“Kali! Aiko! Time for supper!”
Two sets of paws raced through the tall grass, tails wagging as they nearly crashed into the genkan with their transformations. As Aiko shook off the fur of her fox form, Kali followed behind, a little slower to make the transition back from beast. It didn’t stop her from trying to shove her way in front, fingers grasping at the door handle as her sister pushed her back.
“Mama said my name before yours, so I get to go first!”
“She called us at the same time, you wet dog!”
All it took was a snapping of jaws before they went down in a tangle of teeth and claws, only halted by the scraping of the shoji against its track, door sliding open to reveal their mother in all her exasperation. She had yet to wipe the rice flour off the front of her apron, the stark white standing out against the cool grey.
Of course, at her appearance, both froze, Aiko’s teeth still firmly holding to the soft fur of her sister’s ear.
“..And what do you two think you’re doing?”
The two fell apart, Kali blurting out as they did. “Mama, Aiko called me a wet dog!”
“You’re such a tattletale!”
“Am not!”
“Am too!”
“Girls, enough.” They fell silent as a sigh fell from their mother’s lips, leaning down to pinch at their cheeks with gentle fingers. “Come on you two, enough bickering. Let’s get you washed up, alright?”
“Alright Mama!”
The Kato’s were a proud line of kitsune, reaching back to the time before humans, when the world was wild, conquered not by the slice of a sword nor the shot of a bullet but the might of tooth and claw. In those days, they were more fox than anything else, magic running through their veins as naturally as the blood that accompanied it. They had gazed upon humanity’s child-like stumble into civilization with curious eyes as the other fae turned their backs, crowing about how a species so short-lived wouldn’t be around for long, noses upturned at the mere thought.
They were wrong, of course. The kitsune knew, they had seen, had already begun to reach out to welcome them with arms outstretched. It was them once, after all, that the fae folk had scoffed at. It was only natural for them to object to change, their long lives often resulting in them digging in their heels at the notion, but that did not mean it wasn’t coming. The kitsune kept this in mind as they walked alongside humanity, nipping at their heels every now and then to urge them along, to prove to the others that they were wrong in their ignorance.
And oh if it wasn’t a rude awakening when it did. It felt like the world blinked, and suddenly humans were everywhere, their cities sprawling across what were once swathes of untouched forests, from the land, to the sea, to the mountains above their heads. They conquered almost as fast as their numbers grew, like the ever expanding mice in the cornfields, though not so feeble in constitution.
They had spent so much time alongside these new beings, that they too, had begun to change. It was not so much a domestication as it was a transformation, their paws smoothing out into fingers and toes, whiskers drawn back into faces and coarse fur softening into hair. Though they were never far from their more vulpine nature, their true form itching under their skins.
The clan had not forgotten how it had been once, before they had been forced into hiding. Humans were much less forgiving towards their kind now, fear and mistrust governing their violence, till all that was left of the kitsune was the few hiding among them, or those who had found shelter once more among the sharp-toothed fae.
Kali had grown up with this history, overheard in hushed tones and whispered into her ears. She knew there was a reason she had to hide her tail beneath her kimono when she went beyond her family’s fields, tuck her ears to her hair till they had shifted back to what her mother called ‘presentable,’ her magic disguising them till she looked as average as anyone else.
Presentable was human, or as human as they could get anyways.
Sliding the door open with a screech, she stared over at her sister, ears pinned back with mischief. “Are you done yet, Tortoise?”
The groan was immediate, Aiko flicking droplets of water from the hand basin at a squealing Kali. “I wouldn’t take so long had you not completely soiled my clothing, Rabbit. You’re lucky that I haven’t told Mama you nearly dug up her tsubaki bush again.”
Well- She had her there. Regardless, she couldn’t help but slump down against the doorframe. “By the time you’re finished all of the food will have gone cold!”
“Perhaps by that time you will have learned patience.”
A squint of her eyes. “You’re copying Mama’s poetry scrolls again aren’t you.”
“...No I’m not.” Her eyes darted to the side, water dripping from her wet fingers.
“Am too!”
“Uh uh!”
“Uh huh!”
“That’s it- get over here-”
Shrieking fills the room as her sister lunges out at her, the both tumbling to their true forms in the process. They clatter through the house, skidding through the halls till they’ve reached the dining room, the rest of the clan already sitting at the chabudai in various states of ‘presentable.’ They are of course, caught by the backs of their scruffs before they can cause any damage with their play, a few of their family laughing, others annoyed, their faces scrunched in disapproval.
As plates and dishes were passed around her, Kali let herself sink into the familiar atmosphere. Some of the adults were discussing the day’s work, several order forms yet to be sorted through, while others were cooing over her aunt, belly swollen with child. But what was the most interesting to Kali, were her cousins.
“-I barely got away with my life!” Hiroto’s voice carried out across the table, the others rolling their eyes at his remark.
“As if any court would want you.”
Face pursed, he jabbed his chopsticks towards them. “Course’ they’d want me! I’m the fastest of all of you! It’s the only reason I escaped!”
“You’re too annoying.” His sister lowered his chopsticks with a hand, smirking. “They wouldn’t be able to withstand you for more than a day before they’d toss you out by the back of your scruff.”
“...the courts?” She couldn’t help but let it slip, leaning forward in curiosity. “Like in Mama’s stories?”
“They’re not just stories, they’re warnings,” Aiko cut in, the cousin’s conversation pausing with her words. “It’s not something you should joke about at the dinner table, not when we’re right along the border of their territory.”
Their cousin let out a snort, her ears flicking with the tilt of her head. “Lighten up, what would they want with us anyways? It’s been years since we’ve actually heard anything about them. And even then, all they did was spoil some milk and scare some livestock.”
“Not hearing about them is a luxury, Chihiro.”
“A luxury would be you lightening up for once. Come on, everyone knows they don’t go past the forest, and even then, there’s rarely anything interesting enough for them to come on out.”
All her sister gave was a shake of her head, turning back to her meal. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The rest of dinner passed without much fanfare, the family gathering plates and cutlery to be washed as the younger children were sent off to bed. It was while they were drying the dishes for her mother that Kali had the chance to talk with Aiko one on one, or at least, as much as they could get within the house.
“So…” Her tail swung gently into her sister’s side, murmuring as to not be overheard. The running of water could only cover so much noise, after all.
“...You want to know more about the fae.”
With glimmering soot eyes, she nodded.
“Alright. But don’t let anyone know I told you, they’ll think I’m putting ideas in your head or something.” Running the dish rag along the bowl in her hands, her face pursed in concentration.
“We were fae, at one time.” Her face scrunches in thought, lips pursed. “Still are, technically speaking. It was our friendship with mortals that separated us from the others, our immortality fading as we grew closer to them.”
“But… Sobo is already in her second century?”
There’s a swat at Kali’s side, making her laugh. “We’re not immortal. We just live a longer time than most. Some fae have been alive for thousands of years… the oldest I think any of our kind has gotten is a few hundred.”
“So… as old as you?”
“Ha ha, very funny.” Clicking her tongue, she takes to her task once more. “The fae’s immortality makes them cold, uncaring towards anything but their own wants and pleasures. They find delight in the macabre and boredom in the familiar, constantly seeking out new ways to entertain themselves. Which usually involves someone else’s misfortune.” She set another plate aside, the porcelain shining in the lamplight. “Why would they care what happens to people they believe to be beneath them? That is, if they even see mortals as people to begin with.”
“That’s why it's best to avoid them completely, if you can. They’ll steal you away in an instant if given the chance.”
Kali’s ears flop against her head, disappointment radiating off of her in waves. “But what if I do meet one? What am I supposed to do then?”
“Pray that they find nothing of interest.”
Clearly done with their conversation, Aiko turned back towards the dishes, humming as if they had never even spoken.
It was weeks later when the weight of Aiko’s words would truly hit her.
She had been playing outside, her hands curled around the spool of twine that connected her to her, well- technically Aiko’s kite. Her sister herself, had only agreed once Kali promised a bajillion times to bring it back, and even then, she had been too bored with the idea to join her, declaring that she had grown much too old to find any entertainment in the sweeping motions of the kite’s dance (but supposedly wasn’t old enough to trust Kali wouldn’t break it). The rest of her family was either disinterested, too busy, or much too young to participate, though she couldn’t stifle her giggling at the thought of her baby cousins being dragged along the grass by the wind, pulled about like fish on a hook.
Smiling over the ridiculous scene, her attention had slipped from her kite, and in an instant, the wind had ripped it from her hands, the spool unraveling as she desperately tried to grab it back. Her fingers just barely grazed at the spool before it was carried off entirely, moments too late to do much other than watch it disappear into the woods.
Her sister was going to kill her. She loved that kite, with its painted birds and its delicate bamboo frame. There was no way that she’d ever forgive her for losing something that important, why else would she be so insistent that she be careful with it??
Maybe… maybe she could go get it back? Sure, it would probably be a bit battered from crashing through the trees, but it probably hadn’t gotten far. There was no way the string hadn’t gotten caught on anything. She stepped forward, mind moving a mile a minute. It would just be a quick trip through the-
The woods.
She wasn’t allowed to go into the woods. It was the fae’s territory, everyone knew that.
But then again… they hadn’t seen the fae in quite some time. And retrieving her kite wouldn’t take too long…
She took the first step.
Nothing.
Ever so slowly, she made her way forward, her decision made. All she had to do was grab the kite and get out, easy-peasy.
Carefully stepping around wildflowers and ducking around branches, she found herself admiring the forest’s beauty, wild and untamed as it was. Despite her family’s warnings echoing around in her head, she continued forward, taking it all in. The birdsong was so much sweeter here, its sound clear and melodious in her ears.
But the further she walked, the harder it became to ignore the prickle at the back of her neck, as if she was being watched. When she turned, she saw nothing but the maze of trees, stretching onwards behind her.
When she turned back was a different story.
“Now what’s a little thing like you doing all on your own?”
Scrambling back, she was met with the gaze of a tall, lithe figure, their face hidden behind a gauzy white veil. Her magic swirled up as to transform, to become human before they realized, before they realized. She didn’t get the chance before they moved a hand from behind their back, holding it up. Were they… laughing?
“I do not fear you. Do not feel the need to hide yourself for me.”
That was new.
“I’m… looking for something. I don’t mean to intrude.” Lowering her eyes, Kali took in the person before her, their long hair falling down their shoulders like the waves of a pool. The color reminded her of the cherry blossoms in the springtime, a bright pink that shone against the white of their clothes and the mushrooms at their feet. She hadn’t realized anyone lived out this far, hadn’t thought anyone lived in the forest at all.
“Oh? And what could that be, little one?”
Her ears flattened against her head as she spoke, fidgety. “My sister’s kite. I promised to return it to her, but I wasn’t careful enough, and the wind blew it away.”
“Could this happen to be what you’re looking for?”
As their other hand moved into view, she caught sight of blue silk and painted birds.
The kite! And not a scratch on it! Thank goodness it was still in one piece, she wasn’t sure Aiko would have forgiven her otherwise. “Yes! That’s exactly it! Could I have it back please?”
“Of course… but I’ll need your name first.”
Her name?
Oh, she hadn’t introduced herself, had she?
“My name’s Kali! Thank you for finding it for me!”
As her fingers grazed over the smooth bamboo, they swiftly retracted the kite, causing her to stumble closer with it. Caught up in their veil, she tried to look up, mouth poised to question what they were doing-
Until they caught a glimpse of their face.
“It was my pleasure.” And with a flash, the two were gone.
The kite was the only thing left behind.