A Hound Should Never Want for a Fox

Chapter 2

Sometime in the past one hundred and fifty years, humans had made all manner of interesting discoveries. The most impressive of which was their printing press. As a fox, I darted around the massive machine, the scent of ink filling my nose. I left a clone with the baby—I only had so much patience for teething infants—so I could satisfy my curiosity. The books lining the shelves were filled with even, regulated characters, each tome holding as much as a dozen handwritten scrolls. Incredible. And there were books on every topic imaginable! From history to child rearing to sex to chakra! If a human could think of it, it had a book! So fascinating. I had half a mind to send a few back home for the elders to read, but doing so would cause a traceable chakra fluctuation and I wasn't ready to reveal myself, yet—if I ever would. This village was riddled with fresh wounds and stank with fox shaped bitterness.

Yet another reason I was the best for the job. Little Natsu would have been killed by now.

Voices floated through the building and I jumped out the window, a book on human babies held gently between my teeth. Humans rarely lived past one hundred, so their milestones happened much faster than a fox kit's. Of course, my baby was unlike most humans, but having some kind of standard would come in handy.

Over the past few weeks, I had come to realize an unfortunate truth. My baby had been abandoned. Oh, sure, there was a whole gaggle of humans dedicated to keeping it alive, but that was all they did. Most of them balked at even standing in the same room as it, let alone touching it. Children needed affection! They needed pets and baths and nonsense noises, not whatever silent vigil the human guards insisted on keeping. I had a sneaking suspicion that guarding my baby was some kind of punishment. The guards were always changing, with repeat assignments happening only rarely with one notable exception.

I landed on a roof with silent paws. The night was hours old and at first glance the village was dead asleep. My ears swiveled on my head, catching the nigh imperceptible noises of movement. Insects ate away at wood, rats rummaged through refuse, shinobi moved through shadows. A half moon gave off enough light for even humans to see by, let alone me, so I had no trouble watching the village's soldiers jumping to and fro like fleas on a dog. They, of course, could not see me. Deceiving humans was almost embarrassingly easy. It only took a simple three level illusion to keep them from seeing, hearing, or smelling me. I could go anywhere I wanted, do anything, and no one would notice. It was honestly a little disappointing. Once upon a time, back during my youth, shinobi were suspicious, territorial creatures. Their descendants were...less so. Lulled into complacency by high walls and young alliances, ninja slept easily despite the fox trotting across their rooftops.

A ninja landed on the roof next to me with a low thud. At first, I paid it no heed and continued on my way, but it...followed me? I turned to look at it and found myself being watched by burning red eyes. My hackles rose and I had to bury the urge to growl. Those eyes...I didn't like them. Not one bit. It was as though they could see me despite the cocoon of chakra I'd wrapped myself in. I added more layers to my illusion almost frantically. Instead of just erasing my own scent, I smothered it in the smell of grass and trees and the night. I added the sound of chirping insects to cover the silence of my steps. The dappled light of the moon passed right through me and hit the roof tiles under us both, the shinobi's shadow reaching past my feet. I held very still, dividing my attention between the red eyed shinobi and my illusions. After a moment, it looked away from me.

"What's the matter?"

Before I could relax, another voice cut through the night from behind me. I didn't dare move. Humans hadn't posed a threat to me since I reached my hundredth year, but this one...this one was dangerous. Even more so, if the other had the same eyes. Something about those tomoe spinning lazily in red irises left me feeling very naked.

The one in front of me shook its head. "Nothing. I thought I saw a genjutsu...but there's nothing here."

The other one scoffed. "Yeah, well, that's the point of genjutsu, right? To be undetectable?"

"Not to a sharingan."

Sharingan. That name meant nothing to me, but I made sure to memorize it.

"Exactly! Come on, Hiro, you don't actually think someone was stupid enough to try and use a genjutsu on the Uchiha compound, right?"

"Hn."

Both shinobi jumped down from the roof and resumed what could only be a patrol. I typically ignored the movements and appearances of humans, but I took a long careful look at the one who'd nearly identified me. It and its companion wore matching high collared yukatas with a two toned fan embroidered on the back. That same symbol was painted on the walls of the neighborhood around her, carved into wooden pillars, etcetera, etcetera. Really, it was a testament to my own arrogance that I hadn't noticed it before now.

Note to self, avoid the Fan District.

After making doubly sure there were no shinobi around me, I ran away. That's right, I admit it. I was afraid and I ran. I knew absolutely nothing about 'Uchihas' and 'sharingans'. An oversight I would need to rectify.

As I drew nearer to the den where my baby waited, the wild beating of my heart began to calm. It wouldn't do to send the child into a fit because I was wound too tight. I needed to relax. Relax. Breathe. In and out. In—!

Wait a second.

I jumped down from the rooftops into an alley beside the den. There, sitting on top of a pile of rubbish, was my clone. The stuffed fox lifted one rice filled paw at me like a tragic hero on its deathbed before disintegrating. I glared at my own golden hair where it glinted in the moonlight.

Who dared?

I ran up the side of the building and into the den through the tiny crack in the window. On all fours, I balanced on the cot and looked down at my baby. It was sleeping peacefully, arms wrapped around a little stuffed dog.

Oh, so that's who.

I took another deep breath and assumed my human form. I spat out the book I stole and grimaced. There were four evenly spaced punctures running clean through the many layers of paper. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I needed another book.

Whatever. That could wait. This could not. I cooed softly as I reached down and pulled the stuffed dog away from my baby. With a snap of my fingers, I took its place, snuggling in close to my baby with a triumphant grin. The offensive toy was thrown across the room and into the opposite wall. It landed on the floor in a heap.

Served it right.

🦊🦊🦊

The apartment was haunted. That was the only explanation. How else would the yellow fox toy he'd explicitly thrown out have returned to Naruto's cot while the perfectly good stuffed Pakkun lay abandoned on the floor, clearly a victim of extreme and unnecessary violence? He picked the dog up off the ground and gave it a once over. It was still in one piece, at least.

He turned to glare at the little fox toy. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to get him to let you go? Now I have to start all over."

The fox said nothing, but he could have sworn he saw amusement in its blue button eyes. He opened his mouth to continue scolding it but then caught himself.

What was he doing? It was just a toy. It couldn't understand him.

...could it?

He walked over to the cot and place the stuffed dog next to Naruto—on the other side from the fox, of course...wouldn't want to step on any imaginary toes... "You can share."

Apparently, the fox took that as a challenge. The next time he had guard duty, Pakkun was on the floor and there were two foxes in the cot.

Oh, so that's how it was going to be? Well, he knew how to play that game, too.