Chương 38: Book 1, Chapter 38: The Nature of Things

Not a word was uttered between them during the trip back to the fort; the tension hanging over the pair like an executioner's axe, with neither willing to say the first word. John stood on the far side of the path from Yuki, scanning for threats compulsively, but never letting his eyes linger in her direction for too terribly long. It might invite a conversation he was not ready for. Truth be told, he'd probably never be ready for it, but with each minute the fort drew closer, like an inescapable deadline.

Thankfully, it seemed like his travelling partner thought much the same. The kitsune's gaze never stayed on him for long. Every time, her tails agitatedly twitched, and a deep frown creased her face before she looked away. Of course, she still stood on alert, scanning the woods for any threats alongside him, despite her superior senses, although it mercifully seemed that her sister had no plans to ambush the pair of them.

John cradled his burnt hand to his chest, a thick layer of healing solution impregnated bandages dulling the pain to manageable levels. It was probably the only thing keeping him properly upright at this point, even if the cold settling in the limb was disconcerting, like he had lost a part of himself in the numbness.

As he trudged, the gauntlet awkwardly shoved into his already overstuffed bag rattled, reminding him of how defenceless he was right now, with his only source of safety being a fox he wasn't sure how much he could trust anymore. Deep feelings of helplessness surged to take over his mind, but they were beaten down with practiced ease. At least he managed to locate the disc before they left, so he could flee quickly, should it be needed.

After Kiku and the Nameless withdrew to let the two of them gather their items and leave, it did not escape him that there was not one human corpse left behind, nor that the chest of valuables was sent away sometime during the scuffle. How similar were Kiku and Yuki, anyhow? His mind kept returning to that simple thought, despite his best efforts. If they truly came from the same person split into pieces, which was an absolutely insane thought by itself, wouldn't that mean that they had much the same personality?

How much of the Yuki he knew was her, and how much was an act to get her claws into him? It didn't take a genius to realize that Kiku saw value in him and that she was likely observing him for some time after Yuki showed up, likely prompted by the Nameless seeing the latter. Would she have tried to get in his good graces the same way if she got here before Yuki? Would Yuki have violated his mind like that to tear her away from her sister?

The thought chilled him to the bone, and a deep gnawing fear wrapped around his heart like thorny vines. Should he start making preparations for the worst? … No. Perhaps it was foolish, but John felt like Yuki had at least earned the chance to explain herself. Despite everything, she had done him a great service in teaching him how to speak the language, and if she really wanted to, she could have acted as a far poorer teacher to keep him even more isolated and dependent on her than he already was.

Right now, he could walk into town, even if he was likely to either cause a panic or be panicked himself. At least the two of them had escaped the situation with minimal physical injuries, hand notwithstanding. John had a few more mental scars to add to the tally that were probably going to ruin him when he tried to sleep tonight, but there were important things to take care of first. Soon enough, the pair rounded the final bend, and he relaxed a tiny bit at the sight of the fort.

It was the single place in this damned world that was even semi-secure, even if he had to figure out some sort of anti-kitsune measures. He doubted that Kiku had been inside yet for reasons beyond him, given he had yet to be scooped out of his bed one night, but there was no excuse for laxness. Perhaps she assumed he was more prepared than he was, and that traps were waiting around every corner.

She probably knew how he responded to Nameless attacks before they actually showed up, but maybe she didn't know how and was thus unwilling to risk it. Rin stood atop the walls, her stance tense as she stiffly patrolled and scanned the first for any threats. Her hand rested on the blade's hilt at her side, ready to draw it at a moment's notice, but once she saw them, her hand dropped and she beamed the pair a wide smile.

"Sensei John! Mistress Yuki!" she called, hopping off the wall and rushing to meet them.

"Is the Greater Nameless dead?" she asked, smiling widely and bouncing on her heels. With how much earnest enthusiasm there was in her voice, it sounded less like she was asking and more like she was waiting for confirmation. The bouncy dragon-blooded halted on the spot as she saw John's cradled arm, her good mood evaporating as all the tension returned in force.

The Unbound looked ready to fight again, even if he wasn't sure why she cared so much, as he had done little other than give her some basic life advice and scold her. In any case, John could still pick up on some unsteadiness in her stance with how she lightly swayed back and forth. Even if she had mostly recovered from whatever happened in her duel with that man, she certainly wasn't unscathed and up to strength again. No, he'd wager that if there was a serious fight right now, she'd fold in an instant.

John clicked his tongue, thinking carefully before responding.

"Not quite. It… got away due to intervention from the yokai controlling it. Yuki and I have to think up a strategy. Would you mind keeping an eye on the walls while we do so?" The lie tasted bitter in his mouth, and his tone was a bit flat, but he owed Yuki a chance to explain, at the very least. Rin's expression darkened further as he mentioned a puppetmaster behind the scenes, her prior electric energy fading as she resolutely nodded.

"Of course. Lord John, Mistress Yuki. I shall keep the fortress safe!" She spun around, hurrying back to the wall before leaping over it in a bound. Yuki glanced at him, a faint note of gratitude in her expression as she dipped her head in a subtle bow. He shrugged and looked away. Moments later, Rin threw the gate open for them, which thankfully saved him from having to use the disc to crest the wall.

He still wasn't sure why Kiku didn't try to claim it; one of the Lesser Nameless could have scurried off with it during the scuffle. It would have surely benefited their hoard greatly. He supposed it didn't matter. The march into the compound felt more like a funeral procession than returning to safety. Aiki and Haru were working on cleaning a wall with a bucket and some brushes, which was nice of them.

Unfortunately, the second they saw his and Yuki's states, they pointedly buried themselves in work, like they were trying to make it clear they weren't targets for a kitsune and Unbound looking for ways to let off steam.

"Let's get this over with," John sighed. He hesitated momentarily, but eventually led Yuki into the main building to have more privacy for their meeting. It wasn't like talking outside would make him more capable of defending himself should something happen, and even if Rin got involved, it would probably be futile. There was no reason to put her in harm's way. Once inside, the two settled opposite one another at the table they had once used for lessons, the room as quiet as a tomb.

Neither seemed particularly willing to start the inevitably painful conversation, but John's curiosity eventually won out.

"So, how many sisters do you have?" His voice was stern, and his tone hurried and clipped. Of course, he didn't trust that the monstrous kitsune told him the whole truth. She had plenty of reasons to lie, but Yuki's reaction to her saying she told him about where they came from told him much. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Yuki placed her hands on her lap and interlaced her fingers, appearing to take a moment to steady herself.

He was sure it was at least partially put on for his benefit.

"Six living sisters," Yuki admitted with a sigh.

"We used to number nine, back when we first escaped, but two have died."

"When were you going to tell me?" he asked, although he almost hissed it out, leaning in with fire in his eyes.

"What happened to nobody pursuing you? Hell, why did you even make me think you had just escaped, anyhow? If you're willing to lie to me about something so pointless, why would I trust you about anything else?" Yuki actually flinched, much to his surprise, although part of him assumed it was more for manipulating him than anything.

"On some level, you are right not to trust me," she sadly stated, dipping her head to look at the table.

"I had hoped not to think too much about my sisters while I recovered and spent time learning from you here. I was injured trying to talk to an ally of mine, who wasn't one anymore, and this place… I remembered it being so isolated and irrelevant, so it should never have been visited by my progenitor more than the first time, shortly after it was established.

I thought that even if there was nobody to call an ally here, there'd be people who knew little of the place's history who I could beseech for aid as 'just' a divine messenger of the gods, as any of my enemies would have levelled it." She paused, seeming to gather herself by taking a deep breath.

"Once upon a time, there was a kitsune, legendary in nature and deed," she began, sounding like she was more narrating an ancient legend than an event from her own life.

"She fought against the Heavens and righted wrongs, but even she could not stand against all alone, and thus worked from the shadows with her allies, drawing ever closer to her goal. But, she was betrayed, and forced into open conflict, which she ultimately lost… but not until so many lives were lost on both sides that the death poisoned the site of the rebellion so badly that nothing can grow there, not plant nor flesh."

She paused only for a moment, looking to him as if she was gauging his reaction, seeing if he wanted to cut in, before continuing.

"There exists a place called the Throne Upon Fathomless Peaks, left vacant by the gods who abandoned this world. If one can overcome trials across the land and become worthy to claim it for themselves, they are granted immense power over the world and the nature of things, which the kitsune hoped to use to leverage. Mortals are little more than resources or playthings for the yokai nobility. Yokai are bound more insidiously by their very natures, as they are discarded tools of the gods left to fester."

Once more, she stopped, letting the silence linger longer, almost begging him to ask something. What could the restrictions upon something like her even be? She seemed to just do what she wanted… But things were starting to click. One of the books he read mentioned that if you bowed deeply enough to a hostile kappa, the water would spill out of its head, weakening it for you to escape. Why would they do that?

Another mentioned that oni, demons by another name from what he gathered, were always evil, even if they were sometimes helpful. Why couldn't one ever go straight? Something in John cracked, and he sniffed, muscles pulling tight. Was Yuki implying that deception was just in her nature? Was she just saying she was not culpable because of what she is? What about all the warmth, all the kindness? Was her care for Aiki and Haru just to endear him to her?

"There is a type of dog-like yokai in these woods called Okuri-inu. By their very nature, if they see someone trip and appear defenceless, they will attack and try to kill them, sans a display of unearthly willpower. Yokai come into being in ageless castes, and the gods were cruel enough to leave many of them with just enough free will to hate their role. Even if they continue to think differently due to their natures, I want yokai and mortal alike to be truly free." And there it is.

There's that pitch again, like when John first met her… although now he had more context. Finally. Somehow, the fact that there were gods that abandoned the world hardly registered in his mind as something urgent, like a wisp of smoke on the horizon. Perhaps it was just him being so shell-shocked by the day as it was. After all, he could still almost feel—"And that excuses everything, how?"

The words sprang forth before he thought them through, but he bit down on his tongue to stifle what threatened to spill forth next. No. He had to be calm about this. The maelstrom of baffling emotions swirling within him was not in control. He was. John closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The kitsune let him, not saying anything.

"Yuki? How much of this was real? We were friends, right?" he asked, voice shaking like a leaf in a rainstorm. Hurt flashed across Yuki's eyes, and her frown deepened.

"John, this changes nothing between us unless you want it to. You'll still be my friend." Her voice was quiet. Not weak, but… worried, soft, like how John remembered talking to an injured baby robin when he was young. The bird didn't make it. It wouldn't drink.

"How am I supposed to trust that?" he questioned, stinging tears forming unbidden at the corners of his eyes.

"You're a millennium-old kitsune… or part of one, at least. Don't think I haven't noticed you manipulating me!" His voice rose in volume with each word as he started shouting against his own will and better judgement, despite how much he knew deep in his soul that he needed to stay calm and logical.

"This could just be an act, too! You could be trying to control me, j-just like she did! It was… like I couldn't think of anything other than what she wanted me to think! How do I know you won't just do that to make me forgive you? How do I know you haven't been doing a gentle version of that every time you've used your magic and I've felt warm?" He hopped back from the table, sending his chair rashing to the ground as he rose to his full height.

"John, please," Yuki began, voice pleading, golden eyes dim. Behind her, her tails hung deathly still. Her hands didn't leave her lap, sitting crossed.

"Even if I could do that, I would never."

"That's a weak reassurance. What can you say to convince me? What can you tell me that I will know isn't just a lie to get me right where you want me? Where's the Yuki who can turn around a conversation on a dime?" he needled, but his tone came out almost… pleading, to his disgust. John bit his lip. No. This was a violation. He was angry with her, wasn't he? The towering kitsune leaned back a bit, looking up and closing her eyes as she seemed to slip into thought.

Had he finally stumped her enough that Yuki had to think up a lie on the spot? Could she really just sit there and say nothing? The agitation burning in his chest spread, and he awkwardly shuffled in place. He had it just about—"I'm afraid, John." The words brought his train of thought to a screaming stop.

"When the original kitsune was torn apart, each of us 'sisters' only got a ninth of her memories," Yuki whispered, although it almost felt like she was somewhere else.

"It influenced us, and I think it's why we are all so different. Then, one of my sisters died. Her memories, what she was, ended up being split between the rest of us." She stopped only to steady herself, eyes finally opening and locking onto his.

"I didn't want to think much about my sisters, because I'm afraid I'll stop being me and start being more like some of them. You shouldn't entirely trust me, because one day, one of my siblings could die, and I could wake up different due to part of what made them that way getting transferred to me. Some of them want to be whole again and are trying to speed it along by trying to kill the others, but none of us has the full picture of what the original kitsune was like."

A mixture of dread and understanding flooded John, his heart calling for him to try to comfort her, even if he didn't know where to start. Who would? There wasn't a therapist in the world qualified. Should he try, anyhow? His instincts screamed that she couldn't be Kiku, no matter what. That… whatever made the purple furred nightmare the way she was wouldn't change her that much. Why did he have so much faith in her all of a sudden?

She continued without prompting, like now that the dam was breached, Yuki wanted—no, needed—to get this all out.

"What if she's someone I would hate, John?" The colder, more logical part of his brain kept him rooted, his uninjured hand digging into his leg like claws.

"Why are you telling me all this, Yuki?" A headache started to bloom in his skull, like his brain was trying its best to escape from its prison. This was too much. Once again, tears began to form at the edges of his eyes for no reason that made sense. His breathing hitched, making his next breath more like the choking gasp of a drowning man. It was all too much. Why couldn't life just be simple? Why did someone have to root around in his brain? Why couldn't Yuki just be some lost traveller he helped?

Underneath that warmth and pain, there was still that little, quiet edge of calculation in those golden orbs.

"Because, if I just tried to logically reassure you, you wouldn't believe me," Yuki stated. He didn't argue.

"It needed to be something more visceral. Something ugly that I wouldn't share if this weren't so dire." Yuki puffed, looking down at the table.

"We haven't known each other long, that much is true, but I can tell you have a good heart."

"You don't know me," he replied, although it had no heat behind it.

"I know you well enough," she replied, her deep-set frown lightening into something more bittersweet.

"I think," he choked out, "I need some time." Without waiting for a reply, he spun and fled the room, hurrying away to his room, the one bastion of sanity he had left.