by Anna Frost
Jien had once complained she popped in the physical world recklessly, with no thought as to who might see her, but it was untrue. She saw no reason to hide herself from people they were dealing with as part of their mission, so she didn’t. However, she could have listed several reasons not to show herself to her clan, among others the freak show she would become if she did. So when she went to visit her father, she only manifested when he was alone.
Presently, Kiba was milling in a room with several other clan members, speaking quietly and stealing frequent glances toward the door of an adjacent room. Curious, Sanae misted over.
In the adjacent room, she found the clan healer Maru bent over someone who moaned in a frail, old voice.
Grandmother Naoko?
It was her, face drawn and bloodless.
“You should take the medicine,” Maru said.
The old woman stirred. “No. It will come when it comes. Now out with you and your hovering.”
“As you wish.” Shoulders slumped, Maru rose and left, closing the door behind him. With her keen hearing, Sanae did not need to follow him to catch the ensuing whispered conversation.
“How is she?”
“She’s too old and her bones too badly broken to mend properly under the healing trance. They would heal every which way. We could attempt surgery to realign them, but at her age and in her condition…” Maru trailed off ominously. “How are the twins?”
There were but one pair of twins in the clan, young Hikaru and Kaoru, specialists of troublemaking. What had they done now?
“They took your drugged tea and cried themselves to sleep,” a male voice said. “I wouldn’t want to be their parents when they have to tell them Grandmother Naoko won’t make it.”
“It’ll serve them right for allowing their troublesome kits to play unsupervised in the forest!”
They said no more, to Sanae’s great irritation. What had happened, exactly? She’d have to have a look. She crept toward the figure lying motionless as if in sleep. Already stained layers of bandages were wrapped around Grandmother Naoko’s legs and chest but the shapes they held together weren’t right. If she tried to fix this mess the spirit way, the bones would heal “every which way,” as Maru had said.
Further bandages covered the side of the old woman’s head, a touch of red visible near her right ear. Those bandages incidentally covered what Sanae knew to be Grandmother Naoko’s good eye, the other long gone half-blind.
“Who’s there?” Grandmother Naoko said.
Sanae froze. She couldn’t have made a noise, not in this half-physical state.
“I can sense you, young impudent. Let me see, that aura belongs to…” The old voice quavered on the last few words. “Sanae? No, no, how silly of me. Kiba, is that you? I don’t recall your aura being so similar to your daughter’s.”
Hi, Grandmother. It’s Sanae. I’m, um, not entirely dead.
The old woman was silent for so long Sanae feared her heart had stopped. “We burned your body,” she whispered at last, raising a trembling hand in Sanae’s direction. “Are you a ghost?”
Focusing her energy into physicality and reshaping her appearance to that of a real fox, complete with lush, soft fur, Sanae pushed against the questing hand.
What happened?
“Those fool kits were playing on the edge overlooking the river, daring each other to look down. One of them slipped and the other didn’t have the leverage to pull him back up. I caught them, but the edge crumbled under our combined weight and I became a crash cushion. They’ll heal, but I won’t. My broken bones might puncture my lungs if I move and blood loss is slowly emptying my veins.”
Grandmother, listen. My human body died, but the rest didn’t. You can come with me. The other spirits aren’t very good at conversation so it’s a little lonely, but it’s not hard to talk to people. I talk with my brother often, and my father too.
“Ha!” the old woman said, triumph in her voice. “I knew Kiba was keeping a secret! He’s been wandering about with that tortured expression of his that means he’s keeping a secret and is troubled about it. Your mother would have noticed if she hadn’t been in mourning.”
Sanae ducked her head at the reminder of her mother’s condition. A dutiful daughter would have eased her mother’s sorrow by now. But she couldn’t stomach the idea of being rejected by her mother the way her brother had rejected her. Akakiba had come around, somewhat, but it had taken time.
From her mother, it would hurt too deeply.
Grandmother Naoko’s breathing was heavy and pained even as she said, “Tell me, child. Tell me everything. These old bones cannot hold me much longer.”
Sanae spoke fast, afraid she might lose the old woman to unconsciousness. She concluded, Watch my aura. Come with me.
She crossed over to the spiritual realm with excruciating slowness, hoping Grandmother Naoko was able to perceive what she was doing.
In the spiritual realm, Grandmother Naoko’s life spark was dim and flickering, a frightening sight. Sanae reached out for it, calling, You don’t need the body. Don’t die with it. Come!
Nothing happened. She crossed back over. Can’t you hear me, Grandmother?
“I’m too weak, child, and this body won’t let me go.”
But it’s not difficult! Even Akakiba—!
Wait. Her brother hadn’t so much left his body as been shoved out of it by an invading demon. Knowing what she was thinking of trying was wrong, she nonetheless steeled her resolve to do it.
I’m going to push you out. Be ready.
Grandmother Naoko’s aura was flickering, her body giving up. She was panting with her mouth open, making noises Sanae had heard from the dying before.
No!
She charged in like a maddened horse, forcing her way into the frail old body without a thought for the pain she might be causing. Making herself hard as a rock, she collided with Grandmother Naoko’s mind and soul.
A dying woman couldn’t oppose her; the spark of life was forced out.
Sanae left the broken body too, searching and calling frantically. Grandmother? Are you here? Grandmother!
Surely she hadn’t just shoved her into death?
Grandmother!
Young lady, we’re going to have words, you and I. Being non-physical doesn’t give you the right to behave like a demon! Pushing people out of their own bodies, indeed! There was a convincing snort. Why couldn’t you do this six months ago, when my joints were torturing me? Six months of horrible joint pain you could have spared me! She paused. I will admit that in that case, there wouldn’t have been anyone to cushion those fool kits’ fall. When I get my paws on their parents!
Without so much as a moment of doubt, Grandmother Naoko crossed over to the physical side. Following, Sanae witnessed her appear in the middle of the clan gathering as a youthful, perfectly groomed fox with an astonishingly real-looking coat of fur.
Stop planning my funeral, Grandmother Naoko told the gathering with indignation, for such was the nature of the conversation her arrival interrupted. And do get rid of that bag of broken bones in the room. It’s disgraceful.
There was an entirely natural moment of shock, followed by denial and questions. Everybody was shouting at the same time, so not one of them could make themselves heard. Well then. Asking about shifting and where clothing went would have to wait.
Sanae was amused, and warmed, to spy a few men and women discreetly wiping tears. Perhaps Inari would be reborn and their land drained of life. But perhaps they would stop the cult, and the clan would enter a new life. Perhaps mourning would end, forever.
Speaking of mourning…
Sanae sought her mother’s spark and found her before the altar on which a painting of a red-haired girl rested surrounded with lit incense sticks, fresh flowers, a
nd the traditional offering of sake and rice. Mourning still, after all this time.
She shifted to mirror her long-dead body. Red hair and sharp features on a young face, modest curves and discreet muscles on a short stature, training attire to clothe it, kosode and hakama and headband to restrain wild hair. She feared, and Akakiba feared, that perhaps she was no longer this Sanae. But for her mother, she wanted to be.
Mother. Don’t mourn for me.
Akahana’s eyes went wide.
“Sanae?”
About the Author
Anna Frost is a Canadian girl who spends winters writing and dreaming of summer. An overdose of Japanese culture and media has led her to write fantasy inspired by Japanese mythology. Think samurai and ninja, demons and fox spirits.
In a shocking break with literary tradition, Anna does not live with cats. Instead she lives with chinchillas, which can be just as demanding and evil as cats.