A Fox's Revenge
Page 1
AMERICAN KITSUNE: VOLUME 7
BRANDON VARNELL
Illustrated by Kirsten Moody
Edited by Crystal Holdefer
Contents
Title Page
Publishing Info
Words You Should Know
Chapter 1: The Last Day of School
Chapter 2: Assassins of the Shénshèng Clan
Chapter 3: Not Every Battle Ends in Victory or Defeat
Chapter 4: A Troubling Situation
Chapter 5: Leaving
Chapter 6: The Consequences of Feeling Helpless
Chapter 7: Meeting the Clan
Chapter 8: There's Something Seriously Wrong with This Family
Chapter 9: Strange Happenstances
Chapter 10: Pnév̱ma Versus Shénshèng
Chapter 11: In Victory Lies Defeat
Chapter 12: The Choices We Make
Afterword
But Wait, There's More
American Kitsune
The Executioner Series
Arcadia's Ignoble Knight
A Most Unlikely Hero
Social Media
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
A Fox’s Revenge
Copyright © 2017 Brandon Varnell
Illustrations © Kirsten Moody
Ebook formatting: Lia at Free Your Words
All rights reserved
Brandon Varnell and Kitsune Incorporated supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce creative works that enrich our culture.
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WORDS YOU SHOULD KNOW
Chūnibyou: A Japanese slang term which roughly translates to "Middle School 2nd Year Syndrome". People with chuunibyou either act like a know-it-all adult and look down on real ones, or believe they have special powers.
Kanji: One of the three writing systems in Japan. It uses Chinese characters.
Tsundere: A Japanese term for a character development process that describes a person who is initially cold and even hostile toward another person before gradually showing a warmer side over time. Gets easily embarrassed.
Yōkai: A class of supernatural monsters, spirits and demons in Japanese folklore. The word yōkai is made up of the kanji for "bewitching; attractive; calamity;" and "spectre; apparition; mystery; suspicious."
Youki: The energy source used by yōkai
Nue: A legendary Japanese yōkai.
Rumi Takahata: A character from an eroge called Cat Girl Alliance.
Gundam: A science fiction media franchise created by Sunrise that feature giant robots (or "mecha") called "mobile suits," with titular mobile suits that carry the name "Gundam."
Yandere: A word commonly used to refer to a character in anime and manga who, at first glance, appears to be extremely cute and kind, but will later show stalker tendencies and even murder people who get too close to their love interests.
Gyakujutsu: Techniques used in feudal era Japan to combat against yōkai. There are only a few humans alive who can use these techniques now.
Shōnen: The demographic of manga for young boys. Shōnen literally translates to “young boy.” Typically, this is referring to teenagers between 13 and 17.
Iaidō: A Japanese martial art that emphasizes being aware and capable of quickly drawing the sword and responding to a sudden attack.
Natsumo Shinobi: A fictional manga inside of the American Kitsune universe. This manga series was inspired by and parodies a real series called Naruto.
Kenjutsu: The umbrella term for all (koryū) schools of Japanese swordsmanship, in particular those that predate the Meiji Restoration.
Yamato Nadeshiko: A Japanese term meaning the "personification of an idealized Japanese woman", or "the epitome of pure, feminine beauty." It is a floral metapho that combines the words Yamato, an ancient name for Japan, and nadeshiko, a delicate frilled pink carnation called Dianthus superbus.
Baka: the Japanese word for idiot.
Kudagitsune: A minor fox spirit that kitsune conjure. They often serve as messengers and spies.
Yuki Rito: The main character to the manga/anime series To LOVE-RU and To LOVE-RU Darkness.
Doujinshi: Self-published manga often created by amateurs. Some amateurs go on to become mangaka, while some mangaka go on to create doujinshi.
CHAPTER 1
THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL
Fan Shénshèng stared at her reflection in the mirror. Dark eyes were set within a round face. Her fair skin complemented her golden locks of hair, a trait of her clan, which trailed all the way down her back before branching out into a dolphin’s tail. Her cherubic features contrasted with her stature and ninety-two centimeters of bust.
Many of her fellow clan members often told her that she had a young-looking face, and they were right. Despite being 216 years old, she still had a bit of a baby face that didn’t quite match her womanly body.
Maybe that’s why I’m the one pretending to be a high school student.
Fan scowled at the thought of going to school. Just contemplating returning to that dump of an educational institute for another day, another minute, even another second, was enough to make her stomach curl. Desert Cactus High School was such a bore. There was nothing to do there. The people were boring, the classes were boring, just about the only thing that wasn’t boring was watching her target. Even then, she still disliked going to school.
Spying wasn’t her thing; it was Zhìlì’s.
“Lady Fan? Are you awake yet?” asked a voice from the other side of her door. It was deep, a low baritone that made her bones rumble.
“Of course I’m awake,” she called back. “What do you want, Li?”
“If you’ve finished getting dressed, please come down to the kitchen and have breakfast,” Li said. “Today’s the day we complete our mission. Guang is already here. We’re going to go over the plan before you head to school.”
For the first time since arriving in Phoenix, Fan felt a burst of relief. She was more than ready to leave this state. Arizona was a place that she would never wish to live in. The sweltering heat made her skin burst with sweat, the arid atmosphere caused her flesh to dry and crack, and the desert landscape bored her to tears. She had been counting the days before they could leave.
“Really? That’s great! I’ll be out in just a second!”
“All right, but don’t take much longer getting ready.”
Li’s footsteps receded, growing softer and softer, until they vanished altogether. Fan waited a moment longer to see if they would return. When they didn’t, she turned back to the mirror that hung from her closet and studied her attire.
That day she had chosen to wear her newest outfit. Her white Lolita dress had a tight bodice that pushed her chest out, further accentuating her sizable bust. The ruffles accenting her shoulders were longer than normal, and bows decorated the front below her chest. Voluminous sleeves hid her hands from view, and the dress flared out after reaching her hips. Knee high socks went up to her ankles. White slippers adorned her sm
all feet.
She twirled around, allowing her dress to lift and flutter. Completing her spin, she reached down and held the ends of her skirt, curtsying.
“Hmm, I wonder if my dearest little brother would enjoy seeing me in this outfit?” she asked herself, feeling just a hint of bitterness seep into her heart. “Not that he’ll be able to enjoy seeing it anymore.”
Straightening back up, Fan whirled around and walked out of the room, her mind teeming with dark thoughts.
Lilian Pnév̱ma, I hope you’ve enjoyed your life up to this point, because I am going to enjoy taking everything from you… just like you took everything from my little brother.
***
Kevin Swift’s lungs burned every time he breathed. Sweat covered his forehead, causing his messy blond hair to stick to his face. It ran down his forehead and dripped into his blue eyes, stinging them something fierce. Even so, he dared not close them. He knew that if he did, he would lose, and losing meant being on the wrong side of a brutal ass kicking.
She came at him more swiftly than Tohru chasing after Miss Kobayashi, attacking his weak points—or what she thought were weak points. Her blonde hair, styled in a bob cut, bounced as she launched several kicks.
None of them hit.
With his breathing ringing harshly in his ears, with sweat caking his shirt to his skin, Kevin avoided the first kick by sidestepping. Then he swerved around the follow-up reverse heel kick that would have broken his solar plexus. He then leapt over the low kick that followed the reverse, tucking his legs into his chest to keep her from hitting his shins.
The style that Kevin used didn’t have a name yet. It was a style that he had created specifically for the purpose of fighting against yōkai. By presenting someone with an obvious hole in his guard, he could predict where they would attack.
Of course, he called it predicting, but it was more like he was manipulating them into attacking that opening. Fighters relied on instinct to battle. When a fighter saw an opening, they went for it. They didn’t have time to think about whether it was a feint or a trap. It was even worse with yōkai, whose animalistic nature made them naturally predisposed toward attacking any opening they saw.
“You’re never going to beat me if all you can do is dodge!” Heather shouted. Kevin didn’t deign her with a response. He lacked the oxygen necessary to respond.
She came at him again, even faster this time. Kevin bit his lip as he avoided a series of punches and kicks by shuffling along the sparring mat. His movements happened at nearly the same time as hers. He knew that to the average eye, it would have looked like he was moving before she even attacked. Heather probably knew differently, but that didn’t stop her from getting frustrated when none of her punches and kicks hit him.
“Dammit! What are you waiting for? An invitation? Hurry up and attack me!”
Kevin didn’t let himself be goaded by her taunts. If he attacked now, if he acted on impulse, then he would lose. He only had one advantage over her, and that was his fighting style, which he had been working on ever since the disastrous spring break vacation to California.
Two months ago, Kevin and Lilian, along with his friends and family, had gone to California to enjoy the beach and the San Diego Comic-Con. However, Lilian and he were nearly killed during their beach trip—an assassin attacked Lilian, and they were caught in a battle between a kitsune clan and an anti-yōkai terrorist group at the Comic-Com. While Kevin had been in several dangerous situations before that, it was the trip to California that really hammered this fact home: The yōkai world was a dangerous place.
While there had been some issues upon their return to Arizona, Kevin had eventually come around and accepted what had happened. All he could do now was press forward. That was why he was working on perfecting this fighting style.
That was also why Kevin didn’t fall for Heather’s taunts and waited for her to make the first move. Heather’s fists blurred by him on either side, ruffling his hair, practically shaving off layers of skin with their speed and power, but still he waited. His chest was beginning to ache, but he kept waiting.
Heather launched another attack at the opening that he gave her. It was a straight jab at his left flank, an easy attack that even a beginner could replicate with ease. It should have been easy for her to do; however, due to her irritation at his continued defense and her inability to hit him, she overextended herself and stumbled forward.
Now!
To an onlooker, it would have looked like Kevin moved before the attack was made. His left foot came forward into Heather’s instep, keeping her from proceeding further. He moved his left hand up and redirected her jab to the side. He felt a surge of triumph as he launched his first attack, a short jab to the kidneys. This battle was as good as his—
“YEOWCH!”
… Or not.
Pain exploded in Kevin’s chest as something hard and sharp stung him worse than a hundred bee stings. He could feel something gooey sticking to his skin, having gone straight through his T-shirt. As he hit the ground, his hands came up to clutch at where he had been hit, a hiss of pain escaping his clenched teeth.
“Shishishi.” Heather chuckled as she twirled her paintball gun around her finger like a cowboy. The weapon, a black gun designed to look like a Millennium G2 9mm compact pistol, seemed to taunt him as it spun with an almost lazy arrogance. “Did you really think it would be that easy to beat me? Come on, Kev, I’ve been trained to fight against all manner of opponents. I’ll admit that style you’re trying to create is frightening, but it only works if you don’t know how your opponent thinks.”
“G-gu.” Kevin covered his face with a hand as though hoping to hide his blush. “So you’re saying that all those angry remarks and that last overextension on your punch was done to lull me into a false sense of security so I would attack and you could shoot me?”
“Pretty much.”
Kevin only had one thing to say to that.
“… All my hate.”
Heather’s loud laughter rang out through the sparring center. Kevin grimaced as he rubbed his chest, wiping the paint off. He could feel the mark the paintball had left on his skin. It felt like a tiny crater dotting the canyon between his pectorals. And it stung. By Inari’s hairy left testicle, did it sting.
“Ha… don’t feel too bad about losing… again.” Heather chuckled when Kevin growled at her. “You did really well this time. Your stamina has increased a lot too. Give yourself another year or two and you might even get better than me. Of course, that’s only if you can remember to start using your guns. Kiara bought those for a reason, you know?”
Heather held out her hand, which Kevin accepted, allowing her to help him up. He winced a bit when cool air hit his chest, but that was his only reaction to the ugly red crater marring his flesh.
“I would if I could, but it’s hard for me to unholster them at the drop of a hat like you can.” He patted the two holsters hiding underneath his armpits and sighed. “I’ve been practicing, but my fastest time is three seconds. The placement of my holsters doesn’t help. It’s hard to pull them out from underneath my armpits.”
Lilian had been recording his gun drawing speed. It had been pretty bad at first, ten seconds just to get them out of his holsters and another five to aim them. Now it only took three to four seconds for the whole process. It was better, but it still wasn’t good enough.
“Yeah, that kind of speed won’t do much against someone like me.” Heather crossed her arms and nodded. “I’d shoot you before you could put a hand on them. Still, I think three seconds is enough time for you to get the drop on any yōkai who’s not trained in combat.”
“It wouldn’t work on yōkai with a predisposition for combat, though,” another voice spoke up.
Kevin and Heather turned to Kiara, who had been watching them spar. She pushed off the wall that she had been leaning against and walked up to them. Her dark brown hair looked as feral as always, jagged and spiky like a dog gone Super Saiyan 3.
She had grown it out a bit more, and it now hung past her shoulders, making her whole Amazonian appearance seem even more, well, Amazonian, he guessed.
She wasn’t wearing her standard business suit that day. A white sleeveless shirt showed off her lean arm, which had several scars and incredible muscle definition. Her thin waist made a sharp contrast with her modest bust. Black shorts adorned her waist. They were booty shorts, so it pretty much looked like she was wearing a second skin, which meant he saw the ridiculous muscles her thighs were sporting.
I feel emasculated every time I see this woman wearing clothing like this. She cuts such an imposing image, even with the missing arm.
Kevin glanced briefly at the stump where Kiara’s arm had been. The skin around her arm had healed, though the pink flesh still had scars from being cauterized. He found it odd, but her missing an arm made Kiara look even tougher than if she still had the appendage.
She had lost that arm the previous year, during a rescue operation when Lilian had been kidnapped by a two-tailed brat of a kitsune named Jiāoào Shénshèng. The arm had been hit by a kitsune’s void fire. The all-consuming flame was something that couldn’t be extinguished. It was a terrifying power that erased the very concept of that which it consumed. To keep herself from being taken by oblivion, she had torn her own arm off.
Kevin used to feel guilty. He was kind of the reason she had lost it, but Kiara had never expressed dissatisfaction with her missing limb, and in fact, she seemed to take pride in it. She displayed her stump of an arm like a badge of honor.
“Done checking me out, boya?” asked Kiara, a feral grin peeling her lips back and revealing her sharp canines.
Kevin’s right eye twitched. “I wasn’t checking you out. I was looking at your scars.”