The Heart of a Fox

by T. Isilwath

  She knew she didn’t have months. While she had managed to stretch her insulin three days beyond her initial seven day estimate, it was September 30th and she’d used the last of it that morning, then removed the insulin pump. It felt so strange not to have the device attached to her body. She’d never been without it for more than a couple of hours since the day she’d been outfitted for one, and the absence of the slight weight against her abdomen seemed alien to her.

  But for all the anxiety and foreboding that had preceded it, the actual removal of the pump seemed rather anti-climactic. She’d known it was coming, and had been counting down the days once she had emptied the last of the fifth vial into the pump’s reservoir, so it came as no surprise when she’d administered the final ten units. There had been no clouds blocking the sun or ominous booming voices heralding her demise; just a simple warning beep that the pump gave off to indicate that it was empty. Akihiro hadn’t been there when it had beeped its last, and she had quietly pulled the infusion set out of her flesh without tears or fanfare, although her hand did tremble a little.

  The other item that had never left her person for over two years was her diamond engagement ring, and she decided that it was time to do something about that as well. Knowing what she knew, and acknowledging the choices she had made, she felt that she could no longer wear the ring in good faith, yet she couldn’t bring herself to completely take it off. With a heavy heart, and a silent prayer that she was doing the right thing, she slipped the small diamond solitaire from her ring finger and slid it onto the third finger of her right hand.

  She felt it was the best thing for her to do. She hadn’t given up hope completely, but she knew that the chances of her being rescued were very slim. She still wore the GPS receiver that the Gate operator had given her, but she had no illusions of ever hearing it beep of its own accord. She tested it every now and then just to see if the battery was still good, and that was the only time it made any noise at all. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but she was coming to grips with how things were going to be and trying to make peace with her circumstances.

  She found that if she focused on Akihiro, and tried to concentrate on preparing him for the inevitable, it helped her to deal with her death a little more bravely.

  It was her concern for Akihiro, in fact, that had her out in the heat in the first place. She was headed into the hills that bordered the village, and up to two rice fields terraced into a hillside where she knew her fox was cutting rice.

  Akihiro had been working almost nonstop for the past five days as the rice harvest went into full swing, and she hadn’t seen much of him between the hours of dawn and dusk. All of the other rice fields had been harvested, and the villagers were concentrating on threshing the new rice from the stalks, but the last two fields were up high and difficult to reach so Akihiro was harvesting them alone.

  She carried a light lunch with her and some water because she knew he would be hungry, thirsty, and hot from all the work he was doing. Many of the village youngsters were charged with bringing water and food to the workers in the fields, and people were encouraged to take short rests throughout the hottest part of the day, but no one thought that their half-demon associate required or warranted the same courtesy. While he might be half-kitsune, he still suffered from the heat, and needed to rest and drink, so she’d taken to bringing him lunch and water as a way of forcing him to take a breather. She knew he would never refuse a meal from her, and he’d always stop long enough to eat and sit with her.

  The villagers thought she was crazy, and she did nothing to dissuade them from their beliefs. Actually, she even actively encouraged them to think that she was somewhat mentally deranged, because it saved her the hassle of trying to justify and defend her relationship with Akihiro. As long as they thought that Akihiro had found himself a weak-minded woman, no one questioned their bond, and she fostered their misconceptions by wearing her jeans and leathers, and speaking to Akihiro only in English or Tsalagi when others were around.

  She also refused to conform to the cultural belief that she should be silent and submissive towards men. She would bow when it was required of her, but she would not fawn or simper, and she walked beside Akihiro instead of behind him. She hunted and gutted her own kills, and performed many tasks normally associated with men. There were even some villagers who thought she was a man who disguised herself as a woman, and she found that highly amusing.

  Most of them, however, simply thought she was incorrigible and insane, and she was happy to let them continue believing that way. As long as Akihiro treated her as an equal, she couldn’t care less about what the villagers thought.

  Ichiro and his family knew the truth about her, of course, but it wasn’t in their best interests to go around correcting anyone. Akihiro’s attitude and behavior had drastically changed, and he had them quite concerned. Both Ichiro and Suzuka handled him in much the way someone would handle a dangerous animal, which, she supposed, was how they saw him. Only Kaemon recognized Akihiro’s actions as him coming of age and of his newfound happiness.

  And he was happy. Akihiro was very happy, and his joy seemed to baffle the villagers. They didn’t know what to do when he smiled, and the first time he’d laughed in public two women dropped what they were carrying because they didn’t recognize the sound. One poor woman shattered her water jug, and Joanna felt guilty because it was her joke that had made him laugh. Even now, a snicker could make them look wide-eyed in surprise, and also with a touch of fear because laughter wasn’t the only thing that was different about him.

  She’d gotten the distinct impression that the villagers were used to Akihiro’s submission, and his new habit of looking people directly in the eye un-settled them. He still used the proper terms of respect and bowed appropriately, but he had lost the posture of subservience. Now when he was among the villagers, he stood tall and carried himself with confidence. He walked beside her and his position at her shoulder silently advertised his role as her companion and protector; and any threats, whether real or perceived, were dealt with immediately.

  She still remembered the first time she had ventured off the shrine grounds and Akihiro had accompanied her into the village. Aside from the fact that he was walking down the main thoroughfare in broad daylight without so much as a flinch or hesitation, someone had been stupid enough to make a derogatory comment about her within earshot. Akihiro had stopped in his tracks and slowly turned his head to look at the young man, and while his face had been perfectly blank, he’d blatantly cleaned the dirt from underneath his sharp claws with deliberate slowness. The idiot had shuddered and hurried away. Akihiro had merely shrugged, then turned to her and grinned. She’d smiled back and hooked her arm in his as they continued on their leisurely stroll.

  Akihiro was trying to assuage the situation. His happiness made him doubly helpful, and his newly growing confidence allowed him to jump in and offer a hand whenever he thought it was needed. Projects that had been relegated as low-priority were now getting done, and a few people were beginning to warm up to their half-demon neighbor. Hiroshi himself had told her that the rice harvest was two days ahead of schedule because of Akihiro’s enthusiasm. She didn’t know if his overzealousness was due to him trying to prove that he was an excellent provider or because he was working off the excess energy from all the rest he was getting.

  s presence.

  One thing that bothered her, however, was that the villagers seemed to look to her to somehow control Akihiro, as if he were a pet that could be commanded at will. Anytime there was something new to be done, someone came to her to ask if Akihiro could do it, and no amount of her telling them to ask him themselves seemed to make a difference. It was like they hadn’t really grasped the idea that he was an intelligent, sentient being who was perfectly capable of making decisions for himself. Secretly she wondered if they already knew that, or worse, if they’d known it for years, but merely pretended not to because it meant that they didn’t have to acknowledge him
as a thinking, feeling being no different from themselves. Some of the things Kaemon had said to her led to her believe that the latter was the case, and that didn’t sit well with her.

  ‘You people are just really upset that you might not have your simpering, little slave to boss around anymore,’ she thought darkly as she pulled the walking staff out of the ground and continued on her way.

  “Johranna-sama! Johranna-sama!” a host of high-pitched voices called, and she turned to see a handful of children running towards her.

  Of course because she was the stranger, and a new and exotic stranger as well, she was automatically the center of attention for all of the children. A number of the adults also showed an interest in her, but the children could much more easily get away with being nosy and rude simply because they were children. Even now as they converged upon her when she was hot and tired, all she had for them was a welcoming smile.

  “Hanae, Saka, Nami, Mara, Chen,” she greeted, calling each child by name. “Look you all so good today.”

  The children laughed at her broken Japanese and she smiled again, this time a little slyly. She never let anyone but Ichiro and his family know that she was fluent. It was one more way she fostered the illusion that she was “different.” She was well aware how the use of language could foster an image or attitude because she had seen many full-blooded Elders in Elisi’s community speak only Tsalagi when she knew they could speak English.

  “Are you coming to the festival tomorrow? Will you play your gitaa?” one little girl, Hanae, asked.

  The local celebration was held on the first full moon at the end of the rice harvest. Of course it didn’t matter that Akihiro was still working in the upper fields; all of their work was done so it was time to party.

  “Know not I, but yes I think I come. I bring Iris. Maybe I play. If want play for you, come to me and I play. Find fox. I with him,” she answered.

  The oldest girl, Mara, a bossy age of ten, screwed up her nose and shook her head. “Hanyou never comes to the festivals.”

  “Why not? Fox work. Fox work hard. Today fox brings more rice when others rest,” she countered.

  She never called him Hanyou, but she had learned that there was some truth in Suzuka’s warning that calling him Akihiro would do him no favors. So instead she called him “fox” or “my friend.” It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than calling him by a term she considered an insult.

  Mara huffed and replied, “He just doesn’t come. My father says he shouldn’t even be allowed to walk in the village.” She cocked her head and swallowed the anger that rose in her throat. The child was only parroting back what she had been taught so there was no point in being angry with her. To a child, parents were gods and their word was law. If Mara’s father had said those things, then of course the child would believe them. But still, it didn’t keep her from tossing out a little barb as food for thought.

  “It rude to take fox’s work and not say thank you.” Mara remained defiant, but the other children seemed to get the idea.

  “He’s just a hanyou. He doesn’t have feelings so why should we care?” She clenched her fist to keep from slapping the smug look off the girl’s face, but it was obvious that she was pissed because two of the children took a step back. The rod was rarely spared in this era and many of the children were very used to beatings. Being able to recognize when an adult was angry went a long way towards avoiding punishment.

  “Fox saved my life. Fox bring village food. Fox bring rice from hill.

  Maybe fox stop and you bring rice from hill, no?”

  “We don’t need that rice. My father says we have plenty of rice without those two fields,” Mara countered.

  “Rice is money. Village rich. More rice for everyone. Village share money, all grow strong.”

  The one thing she had noticed about the village was that the sense of a community whole wasn’t as strong as she’d expected it to be. Usually small, agrarian communities were very tight knit, and to some extent this one was as well, but the deep-rooted belief that the strength of the individual lay in the strength of his people didn’t seem to exist. She supposed that years of civil war among the leaders where the average peasant often fared worse no matter who won, made them disillusioned to the thought of community solidarity.

  There were no Circles here. No councils or places where the peasants could express their opinions. Here they were little more than indentured servants, one step above slaves, and their lives were at the whim of the local lords. The village was lucky in that Hiroshi was a good man, and the influence of Ichiro’s shrine tempered most hot-blooded veins. Genkichirou’s legacy had been one of peace and harmony, and his son did his best to perpetuate his father’s beliefs.

  She looked up toward the hills where she was headed, shielding her eyes from the bright sun with her hand, and frowned when her eyesight went hazy and she saw small spots floating in front of her. There was definitely something wrong with her vision, and she feared she had the early stages of diabetic retinopathy. She knew she should be wearing a hat to reduce the strain on her eyes, but to go without one was just another aspect of the part she played.

  “I go now,” she said, patting the lunch sack she carried. “Fox work hard.

  Hungry. I bring fox food.” The children gave her room to pass, and she smiled at them, even Mara. “I see you tomorrow.”

  “Bye, Johranna-sama!” they said, and she chuckled at their inability to say her name without adding the “r.” ‘Just like Aki when we first met.’

  Her soft smile widened in fondness and anticipation of seeing her fox, and she waved to the children as she continued on her way. It took her another half hour to reach the hills where the rice fields were located and to climb the narrow, steep trail up to the terraces Akihiro had carved out himself. A swift running stream made its way down the hillside, and this was the stream that was used to flood the rice paddies during the growing season. A little dam had been created to divert the water into the fields, but the barrier had been opened a couple of weeks ago in order to allow the paddies to dry out before harvest. The trail was located on the opposite side of the fields from the stream to prevent the rains from washing the track away.

  The paddies weren’t overly large, but she knew that hand harvesting was labor-intensive and back-breaking work. And unlike the villagers, Akihiro didn’t use a knife or a scythe to cut the stalks, but sliced them with his sharp claws instead. He then took the cut rice ears and arranged them in sheaves to be carried down to the village for drying. There the ears of rice would dry until the rice was just right, then the mature rice would be threshed from the sheaves either by villagers or by oxen depending upon when it was ready.

  When she got to the top of the trail, she saw Akihiro working alone on the lower of the two fields. From the size of the rice stalk piles, it looked like he had already finished cutting the rice in the other field and was now working on the last one. She knew she was downwind from him, and that he hadn’t realized she was there yet, so she took the opportunity to sit and watch him. He’d taken off his kosode and was now dressed only in his loose pants, his bare chest exposed to the hot sun. She could tell that he was sweating because the ridge of fox fur running down his back was flat with wetness. He’d also tied back his long hair and it, too, was damp with sweat.

  She watched him for a long time, marveling at his stamina and strength as he worked with single-minded determination through the field. He moved fluidly, his limbs flowing in a seamless pattern of slice and grab, slice and grab, and his face was set with concentration for what he was doing, although every now and then he would pause to wipe the sweat from his brow. She knew how he felt, she was baking just sitting there, and she couldn’t imagine actually working in the heat. Not that he’d actually let her. She had tried to help him earlier in the harvest, but he had adamantly refused and, unfortunately, Kaemon and Ichiro had backed him up. Victims of oni-gumo bites were supposed to rest for several weeks lest they overtax their weake
ned bodies. She knew Akihiro didn’t even like her walking out to bring him his lunch, but she’d go crazy without something to do.

  She felt the wind shift and saw him stop in mid-slice as his head came up.

  She watched him sniff the air for a few seconds, his ears swiveling, then his head turned unerringly in her direction until he finally saw her. He was too far away for her to clearly see his face, but she saw the flash of his white teeth so she knew he was smiling. He finished cutting the handful of stalks that he was working on, then headed to the stream where he rinsed the sweat from his arms and bare chest and splashed his face. When he straightened up and stretched, she couldn’t help but notice his lean and supple body, and she smiled appreciatively. He might be a little on the thin side right now, but once he grew into himself, she had no doubts that he would be magnificent.

  She saw him douse his head with water and shake off the excess, then he turned her way. A moment later he was settling on his haunches next to her and nuzzling his nose into the side of her throat affectionately. He always made small, guttural noises when he did this, and she recognized them as little croons and groans that probably had meaning to other kitsunes.

  “You’re a disobedient vixen,” he chided, but his voice wasn’t serious. “I told you not to come out in this heat. There’s no dealing with you.” She snorted and gave him a sardonic smile.

  “I brought your lunch, and water, because you’re a stubborn fox who won’t stop to rest,” she countered.

  “I’m a hanyou. I don’t need to rest.”

  She fixed him with a look that spoke volumes on her opinion on that subject, and he had the good sense to lower his ears. She turned her head away in acceptance of his silent apology and opened the lunch sack.