Okami: A Little Red Riding Hood Retelling

by Nicolette Andrews

  “You said you were letting me go,” she snarled, and her canines elongated. She was losing control of her inner wolf. Not now. The timing couldn’t be worse.

  From out of the mist came three boar yokai, their jeering faces twisted into smiles revealing yellowing tusks. Their bodies were covered in coarse black hair, and their feet ended in hooves. They fanned out as they approached her.

  “Let you go? You’ve only just arrived,” said the boar yokai on her right.

  “Why don’t you play with us, girly?” asked the one on her left.

  Akane fired three arrows in rapid succession, before turning to run. She hadn’t gotten more than a few feet before two monkey yokai dropped out of the treetops, blocking her path.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” said the yokai, “Akio will want to meet you.”

  3

  He hadn’t gone more than a few feet when laughter broke out behind him. Shit, that sounded like Akio’s lackeys. He should have escorted her out of the forest. Turning back around, he raced in the direction he’d last seen her. It was just his luck that a group of them were lurking in the forest today.

  When he found them, they had surrounded the okami and were taking turns pushing her as she rushed them. Enemies pressed in on all sides, and she couldn’t use her bow and arrow. They used her disadvantage to toy with her, opening gaps in their ranks only to close up and knock her backward. She fell to the ground and glared at them. Her eyes were glowing red and her fangs had descended.

  A strange power rolled off her in waves. She must have been holding back before. Even he had underestimated her at first. He’d assumed she resisted her wolf form because it was weak. The average okami didn’t have much spiritual pressure. But beneath her exterior lay a powerful wolf: one the likes of which he hadn’t seen in centuries. Who was this strange okami? Shin hung back another moment, waiting for her to transform and tear them all to shreds. It wouldn’t be any great loss - these fools weren’t like him. They’d chosen to follow Akio. They might not be as devious as Akio, but they were just as cruel.

  Instead of standing up to defend herself, she remained on all fours, her body trembling.

  “Tired of playing, wolf?” taunted a boar with a snort.

  They were too dense to feel the power unfurling from her. The immensity of her power brushed against his, pushing against his. It was a familiar sensation. One he hadn’t realized how much he missed. It had been centuries since he’d seen his own kind. She couldn’t be a member of his pack, they’d been dead for a long time now. If only he could see her wolf form, then he might ascertain where she came from.

  The yokai closed in as she leaped up, drawing a hidden dagger and swinging at them. The power he had sensed evaporated, not a trace remaining, as if he’d imagined it.

  The yokai were not impressed by her display and only laughed in response. They pushed her around a few more times, taking her dagger from her and sending her once more sprawling onto the ground. Shin leaned forward. Was she toying with them? What was her game?

  The boar yokai, Riju, pinned her arm behind her back. They’d take her to Akio and she’d face his wrath. He hated trespassers on his land. He’d tried to warn her, and she’d knocked him unconscious and called him Akio’s dog. This was her own fault, he supposed. Though he would like to know why she hadn’t transformed. He turned to walk away.

  “Not giving up? You’ve got fire,” a monkey yokai, Genji hollered with delight.

  Shin glanced over his shoulder. There was dried blood on her forehead from a wound that had already closed. Her eyes weren’t red like before, but there was fire in them all the same. It was the sort of spark that Akio would love to extinguish. Rin had a similar fire in her. That’s why he’d given himself over to Akio all those centuries ago. I must be the biggest fool.

  “What is this we have here?” Shin asked as he stepped out of the shadows and into the clearing.

  The yokai all turned to him as he arrived, including the okami who was glaring at him as if he’d been the one torturing her. He pretended not to notice and gave the yokai a deadly smile. He might be Akio’s dog, but he wasn’t a tamed dog.

  When he’d first arrived in Akio’s palace, a group of Akio’s lackeys had thought to humiliate him by beating him within an inch of his life. What they hadn’t expected was for him to destroy them before they’d gotten the chance. He had been half mad in those days. He hadn’t cared if he lived or died.

  Shin had lost it all. The woman he loved, his freedom, and his best friend. He’d hoped Akio would kill him to punish him for it but keeping him alive inflicted much more pain. No matter how many lackeys Shin killed, Akio wouldn’t grant him freedom in death. As time passed, he’d grown numb to it all, but his reputation as a killer had been made.

  As he approached the monkey yokai hopped backward, landing on nearby tree branches, their long tails swaying back and forth. Their faces were a cross between human and ape. Their large ears turned red and their beady brown eyes were trained on Shin. They’d retreated both to put distance between them and Shin and give them the higher ground in case he turned on them. The boar, Riju, who was holding the okami, wrinkled his pig nose and furrowed bushy brows. His companions stood one step behind them, hands resting on the hilt of their swords.

  “We found her wandering the woods,” said Riju with a snort. He stared at Shin, emboldened by his role as leader of their gang.

  Shin looked over at the she-wolf lazily as if they’d never met before. Her pupils were pinpricks at the center of glowing red eyes. Given the chance, she’d tear out his throat - he was certain of it.

  “Is this how we handle trespassers now?” Shin asked in a bored tone while he examined his nails.

  The yokai shared looks. They were smart enough to know a trap when they saw one.

  “We were just having some fun,” said Genji in a screeching tone.

  “And if you’d killed her before Akio questioned her, then what?”

  None of them would look at him.

  “If you’d all rather play games, then I’ll take the girl to Akio myself.” Riju let her go and she fell forward into a crouch. Her plans were written all over her face. He gave the briefest shake of his head, hoping she’d realize he was trying to help her before she attacked.

  She let him approach, though her gaze was wary. He grabbed her by the forearm, pulling her to her feet, and leaned in. “Just play along,” he whispered.

  She took a swing at his head, which he easily dodged. After a brief staged tussle, he twisted her arm behind her back and marched her forward.

  “You’re just going to take credit for this find?” asked Riju.

  “I found her first, but she slipped me. Thanks for catching her.” He tipped his head in thanks.

  “Well. That is...”

  “Do me a favor and don’t tell Akio I almost let her go.” He grinned, baring his teeth in warning. Before they could question him, he pulled on Akane’s arm, leading her away. The key to any kind of deception was acting confident. If he kept walking, none of them would stop him. He kept his head cocked slightly, listening to make sure they weren’t followed.

  The yokai grumbled but departed, and Shin pulled the okami in the direction of Akio’s palace. Only once he was certain no one was watching did he let her go.

  She spun to face him, her hands up in defense once more.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked. Her eyes were no longer red, but there was still a strange feral quality to her posture. Her hands were clenched tight, and her eyes darted all around like a wolf cornered.

  “I think the words you’re looking for are thank you.”

  She took a step back.

  Shin shook his head and laughed. “Come with me, if you want to get out of these woods alive.”

  She hesitated a moment, as if she was debating whether or not she wanted to trust him. Her hair had come loose from her braid and caressed her face in loose strands. There was something charming about her scowls. Not since
Rin had he met another okami nearly as stubborn.

  Thinking about Rin brought back a flood of painful memories. It awakened an aching loneliness that still lingered at the darkest corners of his heart. He needed to get the okami out of here before he started having even crazier ideas. He started walking. If she decided not to follow him, that was her problem. He’d already taken a risk helping her escape. He wasn’t going to kill himself over a fool.

  She followed after him, and he led her to the edge of the forest, taking twisting pathways down rarely used animal trails that he’d discovered over centuries prowling these woods. They kept a wide berth of the typical patrol outposts, until they arrived at the edge of the forest where it abutted the human farmlands. He waved his arm in the direction of the rice paddies.

  “Thanks,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

  She looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time. Without meaning to he found himself comparing her to Rin: the sweep of her lips, turned down in a scowl were nothing like Rin’s mischievous grin. Her thick brown hair was dull compared to Rin’s auburn waves. Perhaps he’d saved her out of lingering feelings for Rin. But this woman was nothing compared to her, just a stubborn okami who’d wandered where she shouldn’t have.

  “Forget it,” she said before bolting.

  She was a red and white blur moving over the rice paddies before disappearing over the horizon.

  He leaned forward as he watched her, the only thing keeping him from crossing the perimeter of Akio’s domain was the heavy metal collar around his neck. He grabbed it, tugging on it. There was no use trying to take it off. It would never budge. Akio owned him, body and soul. There was no use wishing for things that he couldn’t have.

  Shin transformed into his wolf form and then he ran through the forest, his feet flying. Dappled sunlight filtered through the green canopy of the trees. His paws skimmed the top of a bush as he leaped, and when he landed the dead leaves danced on the air, caught up in the wind he’d created.

  A rabbit nibbled on new grass, its back to him. The flicker of its white tail caught his attention, and he slowed to study it. His muscles tensed, poised to lunge. All his animal instincts were telling him to kill. It had been too long since he’d let the wolf out and after today he needed the release.

  There’d be no pain. He was downwind, so the kill would be quick and clean. It would sate the wolf’s bloodlust for a time. And yet he hesitated. His inner wolf was not his master. Akio would likely find out about the okami. And when he did, he’d be furious. But what could Akio do to him? He wouldn’t kill him, he needed Shin. His hatred of the dragon would outweigh his anger at Shin’s betrayal. And it’s not as if it would come at a surprise. Akio knew Shin wasn’t loyal to him. No matter how Akio tried to force Shin to be his pawn, Shin would always be loyal to the dragon.

  To add insult to injury, if Shin were summoned reeking of blood, it would make Akio even angrier. Akio hated anything that lacked refinement. According to Akio, hunting was for heathens, not his pets.

  The wind changed direction. The rabbit lifted its head as it caught his scent. It bolted for cover. Shin smelled it too. The bitter scent of metal. Then like an invisible hand tapping on his shoulder, spiritual energy brushed against him. A warning and an announcement.

  “Can I help you?” Shin asked, his gaze fixed on where the rabbit had escaped. If only he could follow it.

  The man stepped out of the shadows. He wore a billowing black haori and hakama, a black mask which covered the lower half of his face, and an ax strapped to his back. His long black hair was tied in a topknot.

  “You’ve been summoned,” said the huntsman, his voice muffled by the mask.

  The dark figure had always made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Akio had likely sent him because he was the only person Shin truly feared. All Shin knew about the yokai was that he was ancient and powerful, but no one knew where Akio had found him or anything about his past at all. The lesser yokai stayed clear of Shin, but everyone feared the huntsman - Akio’s ruthless killer. He was likely one of the First Children, and a replacement for his old servant, Noaki, who’d left Akio’s service centuries ago. If only Shin could be so lucky as to escape.

  “What for this time?” Shin asked, his tone light and still hoping Akio hadn’t found out.

  “That is for the guardian to tell you.”

  That wasn’t a good sign.

  Akio’s palace was at the center of the forest. It burst from the treetops, with sloped dark roofs that stood out against the white-washed walls. The buildings sprawling across the compound were encircled by a deep canyon. The only entrance into the palace was over a narrow rope bridge. Above it all, a massive tree with bright white blossoms scattered white petals, which danced on the wind and littered the stone courtyard. The tree was the source of Akio’s power and marked him as guardian of the forest.

  The tension in the air thickened. The guards, a pair of oni, were massive beasts with thick gray hides and two eyes between the pair of them. Unlike most oni, Akio forced them to wear bright red armor over their navy hakama and haori. They were particularly rigid today.

  “How mad is he?” Shin asked them.

  “Furious,” grunted Sotaru, on the left.

  “What did you do now?” asked Renzo on the right.

  Shin shrugged. He wasn’t going to give himself away that easily. Inside, his hide was twitching, anticipating a beating that was surely headed his way. He made his way down the twisting hallways of the palace. The passageways were ever-changing, and if you didn’t know your way around, you’d get lost within the labyrinth. The palace itself was alive, fueled by Akio’s guardian power and the tree. Shin had heard rumors that Akio made a deal with the ancient tree spirit, who’d given him the power to become forest guardian.

  When Shin approached Akio’s throne room, he could hear his roars. It shook the ceiling. The guards at the door opened up and Shin slunk in casually. Akio tossed a pitcher of sake against the wall, and it shattered into pieces. Alcohol sprayed Shin’s face and clothes. He wiped it with the back of his hand, flicking it onto the floor.

  Akio, a boar yokai, was much larger than his subjects. He was twice Shin’s size, both wide and tall, and was covered in coarse wiry black hair. Though he looked like an oversized wild boar, he wore a fine silk haori and hakama in the fashion of the human realm and wore a courtier’s hat on top of his head. Though he tried to mimic human form, he could not get rid of the hooves or his boar-like face.

  “How dare he!” Akio growled, and then seeing him, pointed at Shin with a hoof. “You!”

  “Me,” Shin replied blandly, pointing at his own chest. Normally he wouldn’t have played with fire this way, but he wanted to get this over with quickly.

  Akio stood up to his full height. He filled the space, blocking out the light from the room’s brazier and casting Shin into shadow, his eyes glowing red from rage.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” He sprayed spittle onto Shin’s face.

  Shin wiped the spit away and avoided making eye contact. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

  Akio trembled, his face turned ruddy. “Who was she, the dragon’s spy? Have you been feeding him information about me?”

  “I haven’t spoken to the dragon, other than what you’ve ordered me to say. I belong to you, master.” Shin bowed his head, the words bitter in his mouth. The only way to appease Akio was to play to his ego.

  Akio’s hoof hung in the air. Shin waited for the blow to fall, but it never did. Instead, Akio stomped back over to his enormous cushion and sat. The platters of food and drink tipped over. Dumplings and rice were scattered across the floor, while even more sake stained the tatami. Akio called for his sake, with a jerk of his hoof. A servant rushed forward with a fresh jug. Akio drank deeply, spilling the milky liquid down his throat and wetting the front of his haori. When he was finished he smacked his lips. The color had gone from his face
and he was almost smiling, which was more concerning than his anger.

  “That’s right, you belong to me.” He smiled, and it made Shin’s intestines squirm. “I am willing to forgive your transgression. Clean that up.” He pointed at the shattered pottery.

  Shin’s head shot up. He knew what was coming next. He could try and fight it, but it only made the punishment that much worse. He walked over and squatted down, picking up pieces, stacking them on one another.

  “Not like that,” Akio said. “Use your mouth.”

  Shin clenched his empty hand. Even he had his limits. He had to have some pride left to him.

  “Now,” Akio commanded.

  The word was laced with power. He could not disobey. His collar tightened, choking him, and a part of him would rather die than stoop so low. His damn body struggled for air and he transformed into his true wolf form. Then one by one, he picked up the broken fragments, the sharp edges cut his tongue and filled his mouth with blood.

  He spit them out onto a cloth, provided by a servant. Blood dripped from his mouth, and onto the floor, mixing with saliva and staining his muzzle.

  “And the rest,” Akio said.

  Shin looked at him, considering trying to tear his throat out. He wouldn’t succeed, but at least he’d have the satisfaction of rebellion.

  “Do it,” Akio urged. Fiery pain rippled outward from his collar, igniting all his nerves at once. He stood his ground, his body convulsing until the pain subsided. When it was over, Shin’s tail hung between his legs. Rebellion was pointless. Akio always got what he wanted. He lapped up the sickening mixture of his blood and spilled sake.

  “Very good. But I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson.” The soft croon of his voice sent a chill down his spine.

  “Bring the girl back by the next full moon or I will lock you away for a hundred years in the dungeon.”

  Shin shuddered at the thought. The dungeon was the cruelest punishment Akio could devise. The cells were completely devoid of light. Not only pitch black but it suppressed all spiritual power. Spending one night in that cell had made him feel like he could lose his mind. A hundred years was worse than a death sentence.