move out?”

“W-Well…”

Our current arrangement couldn’t last forever. My parents were getting older, and I had just turned twenty-four. The circumstances had changed in a variety of ways.

“Besides…” Mom’s eyes twinkled. “Aren’t you getting pretty serious with Shinozaki?”

“It’s about time he makes an honest woman out of you,” she was implying.

So I moved in with him at warp speed, and we planned to marry the following year.

I’d expected my father to be wholly against us living together. To my surprise, though, he didn’t object. When I asked him why the day before my move, he stared into the distance, his expression a touch sentimental. “I never sent you to college,” he said. “Moving out on your own and planning for the future will be a good experience for you. But if you ever want to come back, you’re always welcome.”

I’d opted to stay in the area and not pursue further education, and my father must have felt guilty about my decision. I suspected a news report about the local matriculation rate for women had gotten into his head.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “But I chose my current life because it’s what I wanted.”

“Kaede…”

“So…this time, I’m choosing to move out. I’ll do my best to get by without relying on you and Mom.”

Dad ruffled my hair and saw me off with a smile.

Thank goodness I was raised by such loving parents.

I’d always been terrified of deviating from the ordinary. In part, that had been due to Tsukushi steering me toward a normal life. But that wasn’t my only motivation. My soul hadn’t recovered from the trauma of my past life, and I unconsciously longed for a more mundane existence.

A normal life, an abnormal life—both were valid. Yet perhaps there was a middle path.

I was raised by loving parents. My life was so happy that I’d wished for nothing. Consequently, I’d wanted to remain normal. If my wonderful life was considered ordinary, why would I want anything else?

Nevertheless, my feelings were changing little by little.

🍁🍁🍁

“SHINOZAKI,” I said. “Shouldn’t we get up soon?”

“Hell no.” He turned me in his arms so we faced each other.

I laughed softly as he hugged me even tighter. “You’re going to squeeze the air out of my lungs.”

He mumbled sleepily.

“Hey,” I said. “Didn’t you promise to take me to the café on the first floor for breakfast?”

“We have time. Keep being my body pillow for a little while longer.”

He could be a huge slugabed in the morning. He let out a contented sigh, his long eyelashes fluttering closed as he dozed off again. His long, silky hair spilled over the sheets, and his fluffy ears twitched every so often. He was adorable when he acted like a fox. Lying next to him, I could see just how flawless his skin was. I stroked his cheek, curious, but strangely couldn’t feel any trace of stubble.

I peeked at the top of his chest visible under the collar of his pajamas—the spot where the sigil used to be. Back when he’d first shown me the sigil, I hadn’t been able to look at it directly, his sexiness too much for me to bear. But that morning, I tugged on his shirt to get a better glimpse at his chiseled chest.

Shinozaki laughed, his eyes still closed. “Hey, perv, what are you looking at?”

“I’m not being a perv,” I replied. “This is my right as a body pillow.”

“Oh yeah? Can’t argue with that.” He squeezed me even harder.

Although I could see only his neck, I felt him ruffle my hair and kiss my forehead. A pleasant warmth washed over me, and I closed my eyes, basking in his scent and the heat of his skin.

I’d never known that sort of comfort before meeting him. Such happiness originated from beyond the world I’d previously known. If I’d discovered it earlier, I would have broken free of my idyllic shelter much sooner.

“Shinozaki.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s so wonderful to sleep in with the person you love. Maybe I would’ve been better off not knowing.”

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“I just can’t bring myself to let go of you,” I said. “I want you to keep holding me forever. Like it’s perfectly normal.”

Without warning, he let go of me. Then he laced his fingers through mine and pinned me to the bed. He gazed down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

His smile caused my heart to race and blood to pound in my ears, a feeling I hadn’t experienced until recently.

“So,” he said, “you understand how I feel now?”

“I think so.” I squeezed our interlaced fingers. Looking up into his eyes, I smiled. “I left you alone for so long, didn’t I?”

“That’s right. Four hundred years. No, four hundred and three.”

“Do you plan to keep increasing the number?”

“I could hardly breathe the entire time I waited.” A serious shadow fell over his face, and he seemed to consider his next words carefully. “I love you. This time, we’ll be together forever, no matter what.”

“Of course.”

We would be wed the following year. But what happened when a human married an ayakashi?

How will I explain everything to my family? What will happen to my life? My legal records? Will I even be able to stay a normal human?

Only three years had passed since Shinozaki and I had consummated our relationship. As a twenty-four-year-old, I’d stopped growing years before. Had my body changed in the past three years, most people would have attributed it to a change in lifestyle. But what about in ten or twenty years?

In all likelihood, I wouldn’t age like the people around me. I would live forever by Shinozaki’s side. What’s more, I would remain twenty-one in appearance, the age at which I’d become his mate. The thought frightened me. What if I came to regret my decision? What if I wanted to return to being normal?

Even so…

I gripped his hands and spoke from the heart. “I’ll never leave you again,” I vowed.

Before I could add, “I love you too,” he pressed his lips to mine.

Shinozaki and I would never part. Even if everyone we knew passed away. Even if Fukuoka disappeared from the face of Earth. No matter what might or might not happen, we would be together for centuries to come. For I’d chosen to stay with him forever.

Afterword

Afterword

I’M the author, Makino Maebaru.

I did it! At long last, I’ve turned the original Kaede and Shinozaki into a traditionally published novel! Ahaha! Yay! I’m so happy! I did it!

This work was originally slated for publication in Japan after winning AlphaPolis’s Fifth Character Literary Award. Unfortunately, those plans never came to fruition. I actually wrote the manuscript back in 2021 before my debut as a published author.

Here in Japan, I published a major rewrite of this work called Mi ni Oboenai Dekiai Desu ga, Soko made Ai Saretara Shikata ga Nai: Boukyaku no Otome wa Kamisama ni Eien ni Ai Sareru You Desu. The two stories don’t share any similarities aside from being tales of ayakashi set in Fukuoka. Regardless, I gave up on ever publishing this work. I could have sought publication in Japan again, but in the few years since writing the original manuscript, ayakashi workplace novels have started to fade in popularity. So instead of fighting for domestic publication, I worked with Cross Infinite World to bring this novel to readers overseas. (Of course, I’d be thrilled if it got published in Japan too!)

Since this is a three-year-old work, I went through grueling revisions, constantly confronting embarrassment and my past immaturity as a writer. The process was difficult yet rewarding, as it allowed me to see how much I’ve grown as an author in the past few years. I would be so happy if you enjoyed this work even a little.

The setting for this novel is my hometown of Fukuoka. I painted a vivid depiction of the city as it was in 2021. Are you familiar with Fukuoka, by chance? It’s a fascinating place with history dating back to before Japan’s unification. I would be thrilled if you learned about Fukuoka and came to love it through this story.

Pardon my digression, but my surname originates from the city of Maebaru that once existed in Fukuoka Prefecture. Hopefully, my name is yet another record of the city’s prior existence for people overseas. I’m satisfied with that. Please, dear readers, remember Maebaru. Although it’s called Itoshima now, it’s a wonderful tourist destination.

Incidentally, I learned that Saga Prefecture is more well-known than Fukuoka while vacationing in Poland some years ago. Apparently, the Saga International Balloon Fiesta is famous overseas.

Finally, allow me to give a brief word of thanks. I’m deeply grateful to Charis Messier of Cross Infinite World, the graphic designer, the translator, the artist who provided wonderful character designs and illustrations, and everyone involved in the publication and sale of this novel.

And to my wonderful family and grandmother: I love you all from the bottom of my heart.

If possible, I would also love for you to read Mi ni Oboenai Dekiai, my rewrite of this novel. That way, you can see how much I’ve grown as an author over these past few years of my career.

Please take a look at another one of my series if you have the chance. Several are already available in English!

Sincerely,

Makino Maebaru

(blowing you a kiss in front of Chikuzen Maebaru Station, feeling on top of the world on a certain day in 2024)