The Fox's God (16 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Yuki

“M
orning, Aito,” Yuki said. “How do you feel?”

Aito didn’t answer, but his gaze did slide towards Yuki, however briefly.

“Did you see?” Jien said, practically vibrating with excitement. “He reacts to his name! If we give him time, he’ll recover.”

“I agree,” the healer said dryly. “Food, rest, and time will go further than any medicine.” He moved around the room pulling items from shelves to put in his bag, his wooden leg thumping against the
tatami
at every step. “I will return shortly,” he told them, stepping out. He was probably off to visit another patient.

Jien talked to Aito, rambling about everything he’d lately seen or heard. “—and the twins are real terrors. I told you about the missing
yukata
in the baths already, right? Their latest trick was to put paint on the ground outside Inari’s room. She thought she’d walked in a water spill and paid it no mind, so now there’s paws prints on the floor. The foxes are having a crisis over whether to clean them or preserve them forever. Some want to pry off the floorboards to keep them safe from other people’s unworthy feet. I think they’ve gone insane, the lot of them.”

Yuki couldn’t help but laugh. Then he quickly looked round to be certain no fox had heard. Their obsession with Inari was ridiculous, but they wouldn’t take kindly to being told so. It would abate in time—right? “I hadn’t heard.”

“You’re always with Aki. Not many people go out of their way to tell him things.”

“They go out of their way to tell you?”

“Well, no, but I like to eavesdrop,” Jien said. “It’s very useful for finding out things, eavesdropping.” There wasn’t so much as a hint of shame in his tone. He was like Sanae in that way.

The stray thought dimmed his amusement like a cloud blocking sunlight. Why did he keep forgetting she was gone, only to be brought short whenever her name bubbled up in his mind? Maybe it was the lack of a body that made it so difficult to grasp she would never again pop out of the spirit world with a cheerful greeting. He hadn’t seen his father’s body either, but seeing their home aflame had burned the truth of his death into his mind. Sanae’s disappearance lacked a sense of finality.

Jien waved a hand in front of Yuki’s face. “Hey, are you here? What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s nothing.”

Jien gave him a suspicious look, eyes narrowed, but accepted his empty reassurances. “Hey, want to know how Aki and I met? He says I’m a pervert just because I once fell in a pool full of naked women, but he’s worse. He stalked me through the woods. I feared for my virtue. Or I would have, if I’d had any.”

“Stalking, huh?” Yuki settled his back against the wall. “Go on. I’m sure Aito would love to hear all about it.” He’d ask Akakiba’s version later; between the two, he might even be able to find out the truth.

What Jien had to say was…interesting. In many ways.

Maru returned, only to say, “Jien, I’m needed down in the village. My daughter will be here as soon as she finishes training.”

“That’s fine. I’ll stay.”

Most people’s footsteps sounded like footsteps. Hachiro’s sounded like a small earthquake making its way down the hall. All three of them turned in time to witness him burst in the room with a loud, “My friend, you’re awake!” He swooped down on Aito to hug him. “I’m glad!”

Jien tugged at Hachiro’s meaty arm. “Hey, hey, let him breathe, he’s not all back yet!”

Yuki slipped outside the room after Maru, closing the door as he went. “Is it something serious? In the village?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I regularly visit. Sakura is a hard working girl, but she needs free time to plan her wedding.”

“I’ll come along, if you don’t mind.” Sakura was Akakiba’s friend. She might like to receive news.

They rode horses down the wide mountain road, either for speed or because Maru couldn’t walk that far. Possibly both. They went a little farther, past the village—no, not past. There was a new area, full of recent constructions. Rice fields sprawled where his memory insisted had been forest before.

“I don’t remember this part of the city,” he said.

“Those survivors of the battle who were agreeable to it were relocated here,” Maru said.

The foxes had previously called it “The Last Battle;” had their outlooks on their future brightened enough for the name to be dropped? That would be good. Being confronted with the victims, some of whom he’d personally injured while they were possessed…that would be less than good. Nothing to do but go forward.

Sakura must have been expecting Maru. She stood outside with the medicine travel box on her back. She blinked at Yuki as if not quite certain who he was. “I know you, don’t I?”

“Yuki,” he supplied. “Akakiba’s friend.”

“Oh! Yes.” She tip-toed forward, looking up at him. “You’ve grown! You were shorter than me.”

“Was I? It wasn’t even a year ago.” He couldn’t use his clothes to judge if his sleeves seemed shorter on his arms, because everything he wore today was brand new, courtesy of the Fox clan. He hadn’t anything else to wear, since disapproving women had insisted on taking away the hideously dirty set he’d arrived in—including the boots. He suspected they’d burned it all rather than mending the sword holes and scrubbing out the blood and mud and whatever else the fabrics had soaked up.

Sakura peered past him. “Where’s Akakiba? Is he coming too?”

“Ah, no. He was busy this morning.”

She bit her lower lip, ducking her gaze. “Is he angry I’m getting married?”

“Oh, no, not at all! He really was busy!”

Sakura’s eyes came up. “Ahhh, he could be a little bit jealous! Has he ever noticed I’m an attractive woman?” She waved him silent when he tried to answer. “It’s not your fault he’s so rude. I hope he’ll come to the wedding. His mother said she would be there. I like her. She’s very…helpful.” The twitch in her smile, as if she were repressing laughter, hinted there was something of a story there, but she didn’t elaborate.

“I’m sure he’ll be there.” Akahana probably had a plan.

“You have to come, too. Seiji would be happy to meet you again.”

They chatted about the marriage while following Maru going about his rounds. He occasionally asked Sakura for herbs or her opinion on somebody’s symptoms, but primarily seemed to be there to inspect a handful of people with missing limbs and, in one case, adjust a fake wooden leg identical to his own.

“They like him better than me,” Sakura confessed as they trailed behind Maru. “Because he doesn’t pity them.”

It was guilt, rather than pity, that clung to Yuki, for his part in harming these people. They smiled and worked like nothing was wrong, but many must lie at night and suffer nightmares or endure lingering pain from their injuries.

“Did this all happen at the battle?” Other than the man with the missing leg, the disabled were mostly missing fingers or the entire right hand, the one with which they’d have held a weapon.

“Yes and no. Wounds go bad sometimes, and there’s no healing spring near. I wish we’d had Grandmother back then. She comes and heals, if there’s need.”

Yuki hesitated. “Which grandmother do you mean?”

“Grandmother Naoko,” Sakura said after an identical moment of hesitation. “You know about her, yes?” His noise of assent relaxed her, and she continued. “I’m not to speak of it to outsiders, of course. They trust me with this because I had already heard about Sanae’s special circumstances.”

Ah, Sakura had known about that? There was definitively a story there. But the way she spoke Sanae’s name, fondly and cheerfully… She didn’t know about Sanae’s second death.

Yuki found he didn’t have the strength to tell her. It was nice to spend time with someone who was happy and unburdened by recent loses, even if being here didn’t help him feel likewise happy and unburdened. He couldn’t meet anybody’s eyes, not knowing who here might have lost a sibling or parent to his blade.

“I thought there would be more people here.” In his recollections, the battleground had stretched forever.

“Some decided to rebuild their old village,” Sakura said. “Akahana has been matchmaking, too, on behalf of the unmarried youths.” She hesitated. “Does Akakiba know several of them will marry into the clan, as brides and adopted grooms? I don’t think they like him very much.”

“I don’t know if he was told.” He’d have to breech the subject, if nobody else did. To warn him.

Grandmother Naoko materialized. Even though he could never have confused her with Sanae, his heart gave a little leap of split-second hope.

“Good afternoon, Grandmother,” Sakura said.

Good afternoon, child,
Naoko said before turning her gaze on Yuki.
Takashi is calling a meeting in the evening. If you depart now, you’ll be in time. It’s about the swords.

“I’ll be there. Sakura, can you tell Maru I have to go ahead?”

It felt like he was fleeing, unwilling to engage these people. The foxes had arranged for their needs, so there was nothing he could accomplish. What had he been thinking, coming here? His pained feelings couldn’t change anything.

He rode back alone, glad for the horse’s mild nature. If it had wanted to gallop off, he wouldn’t have had the skill to get it back under control. One had to wonder what had happened to their own horses, the ones they’d had to leave behind. They might have returned to Chiyako’s house. She might have kept them.

He arrived with time to spare, enough to have a word with Jien. “Aito’s asleep,” Jien said. “I’ll be at the meeting later.”

He looked for Akakiba next. Not in their assigned room, not in the baths, not in the training hall. He wandered the garden, detouring twice to avoid disturbing other people’s peace, until he spotted a waist-length mane of hair over the large shoulders of a man. As far as he’d seen, there wasn’t a single person in the clan, man or woman, with hair longer than Akakiba’s. He’d never point that out, though.

The entire family was there: father, mother, son. They hadn’t fought, then. They were inside the building but the door was open onto the garden. He considered sneaking away, to avoid disturbing their privacy, but Akahana saw him before he could.

“Oh, Yuki!” she called, beckoning with her fingers.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Come in, come in. It’s a family moment.”

Leaving his sandals on the ground, Yuki stepped up onto the veranda and inside the room. There was a Buddhist altar in a corner, the wooden cabinet standing with its doors wide open to display the religious image inside. The foxes did not seem overly concerned with matters of religion, leading him to suspect the altar’s primary function was to display the painting, placed in front of everything else, that depicted a familiar red-haired girl. Somebody in the clan had talent, to have produced such a likeness.

Maybe noticing the direction of his gaze, Akahana said, “I was telling my son he’s lucky we didn’t name him Sanae. I always liked the name. But we wanted something fiercer for our first child, to help him or her become a great warrior.”

Fate named him,
Kiba said.

“Perhaps so, husband.”

Akakiba didn’t seem as pleased as one might expect he’d be after hearing such praise from his parents. “Sanae didn’t need a fierce name to be a great warrior.”

“Don’t be thick,” Akahana said sharply. “We mean to say fate knew a woman’s name would suit you ill. The fact both our children became great warriors isn’t a surprise to anyone.”

Oh, there it was—the fight. Quick, quick, a distraction. “I heard you’re going to adopt human grooms into the clan,” he said, but then regretted it. That wasn’t going to keep them from fighting.

“Yes,” Akahana said, not without shooting a wary look at her son. “Some human survivors of the battle have little family left, and not much else either. We will welcome those willing to marry in, girls and boys alike. We have a few coming-of-age ceremonies to celebrate this coming year. Maru’s daughter is first, I believe. We also have a handful of widows and widowers, some human, who are young enough to remarry.”

Akakiba twitched. “You’re trying to force grieving people into new marriages?”

“The villagers grieve as much as we do. They’ll understand each other.”

“That’s not—”

“—your choice to make. They’re fully capable of making their opposition known. I will be careful.”

“Do so,” Akakiba said shortly. “We have a meeting soon, and Yuki hasn’t eaten.”

After that abrupt goodbye, they went to secure some snacks.

“I thought you’d be angrier, about the villagers,” Yuki said, trying to watch Akakiba’s face without being obvious about it.

“It’s not such a bad solution.”

“But it’ll be unpleasant to have them in your home.”

“There’s no shortage of people here who dislike me. I’ll hardly notice a few more.”

“Not true. They respect you for killing a god.”

“They’re far more interested in Inari, and in the muscled men we brought back, than in my supposed exploits taking down a mindless foe.”

It was difficult to argue, since he hadn’t noticed anyone going out of their way to congratulate Akakiba. Had anybody even asked him about Sanae, other than his parents?

Akakiba eyed his triangular rice ball as if he found its existence offensive; he bit into it viciously, swallowed, and said, “Tell me. Were you
approached
by any women of the clan while we were out?”

Approached? What did that mea—
Oh.
“What? No.” He felt compelled to look around and ensure there weren’t any women about to pounce. “Why are you asking?”

“They’re all over the others—even Jien!—but they’re ignoring you.” His lips curled bitterly. “You’re tainted by my company.”

“I would rather say ‘protected.’ I’d be afraid of offending them when I say no.”

“You could say yes.” Akakiba said, tone even. But he was still savaging his rice balls.

“No.” That was, really and truly, all he had to say about it. “To get back to the subject… Your parents are proud of your accomplishments. That’s what’s important. I know my father would be proud, too.”

“It’s what parents do.”

“We saved our land, didn’t we? Parents can be proud about far less, true, but on this subject it’s entirely justified.”

Akakiba finally quirked a smile. “Nothing is saved yet. That’s what the meeting is for.”

“Then we should hurry and go, shouldn’t we?”