A Fox's Maid

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A Fox's Maid Page 18

by Brandon Varnell


  “… There…”

  Eric followed Justin’s pointing finger and nearly did a double take when he saw the large mosh pit of people fighting. Alex and Andrew were duking it out in the middle, and it was clear to him that they were fighting the hardest. Alex had a black eye and Andrew a busted lip.

  “When did that happen? How did that happen? And why the hell am I just now noticing it?”

  “… Snowball…”

  “Ah.”

  Eric understood Justin’s one word answer. Alex and Andrew must’ve started throwing punches at one another, hitting several other people in the process. This had a snowball effect, turning the entire fiasco into an all-out brawl between complete strangers.

  While Eric and Justin watched more people become embroiled in the epic battle taking place several yards away, Kevin and Juan started the next challenge.

  Kevin’s hands came up with synchronized precision as six spheres were launched into the air. His fingers hit the trigger at a rapid fire-rate, quickly shooting down all six spheres barely two seconds after the game started.

  Looking over at Juan and seeing the gaping eyes on the teen’s equally shocked face, Kevin grinned. “Something wrong, Juan? You’re looking a little pale.”

  Juan glowered at him. “There is nothing wrong.”

  “Good, because the next simulation is starting.”

  “What?!”

  Juan had no time to do anything as Kevin fired off round after round, hitting the targets popping on screen with pinpoint precision. Kevin held the plastic guns in front of him, his arms crisscrossing, the weapons tilted so the butts were connected, dual-wielding like a boss.

  Juan could only use one gun, putting him at a severe disadvantage. He tried using two, but soon realized it made aiming more difficult.

  A little known fact about Kevin: he was ambidextrous. For as long as he could remember, he’d been using both hands equally in everything he did, regardless of what it was. It wasn’t an acquired talent, but an inherent skill he’d been born with. Combine this ability with his impressive hand-to-eye coordination, gained through years of playing arcade-style shooting games, and Kevin had become practically unbeatable when it came to simulations like this.

  Juan didn’t stand a chance in hell of winning.

  By the time the game finished, Kevin had beaten Juan handily. It might’ve been more accurate to say that Juan had been crushed beyond all reasonable comprehension, which explained why the pompadour boy could do nothing but gape at the screen, his jaw practically hanging to the floor as his eyes bulged like two big, round hockey pucks. The expression looked particularly ridiculous when combined with his matador outfit and stupid-looking hair.

  Kevin had a hard time keeping a straight face.

  “Looks like I win,” Kevin declared with an air of smug satisfaction. He wasn’t normally one to rub his victory in someone’s face―unless their name happened to be Kasey Chase―but in this instance, he had no issue doing just that.

  Juan shook himself out of his stupor and shakily glared at Kevin. “We may be tied now, but there is still one more challenge left, and I shall not allow acampesino like you to defeat me.”

  “Ha!” Kevin barked a laugh. “You can think that way if you want, but we both know who’s going home the victor this day.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “So, how do we decide who gets to choose the next challenge?”

  Juan clenched his left hand into a fist, placing it into his opened right palm. He then brought both toward his torso like he planned to unleash a Kamehameha Wave. “There is only one way to decide something like this, si?”

  “I see, so that’s how it is.” Kevin copied Juan’s actions, hiding his hands from view. “I have to warn you, I’m an expert at this game. There’s no way you can beat me.”

  “We shall see.”

  Kevin and Juan stared at each other, eyes narrowed in fierce competition. The air became thick with tension―and dust, but mostly tension. It also became surprisingly loud, but Kevin and Juan hardly noticed the shouts and yelps of pain. They were too busy staring each other down like two samurai in an old-fashioned shogun stand-off.

  A tumbleweed rolled between them. They ignored that, too. This was it. The final showdown. The battle that would decide it all. Only one of them would walk away the victor.

  They took a deep breath—

  “Jen! Ken! Pon!”

  —And exploded into action.

  … Silence. Kevin and Juan looked down at their hands, both of which were scissors. They looked back at each other and their eyes narrowed further. They drew their hands back, and the process started over.

  “Jen! Ken! Pon!”

  “Jen! Ken! Pon!”

  “Why are we saying this in Japanese?”

  “Jen! Ken! Pon!”

  “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

  “Jen! Ken! Pon!”

  “I guess not.”

  “Jen! Ken! Pon!”

  Thus continued the very intense game of rock-paper-scissors. Over and over they tried beating the other, only to come up with matching hands. It seemed neither was able to win.

  This game would have continued for some time were it not for a series of extenuating and unprecedented factors that happened several seconds later.

  Like Kevin and Juan being pulled into the vicious battle of Shōnen proportions that had engulfed the entire arcade. It started when someone was shoved into Juan. The boy fell on his back, which caused Kevin to start laughing.

  Had he been paying attention, he might not have been caught off guard when someone’s fist slammed into his face. Despite his surprise and the stinging pain in his cheek, Kevin had no issue retaliating like any normal teenager would. He hit the boy back, and thus, he and Juan became embroiled in the ever-expanding battle.

  A large number of objects flew through the air: utensils, chairs, tables, a kitchen sink. As the battle continued, more and more of the surrounding property suffered from massive battle damage, until almost every arcade game, every stand and every booth became nothing more than smoking slag piles of plastic, metal and circuitry. Kevin would have wondered where the mall’s security forces were, but someone punched him in the face and all thoughts on security evaporated.

  Needless to say, the manager wouldn’t be happy when he came back from his vacation to the Bahamas, and discovered that his beloved arcade had been demolished.

  ***

  Kevin, Eric, Justin, Juan, the twins and everyone else who’d been present during the massive brawl―which everybody who’d been at the arcade―found themselves standing outside the now-destroyed arcade.

  While the outside looked fine, the inside was a different story. Through the window, Kevin could see the massive amounts of destruction the impromptu war had caused. Arcade games were tipped over and sparking, their cables and circuits spilling out like innards. Chairs and tables lay in broken heaps. The bar looked like it had been put through a war zone. The floor had become pitted and scarred with the signs of battle. Everything was in ruins. Hanging on the automatic entrance was a large sign that read: “closed until further notice.”

  Eric managed to put everyone else’s thoughts into words.

  “Well, this sucks.”

  Several people nodded, Kevin included.

  “It seems we shall have to postpone our duel until further notice,” Juan conceded.

  “Whatever,” Kevin sighed. He felt tired, and old. A part of him worried about how he hardly even batted an eyelash at the sight of his favorite arcade being decimated. Another part just wanted to head home, go to sleep, and pretend this whole affair never happened.

  “As we can no longer have our duel, I shall take my leave. Farwell, mi amigos.”

  Kevin didn’t bother watching Juan leave. He merely continued staring at the arcade, his eyes soulless and devoid of life.

  “Kevin!”

  His head snapped up at the familiar voice. A small flicker of light entered his eyes as he turned his head.
<
br />   “Lilian.”

  He smiled as Lilian approached him, closely followed by his mom, Kotohime, Christine and Lindsay. A bizarre fluttering entered his chest, like butterflies flapping about. He did his best to ignore the feeling. Kevin really hoped he wasn’t getting sick or something.

  Cha-ching!

  Blinking, Kevin turned to the strange noise that sounded a lot like a cash register being opened. The noise had come from Eric, whose eyes had somehow transformed into large dollar signs. Kevin would have wondered how such a thing was possible, but had no desire to deal with the headache such thoughts would bring.

  Eric’s expression only lasted for a moment before he was off.

  “BOOBIES!”

  With great agility and speed, the young pervert darted toward the group of women, his hands stretched out and grasping as he imagined grabbing onto those large mountains of flesh like a baker kneading dough.

  “Come to papa, you delectable―guwog!”

  Less than a second later, Eric lay face down on the ground, blood pooling underneath him from where his nose had a close encounter of the concrete kind. He was clearly unconscious.

  Everyone stared at the boy lying on the ground, completely insensate, before looking at Christine, who had a large vein pulsing on her forehead like a giant tic mark. Her fist was still extended and her breathing heavy. Her arm shook with pent-up rage.

  Lindsay summed up everyone’s thoughts pretty well.

  “Whoa, remind me never to get on your bad side.”

  “Don’t worry,” Kevin reassured her, “so long as your name isn’t Eric, I think you’ll be fine.”

  “Good to know.” Lindsay seemed most reassured by Kevin’s words.

  ***

  Unbeknownst to everyone, the group of humans and yōkai were not alone. Situated on top of the mall, Professor Nabui lay on his stomach, using the scope of his personalized sniper rifle to spy on them.

  He had been tracking their movements and observing their behavioral patterns for quite a while now. Ever since he’d contacted his immediate superior, in fact. It was important to learn everything he could if he wanted this mission to succeed.

  Already he’d learned a number of useful pieces of information, like how that woman dressed in the kimono had very keen instincts. She could tell when her group was being watched. He’d already been forced to hide himself several times when she looked in his direction. Inagumi Takashi—Professor Nabui to his colleagues and students—didn’t know who she was, or even what she was, but he knew that, whenever he decided to enact his plan, it would have to be when she was not present.

  A battle against her could only end in defeat.

  The rest of the group seemed oblivious to his presence, which was fine with him. From what he could see, the only other yōkai was the girl dressed in gothic lolita garb. He didn’t know what she was, but had gathered through his spying that she had control over ice, or perhaps the weather. Either way, she wasn’t much of a threat.

  Other than her mean left hook, apparently.

  He watched the group leave. It would take a bit more time to put his plan into motion, a week or two at most. He would gather more information, wait for the boy’s mother to leave, and then he would strike.

  “Freeze! Don’t move!” a voice shouted behind him.

  Inagumi Takashi froze.

  “Stand up.”

  He stood up.

  “Now put your hands in the air and turn around slowly.”

  He did exactly as told, making a full 180-degree turn to face someone pointing a gun at him.

  A cop. Two cops, to be precise.

  “You’re under arrest for suspected terrorist activity, carrying illegal weaponry, and trespassing on private property. We’re gonna have to take you to the station.”

  Well, crap, this was not good. How was he going to get out of this situation?

  “Put your hands behind your head and get on the ground,” one of the cops ordered. “If you make any suspicious moves, I won’t hesitate to shoot.”

  As Inagumi Takashi did what was instructed of him, a single thought passed through his mind.

  I’m beginning to think I should have left my sniper rifle at home…

  Chapter 7

  A Wavering Heart

  Ms. Swift wore a large grin as she, Kotohime, Lilian and Kevin entered the apartment. She stretched her hands above her head and arched her back. Kevin winced upon hearing it crack several times.

  “He-heh, that was a lot of fun. I haven’t gone shopping like that in a really long time.” She looked at Lilian and her smile widened. “It helps that I had such a beautiful girl to play fashion model for me.”

  While Kevin somehow managed not to palm his face, Lilian put her hands on her cheeks and blushed a pretty shade of pink. “Ufufufu, thank you.”

  “Acting bashful doesn’t suit you,” Kevin mumbled, “and don’t laugh like that when you’re trying to appear demure.”

  “Ufufufu, don’t be like that, Kevin.”

  “Seriously, stop that.”

  Taking her eyes off the duo as they bantered, Kotohime looked at the clock.

  “Oh my, it has gotten rather late.” The clock read six pm; they had been at the mall for nearly seven hours. “I suppose I should start preparing dinner.”

  “You don’t need to worry about dinner, Kotohime,” Lilian told the older kitsune. “Kevin and I will take care of dinner.”

  “And there you go, offering my services without even asking if I want to make dinner,” Kevin said in mock irritation.

  Lilian peered at him with an adorable pout. “Are you saying you don’t want to help me prepare dinner?”

  Looking away, Kevin scratched his cheek with his right index finger. “I didn’t say that. I wouldn’t mind giving you a hand in the kitchen, even though you don’t really need my help.”

  “Maybe not, but you have to admit that it’s much more fun cooking with someone else than it is cooking alone.”

  “Well, maybe a little.”

  “Try a lot.”

  Kotohime took a moment to study the twin-tailed kitsune she had protected for nearly 60 years. After taking a moment to observe Lilian as if seeing her for the first time, she eventually gave a nod.

  “Very well, I will be interested in seeing what Lilian-sama and… the boy decide to cook.”

  “‘The boy’ she calls me,” Kevin mumbled. “I get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much.”

  “Did you say something?” Kotohime’s eyes sharpened like blades.

  “Not a thing.” Kevin dutifully did his best to ignore the eyes boring into his skull and turned to Lilian. “Come on.”

  He gestured for the girl to proceed him. Lilian beamed as she went into the kitchen, Kevin trailing after her. Despite trying not to, he couldn’t keep himself from admiring her small, shapely butt—and was it just him, or had Lilian added an extra sway to her hips?

  While Kevin tried to find some means to pry his eyes off Lilian’s rear end, Kotohime stared at him with narrowed eyes.

  “Hmm…”

  ***

  “So what are we making?” Kevin asked as he and Lilian stood in the kitchen.

  “We’re making kota riganati.”

  “Greek chicken?” Kevin tilted his head. “I’ve actually heard of that. It’s a really popular dish in Greece, right? I’m surprised we haven’t made it before.”

  “You know of it?”

  “Mmm. I had it that one time I went to Greece with my mom. I think I told you about that.”

  “Yeah,” Lilian nodded noncommittally, “you said that you don’t remember a lot of what happened back then because you were so young.”

  “That’s right. But, while I don’t remember a whole lot about that trip, there are a few things that I do remember. It’s a little strange, to be honest, some memories seem sharper than others, while other memories seem like one big blur.” Kevin pondered that for a moment, then shook his head. “Anyway, one of the things that I
do remember was mom and I having this amazing Greek chicken during our first night there.”

  Kevin pulled out some chicken from the fridge and tested its firmness, frowning. This chicken wasn’t fully thawed yet. Great.

  “So, I don’t know what ingredients we need to make Greek chicken.” Kevin turned around to Lilian, chicken in hand. “What do we… Lilian?”

  “Hmm?” Lilian snapped out of the fugue state she’d been in and looked at Kevin. “Yes?”

  Kevin studied her with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  His frown deepening, Kevin set the bag of partially thawed chicken in the microwave, and used the defrosting feature to finish thawing it. He then focused his attention back on the redhead.

  “I don’t know. You’re staring off into space like something is bothering you. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  Lilian looked surprised for a second, but then shook her head and offered him a reassuring smile.

  “I’m fine.” Kevin still didn’t look convinced, but Lilian didn’t give him a chance to ask her anything else. “Anyway, we need half a cup of olive oil, juice from four lemons, dried oregano, garlic powder, salt and pepper, seven tablespoons of butter, and about half a cup of water. Could you get those for me?”

  Kevin stared at Lilian a second longer, before nodding slowly. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kevin went to the cupboard to gather ingredients while Lilian preheated the oven to 350 degrees, then she grabbed the non-reactive baking pan and set it on the stove.

  With nothing to do but wait for the chicken to defrost, Lilian’s gaze strayed to Kevin. The blond sprinter had just finished gathering all of the ingredients and was now juicing a lemon.

  Watching him like this, seeing him cooking with her, made Lilian’s desire to have his love soar even higher.

  This… this was what she wanted; someone she could do things with, someone she could enjoy life with. She didn’t want to marry some stuffy old fox who thought her similar to a prize mule. She especially didn’t want to marry some brat who thought she was a toy that he could play with and discard when he was done. She wanted Kevin, a person she could do the things she enjoyed doing because he enjoyed doing them, too.

 

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