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It’s said that rain on a clear day means a fox is holding a wedding. Tenko learned this wasn’t true when he grew his fifth tail. A bright summer day was plagued with a sudden downpour when Tenko woke to his sister curled up beside him, lifeless. He experienced true anguish on that day, and learned that a fox rain was brought about by a kitsune’s broken heart.
Rumor erupted among the fox spirits that Tenko’s own cursed destructive power killed Hana. Word reached the kami, his entry into heaven denied, and he was cast out to the human world.
Of all these injustices, time was the cruelest. Days continued as if Tenko’s world hadn’t crumbled. Seasons shifted, years rolled by, sparing no sympathy for the fox. Eventually Tenko began directing his spite toward humans. He embraced the role of a dark kitsune: a spirit said to only bring chaos. If nothing else, it gave him purpose in exile.
Until one wintry day, when an opportunity befell him. Winds slipped between the pines, carrying with them the echoes of a soothing voice.
“Tenko…” the wind called in a faint voice. Tenko’s ears twitched at the sound. It was as if the voice was all around him, yet inside his own ear. A shiver trickled up his spine at the feeling.
“Tenko… Come to me,” the breeze began guiding him. The further Tenko followed, the more clear it became, until Tenko found himself at a shrine within the opening of a pine forest. The roof had collapsed and the doors were missing. A statue in the center towered over him, its face missing from the eyes up. Its lips quirked into a smile that gave the young fox pause.
A chuckle escaped the statue, followed by another frosty breeze. “Don’t look so confused. Has it been so long since you’ve met a god?”
Tenko scoffed. “You? A god?” He sized the figure up. “Shouldn’t gods be more, I don’t know… gaudy?”
The god chuckled again. “My, it must be many years indeed if you have no fear of making such jokes in front of me.”
“I wasn’t joking,” Tenko huffed.
“Neither am I.” The statue’s lips thinned into a line. “I’m sure you must understand how an immortal life is not guaranteed luxury nor paradise. We’ve both been thrown out by our brethren, forgotten by those who should be worshipping us.”
“Worship?” Tenko repeated incredulously, “Who would worship a kitsune like me? They’ve cast me out. They hardly acknowledge me as a fox. They’d never accept me—”
“Not unless a god was on your side,” the statue interjected, a grin stretched wide across its face. “I can be that god, Tenko, and all those fools who speak of you like a warning, omen, or curse, will tell your story like a legend!” Tenko stood at attention, the power of the unknown god before him intimidating enough to put him on edge. Once the wind ceased, the statue spoke, “Prove to me you’re worthy of my aid and I shall crown you in heaven!”
Tenko thought for a moment of his childish desires to enter heaven; of the years he spent alone on earth. It was more than a dream—it would be a cure to this wretched loneliness. He looked to the statue and asked, “Why me?”
“Like I said,” the statue’s head tilted downward at the kitsune, “you can understand me.” Suddenly the statue’s arm reached toward its head, wood creaking and moaning with every motion. It pulled a small mirror from its half-formed skull and held it out for Tenko to see. The young fox approached slowly, entranced by the vision of a human battle in its reflection.
“I once led the heavens into prosperity. It was a world humans feared. They lived and died for us.” The statue frowned. “Eventually the humans thought too haughty of themselves and rose up. My foolish younger brother enabled them by creating three sacred relics. But I’m no fool. We both know firsthand how terrible those humans are.” Tenko nodded. This endless era of war was proof enough of that.
The mirror focused on a warrior plated in gold armor as he fought viciously with a sword. The statue explained, “In the millennium it took me to find the Eight Hands Mirror, the mortal realm has been driven to chaos. Another naive human managed to uncover the second of the relics: the Kusanagi sword.”
“And you’re having trouble getting it?” Tenko asked, eyes glued to the warrior as he slayed another crowd of rivals with the powerful blade.
“I’m recovering. Acquiring the mirror was a difficult task.” The statue smiled again, stuffing the mirror away in its hollow interior. “This is where you prove yourself. Bring me the sword and I shall escort you to heaven.”
“What about the third?” Tenko asked.
The statue raised a finger to its lips. “That will be the easiest, so it will be last.”
Tenko took the deal, swayed by a promise of escape. He would ensure his new future, leave this awful life, and start anew in heaven where his sister couldn’t. With a sly grin of his own, Tenko set out to find this warrior.
After ten days, Tenko tracked the warrior down. His army had just sieged a castle and many of the soldiers spent the week celebrating in drunken stupor. Tenko slunk around town until striking gold caught his eye. At the center of a crowd of warriors was Tenko’s target. The man looked like a decorated samurai, which made Tenko apprehensive. Trickery and mischief were his forte, not combat. He would simply steal the sword when the man was disarmed.
Tenko hid in the shadows, following the warrior and his comrades. The small group made their way to the outskirts of town, deep into the forest. Tenko realized what was truly happening when they stopped at a rock wall.
Three men came into view from atop the wall, bows drawn at the warrior. Before he could reach for his sword, his comrades pointed their own swords at his back. Only the croaking of bows resonated through the stifling air.
One of the samurai said, “The Symbol of Death: Usagiyama. Seems even you aren’t invincible.” He nodded toward one of his cohorts to approach the warrior from behind and disarm him. “You’ve gotten too damn bold lately. Uncontrollable bloodlust… like some monster. And we all know what to do with monsters, don’t we, men?”
Usagiyama looked at each of the snickering men as their leader loosened the obi holding the Kusanagi. Tenko eyed the sword carefully, waiting for the right opportunity.
“Watch it!” a voice shouted as Usagiyama ducked and spun around, dagger in hand and going for the kill. An arrow to the leg promptly stopped him, sending him tumbling to the snowy ground. The warrior’s hands trembled as he broke the arrow off, its head still embedded in his thigh while the other man kicked his weapons away.
The leader of the group stepped forward. “You really are a monster.” His comrade cursed as he kicked Usagiyama in the head, his helmet rolling off.
All the men, even Tenko, were shocked to find a woman under the armor. Her long, silken hair stuck to her face as she glared at them. Rising to her knees, she put pressure to her wound and gritted her teeth to suppress the pain.
The leader schooled his face back into a cocky smirk. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”
“And you’re just full of shit,” she replied before spitting blood at his feet. “Doing this behind the lord’s back. Ambushing me like cowards.”
“It was my lord who told me to kill you. After you helped us secure the castle, of course.” The leader nodded to a man. He grabbed her right arm and held it out while another traitor struggled to hold her still. The leader approached and said, “With no one else to rival him, there’s only one threat left.”
Usagiyama snickered. “And let me guess, you get a good seat as his favorite retainer.”
The man raised his sword and shouted, “Try saying that again, demon!” In an instant, her arm was gone.
Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes. She took several sharp breaths before cackling, making the men hesitant to get close enough to finish her off. Even at her most vulnerable, Usagiyama was frightening.
Chest heaving and eyes bloodshot, she shouted, “You’re all such pathetic cowards… You think this means you’ve defeated me? I’ll find you in the next life and hunt you down! You wanted a monster? A demon? Then I’ll become one just for you lowly traitors! That’s right, I’m the Symbol of Death and I’ll drag you to Hell with me!”
Another slash of a blade, and she quietly slumped into the snow.
The men left. Clouds gathered and the wind slowed as Tenko finally approached the woman. Her hair was coated in snowflakes while she laid on a crimson bed of snow. Her breaths came out shallow. The air felt sharp in Tenko’s lungs and his blood ran cold at the memory of his sister. Is this how she looked in her final moments? So helpless and afraid?
Something in Tenko reached out, moving his body on instinct. He shifted into his human form and knelt beside the woman, hands hovering just above her skin in hesitation. Caring and nurturing went wholly against his being. He feared that the slightest touch would end her life.
Then Tenko saw her eyes. The tears she refused to cry had left trails across the deathly pallor of her face. Brushing his thumb across her cheek, Tenko found his resolve.
Hoisting the woman onto his lap, he wrapped his hands around her torso and palmed her wounds. The life poured out of her at a speed he could not counter. Healing was something a malevolent fox like himself wasn’t accustomed to.
Unsure of what else to do, Tenko curled his hand behind Usagiyama’s head and lifted her neck. In a swift, instinctual movement, Tenko met his lips with hers and offered the one thing that could save her: his kitsune bead.
Usagiyama awakened three days later. Tenko entered her room and was greeted with a confused, hostile look. She readied for a fight before wincing.
“Don’t move so suddenly. You’re still healing,” Tenko said. He knelt beside the bedding and reached out to help her settle down, only to pull his hands away before their skin touched. He was still wary of his touch. There were too many times he’d ruined something with just his fingertips.
Usagiyama bit back another show of pain, but obliged. In a strained voice, she asked, “Who are you? Is this your house?”
Tenko didn’t answer. Avoiding any personal details was the safest option. Luckily Usagiyama didn’t probe further. Her chest rose and fell as the pain subsided. Reaching a hand across her chest, her fingertips ghosted the place her left arm should have been.
“You didn’t see what happened?” Her voice was quiet now.
Tenko couldn’t admit that he did. It would only snowball into why he was there and what he was after—why he chose to save her.
“You were in the snow, bleeding, left for dead. That’s what I saw.”
“I suppose I owe you a debt.” There was a hollow look in her eyes and Tenko felt a tinge of regret. Not for the vague answer, but because of his prior inaction.
He quickly excused himself to fetch food and water. When he reached the doorway, he paused and quietly added, “You can call me Tenko.”
When the sun disappeared behind the mountains, Tenko returned. After handing her a bowl of food, he sat in a corner of the room and scarfed down his own. They ate quietly until the world had completely fallen into darkness.
Usagiyama broke the silence. “Is there a lamp somewhere?” She looked to the ceiling where a shallow light peeked through the old structure. “Only thing keeping us from total darkness is the moon.”
“I like the moonlight.” Tenko huffed.
A laugh startled the kitsune, who stared at the woman in confusion. “That has to be the most unusual thing I’ve heard in a long time.”
“Unusual?” Tenko repeated.
“You don’t seem the type to make such a remark.” Despite the darkness and the distance between them, her eyes met with Tenko’s and he felt his ears burn hot. “You like the moonlight,” she carefully rose to her feet, “and I like to be warm. So let’s start a fire——” She stumbled on uneasy footing, falling forward before Tenko caught her. He hadn’t even realized he sprinted for her until they were face to face.
“I told you… careful.” Tenko whispered, his eyes drawn to his hands wrapped around her, propping her up. When she was back on her feet, Tenko hastily let go and rushed out the room. “I’ll get more blankets,” he called back. “And a fire.”
Usagiyama followed after. “A lamp will do just fine.” She quietly added, “And you can call me Rumi.”
Tenko glanced at the woman, strangely warmed by such a simple name.
After uncovering a small oil lamp, Rumi showed Tenko how to light it without any questions. Though she did make a comment about his cherry-red ears once there was finally light in the room. Tenko cursed the loathsome things.
The nights felt warmer and days passed faster as Tenko spent time with Rumi during her recovery. Winter was approaching its end and the woman showed incredible resilience. She was walking around and helping herself in a week; picking up the sword again within two.
Under a plum blossom tree outside the house, she spent all day swinging the Kusanagi around with her weaker hand. Tenko watched from the engawa, frustrated with each day of little progress. One day he finally asked her why she bothered at all, to which the woman replied, “I’m a warrior. It’s in my nature to fight and move forward.” Tenko rolled his eyes at the answer. He never understood the human concepts of honor or duty. Such foolishness only got them killed.
Yet, he couldn’t stop watching the woman each day, training in the snow under the plum blossoms. It was only days later, while having another meal together, when she made her own inquiry.
“You don’t like me much, do you?”
Tenko froze, taken aback by the question. Where had she gotten that idea?
Rumi pushed aside her food and said, “You always scowl at me as I train.”
Was his expression strange? He had to admit that controlling his face as a human was pretty difficult.
“You never talk or look at me when we’re eating like this.”
Is that what humans did? Talk while they ate? It seemed a chore to do so.
“And…” Rumi paused and looked down at her food. “You never share the blankets with me despite the cold nights.”
Come again? Tenko stared at the woman in disbelief. “I don’t…” Tenko started to deny the accusations, until he couldn’t find the best means of explaining himself. He sighed and pushed his bowl away as well. “I’m not used to… being around others. I’m not good at being a good person.”
“Yet you saved my life,” she ruminated, “Is that not what a good person is?”
Tenko frowned at the hands in his lap. If only she knew the truth, she wouldn’t make such ludicrous claims.
“What’s saving a life when I’ve already taken another?” he muttered.
Of course, Rumi heard. He knew she did, and he expected some aloof remark in return. What he didn’t expect was her hand on his head, fingertips smoothing over his hair as she consoled him.
It was then he noticed he was crying.
He finally talked about Hana for the first time since her death.
Over time, Tenko found himself opening up more. He laughed with Rumi over pleasant meals, helped with her training, and even began sleeping beside her through the cold nights. Rumi told him about her mother and the fables she heard as a child while they stargazed through the broken roof. He’d recount stories from his past never shared with anyone while he helped redress her wounds. Though he still kept his kitsune identity a secret. He wasn’t ready to face that issue yet.
A month of isolation with the woman had Tenko feeling a strange emotion. He seemed to develop a puzzling affection for her, though in the back of his head he knew nothing could blossom from this. After all, Rumi was a human and Tenko was to enter heaven soon.
Did he really want that, though? The longer he spent with Rumi, the more unsure he was of his goal. He grew too attached, and now he didn’t want to go back to an eternity of loneliness, even if it was in heaven.
At least, that’s what he assumed he wanted. It was on the thirtieth day, when Rumi had fully recovered and donned her armor again. Under the familiar plum blossom tree, she spoke earnestly to Tenko:
“I’m going to kill the men who did this to me. Then I’ll kill my lord.”
Tenko knew all along that was her intention. Ever since witnessing her curse those men in the woods where she should’ve died—from the moment she picked up the sword again, he knew.
He also knew she was walking to her death.
Rumi was a warrior, she would live and die as such. Tenko hated that about her. He hated how stubborn and bullheaded she could be, how she was so rash and abrasive.
Yet she was also so confident and honest. Her laugh was loud and infectious, her voice soothing to Tenko’s ears. That same hand that could kill had held him so delicately. Rumi was beautiful and bright. She was another light Tenko couldn’t bear to see disappear.
On the thirtieth day, Tenko realized he loved Rumi.
On the thirtieth day, Rumi left with Tenko’s bead. If his life was worth nothing else, he wanted it to at least keep Rumi safe.
The ache of loneliness welcomed Tenko again. As dusk approached, a rain befell the pine forest and Tenko knew right away it was another fox rain. As he left the house of his best memories behind, he followed the pines toward a shrine. There was one last responsibility he needed to resolve, even with a broken heart.
“What an appalling form this is.” The smiling statue’s voice dripped with something wicked.
“This coming from the god missing half his head,” Tenko scoffed into a short coughing fit.
“Is something amiss? Is this not another one of your tricks?”
Tenko chuckled despite how numb his fingers felt. He was at his limits for living without his bead. “Our deal’s off. The sword slipped away… and took my bead with it.”
The statue’s smile had disappeared. “You stupid mutt.” It raised its voice. “No, you’re more useless than a mutt. You’re an insect.” Tenko was frozen in shock, hair standing on edge as the god’s voice boomed throughout the shrine. “To think you’d be even more pathetic than your sister.”
Tenko felt his blood rush at the mention of his sister, the air stifling. He snarled between gritted teeth, “What about my sister...”
The god grinned from ear to ear, a sunset glow outlining his face. “That stupid fox made the same deal as you and captured the Eight Hands Mirror for me.” The statue moved its arm and rummaged through its hollow head. “She even had me convinced that she was the one with the Sacred Bead, when it was really you she was protecting.”
“What did you do to Hana…”
Raindrops pattered across the shrine, and a bolt of lightning struck in the distance when the god uttered the truth.
“Isn’t it obvious? I killed her, of course.”
The statue pulled a yari from its head, a glare from the sun reflecting off its blade like a spotlight on Tenko. “If only you had kept the Sacred Bead, at least your death would have been meaningful.”
Tenko fell to his knees, his body weakening by the second. He wanted to scream, lash out, and rip out this god’s throat. Instead he resigned himself to a quick and quiet death as the statue drove the pike downward.
The god yelled, “I’ll just have to hunt that wench down and take both relics myself!”
A figure intercepted the strike, cutting the pike clean in half. Tenko could barely make out the Kusanagi through his blurry vision.
“I’m already here, so come and get me!”
Tenko was stunned. “Rumi?’
She glanced back at him, expression softening. “I owe you a debt, remember?”
A million questions ran through Tenko’s head, though a movement in his periphery snapped him out of his stupor. “Look out!” he shouted.
Rumi hardly noticed the statue’s large arm sweeping across the shrine floor before it knocked her across the room. She crashed into a wall, disappearing amid the dust and debris.
“Stupid insects,” the god cackled, its grin wide and disturbing. “I’m grateful you brought the relics to me! Now go ahead and die for me as well!”
The statue’s arm thrust down, narrowly missing Tenko as the yari shot at its hand. A cloud of dust erupted from the impact and suddenly Rumi was rushing to Tenko’s side again. The bead had protected her from the collision. In the moment, they were hidden by a smokescreen and the sound of heavy rain and Rumi wrapped her arm around Tenko, tight and warm.
“I barely made it!” she exclaimed.
“How did you—”
“I realized I’d rather have you at my side a little longer.” Rumi pushed some wet hair behind Tenko’s ear, cupping the back of his head and pulling him into a kiss. In seconds the bead was transferred back to Tenko, his body invigorated with a newfound energy.
Rumi smiled into his lips while Tenko stared back, astonished. His heart raced and the rain came to a stop. As he stared at his hands—sharp claws coming in quickly with his powers returned—he turned to Rumi.
“Now let’s kill a god,” she said.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she sped toward the statue as the dust cleared, Kusanagi held low and skittering across the puddles left behind. The god threw another fist her way, but Rumi dropped and slid across the floor. Instead the fist was cut clean off with a vicious swing of Rumi’s blade. It shattered into pieces as it crashed onto the ground, the god cursing the warrior rushing at it. Dragging a sword of its own out of its head, it parried with the woman until her footing slipped and she was swiftly disarmed.
The statue captured her in its fist, laughing until a pure white kitsune pounced. Tenko ran across the statue’s arm, leaving a trail of decay in his path. The arm holding Rumi crumbled to dust while Tenko leapt into the head of the god, destroying it from the inside. The god raved as his vessel fell apart to nothing but the Eight Hands Mirror.
Tenko ran to Rumi, shifting to his human form and offering her a hand out of the dust. She pulled him down into the rubble with her, laughing at the yelp he let out. For a while, they sat there, catching their breath and stargazing through the broken roof.
Finally, Rumi broke the silence. “So, a kitsune?”
Tenko blew some hair from his face. “Yeah.”
Rumi glanced at him with a little grin. “You’re telling me everything.”
Honestly, Tenko had never been more excited to.