Chapter 4: Settling In (and Falling Over)Living with a stoic samurai was an exercise in self-control.

  Specifically, controlling the urge to stare.

  Yuki was failing spectacurly.

  It had been three days since Kuroki arrived, and the woman had settled into shrine life with disturbing efficiency. She woke before dawn, practiced sword forms in the courtyard (which Yuki definitely didn't watch from her window), patrolled the grounds, helped with chores, and generally existed in a state of disciplined perfection.

  Meanwhile, Yuki tripped over her own tails at least twice daily.

  "Again," Kuroki said, not looking up from the firewood she was chopping.

  Yuki extracted herself from the bush she'd fallen into—her third accident today—and tried to maintain some dignity. "My bance is fine."

  "You just fell into a shrub."

  "That was intentional. I was... inspecting it. For pests."

  Kuroki finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. "In the pest-inspection methods you know, do you typically fall face-first into the subject?"

  "It's a hands-on approach."

  The samurai's lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but close.

  Yuki counted that as a victory.

  She brushed leaves from her miko outfit—currently her only outfit, which was getting annoying—and tried to look competent. "Anyway, I got all the morning offerings arranged. And the purification ritual is done. And I swept the steps."

  "I know. I watched you trip down those steps."

  "I didn't trip. I descended creatively."

  "You screamed."

  "That was a tactical yell."

  This time Kuroki did smile. Small, brief, but real.

  Yuki's heart did a backflip.

  Her tails wagged.

  Kuroki noticed. Her smile widened just slightly. "Your tails give you away."

  "They have a mind of their own," Yuki muttered, trying to will them into stillness. They continued wagging traitorously. "I can't control them."

  "Can't, or haven't learned to?"

  "Is there a difference?"

  "Yes." Kuroki set down her axe and approached. "Everything can be trained. Even instinctive responses." She stopped directly in front of Yuki, close enough that Yuki could smell cherry blossoms again. "Try now. Keep them still."

  Yuki focused. Concentrated. Channeled every ounce of willpower into her three fluffy white tails.

  They wagged harder.

  "This is impossible," she groaned.

  "It's linked to emotion. Control the emotion, control the tails." Kuroki's grey eyes were entirely too close. "What are you feeling right now?"

  Panic. Attraction. Confusion. The desperate urge to touch your hair.

  "Nothing," Yuki lied. "Absolutely nothing. I'm a void of emotion."

  "Your ears are ft against your head."

  "That's also nothing."

  "And your face is red."

  "I HAVE SENSITIVE SKIN!"

  Kuroki stepped back, and Yuki could breathe again. "We'll work on it," the samurai said. "Control is essential. For shrine maidens and for kitsune."

  "Easy for you to say. You're like... a control robot. Do you ever lose your composure?"

  "Not often."

  "Never?"

  Kuroki was silent for a moment. "Once. When I left my cn."

  The admission hung in the air.

  Yuki's curiosity fred, but she remembered how Kuroki had redirected the conversation st time. "You don't have to talk about it."

  "I know." Kuroki picked up the axe again, resuming her chopping with precise, powerful strikes. "But you'll hear the story eventually. Vilge gossip spreads."

  "I don't need to hear it from gossip."

  Kuroki paused mid-swing. She looked at Yuki with something unreadable in her eyes. "Later," she said quietly. "When we know each other better."

  When we know each other better.

  That implied a future. Time together. A retionship beyond just guardian and protected.

  Yuki's tails wagged again despite her best efforts.

  "Fine," she said. "But I'm holding you to that."

  Kuroki nodded once and went back to chopping wood.

  Yuki tried to think of something clever to say, came up bnk, and decided to retreat before she embarrassed herself further.

  She made it three steps before tripping over a tree root.

  Afternoon brought Tsukuyomi's next "lesson"—illusion magic.

  The goddess appeared in the courtyard right as Yuki was bringing in undry (a task she'd failed at three times before figuring out clothespins).

  "Time for advanced training!" Tsukuyomi announced cheerfully.

  Kuroki, who'd been sharpening her sword nearby, looked up with open suspicion. "Goddess."

  "Samurai." Tsukuyomi gave her a winning smile. "Don't worry, I'm just borrowing my miko for educational purposes."

  "Will she be safe?"

  "Mostly!"

  "That's not reassuring."

  "It's honest, though!" The goddess turned to Yuki. "Come, come. Let's go to the forest. I'll teach you genjutsu."

  Yuki gnced at Kuroki, who looked less than thrilled.

  "I'll be fine," Yuki said. "Probably."

  "I'm coming with you," Kuroki decided, standing.

  Tsukuyomi's smile turned knowing. "Oh? Concerned for your little fox?"

  "She's my responsibility."

  "How devoted." The goddess's eyes glittered with mischief. "Very well. But don't interfere with the lesson."

  They walked into the forest—Tsukuyomi leading, Yuki following, Kuroki watching everything with alert wariness. The trees grew thick here, sunlight filtering through in golden shafts.

  "Illusion magic is a kitsune's specialty," Tsukuyomi expined. "You create false images by maniputing spiritual energy and the observer's perception. Start small—a fake stone, an imaginary flower. Eventually you can create entire false ndscapes."

  "That sounds complicated," Yuki said.

  "It's actually intuitive for foxes. You just... lie with magic."

  "How is that intuitive?!"

  "You're a trickster spirit. Lying is in your blood." Tsukuyomi gestured to a clearing. "Now. Create a flower. Any kind."

  Yuki closed her eyes, reaching for that warm energy inside her chest. She visualized a flower—a simple cherry blossom, pink petals, delicate.

  Exist, she willed.

  The energy shifted, flowed outward through her tails. When she opened her eyes, a shimmering pink flower hovered in the air in front of her.

  It was translucent, clearly not real, but it was there.

  "Excellent! Now make it solid."

  Yuki concentrated harder. The flower solidified, looking real enough to touch.

  Kuroki stepped closer, examining it. "Impressive."

  The compliment hit Yuki like a physical thing. Her concentration shattered. The flower exploded into sparkles.

  "Oops."

  "Emotions again," Tsukuyomi said, ughing. "You'll need to work on that. Now try something bigger. Create an illusory... let's say, a bird."

  Yuki tried.

  The bird came out looking more like a deformed chicken.

  "That's horrifying," Kuroki observed.

  "I'M TRYING!"

  For the next hour, Yuki practiced creating and maintaining illusions. She made flowers (mostly successful), stones (okay), birds (still horrifying), and at one point accidentally created an illusory copy of herself that screamed and ran into a tree.

  "Your subconscious fears are showing," Tsukuyomi said helpfully.

  "I DON'T NEED COMMENTARY!"

  Kuroki, to her credit, didn't ugh. But her eyes definitely crinkled with amusement.

  By the time they headed back to the shrine, Yuki was exhausted and Tsukuyomi had decred her "adequate for a beginner."

  "Tomorrow we practice shapeshifting," the goddess announced. "Full human form—hiding the ears and tails."

  "Why would I want to hide them?"

  "For stealth. For infiltration. For when you need to pass as human in a city." Tsukuyomi patted her head. "Also, it's good discipline."

  She vanished in a shimmer of moonlight.

  Yuki and Kuroki walked back together in silence. The afternoon sun was dipping low, painting the sky orange and pink.

  "You're learning quickly," Kuroki said eventually.

  "You think?"

  "For someone who died and reincarnated three days ago." A pause. "It's remarkable."

  Yuki's heart did that flipping thing again.

  "Thanks," she managed. "I'm trying."

  "I can tell." Kuroki's expression softened slightly. "It's... admirable. You didn't choose this, but you're making it work."

  The words settled warm in Yuki's chest.

  They reached the shrine just as the first stars appeared.

  "I'll make dinner," Yuki offered.

  "I'll supervise," Kuroki countered. "So you don't burn anything."

  "One time! I nearly burned something one time!"

  "That's one time too many in a wooden building."

  Yuki couldn't argue with that logic.

  They cooked together—Kuroki's calm efficiency bancing Yuki's chaotic enthusiasm—and ate by ntern light in the kitchen.

  It felt domestic.

  It felt right.

  And when Yuki's tails brushed against Kuroki's leg under the table, neither of them moved away.

  Progress.

  Author's Note:

  If you haven't checked out the audio version of this novel's first chapter yet, please do and provide feedback! More audio chapters will get released tomorrow (or maybe today, as the guy making this is on vacation). You can check out the audio version here: Patreon Audio Link.

  [Note it is free and always will be free]