A Fox's Vacation (American Kitsune Book 5)

by Brandon Varnell

  Contrary to popular belief, dogs can, in fact, see in color. It’s a common misconception that dogs can only see in black and white. However, their vision is limited and different than a human’s.

  A dog’s vision is similar to a human with red-green color blindness, albeit, there are some minor differences. Dogs are less sensitive to shades of gray than humans, and they’re also only about half as sensitive to changes in brightness levels. Dogs are also nearsighted to boot.

  It was the inability to distinguish between shades of gray that hampered her vision now. Her eyes simply couldn’t perceive any shifts within this seemingly colorless void.

  Fortunately, being an inu, she didn’t need to rely on her eyes.

  “Water Art: Fire Hydrant.”

  The roar of rushing water alerted her to an attack from behind. She swiped at the sound, her hair whipping around her as she spun about. Her timing was flawless. Her claw clashed with the water, which exploded on contact, spraying everywhere. Oddly enough, while water splattered all over the place with impunity, Kiara did not get wet. Even her clothing remained dry.

  “Water Art: Kraken’s Mouth.”

  Before Kiara could react, the water that had formed a puddle around her feet rose and morphed into six slithering tentacles, which wrapped around her legs and only remaining arm. The tentacles then constricted, pulling her body toward the ground as, all around her, water rose up like the jaws of some apex predator of the ocean.

  “Don’t think such a weak attack will be enough to defeat me!”

  With little fanfare, Kiara’s power burst free from its constraints. Unlike kitsune, who needed to channel youki through their tails and then shape it into a technique, inu had no such need—mainly because they did not have any techniques. All they had was power. Pure. Raw. Unfiltered power.

  Her youki flared, the aura of her impressive energy becoming visible, bursting from her body with the vengeful wrath of a mighty storm, an unending, unbending tempest of unrestrained force. The tentacles that held her evaporated, and the watery jaws that sought to consume her were blown away. The power of Kiara’s youki was such that even the cloying fog bowed before it, dispersing to the four winds.

  She could only see one of them as the mist vanished. It was the younger kitsune, the one who’d tried to suffocate her with water. He stood there, his two tails swaying from side to side, lashing out in an agitated manner. His stunned expression caused her to grin.

  “Let’s see you escape from this!” she shouted before channeling youki to her mouth. There was no molding involved. She simply infused her youki into her mouth. Then she released it.

  The gust that followed was much like the one that Lilian had nearly been caught in during their battle. It passed over the earth, tearing the ground apart. Large chunks of asphalt were ripped asunder, flying into the air, joining the maelstrom which eventually struck the hapless kitsune.

  The kitsune became mist. The mist vanished. Kiara clicked her tongue.

  “Another illusion.”

  That’s what she hated about fighting against kitsune. Most of them preferred using stealth tactics. They’d bombard you with illusions and hit you with specialized techniques when you were distracted. It was a good strategy that worked well against stronger opponents, but damn if it didn’t steal most of the fun out of fighting.

  She searched for her opponents, but she could see nothing beyond buildings and road and rubble. Had they escaped? No, she could still smell them. They were near, but she couldn’t pinpoint them. Their scent was everywhere. An illusion had probably been woven over their scent to confuse her.

  She ignored her sense of smell and sight, and instead she focused on her hearing. Her acute sense of hearing allowed her to pick up everything around her; the hum of generators within the buildings rumbled in her eardrums; the sounds of cars driving and honking in the distance provided a most annoying rhythm to the world around her; the sound of waves lapping against the dock would have been soothing under different circumstances. Now, where was…

  There!

  Footsteps echoed to her left.

  Kiara turned, hyperextending her hand in a knife-edged strike. A crescent wave of youki shot from it, blasting across the street at breakneck speeds. There was a grunt of pain, followed by blood spattering against the ground. Something blurry appeared in front of her. Water sloshed off a figure, which revealed itself to be the four-tailed kitsune. A gaping hole could be seen in his chest.

  The kitsune stumbled. He raised a hand to the hole. Disbelieving eyes stared at the wound as if he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. He looked up and met her gaze before his eyes glazed over, then he fell backwards with a dull thud, his head cracking against pavement.

  Then his body turned into water.

  It took Kiara several seconds to realize that she’d been duped by another illusion. The body was gone, the blood was gone, and all that remained was a puddle of water. She could no longer detect their presence. Even their scent had vanished.

  Sighing, she lifted her only remaining hand and scratched the back of her neck.

  “This is why I hate fighting against kitsune. Damn cowards.”

  ***

  Like most kitsune, Lilian had never been much of a fighter. She might love watching anime and reading manga, which usually featured people clashing in climactic battles of epic proportions, but that didn’t mean she had a lot of fighting experience.

  This fact became blatantly obvious as Lilian was forced into combat against her strange assailant. She’d tried everything in her arsenal, but none of it worked. Her celestial techniques were all avoided by limber and graceful movements. What’s worse was that she knew this woman was just toying with her, like a cat toying with a mouse.

  She’d dispelled her technique, Celestial Art: Orbs of an Evanescent Realm, when it became clear that it wasn’t working. Most of the time, her spheres were dodged, and when her enemy couldn’t dodge them, they were swatted away with contemptuous ease. More importantly, Lilian could only control three orbs at a time. She had neither the training nor the concentration required to control more.

  As the six orbs surrounding her body were dispelled, the graceful assassin shot forward almost too quickly for her to track.

  She’s so fast!

  Lilian pumped as much youki through her body as she dared and sent it into her legs. She sped backwards, avoiding the heel drop that would have pounded her into the ground. She eyed the indent left by the foot warily. Abrasions had appeared along the asphalt, proof of the woman’s strength.

  “Who are you?” Lilian demanded. “Why do you keep attacking me?”

  Surprisingly, the woman answered her.

  “Nya, like I said before, it’s nothing personal…” She trailed off, then rescinded her previous statement. “Actually, I take that back. It wasn’t personal, until you decided to be stupid and nearly got Kevin killed, nya.”

  “What does Kevin have to do with this?” The gears in Lilian’s mind turned. “You… who are you?” she asked, subtly casting an illusion over the woman.

  “Who I am doesn’t matter, nya.” The woman’s solemn declaration was ruined by her strange catchphrase. “All that matters is that I’ve been contracted to kill you, so that’s what I’m going to do.” She paused. “And don’t try to cast those pathetic illusions on me. They won’t work.”

  “How did you…?” Lilian feigned surprised.

  “I may not be a kitsune, and I may not be good at casting illusions, but I know how to dispel them.” The woman set herself into a loose fighting stance. “Now, let’s try this again, nya.”

  Gasping at the speed with which her opponent charged her, Lilian sidestepped to the left, her torso bending backwards as she dodged a viciously slashing claw. She created a bridge with her torso, her hands and feet firmly planted on the ground. She then pushed off with her feet, which forced her attacker back, lest the cloaked woman receive a kick to the chin.

  Completing her maneuver,
Lilian landed back on her feet and was just in time to be met with a flurry of swift punches. She moved as quickly as kitsune-ly possible, using the basic defensive style taught to her back when she’d still lived in the Pnév̱ma compound in Greece. Most of the mysterious woman’s attacks consisted of jabs and claw swipes—an unusual combination, but undeniably effective. Lilian had no time to think, only react.

  Lilian stumbled as the air in front of her was displaced by something moving at high speeds. She moved faster than she ever had before and was able to avoid the black blur that struck the ground. She tried to see what it was, but the object retracted into the woman’s cloak too quickly for her eyes to follow.

  Two short steps brought the mysterious woman into her guard. Lilian swiftly moved her left hand, even as she twisted her body to the right, deflecting a thrusting claw that would have stabbed her through the chest. Her feet slid across the asphalt, body spinning. Ducking underneath a claw swipe at the last second, Lilian grimaced when she felt several strands of hair get sliced off her scalp. She moved back to try and put some distance between them, but her foe clung to her doggedly, refusing to give her a space modicum.

  Lilian’s back was soon pressed against a wall as the woman thrust another clawed hand at her, too fast for her to dodge. All she could do was block. Lilian lifted an arm to defend against the clawed hand, but even reinforcing her skin as she was, the claws still penetrated her flesh.

  “G-geh!” Lilian gasped as fire lit up her forearm. She could see them, the four claws that were firmly embedded into her arm. Blood leaked down her skin, running along her forearm and dripping onto the ground. Her attacker applied pressure to her arm. Lilian groaned and whimpered as she was forced to a knee.

  “Nya, it looks like you managed to block my attack.”

  Lilian bit her lip, more to keep from crying out as the woman twisted her claws than for any other reason.

  “Ha…” Her enemy, her face still hidden beneath the cowl of her hood, sighed. She sounded almost euphoric. “This is the end for you, nya.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

  “Eh?”

  Bright yellow eyes widened as the girl in front of her, along with the blood on the ground, vanished. Those same eyes blinked when the cloaked woman realized that her hand was embedded deeply within a wall and not someone’s flesh.

  “Wha… an illusion? Impossible!”

  “Celestial Art: Celestial Cannon.”

  Again, a large orb of golden youki appeared at the tips of Lilian’s tails. A beam shot from the orb and engulfed the woman, the wall, and even the room beyond. Lilian shoved as much youki into the attack as she could, despite knowing that it would exhaust her. She wanted to make sure this assassin couldn’t try to kill her anymore.

  As the adrenaline left her system, Lilian slouched. Her raspy breathing grated harshly in her ears, and her tails hung limply, as if expressing that they were also tired from having released so much youki.

  “There…” she gasped, sweat pouring down her face. “There’s no way she could have survived that.”

  “You think so, nya?”

  That voice…

  Lilian froze. No. No, no, no, no, no, no! It couldn’t be. There was no way… absolutely no way she could have survived that. Even a kitsune with three-tails would have been annihilated by a technique of that caliber!

  “You really surprised me with that last attack,” the voice continued. Lilian shuddered, her mind trying to deny what her ears were registering. “I didn’t think a kitsune with just two tails would be capable of an attack like that, nya. And to layer two illusions on top of each other without me even noticing it… clearly, I’ve underestimated you.”

  Lilian turned around, her breath catching in her throat. Before her stood a woman. Black hair had been woven into an artful series of braids that clung to the back of her head, held in place by a large pink ribbon. She wore a black latex bodysuit that clung to her like a second skin, conforming to her lithe yet voluptuous curves. Some of her clothing was gone, small patches had been burnt off by Lilian’s Celestial Cannnon, showing that she had not escaped the attack unscathed. Still, the fact that she was still alive sent shivers down Lilian’s spine. Two long, thin black tails swayed behind her, and a pair of triangular ears twitched on her head.

  “Nekomata…” Lilian breathed, struck by terror and despair.

  “That’s right.” Bright yellow eyes stared at her, glinting like the edge of a razor blade. “I’m a nekomata, nya, and I’ve come to send your soul to the Shinigami.”

  ***

  Their fighting styles couldn’t have been more different.

  Kotohime realized this from the onset of their battle. Where she preferred close-range combat and sword techniques, her opponent had a predisposition towards illusions and long-range attacks. These he used to gain distance in order to weave his specialized techniques. He seemed to favor visual illusions rather than ones that messed with depth perception, hearing, or a person’s coordination.

  The pavement around her cracked and three geysers of water crested the air. The water undulated before each geyser morphed into something long and serpentine: dragons. The monsters stared down at her. Roars, mighty and powerful, erupted from their mouths before they descended upon her like ravenous beasts.

  Kotohime sighed.

  Then she dispelled the illusion. The dragons disappeared; the cracked ground became mostly pristine again, with only the pockmarks and furrows left from attacks made by her katana and her opponent’s techniques showing.

  “Kitsune Art: Hydro Cannon.”

  Kotohime turned around quickly. She slid her left foot forward and her right foot back, stabilizing her position. Her sheath remained in her left hand, the katana inside, and her right hand was on the hilt. In a classic use of battoujutsu, she smoothly slid the blade from its sheath, the hiss of steel inaudible over the sounds of rushing water, and sliced the water beam flying at her in half.

  “Ikken Hissatsu. Ougi.”

  As if a tornado underneath her feet was driving her forward, Kotohime flew across the space that separated her from Kaine. Her katana, already released from its sheath, flashed once, twice, three times in quick succession—or so it seemed at first. It was only after nine silvery lines of light appeared on Kaine’s body, crisscrossing along his skin and clothes, that it became obvious that the number of strikes she’d committed were three times the number of flashes seen.

  Unfortunately, Kaine proved to be just another illusion, having replaced himself at the very last second after using the water variation of the speed technique: Chiratsuki.

  “Your sense of timing is impeccable,” Kotohime complimented as she regarded her surroundings. She could not sense any fluctuations in youki, nor could she sense any foreign youki in her body, meaning her opponent had not attacked her with an illusion after escaping from her blade.

  “And your talents with a blade are just as unmatched as I’ve been led to believe. You truly earn your title of Blood Moon Princess.”

  Kotohime grimaced. She did not enjoy the title that kitsune and the other yōkai had given her.

  “I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

  “Why would I call you anything other than what you are?” the man asked, sounding almost condescending. “Everyone knows of what you’ve done, of the countless lives claimed by your blade. Blood Moon Princess is a name that suits you quite well. Or, perhaps you would like me to call you the Crimson Princess of the Ōnami Clan?”

  Kotohime’s lips became a flat line. “I suggest you cease speaking of things that you know nothing about.”

  “Oh, I know plenty. For example, I know that around one hundred years ago, you fell in love with a human.”

  “Stop it.”

  “And I also know that that human ended up getting killed when you—”

  “I said stop it! Gekido, Tsukiyomi-no-Mikoto!”

  It would have been inaccurate to say that Kotohime’s blade moved, for t
he term implied that movement was visible, that it could be perceived. Similar in many ways to the question, “If a tree falls in a forest and nobody's around to hear it, does it make a sound?” As stated by the possibility of unperceived existence, the act of Kotohime moving her blade from one position to another could have been stated as, “If a blade moves but no one sees it happening, does that mean the blade did not move at all?” While the idea sounded ludicrous, it was enough to give an idea of how fast she moved.

  At the same time that Kotohime swung her katana, she spun around in a full rotation. When she stopped, her blade was in the same place it started before she began to spin, with the tip pointed at the ground in front of her feet. There was a moment of silence. Everything stood still, as if the world itself was waiting on baited breath.

  Then it happened.

  It was like something out of a natural disaster movie, like a documentary that showed the effects of devastating earthquakes and level five hurricanes. The ground around Kotohime exploded. The air around her reverberated as a powerful supersonic shock wave burst across the airspace. A ripple effect spread along the pavement, upheaving large chunks of asphalt, launching debris in every direction. The “ripple” spread at least one hundred yards outward from where Kotohime stood, and the large pieces of rubble flew even farther.

  Several buildings in the immediate vicinity collapsed when the devastating shockwave crashed into them. The buildings wavered before literally falling in on themselves, like a stack of cards or a tower of Jenga blocks that were no longer capable of holding their own weight. The structures were shaken apart, until they were nothing but a pile of rubble.

  This was Kotohime’s second most devastating technique: Gekido, Tsukiyomi-no-Mikoto. Wrath of the Moon God.

  When the technique ended, the vicinity in which Kotohime’s battle took place looked less like a warzone and more like something out of an epic fantasy battle. She stood on a raised platform in the center of a massive crater at least fifty feet in circumference and twenty feet deep. The platform she stood on, a perfect circle with completely smooth edges, was the only piece of flat land left in the vicinity. Everything else had been destroyed.