Chapter Six
The Nogitsune
Awoken to a soft chatter, my body began to stir, and I was brought back to reality from my dreams. “Who’s talking this early in the morning?” I murmured, rubbing the sand out of my eyes. When my gaze fell on the window across the room, I frowned and stared out the window momentarily at its darkness on the other side. Perhaps this was the norm for the underworld? I guess it made sense that there was no sunlight. As much as the dark resembled the ability to sleep peacefully, I decided I’d get out of bed. Making my way to the closest, I examined what was in there. Lots of darker clothing, nothing too bright or eye-catching. I guess that was okay. I didn’t need to catch the unwanted attention possible with colorful clothing.
I selected a striking red dress from the array of garments. This elegant piece featured an extended cut, accented with a black belt adorned with golden and white buckles. Just below the chest, two ornate golden buttons added a designer flair. The dress modestly covered my chest, revealing a slight side profile. A slim black button encircled my neck, marked with a red design, and left my upper chest visible through two delicate diamond-shaped cutouts.
Accompanying the dress was a chic ribbon for my upper arm and a matching red and black ribbon for my hair. I quickly swept my long white hair into two high ponytails, securing them with the hair ribbon. After a playful twirl in front of the mirror, I couldn't help but smile, admiring the dress's stunning effect. I felt regal, like a queen, though I knew the underworld likely boasted far more exquisite attire. Nonetheless, filled with confidence, I left the closet behind and entered the hallway.
As I rounded the corner of the hall, I sat quietly at the top of the stairs and stared down them like a child would when expecting someone special. I sat there, my eyes scanning down the rounded stairs into the living room, and tried my best to listen in on their conversation.
“I don’t know why we can’t meet her,” The first voice spoke.
“She was nearly unconscious for three days - just for her to recover and wake up to run away - only to get found again,” Enoxon’s voice sighed in response to the first voice.
“Yeah, well. I think it was a silly choice that she ran from the safety of this place, but I guess if I were kidnapped, too, I’d run away!” The first voice definitely belongs to a female.
Did she say I was out for three days?! Maybe I was out for a single day - that’s it! What’s even today anyway?! I huffed, ready to go downstairs and confront Enoxon.
“You need to understand. She’s just a human, Casielle; you cannot expect her to be in perfect condition after being nearly killed by a demon,” another voice, belonging to a male, said.
“Ugh, that’s true. But still, a human that activated the Underworld’s portals? We barely have access to them!” The female spoke.
Curiosity got the best of me as I began to make my way down the stairs, but I felt a slight tug at the back of my dress that I had on. Spooked, I just about lost my balance and made a grand entry into the living room -but just in time, Kurai’s grip pulled me back in and steadied me. Once I regained my balance on the spiraling staircase, I turned my head to see how close he was and why.
"Perhaps we should let them finish their conversation, yes?" he suggested, deliberately avoiding my gaze.
I responded with a sharp glare, the remnants of last night's argument echoing in my mind. Despite the tension, his posture remained composed, and his ears perked upright in a display of alertness rather than annoyance. "Who... is here?" I inquired softly, turning my head away to focus on the activity downstairs. My feelings towards him were still mixed, yet I felt a pull to engage with him.
"The Celestials—they're receiving a report from Enoxon. They can be quite tiresome; it's better to steer clear," he whispered.
I noticed he was still gripping my arm, seemingly worried I might stumble again. "But wouldn't it be impolite to not meet them if they asked about me?" I asked as I gently pulled my arm away from him.
“You don’t know the full conversation—best to avoid them until you’re ready,” Kurai sighed. I mean, if you want to go meet them, by all means, you’re free to,” he coughed, standing up straight as he did so and putting his hands behind his head. But what do I know? I’m just a demon here in Hell.”
I frowned at his demeanor, regretting the harsh words I had hurled at him. An inexplicable force had driven me to lash out—a force I barely understood. Memories of those eerie purple-glowing eyes floated back to me. Could it have been an illusion from the fire? That brief glimpse of purple in my eyes while rage consumed me? I lifted my gaze to the Nogitsune, compelled to apologize to him.
As I opened my mouth to speak, he raised his hand to stop me, casting a sidelong glance with a trace of hurt visible in his amber eyes. “Don’t,” He said immediately and shook his head. “You were tired, hurt, and had just one Hell of a day.”
“Kurai-Kun?! Is that you?” the female voice squealed up the stairs. “Kurai-Kun!! Come downstairs and say hello!! Please!!”
Embarrassed, Kurai's ears drooped as he quickly reached for my arm, pulling me away from the stairs with his tail swishing gently behind him. I winced when he inadvertently grasped my injured arm, the pressure igniting a mild burning sensation on the exposed wound. I wasn't sure if the discomfort was directly from his touch or simply because the wound was still open.
Doing my best to keep pace with him, I attempted to wriggle free from his firm grip. Gradually, I managed to shift his hold from the middle of my arm down to my wrist as I was dragged along. “What are you doing? She was talking to you,” I stated, looking over my gaze as I heard footsteps coming upstairs.
“Casielle, stop! This isn’t appropriate!” The mystery male’s voice sounded.
At the end of the hallway, Kurai immediately pulled me into a room and shut the door.
In his room, I gazed around. It was a simple black-and-white room; the windows were tall, similar to the one in the room I had woken up in. What truly captivated me, though, was the abundance of plants that brought bursts of vibrant greens throughout the room. Each corner, each shelf held a bit of lush greenery, from delicate ferns to stately peace lilies. Apparently, by the looks of it, Kurai loved plants - which is strange considering he’s a Firefox. Perhaps his room was covered in fire to make it hot, but it was not iTunes-like. It was unimaginable how well-attuned these plants were around someone so in tune with destruction.
“Sorry, I did not want to speak to her,” He muttered, standing awkwardly in front of his door.
“You seem to like plants?” I question him, ignoring his comment.
“Uh, y-yeah,” he stammered awkwardly and shook his head. I’m not sure why I brought you here. You’re free to leave.”
“No,” I stated, wandering around the room as I gazed at the different types of plants that surrounded his room. I came to a stop in front of a white-cherry-blossom-like tree. Kurai's care extended to a genuinely unique cherry blossom tree that seemed to defy the norms of its kind. Unlike the typical delicate pink blossoms, this tree featured deep, dark crimson petals that almost appeared black in certain lights. Its bark was an ashen gray, giving off a ghostly vibe that would not be out of place in the underworld.
The tree's leaves sharply contrasted with the mysterious dark blossoms, shining with a vibrant, almost unnatural, green hue that suggested a magical vitality. The tree's overall appearance was captivating and slightly unnerving as if it drew its life from both the natural world's beauty and the nether realms' shadowy depths. Curiosity getting the better of me, I reached out to touch one of the petals, intrigued by its deep color and mysterious aura.
The moment my fingers brushed against the blossom, a sharp, searing pain shot through my hand. It felt as if I had touched a live ember. I quickly withdrew my hand, nursing the tingling sensation on my fingertips. It was a stark reminder of the tree's formidable nature, a vivid proof of its connection to the underworld's fiery energies.
Kurai, noticing my discomfort, flashed a slight, teasing smile. "It's beautiful but dangerous," he warned, his tone laced with a hint of mockery. "Not everyone can handle it." He glanced back at me as he touched one of the petals gently. “It’s called the Shadowflame Sakura,” he stated, a touch of pride in his voice. “Its petals are used for unique potions, like a Fire Resistance Potion,” he added, almost challenging me to question his knowledge.
Watching him, I couldn't help but smile softly. Despite his recent brash demeanor, his passion for his plants revealed a surprisingly tender side to him. However, when he caught my smile, his expression flickered to annoyance, and he quickly turned away. "Don't get the wrong idea; I just know a lot about these things," he muttered, his cheeks tinged with a hint of red, betraying his embarrassment.
Kurai's eyes flicked back to me, his previous irritation softening slightly. "Well, it's not often someone takes an interest without getting burned," he replied, his voice dropping to a more guarded tone. He paused as if weighing his words, then continued with a reluctant shrug. "I suppose it's more than just a hobby. These plants, they're part of who I am."
His admission, rare and guarded, made me realize the depth of his connection to the Shadowflame Sakura and the other mystical elements of his life. It wasn't just care; it was a part of his identity, something he perhaps didn't share lightly. "I can see that," I responded, my voice gentle, aiming to reassure him. "It's impressive, really.."
The corner of Kurai's mouth twitched upwards, a brief, elusive smile suggesting my words had reached him, easing the tension. "Maybe," he conceded, turning back to the Shadowflame Sakura with a more thoughtful gaze. Be careful around it, alright? I don’t want to have to use any of those potions on you."
I couldn’t help but smile in response, but then a hint of guilt began to eat at me again. “Kurai, I want to apol–”
He cut me off again and sighed, “I said it’s alright. I get it. You don’t need to apologize,” He muttered.
“No, I do need to apologize, please?” I asked him, standing near the Shadowflame Sakura, my back against it now.
“Fine, make it quick,” He responded.
“I have never snapped at someone so quickly; I’m not sure what happened. But… I noticed something strange,” I said, looking around the room awkwardly for a place to sit.
“Like what?” He asked.
"Well..." I murmured, my attention drifting. That's when I spotted the end of my well-crafted dagger resting on one of his desks in the corner. My tone shifted, a mix of surprise and annoyance creeping in. "Hey! Can I have that back yet?!" I called out, unable to hide my irritation that he still had it.
“No. You can’t. There’s something about that dagger,” He replied, shaking his head.
I ignored his words and moved toward the desk, but he stepped before me, blocking my way. Swiftly, he grabbed my dagger from the desk and held it out of my reach. "Give me the dagger!" I demanded, fixing him with a cold stare.
“Snow.. Snow, right?” He asked, raising my eyebrow.
I narrowed my eyes, my gaze fixed on my dagger, its orange and black hues shimmering under the soft light of his room. "Fine—then tell me what you know!" I demanded, crossing my arms defiantly.
"I'm still researching that part," he replied, subtly tucking the dagger away into his clothing.
"You mentioned it was ancient the other day—what did you mean by that?" I pressed further.
"Didn't you say you had an apology for me?" he countered, deftly shifting the focus back to me.
Feeling defeated, I took a deep breath and stepped back from the nogitsune. "I am sorry for snapping at you," I admitted, a sense of relief washing over me as the words left my lips.
With a quick nod, Kurai looked towards his door. “Can you tell me where you received this dagger?” he asked.
“I, um…” I murmured, gazing around the room once more in an awkward position. “My dad gave it to me. He always told me to keep it on me for protection - and I’ve never had to use it until the other day - which, by the way, did you know I was out for three days?!”
“Getting off-topic here, Snow,” His voice rolled smoothly.
“Err, right. Um. My dad made it for me.”
“A human made this dagger…?” The nogitsune’s voice trailed off as if he had something more to say, but he shook his head.
I smiled as I embraced the memory of my father. “I was… Perhaps five, maybe six?” I thought about it and continued, “My father and I were preparing for my first hunting trip—we lived in an area where we often hunted for our food and sold some of the game," I began, my voice tinged with nostalgia. "I'm not sure how he managed it, but he presented me with this empty dagger," I said. “Can you at least show it to me, please?”
With a tight grip, the man unsheathed the dagger again and held it a few feet from me. I pointed to the fire alarm at the end of the dagger. “He held the dagger in one hand and the fire opal in the other. As he offered them to me, he spoke with such pride..." I paused, the memory of my dad's broad smile flashing. His expression was so earnest, yet there was a seriousness in his gaze that left me uncertain whether he felt excitement or fear.
“He told me, ‘Snow, this dagger will protect you—even in your darkest times. Follow its light, and you will find your protector,’” I recounted to him what my father had said, a small giggle escaping me as I continued. “I never really understood what he meant by ‘finding my protector.’ I assumed it was a metaphor, implying that the dagger was my protector. Ever since that day, I’ve always kept it with me, even as a little girl—I’d sleep with it under my pillow. When I attached the fire opal to it, it started to glow slightly—I just thought it was the sunlight hitting it. I was a child, so that explanation made sense then!” I added, reflecting on those innocent beliefs.
With its black steel and fiery-orange opal, the dagger always made me feel safe. I carried it everywhere, always ensuring it was with me. It was more than a tool; it was my precious keepsake, a symbol of protection and a connection to my father.
"I see. So, did you ever find this so-called protector?" he inquired.
"Ah, it was just a metaphor, as I mentioned. I never got to ask him what he meant by it..." My voice faded, weighed down by the shadow of a memory, as I glanced back at the dagger above me, in Kurai’s hand. What started as a fond recollection turned somber. "I was in class when the principal called me to the office," I began, the pain evident in my tone. "The fear that gripped me then... when I was told..." My voice broke, unable to continue, while a tear escaped and landed softly on the floor of Kurai’s bedroom. "... That they had died."
I reached for the dagger that Kurai held just out of my reach, my knees weakening as the haunting memory flooded back. The overwhelming fear when I was told that my parents had been in an accident and died so suddenly. That morning, my 16th birthday began with 'Happy birthday' and 'I love you' and abruptly shifted to 'I miss you.' Both my mother and father were gone in an instant. Overcome, I sank to my knees, clutching the dagger close to my heart as tears began to stream down my face.
It was odd, but sharing this story with someone I had only met a day ago somehow lightened my burden, as sorrowful as the tale was. I didn't have many friends in the human world, and those I had weren't very close. In many ways, I was alone, so having Kurai there to listen—even out of obligation—offered a small comfort amidst the tragedy of my parent's deaths.
Kurai's reaction was a complex mix of discomfort and concern, his usual bravado faltering under the weight of my story. His eyes briefly met mine before darting away, and his voice came out gruffer than usual, tinged with an awkward sincerity. "I... uh, I’m not great with this emotional stuff, but that’s... really rough. Sorry you had to go through it," he muttered, struggling to find the right words. He hesitated momentarily before his hand reached out, almost reluctantly, to give a brief, stiff pat on my shoulder—an unfamiliar gesture of comfort from someone so habitually reserved. Then, nearly embarrassed by his empathy, he quickly shifted his gaze and added briskly, "Just keep that dagger safe, alright? Seems important." Despite his brusque manner, I could sense the genuine concern behind his words, making me feel slightly less alone in sharing my grief with someone I had just met.
A clang on the floor startled me, tugging at my heartstrings when I realized it was the dagger, now several feet away from my grasp. As I looked up, my face still wet with tears, I stared directly at a fox in Kurai's room. My eyes, blurred from crying, locked onto the fox just a short distance away. Where did Kurai go?
The fox nudged the dagger toward me, and his head tilted some.
As my gaze steadied, I saw this fox form—a striking nogitsune with fur that blended black, white, and hints of orange. The black fur was deep and lustrous, enveloping most of his body and giving him an aura of mystery. His chest and the tips of his ears were a pristine white, contrasting sharply with the darker hues. At the same time, subtle streaks of orange accented his face and tail, catching the light and adding a fiery depth to his appearance. His eyes, still the same, pierced through the dimness of the room, reflecting a familiar yet otherworldly intelligence. It was breathtaking, if not slightly intimidating.
Hmm, that’s new. I heard a voice in my head. Oh, that’s new, too.
I blinked, “What… Why are you a fox?” I asked, my tears blinking away as I frowned at him. “Kurai?”
"A Nogitsune can be influenced by deep emotional turmoil—I must be clear about that. When you shifted from joy to sorrow, it seems I involuntarily transformed," Kurai's voice echoed directly in my mind, his tone somber. "Usually, I have control over when I change forms, but this time, I couldn't manage it. It might be because your emotions are so potent right now, given the trauma you've just shared. Nevertheless, I thank you for the unintended nourishment." His words, though straightforward, carried a hint of regret, acknowledging the complexity of his nature amid my own distress.
"A Nogitsune can be influenced by deep emotional turmoil—I must be clear about that. When you shifted from joy to sorrow, it seems I involuntarily transformed," Kurai's voice echoed directly in my mind, his tone somber. "Usually, I have control over when I change forms, but this time, I couldn't manage it. It might be because your emotions are so potent right now, given the trauma you've just shared. Nevertheless, I thank you for the unintended nourishment." His words, though straightforward, carried a hint of regret, acknowledging the complexity of his nature amid my own distress.
I stared at the small fox a few feet away. "What?!" I exclaimed, anger surging through me. "You mean to tell me," I said breathlessly, "that after I share my deepest traumas, you... you just feed off my emotions?!" Shocked, I sat up straight, crossing my legs and balling my hands into fists on my lap, fixing him with a furious glare. "And you can just... consume my sadness? Like it’s some kind of meal?" He looked utterly unaffected.
He tilted his head, flattening his ears. That’s not what I meant, Snow.
"Of course, that’s not what you meant!" I snapped at him. "To think I even came here to apologize to you," I muttered, my emotions swirling chaotically. Anger intertwined with hurt, and my fists clenched so tightly I could feel my nails digging into my palms.
Snow? He said to me. Look at me real quick.
“No, get out of my head!” I growled at him.
I am sharing with you why I was in my fox form. And now things are just weird - I meant no harm.
"You really are just an asshole, aren't you?" I muttered, my voice still quivering. Hastily, I grabbed my dagger and clutched it tightly to my chest. Oddly enough, I felt an unusual warmth as I held it close. I gazed down at the blade cradled in my hand, my eyes starting to well up with tears poised to fall. Observing the dagger, I saw it glow again with an orange hue - just as it had the other night.
Now, I wasn’t trying to cause any harm. I just felt as though an explanation was needed? I’m not sure - I have no idea what to say right now. He seemed embarrassed, and his voice in my head had no emotion.
I glared at him, my gaze fixed on those deep amber eyes he possessed. They seemed to hide all his emotions, even in his fox form, confusing me even more.
Ah, I’m sorry? His voice echoed in mine as the little fox came up to me.
The dagger's glow intensified, its warmth escalating to a searing heat. It became so hot that it felt like burning my hand. Overwhelmed by the heat, I dropped it onto the floor of Kurai's bedroom. "What did you do to it?!" I shouted at him accusingly as if he were responsible for the dagger's scalding metal handle.
I didn’t do anything?! He replied to me as he stuck a paw on it. It’s not hot for me.
“YOU’RE A FLAMING MAGICAL FOX DEMON; OF COURSE, IT’S NOT HOT TO YOU!” I snarled at him.
With that, a puff of smoke appeared, and once more, there was a human in front of me, his black ears sitting atop his head and his amber eyes staring back into mine. “Like I said, I have much more research on it. Now, if you could quit yelling before you attract attention,” he muttered, picking up the dagger and examining it.
As I reached out to snatch his dagger, our fingers brushed against each other, and something extraordinary happened. An intense orange glow enveloped us, radiating from where our hands touched. This glow quickly expanded, forming a shimmering portal around us. The familiar surroundings of Kurai’s room began to blur and warp as if being sucked into the swirling vortex of the portal.
Suddenly, we felt a powerful force pulling us forward, and with a dizzying rush, we were propelled through the portal. The sensation was like traveling at an incredible speed, with colors and lights streaking past us in a blur. Moments later, the rapid movement ceased, and we found ourselves gently deposited onto the ground in a completely different environment, far from the confines of Kurai's bedroom.
As we steadied ourselves from the teleportation, I looked around, bewildered by the landscape that unfolded before us. It was a place of haunting beauty, starkly contrasting the urban confines of Kurai’s room we had just left. The land stretched in rolling hills covered in lush, vibrant grass, swaying gently in a soft breeze. Scattered across the landscape were old stone buildings, their structures elegant yet worn by time, suggesting a once-thriving settlement now abandoned and silent.
No signs of life, human or nogitsune, were evident, only the whispers of the wind through the grass and the distant echo of our movements. The buildings bore the marks of neglect; ivy climbed up their sides, and wildflowers pushed through the cracks in the stone, nature slowly reclaiming what had once been shaped by hands.
Kurai's expression revealed a mix of nostalgia and sorrow as he surveyed the area. He didn’t say anything, but he seemed mesmerized by the area. He trickled a few feet forward, running his hand on a few of the stone buildings with moss growing up the side of them, and noticed some burn marks.
“Kurai, where are we?” I questioned him, gripping the dagger close to my body.
"I..." he murmured, his pace steady as he led the way through the tall grass. "You..." His words faltered, and he struggled to form a coherent response.
“Kurai?” I pressed, seeking clarity in this mysterious and unfamiliar place.
After a moment of hesitation, he finally said solemnly, “We’re in the land of the Kitsune.”
