by Anna Frost
The healing trance was an ability the foxes possessed that put their mind into a coma-like sleep while their body focused its not inconsiderable resources on healing and cleansing itself from wounds and poisons.
“That’ll teach you to drink poisoned tea,” Yuki said while inspecting the sword to ensure they had the right one. One couldn’t put it past a shinobi to execute a skillful substitution. But no, the glyphs looked right and they glowed faintly. “We better hurry and leave. There’s no telling what the remaining men will do.”
“We can go back to the outcrop.”
Sanae slunk inside as a cloud of mist, hardly noticeable unless you looked for it. Her quietness was odd. Hadn’t they won, and without great bloodshed, too?
“Is the demon dead?” Akakiba asked.
Yes…
“What is it? Are you injured?”
Oh? Was that concern in big brother’s voice?
Sanae’s next words wiped Yuki’s amusement.
I think I consumed his energy. I think I ate him.
Chapter Twenty
Sanae
Nothing in Sanae’s life experience suggested what was proper to do when you feared you might have accidentally eaten someone’s soul. When she’d caught the fleeing demon, sinking her teeth in to shake him, his spark of life had not disappeared, but come to her, inside her. It had given her a boost of energy and a satiated feeling, the kind one might feel after a good meal.
Was this why she’d been thinking of food so often? Had she been hungry without knowing it? Was it natural for spirits to eat other spirits, as physical creatures ate other creatures?
It troubled her in ways eating rabbit had never done. Her meal had been self-aware when she consumed it! What about Yoshio the human? Hadn’t she eaten his soul too since he’d been merged with the demon? Did it mean Yoshio no longer existed and could never be reborn, the way Buddhists claimed happened to humans? Would Jien and Aito have an answer if she asked?
“What do you mean, you ate him?” Akakiba said.
They were distracted; this was a mistake.
Chains burst out of the darkness, wrapping around Yuki and yanking him away. The newly-recovered sword had been in his hands.
“Bastards!” Akakiba exclaimed belatedly, the word overlapping with the ringing of his weapon leaving its scabbard.
“Leave,” a disembodied voice said. “We shall keep the sword but we will release the boy when you have gone. If you insist on fighting, he will not survive.”
“Your leader is dead! Why do you persist?”
“Our clan lies in ruins, thanks to you. If this sword is indeed the one once wielded by the first fox lady, it will be worth a fortune in the right hands. That fortune will rebuild our clan.”
Sanae cringed as her brother gave her a I-know-this-is-somehow-your-fault look. Well, yes, that bit of fake lore had come from her. Then again, it would be worse if the shinobi knew the item currently in their possession was the legendary Soul Eater sword that had been wielded by a war hero even as it sucked the life from him.
That truth would inspire more than monetary greed in men. A sword that took a sizeable bite of life-force out of the target every time it struck could make anyone a hero. Indeed, it wasn’t a bad thing for them to think the sword an historical relic of no special powers beside making people uneasy.
I’ll go see what we’re up against, she said, remaining in her mist-form to do so. She couldn’t go physical inside this blasted place, not without asking her brother to destroy every warding glyph in the area, but she could certainly keep tabs on the enemy and ensure Yuki breathed still.
Yuki had been neutralized; his hands and feet were secured by ropes and elaborate knots, his mouth was gagged with a piece of cloth, and his swords had been taken away. He was in a hidden room above the hallway, guarded by five fidgety men wearing a truly astonishing number of weapons on their persons. They looked ready to take on an army rather than a single samurai.
The coveted sword lay on the floor. This would have been a convenient lapse in security if Yuki had any way of escaping his restraints to seize it. Had Akakiba been the prisoner, he could have bled red to break the rope—or shifted fox to loosen their hold. Being mostly human, Yuki couldn’t do either of these things.
“Hurry and make up your mind, samurai!” one of the men called down the darkened hallway. “Leave and see your friend again, or come and die with him.”
“What reason do I have to believe you’ll hold to your word?” Akakiba shot back.
Sanae misted back to report, Yuki’s fine, but tied well. There are new traps in the hallway, nasty ones. If you want to go charging in, do it in fox-shape to avoid setting off the pressure traps.
“If I pretend to walk away,” Akakiba whispered, “can you help him?”
I can’t go physical in here right now. I’d need a body to—
Wait.
Could she…?
Brother, how immoral would it be for me to possess Yuki long enough to break the rope, grab the sword, and toss him out the nearest window? Hypothetically speaking?
Akakiba jerked as if slapped. “You are not going to try!”
Hm. You didn’t die of shock. I’ll go ask him if it’s okay.
“Don’t you dare!”
Sanae misted back to the hidden room.
“Is that samurai…yelling at the wall?” one shinobi asked.
“Why do we get all the crazy ones?” another complained.
Perhaps she should possess one of the shinobi to start them infighting, but the idea was repugnant. Fighting unfair was one thing; invading a person’s mind without permission was…more bad than the bad things she was willing to do.
“What if Yoshio was wrong and the fox isn’t our fake ghost?” a nervous human voice said. “Maybe he has a pet demon and he’s sending it after us...”
“That’s what the glyphs and charms are for,” a calmer voice replied. “Make sure you keep your charm and, whatever happens, do not leave the building.”
The nervous man, who was a lithe shadow in the darkness, clutched at an object he wore around his neck. Ah, it was a protection charm meant to prevent possession. That limited the possibilities.
Focusing on Yuki, Sanae kept her mind-talk for him alone. Hey, I have an idea. If I enter your body, I should be able to bleed red into your flesh. Then you or I, I’m not sure how it works out, can get out of those ropes and out of here.
Yuki twisted his neck as if trying to locate her, but locating mist in almost-total darkness wasn’t possible.
If you’re willing to let me try, lie on your right side.
There was a moment Sanae interpreted as doubtful consideration before Yuki turned to lay on his other side, his right one.
Yuki’s move earned him a kick and a rough “be quiet.” The five men weren’t paying much attention to their prisoner, who they probably considered helpless, but were certainly paying a great deal of attention to Akakiba’s backlit, unmoving shape at the end of the hallway.
Sanae tried to get down to work. Oh, your mouth is full. Can you open wide and I’ll try to wiggle past the gag?
It was the weirdest moment of her life. Probably of his, too. Yuki nearly unhinged his jaw while she stretched her being as thinly as a piece of string. Then even weirder, being inside his mouth, inside his throat, realizing skin didn’t act as a barrier from inside. She could spread—gently, gently—to every limb, to his head, to his mind.
Yuki was no fortress; used to complete contact with Drac, his was an open, trusting mind that welcomed hers. Gingerly, Sanae sought to assert the degree of control necessary to enable the ability called bleeding red, which described the way foxes allowed the supernatural strength of their spirit half to seep into the human half and boost it. In this case, she was the spiri
t half and Yuki the human half. It should work.
She could literally see into Yuki’s mind, into his memories, and he into hers. The embarrassment factor was unspeakably high but it was also amazing to be completely open to someone else, to know and accept them fully. For a moment she thought, this must be what sex is like.
Then, she vanished.
And so did Yuki.
A being who was neither one nor the other was left in their place, a wide-eyed, confused being who could not tell who it was. I’m female, one half said. I’m male, the other said. My name is Sanae, one half said. My name is Yuki, the other said.
The body shuddered in response to its mind’s confusion, and someone kicked it. “Quiet!”
Escape now. Think later.
It was half natural and half new to bring out the spiritual power within, to allow its strength to infuse human muscles and render them more than human. The body shuddered under the influx of power, its muscles straining, and the rope snapped like string.
Before any of the shinobi could ask what the sound was, before any could turn to look, the body had reached out for the legendary Soul Eater. Akakiba had already demonstrated that bleeding red with that thing in hand was suicidal, so the being pulled the spiritual strength deep inside before grabbing the hilt. A yank and the sword came out of its scabbard smoothly, for it had been oiled and sharpened recently. The sword’s glyphs did not glow; they blazed. It felt so very hungry for the life force of its holder, as if it knew it would be especially tasty. Maybe using it wasn’t the best of ideas; what if it decided to bite?
The shinobi had turned to face this sudden bright light, ruining their night vision in the process. The being slammed the sword back into the scabbard, restoring darkness and effectively blinding the enemy. Thrown knives hit the wall as the being dropped to the ground and crawled away.
A voice called urgently, “Yuki!”
That’s half of me, the being thought, and called back, “I live!”
Speaking out wasn’t a terribly good idea, because it told the shinobi in which direction to throw their knives, and one of them found flesh. It hurt, and hurt more when pulled out, which it had to be to prevent potential poison from continuing to seep in the bloodstream.
Best get away before the enemy could see and aim again—but the hallway was perilous with hidden traps. Was a fox shift possible?
It felt new, it felt old, it felt natural. The world changed and there were paws instead of hands, a muzzle instead of a stubby human nose. Scabbard in mouth, good to go.
Time to run.
Akakiba, himself in fox form, was dashing down the hallway from the opposite direction. He skidded to a halt. Yuki? Or Sanae? You can shift?
Yes, yes, and yes. Now run!
They turned tail and fled as thrown knives filled the air like angry bees. Through the door, across the courtyard, into the shelter of trees, they ran.
Every forest smell was new, and old, and wonderful in its intensity. Green things, living things, rotting things, all had a smell. Certain smells said “danger” while others said “tasty.” Couldn’t they spare the time to hunt down those tasty creatures? Maybe just one?
Akakiba had fallen behind, moving unsteadily. Curse that man. I need rest. There was blood on the snow.
You didn’t say you were hurt! When— Anger rose like the tide, slow but inevitable. Did you let this sword touch you?
A mere scratch.
You know this sword does far more damage to the soul than it does to the flesh! Shifting back to human, the being shoved the nasty sword at his waist and picked up Akakiba with both arms. Now it took tongue and mouth to speak. “If you’d had the wits to resist showing off by drinking poisoned tea, it wouldn’t have happened!”
We needed to get information out of him, Akakiba said. He didn’t sound defensive, just tired. He only kept talking because he thought he had me trapped.
“He almost did! How many tails would you have now? Two? One? What happens when there’s none left? You die?”
Likely. But since we have all the swords now, I should have no difficulty not getting stabbed again.
“It’s not funny!”
After a moment, Akakiba asked, Is this Sanae yelling at me?
“It’s both of me!”
They made it back to the camp they had previously made under the rocky outcrop. There, a fire was built up with a pile of twigs left aside for the purpose.
The being drew the sick, shivering fox into its lap to share warmth. The night was chilly, the wind biting. “Sleep. It’s safe.”
Akakiba complied, a sign he was in a bad way. Worrying about it was useless. Either sleep would help, or it wouldn’t.
The being sat there, trying to figure out who it was and how to stop being it. There had been two persons, two minds, before. Now there was one, and it was a mightily confused one.
How could this be undone?
When no answer presented itself, the being decided to work on other problematic issues. Like, “what do I identify as?” The body was physically male, and the two halves seemed able to accept male as a description, at least temporarily. Male, then.
Next up, “what is my name?” Sanae was a female name. Yuki was a unisex name but “Yuki” wasn’t who he was. He was…Sanayuki? Yukisana? Too long, those, and not like real names. Yuna? Saki? Those were real names, but feminine ones.
Kina? That was close to Kin, a real name acceptable for both sexes.
It worked well enough.
Having a name and a gender provided Kin with a sense of peace. While watching over Akakiba’s deep sleep, he wondered—where was Drac?
Yuki and Drac had shared a mind-bond, but now there was no Drac. Was the bond broken or in some way rendered ineffectual by the melding of Yuki and Sanae? It was sad, and troubling, and he didn’t like it.
He was comforted by the thought he would see Drac soon; fox-shape meant fast travel. There would be no extremities threatening to fall off on the return trek. Fur was a wonderful thing.
Hugging Akakiba’s furry form close, Kin chose to believe everything would be well in the end. There were reasons to be content; they had retrieved the Soul Eater sword and kept themselves alive. His knife wound was painful but required no further treatment than a pressure pad to staunch the flow of blood while it healed, fox-quick. It would have been nicer if a certain someone hadn’t allowed himself to be poisoned and stabbed, but, overall, it had been a successful venture.
In the morning, Akakiba—who now looked much more alive—sounded as confused as Kin had been the previous night.
You’re…both of them?
“Yes.”
How is that possible?
“It is as Yoshio said. A spirit entity can meld with a human mind. Neither Sanae nor Yuki tried to keep apart from the other and this happened. I happened.”
Can’t you undo it?
“What do you think I’ve been doing while you slept? I thought and thought but don’t know how to separate myself in two. I don’t know if it’s possible or who could help.”
The monks. They hoard lost knowledge, Akakiba said, indicating the Soul Eater sword as proof.
“Perhaps. We should go now. I worry about Drac.”
Traveling over snow in fox-form was pleasant, even fun. There were always interesting sounds or tracks to arouse curiosity. When they sighted an appetizing creature, they launched themselves in pursuit and ate well afterward.
The one difficulty was carrying their deflated pack, which now contained their cooking pot and the recovered sword.
Kin wondered aloud, How is it we can keep our clothes, swords, and other small items on us when we shift fox? I know that clan theory suggests we also shift any objects we consider part of ourselves, but that doesn’t explain where the items go!
That’s a Yuki question, isn’t it? Akakiba said. Do you, the Yuki you, remember when you asked me how mind-talk works?
You said it’s a natural ability.
Shifting is the same. We don’t know how it works, only that it does. It’s part of our nature.
There has to be a way to learn more about it. Maybe Grandmother Naoko would know.
Grandmother Naoko was the clan’s eldest member, so she must have more wisdom than anybody else. He’d have to ask her thoughts.
Perhaps. Now mind that sword, Akakiba said. Do you feel anything?
Kin was carrying the sword because he’d banned Akakiba from touching it. He considered the question long enough to be certain he was right when he said, It’s not pulling at all. I think it’s dormant when it’s in the scabbard.
It was a battered and scratched scabbard, so old it must be the sword’s original one.
When they arrived at Chiyako’s house, Kin was winded from swift travel but in good humor. The same could not be said of his companion, who’d been strangely quiet and subdued the entire way. What had happened to Yuki and Sanae, this odd melding, maybe Akakiba didn’t like it. Or perhaps it was because he still felt unwell? The physical wound seemed to have healed, but the non-physical one probably hadn’t. He simply couldn’t afford to ever take another wound from a sword like this, not ever.
Upon their entrance, Drac rose from beside the fire and whined, “Yuki, what happened? I can’t feel you.”
“He thought you were dead,” Ari said with pursed lips. “He wouldn’t eat and he was very sad and he kept saying he should have gone with you and protected you.” Pausing for a breath, she continued, “And you take off your boots and show your feet! I know about ghosts and you better not be one!”
