Foxfire (Nine Tails, 1)

by Yuki Edo

  After eating a piece of toast and an orange slice, Hiro stripped and got in the shower. He definitely felt paranoid being in a new place, but so far he’d been left alone. His mind kept flashing back to the giant fox he’d seen, and it was hard to remember that the creature and the man living here were one and the same. But he also remembered something Masaki had said—his brother did love him and would never have left him if he’d thought something was off. Hiro could work in his room until he felt braver and then, maybe, he would venture out and explore. His erection had flagged, finally, but he still wanted release. An aching need sat low in his belly, and it would distract him all day if he didn’t do something about it. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, a sigh escaping his lips. His emotions still hadn’t quieted, confusion bothering him the most. He needed release, a few moments of pleasure to take him away from the strange situation he found himself in.

  * * * *

  Masaki felt a change in the air. Desire flooded him, and he turned his eyes to the closest mirror. Hiro appeared before him, moaning as he leaned against the shower wall and pumped his cock. Masaki let his eyes drink in the sight, but then he turned away. He’d seen Hiro naked before—had spied on him many times—but with the man here in the house, Masaki could do so much more than watch. He closed his eyes, concentrating, and pure lust and need rushed through him. Masaki sensed so many emotions mixed in with the need that filled him. Hiro’s sexual and mental frustration came through, as did his anxiety and confusion. Another surge of lust, and then release washed over him. Masaki didn’t actually come, but it felt as if he had. He turned back to look at Hiro, his own emotions rushing forth as he watched Hiro trembling. Hiro pumped the last drop of cum from his cock, wiping his cheek with his other hand. The water from the shower made it hard to see, but his eyes did shimmer a bit. Masaki had never seen Hiro upset or crying, and he wondered if the stress of the situation had caused that reaction.

  Hiro finished cleaning up and then stepped out of the shower, drying off and dressing quickly. He stared at his reflection a long time, and then dried his hair and combed it. Masaki sat down, letting the image in the mirror fade. At least Hiro no longer seemed afraid. Would he come out of his room, or would he stay in there all day? Masaki had promised no one would bother him, and he wouldn’t break his word. Inari had given him a task that morning, and he rose to leave the house and get it over with. If Hiro ventured out to explore later, Masaki wanted to be there to talk to him. He’d given his word he’d let Hiro go in thirty days, so he had to make the most of each opportunity to convince the handsome artist to stay with him forever. He couldn’t come right out and blatantly say that he knew Hiro was gay, and offering him material things seemed condescending. No, for once in his life, Masaki would have to work for something instead of having it handed to him simply because he willed it. He smiled as he descended the stairs, thinking how worthy Hiro was of any work he would have to do to win him.

  * * * *

  Hiro sat at the top of a staircase that seemed to lead to the back of the house. An elegant crystal chandelier hung over the open space at the bottom, and Hiro took up his pad to sketch it. He’d spent the morning working on a commission, which was the last of his present projects. He’d have it done within a few days, but he’d grown tired of looking at it and wanted a break. The house remained silent as he sat there. He’d placed the necklace Masaki had given him around his neck, but he wondered if the kitsune would stay away until summoned.

  The ringing of his phone startled Hiro, and he reached into his pocket. Akira. He answered right away. “Why did you just walk away? I was scared out of my mind, and you fucking left!”

  “Well, that’s a friendly way to answer your phone.” Akira sighed. “Did Masaki harm you?”

  Hiro bit his lip before answering. “No.”

  “Did anything else scare you?”

  “No, but it’s weird here. Silent and empty. But there’re servants. Yokai. No idea what kind, but he said I’m safe.” He let his breath out in a huff. “I know you told me the truth, and I apologize for not believing, but you didn’t prepare me for this. Not really.”

  “Are you shocked? That it’s all real, I mean.”

  “I guess.” Hiro heard a door open in the distance. “I heard something. I’ll call you later.”

  “All right. Just wanted to check in with you.”

  “Thanks.” He closed his pad and shoved his pencil in his pocket. In a lower voice, he said, “Still kinda mad at you.”

  “I know, but try to be … happy. Okay?”

  Hiro hesitated. Happy? About being stuck here? “Okay, sure. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Hiro stood, not sure what to do. He wanted to go back to his room, where he’d feel more secure, but he also wanted some human contact. Human? He laughed to himself. Not quite. He walked back toward the large staircase they’d come up the night before. Someone had slid a map of the house under his door while he showered. Being in an enchanted mansion wasn’t bad, if slightly creepy. Masaki strode across the foyer below him, looking up just as Hiro came to a stop.

  “Hello, Hiro.” He moved to the stairs and mounted them.

  “Hi.” Hiro held his sketchpad close and waited.

  “I had errands to run, but I trust you were taken care of.” Masaki stopped only inches away and looked down at him.

  Hiro nodded. “I’m fine.”

  Masaki’s gaze lowered a moment. “You’ve been sketching?”

  Hiro nodded again. “Yeah, just clearing my head. I’ll be done with my last job soon. Akira said you could have it delivered to the client.”

  “Yes, of course. Just let me know.”

  Silence fell. Hiro felt far more awkward today, perhaps because his fear had evaporated. Or maybe because I can’t stop thinking this might be my only chance to touch another man.

  Masaki cleared his throat. “Will you have dinner with me tonight? I want you to feel welcome. At home.”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. Last night, I was overwhelmed.”

  “You feel better today?”

  Hiro nodded once more, feeling like a bobble head doll. “Yeah.”

  “I was glad to see you exploring, given the circumstances.”

  “I thought about what you said. Akira wouldn’t have agreed to anything that could harm me.” He clutched his pad tighter. “What do you want?”

  Masaki’s gaze heated a bit, his tongue coming out to lick his lower lip. “What do I want?”

  Hiro realized how his question had sounded. “My work, I meant.” His face flamed, but he tried to keep going. “A painting, sketches, a triptych maybe? I saw a few blank folding screens in one of the hallways. I could work with those or paint scenes on them.”

  “Anything you desire, though I would like for you to sketch me before you leave.”

  Yet again, Hiro didn’t understand. “You … you like my work that much? You don’t care what it is?”

  Masaki came forward and took him by the chin. “Yes. I wish to watch you work, if I’m allowed. I told you I wanted you with me. Just having your work isn’t the same.”

  Was Masaki going to kiss him? Akira hadn’t mentioned the man—fox, whatever—being gay, but he obviously was. Or perhaps gender didn’t matter to such a creature.

  “Sure. I don’t mind.” Hiro didn’t dare move, his anticipation building as he felt something he didn’t understand passing between them.

  Masaki backed away and let his hand drop. “You’re very talented. It’s good you’re humble, but I truly love your style. Perhaps in the garden, after dinner? Everything is beautiful under the moonlight with the colored lanterns lit.”

  “It’s a Japanese garden?”

  “Part of it is. Other parts are different. There are roses and some other plants I brought here. Everything here is magical, and I want you to enjoy it while you’re here. There’s even a waterfall. We’ll walk there later.”

  “Okay.”

  Masaki bowed slightly and then tu
rned and strode off. Hiro watched him go, feeling relieved yet lonely. He didn’t want to spend the next few hours alone, but he did need time to think. Had Masaki wanted to kiss him? Would he have liked that? What would it feel like? And why, though their lips hadn’t touched, had he felt such a strong connection, as if the man had actually kissed him?

  * * * *

  Masaki walked out of his bedroom and nearly collided with a tall, slender woman. He apologized and bowed to Inari, who wore a flowing red kimono covered in white cherry blossoms. Her eyes, now bright blue, studied him as she smiled. “Not seduced him yet?” Inari teased.

  “No, not yet.” Masaki had known the calm approval and well wishing would soon enough give way to teasing and perhaps even meddling. “But he only arrived yesterday.”

  “I can feel the tension in the house. He needs an enchanted evening, Masaki. I want to help.”

  Masaki couldn’t stop her, even if he wanted to, but he folded his hands in supplication. “I’ll arrange something next week. Please. Like I said this morning, I frightened him. He’s adjusting. And doing so pretty well, so I want to tread carefully.”

  “I know he’s adjusting, but he thought you were beautiful, despite being scared.” She smiled. “Though he likes you more in this form. Much more.”

  Masaki wondered if Inari would tell him more. She might only be here to tease him, his relationship with Hiro her newest distraction. “What else did he think?”

  She examined her nails, which were long and red. “Hmmm. Such a jumble in his head.”

  Masaki smiled politely. “Then let me go to him so I can start wooing him. You approve of him, so you must want me to get on with it.”

  Inari glanced up. “Take him to the grove over the bridge. He won’t be able to resist the feeling of magic there.”

  His smile fading, Masaki said, “I don’t want his body without his heart, without his mind and soul.”

  “You can win those later. That boy’s ready to explode. Twenty-three and a virgin!”

  Masaki had expected as much, but actually knowing made him a little nervous. “All the more reason not to take him to the grove. It should be special. I want him to feel something for me besides desire or curiosity.”

  Inari turned her head, as if she heard something. Smiling, she said, “Very well. But I expect that invitation soon.”

  “Yes, my lady, of course.” He bowed and then watched her walk away before turning to head downstairs. Knew she wouldn’t be able to stay away. He briefly wondered if Inari would come as a man or a woman when the time came to meet Hiro. Masaki hoped for the female incarnation, not wishing to see his kami flirting with Hiro. Not wishing to see any other man anywhere near Hiro. None of his brothers had visited for quite some time, so it wouldn’t be unusual for one of them to show up soon. Though he’d never voiced the idea to any of them, Masaki believed the curse that had brought them to life had given them all a preference for male company. However, he knew several of his brothers would bristle at the suggestion. He shrugged as he moved to the dining room, and he was disappointed to find it empty. A glance to one of the mirrors on the wall revealed Hiro leaving his room, so Masaki relaxed. At least he wouldn’t be stood up.

  Masaki looked at the table, frowning. He waved his hand, banishing the long table with a place set at each end and replacing it with a small circular table. With another wave, he removed the centerpiece as well so nothing would be between them. He felt Hiro enter the room and turned to greet him.

  “How was your afternoon?” Masaki asked.

  “Good. I sketched, did some reading.” He looked around the room, and his gaze eventually settled on the table. “I thought there was a bigger table in here earlier.”

  “There was. I thought it would be hard to talk.” He gestured toward the table. “Come sit down.”

  Hiro did so, folding his hands in his lap. “What do you do all day?”

  Besides watching you? Masaki sat and rested his hands on the arms of the chair, linking his fingers over his abdomen. “Whatever Inari requires. Sometimes, nothing. I find ways to amuse myself.”

  Hiro glanced around the room, and then he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He went still and stared over Masaki’s shoulder. The house spirits had entered the room to bring in their meal, and Masaki realized Hiro would see nothing but floating dishes.

  “Would you feel better if you could see them?” Masaki asked. “You’re safe, I promise.”

  Hiro shrugged, but then he nodded. “Sure.”

  Masaki blinked, and the yokai appeared. Though their bodies still appeared as a fine mist, they wore blue kimonos and white kitsune masks. Masaki glanced at Hiro, who still looked stunned. Bowls of soup were placed before them along with a dish of fried wheat noodles.

  “Tea or sake?” Masaki asked, hoping to distract Hiro.

  “Sake, I think.” He smiled, as if trying to be polite despite his discomfort.

  Masaki poured for both of them, but Hiro didn’t relax until they were alone again. “Is there anything you’d like to ask?”

  “Are they ghosts?” Hiro asked right away.

  “The yokai? No. They’re servants given to me by Inari. I am one of Inari’s personal messengers—along with my eight brothers.”

  “Eight?”

  “Yes.” Masaki sprinkled a few noodles into his soup but waited for Hiro to take up his spoon.

  Hiro stirred his soup and then began eating. Masaki ate as well, waiting. Before long, Hiro asked, “Who’s the oldest?”

  “We’re all the same age.”

  Hiro’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. “Nine? At once?” He lowered his spoon. “You must have been born in fox form. No human woman could hold nine babies.”

  Masaki decided to go ahead and reveal his history. Lying to Hiro made no sense, as Masaki wanted him to stay forever. “We have no mother. We weren’t born.”

  Instead of frightening Hiro, this news seemed to intrigue him. “Where’d you come from?”

  “We have a father. In a way. He was Inari’s favorite messenger, but now he is so out of favor we aren’t even allowed to say his name. A great family craved Inari’s favor, and they had a daughter. A very beautiful and innocent daughter. They offered her as a servant in one of Inari’s temples, and Inari gave them many blessings in return. Inari loved the girl as if she’d given birth to her. They were constant companions, Inari showing her favor by taking the girl with her almost everywhere. Our father tried to seduce the girl, who believed she would be punished if she didn’t let the favorite messenger of her kami bed her.” Masaki cleared his throat. “He was … neither gentle nor kind. It was rape, not seduction, and Inari found the girl bruised and bleeding, crying in the temple and blaming herself for the wicked thing that had been done to her.”

  Masaki looked to Hiro, wondering if he was going too far because he felt sadness from the young man, but Hiro nodded for him to go on, so he continued. “Our father was old yet not wise. Selfishness ruled him, causing him to so abuse his kami’s favor and love. As punishment, Inari stripped him of everything, even cutting off all nine of his tails. She said he was not worthy of them, because a fox with nine tails should be wise and compassionate. The tails fell to the temple floor and then slithered to the shadows. Our father, though I don’t care to think of him as such, was then banished. He still lives, but he keeps to the dark places, not daring to show himself to any powerful being. Inari’s fury was great, but after a time, we emerged. Even Inari was surprised to find nine little fox pups in her temple.”

  “It just happened? Without Inari willing it?” Hiro asked, curiosity pushing through the sadness that had filled him when Masaki had recounted his father’s act. He’d finished his soup, so Masaki had the next course brought out, glad he’d found a way to spark Hiro’s interest.

  “Yes. At times, great emotion can make magic manifest. She’d loved our father, which made her anger that much greater. She made us her new servants, caring for us herself. Loving us even
, letting us fill the void in her heart.” He decided against telling Hiro that obtaining free will was possible one day. It seemed irrelevant, now that he had Inari’s blessing to take a true mate.

  “What happened to the girl?” Hiro asked, pushing his food around with his chopsticks. “Did Inari help her?”

  Masaki took his up, choosing a piece of fried tofu. “Inari is also the kami of fertility. This gave her the power to … change things. She erased the violent act from the young girl’s mind and body. Then she gave the girl to another man, a good and loving man, as his bride, saying it was a reward for both of them. They lived happily and had many children.”

  “That’s good.” Hiro smiled and ate, but soon he frowned. “Sorry to be so nosy. It ended happily, but it’s a sad story.”

  “I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t want you to know.” Masaki ate as well to reassure Hiro the question hadn’t offended him. “I want us to get to know each other.”

  Hiro watched him eat a moment and asked, “So kitsune do like fried tofu? I read that online.”

  Masaki laughed. “Yes, we love it.”

  Hiro seemed to be eating with more gusto now as he studied the room. “It’s fascinating, now I’m getting used to it.”

  “Do you feel safe?”

  Hiro nodded, but he bit his lip, as if thinking. “Yeah. Bit nervous though.”

  “About me? The yokai?”

  Hiro studied him, his emotions fluctuating. The young man across from him experienced curiosity, apprehension, arousal, and embarrassment all at once. “Everything. The supernatural parts.” He drank his sake thoughtfully. “Inari sounds kind. But I still,” he shrugged, “I don’t know. Mythology is such a mess at times. Worries me now I know it’s all real.”

  “Inari is compassionate and loving, but yes, there’s a touch of darkness in every kami. I won’t lie to you about that.” He reached out and took Hiro’s hand when the young man set his cup aside. “But you’re safe. Keep my medallion with you, and you can summon me at any time. It will take me but a moment, a single thought, to reach you.”