To top it all off, she had been stuck at school last night because someone had stolen her car. Her car! Stolen! It was absolutely unbelievable! The nerve of some people!
Of course, it had been inexplicably returned to her that morning—even though she couldn’t remember how or when. She’d just woken up to find herself lying on her bed, unable to remember when she’d gone to sleep, and her car sitting out front. There seemed to be a large gap in her memory that she couldn’t explain.
She blamed Lilian.
If all of that wasn't enough, then she and the other teachers now had even more work to do. Most people wouldn’t understand how that worked. They were teachers, right? How could they work if there was no one around to teach and no papers to grade?
The truth was that, with school being closed down for the unforeseeable future, all of the teachers had to scrap and redo their previous lesson plans in order to fit this new, unprecedented situation.
Some had more work than others. Ms. Vis was actually lucky in that regard. She only needed to move a good portion of the school work over to make room for an extra week’s worth of reviews. Some of the other teachers—especially those who were in charge of clubs or sports—had a lot more work to do.
She knew that Coach Deretaine was currently in meetings to see what could be done about keeping their track team going through the potentially long hiatus. Apparently, not even the utter annihilation of the gym would keep him from running his students ragged.
Just because Ms. Vis didn't have much work to do did not mean that she couldn’t, or wouldn't, complain—she did, with great fervor in fact. She complained to anyone who was willing to listen.
At the moment, only one person had the misfortune of being the recipient of her current tirade. Professor Nabui, the Social Sciences teacher.
His short, combed back black hair was flecked with gray to give him a very distinguished look. Despite his prematurely-graying hair, the man held a youthful appearance. It was quite clear that he kept himself in good physical shape from the way his suit fit him, showing off his broad shoulders, and straining against his pectorals. He honestly didn't look anything like a teacher, even if he did wear a pair of studious-looking glasses over his sharp, hawkish eyes.
“That little cretin stole my car! It couldn't have been anyone else! Only she and Mr. Swift were here so long after school hours!” Ms. Vis continued ranting about Lilian. “I'm certain that girl was responsible for the damage done to the school as well! Oooh! Just thinking about that horrid child gets me so riled up!” The crazed math teacher raised a clenched fist up to her face, her irises burning with an inner fire, one that took on the physical manifestation of flames behind her eyes. “Just you wait, Lilian Pnév̱ma! Once I get some dirt on you, you'll be gone for good! For good!”
Before Ms. Vis could continue ranting, Professor Nabui stood up from the small chair that he had been occupying, the leaflets that he had been reading in hand. The pale-skinned, vampire-esque woman looked up at her older compatriot with a startled glance, having not expected him to stand so suddenly.
“Are you leaving, Professor Nabui?”
“Yes, I have to put the grades for these reports in my computer,” the Japanese professor informed the crazy teacher slowly. His accent was so thick that people often had trouble understanding him, which explained why he spoke at a snail's pace.
“I understand. I should probably do that as well. Take care.”
“You, too.”
With hardly a backwards glance, Professor Nabui walked out of the teachers' lounge, gently closing the door behind him and beginning the leisurely walk back to his classroom. It was a nice day outside. The air was crisp and cool. The cloudless September sky was a light azure blue, and the sun’s rays didn’t seem to affect the cool temperature. There was no sense in rushing on such a beautiful day.
Still, all good things must come to an end, and Professor Nabui eventually arrived at his classroom. Unlocking the door and entering, he closed it behind him and quickly re-locked it. After taking a second to ensure that the room was secure, he made his way behind his desk and sat down.
He then picked up the phone, placed it against his ear, and began carefully dialing a number that he hadn't used since coming to work at this school.
The phone began to ring. After several seconds of this ringing, someone answered.
“Taka-kuuuunnn!” A voice squealed from the other end. Professor Nabui winced as he jerked the phone away from his ear.
“Do you really have to scream into the phone?” asked the now-disgruntled Nabui. “And don’t call me Taka-kun. We are not familiar enough for you to even think of adding that suffix… and you are not Japanese.”
“Muu,” the female voice on the other end moaned in complaint. “You’re so cruel, Taka-kun.”
“That isn’t my name!” Professor Nabui took a deep breath. “I am Agent Inagumi Takashi, ID number 22AD10001. Not Taka-kun.”
“I like Taka-kun better,” the perky female voice said. Nabui, or Takashi, twitched. “Ne, ne, Taka-kun—”
“It’s Takashi!”
“What are you calling for anyway? You know better than to call me at this time. I’m playing Air right now, and you know I don’t like it when people interrupt me while I’m playing a visual novel.”
“I wish you’d stop playing those eroge,” Takashi sighed. “And this is important.”
“Hmm, important enough to interrupt my ero-ero time?”
Takashi twitched at his superior’s words. By all eight-million Shinto gods, he hated it when she talked like this. “As a matter of fact, yes. I have discovered another yōkai that I believe our superiors will be interested in; a student who just transferred here one week and four days ago.”
“Really? Ha, well, I suppose that is important enough to interrupt me. Just make it fast, okay? I’ve got important stuff to do.”
“Right.”
Takashi rolled his eyes. His free hand grabbed hold of his desk’s top left drawer handle, which he pulled back to reveal several dozen files inside. He reached in and felt around. There was a deft click as he hit the catch that opened a hidden compartment. He then pulled out a file titled, Subject LP, and placed it on the desk. Opening the file revealed the student transcript for a beautiful girl with red hair and green eyes.
“I have reason to suspect that she is a kitsune. Her name is Lilian Pnév̱ma.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brandon Varnell first got into writing when he was in college. Before that, he wanted to be a video game designer—until he realized that he couldn't make a video game to save his life. And before that, he wanted to be a rock star—until he realized that sex, drugs and rock-n-roll stopped being a thing in the 80s. His life has been filled with ups and downs and various moments of ADHD driven high-jinks. It wasn't until he discovered his love for writing that his mind gained the focus necessary to commit himself to something as a possible career choice. When not sitting in front of his computer typing, he can usually be found watching anime or reading a variety of books, manga and Japanese light novels. He also enjoys taking long walks on the beach, watching the sun set and… you're not even reading this anymore, are you?
A Fox's Tail (American Kitsune Book 2) Page 33