A Hound Should Never Want for a Fox

Chapter 1

The child was very small.

It looked up at me with oddly solemn blue eyes. I blinked at it, it blinked back. I cocked my head, and a lock of my blonde hair fell over my shoulder into the cot. The baby reached out with a single chubby hand and gripped it, tugging with surprising strength. I bared my teeth at it in warning and its adorably round face scrunched with upset.

Oh no.

I leaned in closer, shushing it gently as I used nimble fingers to free my hair. Tears welled up in its blue eyes and I blew on its face softly. It did not like that.

I winced and pinned back my ears as it began screeching at the top of its little baby lungs. Panic filled me with the urge to run, but my training overrode it and I instead snapped my fingers and transformed into a stuffed toy fox. My new body landed on the hard surface of the cot and fell onto its side. I dared not move or breathe even when the infant reached out to grab me. Humans were protective of their offspring, particularly when it came to nonhuman threats. Any moment, someone would come to comfort the child and I couldn't leave just yet.

I had a mission to complete.

The infant brought one of my pointed ears to its lips, gnawing on me with toothless gums—! Ok, not so toothless, then. It began to quiet down on its own and when no adult humans entered the room, I released my transformation. The infant looked up at me with surprise, mouth still latched onto my knuckle. With my free hand, I plucked a single golden hair from my head and let it fall. The hair twisted and expanded until a little golden fox fell in its place. The clone landed on silent paws and darted into the shadows.

"Oh, little one," I said softly, my quiet voice filling the bare room. "Where are your keepers, hm?"

Almost a hundred years had passed since I last walked the human realm. So much had changed since then, more than in the thousand years before. It was hard to wrap my head around, but it would be even harder for some of the older foxes back home. That was why I was chosen for this, after all. I was young and my memories of the human world recent. Not fresh, by any means, but...recent enough, for my purposes.

The infant cooed up at me around my finger. I smiled for a moment before reaching down to pick it up, clawed hands freezing around its middle when a wild, raging chakra brushed against my own.

Ah, so there it was.

I lifted the child and cradled it gently against my chest. I had little experience holding children in my human form, but I'd seen it done plenty of times. I had no issue cradling its little head, its blond hair soft against my calloused fingers. I took a deep breath and held it, memorizing the infant's scent. It would take it longer to do the same, especially since it was human, but it would happen in due time. I wasn't going anywhere soon.

I let out my breath and a small wave of chakra with it. As expected, the seal on the child's soul ignited with recognition—and rage. The infant began to cry again, but my clone had yet to send any warnings. It seemed as though the baby had been abandoned. Odd, but not wholly unexpected.

Foxes were hardly welcome in human societies, after all.

I shushed the child and rocked it the way I'd seen human mothers do, withdrawing my chakra. The seal was still too fresh for me to speak with the great beast caged inside. I would need to wait for the child's chakra system to mature a bit more—and for the beast's rage to mellow—before I tried again.

I carried the child out into the hall and found that the rest of the small home was as bare as the bedroom. The whole place hummed with a strange energy and my ears swiveled atop my head trying to find its source. From my surface analysis of the village, I had learned that humans had somehow managed to harness lightning to power all manner of things. Namely light, but I couldn't indulge in my curiosity now. The child was hungry.

It took me longer than I cared to admit to find the milk, and even longer to realize I needed to add water—who came up with the idea of drying milk? After that, I grabbed hold of everything I could find, reading instructions and ingredient lists and warning labels as the child ate greedily. My nose caught the scents of several humans, but none lingered long enough to leave a significant impression. None except...a dog? Ew.

I scoffed. "Well, you're getting quite the upgrade, aren't you?"

The child chugged noisily at its bottle, nose wrinkled as it tried to inhale the milk. When was the last time it ate for it to be so desperate?

I sighed and leaned against the bare and dusty counter. It was a good thing I was the one assigned to this little one, even if it did go against all protocol and tradition for a grown fox to return to the human world like this. Natsu, my adorable little nephew, would not be able to help this. Only someone with a human form could do what needed to be done for this child.

I tapped its nose, mindful of my claws. "You're very lucky, little one."

It responded by soiling itself.

So, so lucky.

🦊🦊🦊

When Kakashi finally found the courage to return to the apartment where...where he was living. He crouched on the rooftop, time moving too fast and not at all. A voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Obito screamed at him to move, to go inside and do something for once, instead of wallowing in his melancholy. His heart beat loudly in his ears, urging him onward even as his muscles atrophied. The world around him faded away, abandoning him to the panic rising in his gut. Bile began clawing its way up his throat, burning him from the inside out. His bones shook under the weight of his own inaction. He had to move. He had to move. He had to move.

MOVE.

A baby's cry split the night, pulling him out of the void. His breath came in painful, heaving gasps. He shunshined into the apartment, spurred forth by the very real possibility that something was wrong. If anything happened to him, if he left, too, then...then..

The bedroom was as empty as it ever was, the cot against the wall the only furniture. He approached it with shaky steps. The blond child lying in it was still and quiet, but his chest rose and fell evenly with the deep breaths of sleep. Kakashi slumped, gravity pulling his body down with renewed strength. He reached out and leaned his weight on the cot, the wood cracking in his grip. A deep, slow breath told him that no one but his fellow Anbu had entered the apartment and one of them had fed and changed the baby. There was nothing for Kakashi to do, here.

He looked down at the child, feeling bitterly naked behind his mask. He was only a few weeks old, but there was already a strong resemblance to his mother. Kakashi's heart ached at the thought of the red headed princess. She would be so angry if she knew how her son was living without her. Shame burned in his chest, but it was a familiar pain.

Kakashi turned to leave the room—to escape the memories—and something caught his eye. Clutched tightly in the baby's hand was a plush toy fox, the yellow fabric of its ear soaked through with saliva. Blue button eyes looked dolefully up at him and anger boiled up inside him. Who did this? Was this supposed to be some kind of joke? He reached in to take the offensive toy and burn it—!

Painfully familiar blue eyes opened. Kakashi held his breath, terrified. The baby tugged on the fox, pulling it out of Kakashi's fingers with a mulish expression.

"N-Naruto," he stammered. "You need to give that to me."

The baby's brows furrowed as if he understood him.

"Please." His voice did not crack. "Give me the fox."

Naruto's eyes began to water. His little lip quivered.

"No, no, no," he shushed the baby desperately. "It's ok, it's ok. You can keep it."

He pulled his hands away from the fox, holding them up to show they were empty. Naruto pulled the fox up to his mouth and began chewing on its ear, triumphant. Kakashi sighed. He'd find another opportunity to take it. For now, though, he had to admit defeat.

For now.