Kitsune: A Little Mermaid Retelling

by Nicolette Andrews

  “You can speak freely here.”

  “Well, it is no secret Lady Nishimori is strange. We believe Yuri may have learned her true nature and lost her life for it. At least that’s what the rumor is about the palace.”

  Interesting. I will need to tread carefully. If she is a witch or Yokai, she may realize I am onto her and retaliate. I must proceed with caution. “Thank you for bringing me this news.”

  Rokuro let himself out with a promise to bring Hotaru news of any new developments. Hotaru waited a few moments before leaving on his own errand. He had to tell his father. Lord Kaedemori could only pretend to be blind to Hikaru’s faults for so long. Now their people were dying and it was time Lord Kaedemori admitted that his oldest son was bewitched and unfit to rule.

  He went to his father’s bedchamber, omitting the formal meeting room. A servant was exiting as Hotaru arrived. When the servant saw him, he dipped a hasty bow, hardly disguising his confusion and curiosity.

  “I need to speak with my father,” Hotaru said.

  “His lordship is resting.” The servant glanced nervously to the chamber door behind him. Lord Kaedemori was awake, there was no way he would have slept through the ruckus. Knowing his father, he probably had spoken with his captains about reinforcing their protections, and sent out a hunting party to capture the beast that killed Yuri.

  “It cannot wait. I must speak with him straight away.”

  The servant, trained not to argue, bowed again and followed his order, disappearing behind the sliding door. After a few moments he returned and showed Hotaru in. His father sat at the far end of the room, dressed in a white robe, and his hair cascaded across his face, softening some of the strong angles of his normally frowning expression. It was rare to see his father in such an informal setting. Though his father appeared composed, he sensed a disgruntled undercurrent radiating off him.

  He bowed to his father, then rose up and said, “Father, I apologize for the late hour, but there are urgent matters that could not wait until daylight.”

  “If this is about the girl, I’ve already received a full report from Captain Sadao.”

  “No, Father, it is not about that unfortunate soul.”

  His father scrutinized him with a dark gaze, then said, “What is it, then?”

  “That woman, the one who claims to be Nishimori, I believe she may be the one who killed Yuri.”

  His father clenched his hands on his thighs but otherwise made no other indication Hotaru’s words affected him. “You saw this yourself?” he asked.

  “No, but the men have seen a wolf sneaking into her chamber at night. She is a strange woman, unlike any noble lady I have met. She does not bow, and she often goes without sandals and shuns assistance from her maids. I approached her—”

  “You must stay away from her.” His father’s interruption startled him. His father, who lived and breathed ceremony, would never be so rude.

  He smoothed over his shock with a nod in his father’s direction, then continued, “I think my brother is under the spell of that woman. We have to do something before everything we’ve worked for comes to ruin.”

  His father steepled his fingers and did not look at Hotaru, but a vein jumped along his jaw as if he was biting down on his words. What did his father want to say that he hesitated to speak? True, his father had never sought Hotaru’s counsel, but his father had never seemed more vulnerable or more afraid than he did in that moment. We are certainly in danger if even my father fears Lady Nishimori.

  “Father?”

  “I will see to this. Now go back to your room and speak of this matter to no one. Do you understand?”

  He stared at his father for a moment. This had not gone as he’d planned. All hopes of being the savior of the clan and exposing the Yokai were blotted out like spilled ink on parchment. He choked down his disappointment and nodded. He rose and left the chamber without another word, clenching his hands into fists.

  12

  The sliding door creaked in the track and then clicked into place. Hikaru’s father’s inner sanctum yawned before him. He took a deep breath. I am sure he just wants a report about the servant’s death. His father sat at the far end of the room on the raised dais. So many of his memories of his father were inside this room, it was almost impossible to think of him anywhere else. One day I will sit in his place; will I too look down on my own son with such disdain? Hikaru knelt down in front of his father, his hands pressed against the floor. He could feel his pulse thrumming in his fingertips. When his father did not speak, he feared the worst. Is he angry about how much time I’ve been spending with Rin? His neck ached from leaning forward and his legs trembled from kneeling. The only sound in the room was the ragged sounds of Hikaru’s breath.

  “You have brought evil into this house,” his father said.

  Though his father had not given him permission to do so, Hikaru raised his head and met his father’s gaze. “Father, what are you talking about?”

  “Do not pretend you do not know.” His words were like a whip crack.

  Hikaru flinched and lowered his gaze. His heart hammered in his chest. He knew his father did not approve of Rin, but to have him make such a blunt accusation was unlike him. The rumors about Rin had been swirling about the palace for days, but he never imagined his father, a man of reason, would fall prey to the falsehoods. Does he think Rin caused that servant’s death? The urge to defend Rin nearly overwhelmed him, and he had to keep his head down to hide his feelings from his father.

  His father spoke, unaware of the internal struggle raging inside Hikaru. “Kitsune can bring great fortune, this I know is true, but they also bring calamity.”

  He thought back to the woman who had saved him in the forest. He cannot mean Rin. There was a wild look in his father’s eyes. His clothes were disheveled and his hair, normally slicked back in a topknot, was falling into his face. Something was not right. He chose his next words carefully. “Surely you do not think there is a Kitsune in the palace. They’re not real.”

  “You have been beguiled by her, my son.” His father’s words were delivered calmly but sharp as a knife. His father glared down at him with black eyes full of accusation. Lord Kaedemori knew Rin was more than she seemed. He had known it from the moment he met her. Only Hikaru refused to acknowledge what was right in front of him.

  Hikaru swallowed past a lump in his throat. He could not believe that Kitsune were real. Perhaps his father was under an unusual amount of stress. “I do not know what you mean.”

  “Rin!” his father thundered. He stood up abruptly and the table rocked on its legs, nearly overturned by his father’s sudden movement. He loomed over Hikaru, and he saw the bags that hung under his father’s eyes and the gaunt hollow of his cheeks. How long had it been since he had slept? “She has bewitched you!”

  “Lady Nishimori and I have spent some time together, I admit it is true. But there is nothing unseemly happening. I would never risk our alliance with the Fujikawas.”

  His father pressed his lips together hard enough that they nearly disappeared among the lines surrounding his mouth. Lord Kaedemori inhaled and exhaled; a vein in his cheek jumped. He did not speak though he seemed poised on the edge of another outburst. They stood locked in a battle, Hikaru on the verge of confessing all of his concerns to his father. He ached to share his feelings to ease the burden that his secret feelings for Rin had weighed upon his shoulders. He had a wife and a duty to the clan; that, above all else, was paramount. To speak his selfish thoughts would not be proper; his father would be ashamed of Hikaru’s weakness.

  “Lady Nishimori is our kinsman’s daughter. We have a duty to make her feel welcome. I have thought only to see to her comfort. Nothing more.” Hikaru met his father’s eye, but his hands shook as he bunched them in the fabric along his thighs. With one word from his father, Rin would be cast from the palace. That’s what Lord Kaedemori wanted. Hikaru saw the desire to do so in his father’s eyes. He had to protect her; at least he
knew she would be safe back with her clan.

  “The Nishimoris and the Kaedemoris are two branches of the same family. Yet I see nothing of Lord Nishimori in Rin. What I do see is a Kitsune who has come for revenge.” Lord Kaedemori’s voice rose as he spoke. He paced back and forth, his hands clenched in the small of his back. Hikaru watched his progress. Agitation rolled off his father like a wave.

  “The Nishimoris are known to be eccentric. I know Rin does not act like most ladies—”

  “Because she is not human!” Lord Kaedemori slammed his hand onto the table. The table shook and an ink block went tumbling onto the ground along with a brush, and parchments were scattered. Hikaru scooted forward to pick them up, but a look from his father halted him and he sat back again.

  His father sank back down into his seat. Like a sack of grain with a hole in it, he seemed to be deflating. He stared at the tabletop, as if the whirling patterns in the wood would answer all of his questions. He had always been the epitome of calm and collectedness. He had never raised his voice to Hikaru before. With dark circles under his wild eyes and skin that was near translucent, Hikaru saw how fragile his father was. He will not be around forever. Could my time be coming soon? The heavy mantle of his duty weighed down upon Hikaru, suffocating him with the reality of his responsibility. Am I ready for this? He tried imagining his position reversed, sitting in his father’s spot. The men do not respect me, and until I produce an heir, my position will be in danger from Hotaru. Hikaru dragged his fingers across the rough tatami mats. The silence between his father and him was a thick miasma creating doubt in Hikaru, both in his father’s ability to rule and Hikaru’s as well.

  “What would you have me do, Father?” Hikaru asked. He had never felt more lost.

  His father looked up. His eyes were wide, the pupils just pinpoints in the center of his dark irises. “This is your mother’s revenge. This is my punishment.” He bowed his head, resting it in his palms. His father’s eyes appeared wet, but Hikaru could have been mistaken. He waited for his father to continue. He looked upon his father with new eyes. He had always seemed infallible, strong and wise. Now he only saw a broken man. Lord Kaedemori never spoke of his first wife, though Hikaru had made the mistake of asking about her once when he was very young. It was the only other time in his life he had seen his father lose control. Lord Kaedemori had struck Hikaru and told him never to speak of her again. And so from a young age he learned to never speak of the woman who had given birth to him. All he knew of her was from whispers from clansmen and taunts from Hotaru, which were probably cruel inventions meant to hurt Hikaru.

  Fearing his father’s wrath, he decided to sneak out while Lord Kaedemori was preoccupied. His father was absorbed in the past and did not notice as Hikaru slipped out. If Father is losing his mind, he will not want to step down, not willingly, but we cannot have a madman running the clan. He clenched his hands at his sides. Am I ready for this? The thought kept circling around in his head. I expected many more years before I would take up this mantle. If I were a different man, I would flee and become a priest, living a life of thoughtful tranquility.

  He opened his eyes, and the visions of a life that could never be faded, but what appeared before him was even lovelier. Rin walked along the opposite gallery, wearing a white kimono with orange leaves and red flowers. She looked like the sun goddess come to earth, brightening up an otherwise gray fall day. She frowned, and he imagined she was thinking about something that troubled her. Despite his own problems, he wanted to ease her burdens. He wanted to make her smile again. He also knew he should slip away without greeting her. When she had tried to kiss him the night before, he had been too terrified to face her. Even now, his own desire for her sparked like an ember, and every moment spent in her presence fanned the flames.

  Rin turned and saw him, and her eyes locked on him, as if they were bound together by a single red thread. He swallowed and watched transfixed as she hurried over to him. She did not take small dainty steps as so many court ladies did. She picked up the edge of her robes and ran to him, her bare feet slapping on the wood floor.

  She reached him and smiled, a bright flash of teeth against her pale face. A long dark lock of hair had fallen forward and brushed against her cheek. He wanted to push it back just to have an excuse to touch her face. But that would be inappropriate. Every moment they spent alone was a scandal waiting to happen. The clan’s treaty with the Fujikawas was tenuous at best. She tilted her head and very gently touched his cheek. Even when he tried to push her away, she was always reaching for him, trying to offer him comfort he did not deserve. He had a wife and a duty to his family to uphold. But even so, he relished the feel of her soft hand against his cheek. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away.

  “Do you worry for me, my lady? I do not want to trouble you. I have had a trying morning is all. But I am already beginning to recover.”

  She smiled as if she knew what troubled him and understood. She seemed to have an uncanny ability to read his thoughts. Could she be a Kitsune? In this light he was almost certain she was the same woman. If that woman had been real and not a figment of his imagination. If only I could hear her voice, I could be sure. He wanted to shake himself; perhaps his father’s ravings were catching.

  She pointed at him, then pressed her fingers to her temple. You can tell me what’s on your mind, that is how he interpreted her mime.

  He grinned. I’m being silly. Rin is not a Kitsune. There is no such thing. “It is nothing a lady would find of interest, just matters of estate.”

  She gave him a coy smile in return. Let me decide that, she seemed to be saying.

  He sighed and said, “I do not know how you can coerce me without words. It is as if you have some magic way about you.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, but the smile did not leave her face.

  “I fear my father is unwell. I went to speak with him about the murder and he raved about Kitsunes.” Hikaru shook his head.

  Rin touched her chest. He thinks it’s me?

  Hikaru looked away from her. “He is under a lot of pressure is all.”

  She touched Hikaru lightly on the shoulder. And it amazed him how such an innocent brush could speak so much. He desired her; that much was plain. But if it had been a simple matter of lust, he would have been able to squash the feelings. It went deeper than that, he wanted all of her. He wanted to know her thoughts, to learn all her secrets. He wanted her as a wife. As the thought manifested itself, it could not be undone. It formed, taking shape as a jagged shard inside his heart. The only thing that could cure him would be to take her into his arms and press his lips to hers. She could never be his, so instead he tactfully stepped out of her reach, but turned to face her.

  “My mother, I am told, exhibited similar symptoms before her death. I have heard it told that my father had to lock her up at the end. I was too young to remember it. But they say she was possessed by a Kitsune. That cannot be true, though, can it?”

  He never intended to reveal this much about his past. He had spent his entire life running from it, and without warning it had come out unbidden. There was something about Rin that put him at ease, and he felt he could reveal even his deepest secrets to her. A strange emotion flickered across her expression. Perhaps it was alarm or maybe fear, but it was so quickly gone he could not be certain. She drew close to him. He was acutely aware of the distance between them, or lack thereof, and the scent of jasmine that clung to her skin. Without thinking, he tucked the hair he had noticed before behind her ear. When he moved to pull his hand away, she grabbed his hand and kissed the palm. He stood like that for a moment, her lips against his skin. He savored it before he gently pulled away.

  “Excuse me, my lady, I should be going.” This is dangerous. Perhaps I am bewitched.

  13

  Rin approached the shrine and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She’d sought this place looking for solace. As a human, her connection with the mystic world of the Yo
kai had been severed. And as such, she felt the ache of its loss like a hole that had been carved out of her chest. It was growing larger every day, threatening to consume her. As she drew closer to the shrine, the feeling of unease settled in her gut like a stone. The witch had taken Rin’s ability to sense her own kind when she turned her into a human, but this place had a hollow dead feeling to it that even as a human she could sense. She could see why the humans thought it was haunted.

  Covered verandas boxed it in on all sides. An overgrown maple tree shaded the space, casting long eerie shadows over the ground. The ground consisted of packed earth. Nothing grew apart from the tree. This is not right. If a Kami resided here, everything would be in bloom. The sunbaked earth warmed the soles of her feet as she crept closer. What have they done to cast out even the gods?

  Rin looked over her shoulder, her body tense. The four pillars at each corner of the courtyard had markings carved into the wood. She did not know much of the written human word, but all Yokai knew what these words meant. They were binding spells. Someone kept a Yokai here.

  When Hikaru had told her the story about his mother, it had disquieted her, and she thought back to Hotaru’s tour. Humans often tried to explain away what they could not comprehend. A Kitsune could not possess a human body, but a Kitsune could take on the form of a human. She felt compelled to learn more about his mother; who was she? Her quest led her here, and now, standing in this desolate place, she almost wished she had not come at all. It would have been better to let this ghost lie.

  Perhaps she had been hoping to find a reason in all this madness. Why was the witch trying to stop their treaty? Why was there so much hate in their family? Why could she not get Hikaru out of her head? The gooseflesh rose along her arms. Rin crossed them over her chest, but nothing seemed to abate the unearthly chill. She had never thought about the humans keeping Yokai until the witch trapped her. Am I not the first to fall victim to the witch?