‘The land of the Kitsune,’ repeated in my head as I gazed around the area - that was abandoned. How did we even get here in the first place? It was what? Was it my second day here in Hell, and have I been teleported to another land? I barely know about the world, and here I am - teleporting… To random places with random people. I’d like to have gone on a tour of the place I was brought to in the original, but this was fine, too, right?

Walking through the ruins, each step over the scattered debris felt heavier than the last. Relatively fresh from our argument, I could feel the tension radiating from Kurai like the cold from the stones around us. I glanced at him, seeing how tightly his jaw was set, and felt regretful for the harsh words we had exchanged. Wanting to mend the rift but cautious of saying the wrong thing, I chose my words carefully. "The craftsmanship of these stone carvings is remarkable, isn't it? There’s a resilience in them," I murmured, hoping to steer us toward something neutral, something safe. 

Kurai barely nodded, his gaze distant, as he replied tersely, "Yeah, they’ve stood longer than the ones who made them." His voice carried a sharpness that belied the sorrow I suspected lay beneath. I sensed the layers of his feelings—bitter yet proud, detached yet deeply connected. At that moment, I decided to simply stay by his side, silently offering my presence as a bridge over the chasm our fight had created, hoping it would be enough for now. It was the best thing I could do in this unknown world.

Continuing our walk, the ruins around us loomed as silent witnesses to our strained companionship. I wanted to say more, to dig, but realizing how cold Kurai was left me awkward. Perhaps I could learn a little about his previous home before... whatever happened here and to the Kitsune. 

Hesitantly, I spoke again, choosing my words to reflect curiosity and care. "Do you think the people who lived here were happy?" I asked, glancing sideways at him, trying to invite him into a conversation without demanding it. Kurai paused, his footsteps halting as he looked around at the crumbling walls that had once echoed with laughter and life.

"They had their moments, like anyone else," he finally said, his voice softer, less guarded. It wasn't much, but it was more than I had heard him share about his feelings in a long time. Encouraged, I tried to speak a little more to him to eliminate our awkwardness. 

 "It’s hard to imagine all the stories left behind," I added, my voice tinged with a wistfulness that I hoped would resonate with him. Kurai shot me an almost imperceptible glance, and I saw something flicker in his eyes—was it gratitude or perhaps a shared sadness?

We moved side by side, and the barrier between us slightly lowered. I knew better than to push him further, but I felt a quiet triumph in the small victory of his openness. The open land was an incredible sight, and I couldn’t help but wonder what happened there. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t think it was the time to dig for so much information as he seemed pretty set on his destination. 

“Um, so I wanted to ask,” I started slowly as I thought about how we were teleported here in the first place, “How did we get here?”

Kurai, still silent, just barely glanced at the dagger that lay on my side since I had been able to collect it before coming here.

"You know, you talk a lot," Kurai sighed.

I felt a flush of embarrassment and crossed my arms, suddenly self-conscious. Yet, amidst my discomfort, a surge of unexplained confidence grew within me. I met his gaze, drawn to the subtle luminescence of his eyes under the muted sunlight. "Your eyes are glowing," I pointed out, unable to mask my fascination.

"Mmm, so are yours. Interesting," he responded calmly, his tone hinting at layers of unspoken thoughts.

As we stood there, the air between us charged with a curious energy, I couldn't help but wonder about his mysterious abilities. How he transformed into his fox form during our conflict was awe-inspiring and unsettling. 

"The same way they glowed yesterday," he noted, his voice steady.

I remembered the intensity of our previous encounter. "I noticed it, too, when we were fighting. My eyes had this faint glow, barely visible in the reflection from Enoxon’s light barrier," I explained, shaping a rectangle with my fingers to mimic the barrier.

Kurai's expression shifted slightly as he added a quiet revelation, "The same way I saw Astaroth’s eyes glow that same purple." He paused, looking away and shaking his head slightly. "Be careful around Astaroth. You should know—he’s manipulative. He and Mundus.”

Mundus.

“This ‘Mundus’ called you brother yesterday; what was that about?” I questioned quickly.

“It’s nothing - just something he does,” Kurai replied. “He calls Enoxon brother, too.”

“I didn’t hear him call Enoxon's brother once.”

“Then you weren’t listening,” He stated firmly. “Besides, it’s none of your business.”

“Fine, I won’t pry,” I huffed, crossing my arms. “But I want to know how we were teleported here – please.”

The path wound through the ruins, leading us away from the trodden routes into a part of the village I had never seen. Kurai moved with a purposeful silence, his familiarity with the route evident in every confident step. The landscape transformed as we passed through a narrow opening in a crumbled stone wall. We entered a hidden garden, an unexpected haven of vibrant wildflowers and lush greenery that contrasted starkly with the desolation we had walked through. Kurai stopped, his stance softening as he surveyed the scene with a wistful expression.

"Let me have your dagger," Kurai demanded abruptly.

"No!" I retorted instinctively, clutching the handle of my dagger tightly.

In a swift, fluid motion, Kurai brushed aside my hands guarding the dagger and deftly snatched it from my hip. A sudden grin showed on his face as he commented, “You’re rather slow.” 

A spark ignited in Kurai’s eyes—a fleeting but unmistakable flicker of determination. My own resolve flared in response, fueled not only by the desire to reclaim my dagger but also to prove to this demon fox that I was anything but slow. My focus narrowed, drowning out the surrounding forest until only Kurai remained in my sight. He held the dagger aloft, examining it with a curiosity that seemed feigned, designed to taunt me. Despite my efforts to leap and retrieve it, my height betrayed me, and I fell short each time.

"Why do you need it?" I snapped, my patience thin as I crossed my arms and glared at him.

Kurai’s lips curled into a cryptic smile. “It’s not just about need,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate with hidden meaning. “It’s about seeing what you’re truly capable of, Snow. You can’t be a human in our world with a demon chasing after you. ”

In a fluid motion that seemed to blend shadow and light, Kurai’s human form shimmered and shifted. Where he had stood, a massive, five-tailed fox now crouched, his fur a deep, swirling vortex of midnight hues. His eyes, still human in intensity, fixed on me with a challenging spark.

“Try to retrieve it,” his voice echoed in my mind, the words resonating as if carried by a breeze. The dagger gleamed between his sharp teeth as he took off, his tails streaming like banners in a gust of wind.

 I chased after him, my boots thudding against the soft forest floor, irritation bubbling as branches snagged at my clothes and roots threatened to trip me. This was no longer a simple spar over a stolen weapon but a test—a game he had devised to push my boundaries.

Kurai darted effortlessly, his form a blur of agility that seemed to mock my every move. My annoyance surged into a fierce, burning determination. Each failed attempt to close our distance only fueled my frustration further.

A strange pause in Kurai's movement caught my eye as I surged forward. He stumbled slightly, his usual grace faltering under an invisible weight. His eyes met mine for a moment, and I saw a flicker of confusion—or was it recognition? It was as if the storm of my emotions had jumped between us, and he was now bearing its brunt.

"You're very slow," I heard his voice echo.

"Yeah, I'm a stranger in a strange world, up against a literal fox demon," I retorted, halting to survey the quiet clearing. Not a bird chirped. No wind rustled the leaves; it was unsettlingly still. Spotting him should be easy. But just as he reentered my line of sight, his form dissolved into a cloud of shadows, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. 

"What the hell is that?" I demanded, my voice tinged with anger. "You're using magic? Against a human?" I gasped for breath, my body struggling to keep up.

How is one supposed to learn to combat demons if not faced with their magic? I focused on the shifting shadows near the treeline, attempting to anticipate his movements. It reminded me of hunting in the woods, predicting where the prey might head next. Considering he was technically a fox, I expected this to be manageable. Nearby, I reached for a rock, preparing to counter his next move.

Armed with the rock, I crouched low, my senses sharpened by the unfamiliar challenge. The silence of the clearing felt like a heavy blanket, suppressing every sound except for the rapid beating of my heart. Understanding his movements would be crucial to my survival in this strange, magical confrontation. 

Every second felt like an eternity as I waited for the fox demon to reveal himself. My eyes scanned the shadowy edges of the clearing, searching for any sign of movement. The anticipation was maddening, each rustle of a leaf or faint breeze causing me to tense in readiness. 

Finally, a flicker of movement caught my eye. Without hesitation, I hurled the rock towards the fleeting shadow. It was a desperate guess, fueled by instinct more than certainty. The rock cut through the air, striking a tree and causing a small explosion of bark and leaves. 

To my surprise, the fox-demon materialized from the shadows, his expression a mix of amusement and surprise. "Not bad for a human," he remarked, his voice carrying a teasing edge. It was clear he wasn't used to being challenged this way. 

This brief encounter taught me a vital lesson: quick thinking and adaptability are as powerful as any spell in a world ruled by magic and mystery. As we stared at each other across the clearing, mutual respect began to form, setting the stage for a complex relationship fraught with the challenges and wonders of this magical realm. 

Then I saw his ear flicker, and he tossed the dagger toward me before disappearing again. 

“OH COME ON!” I groaned loudly. 

You’re Slow, Snow. I’m not sure your dagger will help - but perhaps.

“Next time, I’ll remember to be able to vanish in and out of the darkness. Does that sound good?”

If you can, just admit you are weak. Probably the reason you were caught by the demon. 

I bit my tongue as he caught me off guard. Whirling around, I charged at the demon fox once more. But just as I closed in, he vanished into thin air, causing me to stumble and smack into a rock. The impact sent the dagger flying from my grasp, and I landed hard on the ground, frowning. "Stupid fox," I muttered under my breath.

"Stupid human," his mocking echo came from nowhere.

Frustrated by his rudeness, I rolled over and swiftly picked up my dagger. My eyes darted around the clearing, straining to catch any hint of his next move. The only sound was the wind, and my hope of having a magical ability to smell the fox seemed just as fruitless. Then, a snap of a twig caught my attention. I spun towards the sound and glimpsed something, moving slyly in and out of the shadows, its orange-tipped black tails flickering in the sunlight.

With renewed determination, I chased the fleeting glimpse of orange, almost catching him before he vanished again. "Stupid and slow, what a horrible mix," I grumbled, my frustration mounting.

As I focused on the last place I had seen the Nogitsune, an overwhelming force suddenly shoved me to the ground, pinning my arms out to the sides. I desperately struggled beneath Kurai’s heavy form, kicking and even attempting a headbutt. But he was too quick, dodging my every move with ease. The dagger lay just out of reach, knocked aside during the scuffle. 

Dead. 

Anger surged within me as I glared at him. My gaze locked into his deep, amber eyes mirrored the sun perfectly. Even in his fox form, something was captivating about his eyes. I felt a slight blush color my cheeks, but I quickly shook off the mesmerizing effect and caught him off guard. With a swift movement, I lifted my knees upward, kneeing him right in the rib cage and forcing him off me.

The fox tumbled into the dirt, stirring up a cloud of dust as he landed. "Off-guard hit, good job," I muttered, feeling a brief surge of satisfaction.

Brushing dirt from my chin, I reached for my dagger, grasping it firmly. However, I let go in shock when my hand wrapped around the base. The handle was unexpectedly burning hot, scalding my hand slightly and causing me to recoil. "Now that was strange," I thought, puzzled by the sudden heat.

I reached for the dagger again, finding it warm but no longer scalding. Clutching it tightly, I closed my eyes to concentrate, trying to envision where the fox demon might have vanished. Holding the warm dagger, I sensed a presence nearby, almost as if the warmth generated a vision in my mind, outlining the landscape around me. Surprisingly, I felt connected to the earth and Stonehenge, with the wind rushing around me. I seized this mysterious sensation, tracking the white outline of a moving shadow through the stones.

Just as he was about to pounce from behind, I remained motionless. At the last moment, I spun around and pressed the handle of my dagger against his chest as he leaped above me. "Dead," I teased with a grin spreading across my face.

The Nogitsune, faced with the back of the dagger against his chest, offered a prideful look, and a slight grin flickered across his muzzle. In an instant, he vanished and reappeared behind me, pinning me down on my stomach with my arms sprawled out. His muzzle came close to my ear, his breath warm as he whispered, “Pinned and Dead.”

His voice sent shivers up my spine as my face pressed into the dirt, leaving me awkward and uncomfortable. Goosebumps crept up my arms, betraying my embarrassment. Struggling, I reached for the dagger lying just out of my grasp. I huffed in frustration as I felt the fox's weight lift from my back. Seizing the moment, I grabbed my dagger and rolled onto my back, staring up at the sky, feeling exhausted from the brief yet intense encounter.

“What started as sorrow quickly turned into anger, then a job well done,” I reflected aloud. Catching my breath, I acknowledged his prowess, “You’re quick, Kurai. I’ll admit it, and a very sly fox.” Pausing, I added with a hint of respect, “I guess you are a Nogitsune, little fox demon.”

Little? He echoed.

Taken aback by the creature's sudden proximity, I found my eyes drawn to his ears—so soft and fluffy. An irresistible urge took over, and I reached out to pet his head, a gesture-driven by pure impulse. As my fingers brushed through his solid black fur, the silkiness drew the anger from me, sinking it into the earth below.

"Little," I repeated, a soft laugh escaping me as the tension dissolved. He growled in response, pulling away sharply and even kicking up some dirt in his retreat. "I am not a fox of amusement," he seemed to say, "please do not lay your gross human hands on me."

Rolling my eyes, I sighed and closed them, letting the warm air envelop me. This warmth contrasted the chilly ambiance of snow-covered Asturdorm and my mountain-shrouded home village, where sunlight was a rare guest. The sun bathed me here, warming me like a homemade biscuit, satisfying a profound hunger. I lay there, the dagger still in one hand, while my other hand rested on the once beautiful, now dirt-smeared, red dress.

"Kurai," I murmured, eyes still closed, curiosity coloring my tone. "You have five tails?" The memory of his fox form floated through my mind.

Kurai's voice, no longer echoing my thoughts, materialized beside me. I turned slightly, observing him as he sat casually, one knee up, the other leg stretched out. He propped himself up with one arm, his midnight-black hair fluttering slightly in the breeze, a small, almost invisible smile gracing his lips. His amber eyes shimmered with pride and joy from the day's victories, reflecting the sunlight that cast a soft bronze glow on his skin.

Discovering that I had brought joy to Kurai, a demon, stirred a peculiar satisfaction within me. It was a revelation—demons, too, could experience happiness. This insight sparked a newfound curiosity about Kurai and his kind. After all, I realized that regardless of one's nature—human or not—everyone deserves to feel happiness. I smiled, feeling prideful myself. 

“Five tails, yeah,” He commented, his gaze still fixed on the setting sun. “Honestly, getting these tails’s been a long journey.”

Looking over him, I noticed how relaxed he was. Perhaps he didn’t get out much, or if anything like the other day happened where Astaroth and ‘Mundus’ took him away, he didn’t seem to get along with others. He argues with Eno and me over the simplest things; the way I read him is a hot-headed demon. His temper was a switch. 

"How long did it take you to get these tails?" I asked him, curiosity evident in my tone as I observed him bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

"Surprisingly, not long," he replied calmly, stretching his legs before him and leaning back on his arms. His voice carried a hint of pride. "I’m quite strong, actually," he boasted lightly, a playful arrogance lacing his words. "Despite being among the youngest Nogitsunes, I'm among the strongest, with only five tails. It seems I was pretty much born with this power."

I nodded, listening to his little pride talk. He seemed to enjoy talking about himself, so whatever I did worked. Fighting can lead to moments of, well, getting to know someone. I felt a smile play on my lips as I teased him, “If I can almost get you with my dagger, perhaps you aren’t among the strongest.”

"Almost?" Kurai raised an eyebrow inquisitively and lowered his gaze towards me. Strands of his hair gently fell across his amber eyes, barely concealing them. The sunset cast a warm glow that highlighted the contours of his face, enhancing his otherworldly beauty.

"Ah," I murmured, my eyes darting away quickly. Why is he so beautiful for a demon?! I thought, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me. My cheeks warmed with a pink blush as I recalled how he had been in my mind earlier. Oh gosh, please don’t be in my head right now. Despite my efforts to avoid his gaze, the allure of his presence was overwhelming. His features seemed to capture the dying light, making him appear formidable and stunning— a stark contradiction to the dark nature often associated with demons.

But he didn’t reply to me.

I sighed in relief, rolling over to my stomach before springing to my feet. I quickly dusted off the dirt clinging to the soft fabric of my long, breathable dress. Though a few tears were along the lining, nothing seemed too severe. "Well," I began, my voice tinged with a pout as I deliberately avoided Kurai's mesmerizing gaze, "I apologize for not being a better-skilled human who had no idea that demons and angels were ever real, let alone a Nogitsune who can shift in and out of the shadows."

"Trust me," he replied quietly, his tone laced with a hint of mystery, "You’ve seen nothing yet."

"Shall we head back? Perhaps the Celestials have left by now," I suggested, hoping for a break from the unexpected realities of this world.

"Nah, I think you oughta practice some more," Kurai countered, his suggestion catching me off guard. I smiled, accepting his offer with a newfound eagerness. The peaceful, one-on-one training with this demon fox was intriguing and strangely comforting. Suppose I was going to navigate this world. What harm could there be in learning more about how to effectively wield my dagger and possibly unlock more of its latent power?