The Fox and the Merchant

Apprehension

Ichiro adjusted his hat as he trailed behind the monk known as Ginji. His stomach growled in displeasure, wanting to be filled with more than just the rice and radish soup he'd eaten for breakfast.

Even so, he remembered his earlier plea to the universe and knew that all hardship would have to be tolerated from now on. It wouldn't do for him to be selfish either, so Ichiro decided to ask about Kumiko in the most indirect way he could.

"Are there other people who live on this mountain, by any chance?" he asked upon catching up to Ginji. "There was someone I met before finding your temple."

Ginji glanced back at him. "None, as far as we know. Are you sure this person wasn't from somewhere else?"

Ichiro remembered how Kumiko had mentioned having neighbors. If what this monk said was true, he couldn't have parted ways with her further up the mountain. Something wasn't making sense, and he had to find out why.

"I suppose it's possible but unlikely." He quickened his pace just to stay abreast with Ginji. "Do you know of a girl named Kumiko?"

"No," Ginji replied without turning his head. "There are no women residing in or near our temple."

"Oh." Ichiro didn't want to believe that his memories were false, so he persisted. "Are you sure?"

Ginji's shoulders stiffened as he stopped and turned to face Ichiro completely. "May I ask what this Kumiko looks like? Was she lascivious or deceitful in any way?" he asked while fiddling with his rosary beads.

"She was quite pretty, but her hair was as black as any other person's," Ichiro answered, hoping he wouldn't agitate Ginji more. "And I would say that she was more lonely than lascivious."

"I see." Ginji turned away and slowly resumed walking. "She sounds human enough, but you should still be wary. Kitsune are wise enough to learn from their mistakes, so much so that they may find new ways to fool men."

Ichiro swallowed as he contemplated those words of warning and remembered the kisses and touches that he'd shared with Kumiko. She surely couldn't be a kitsune when she did not match Ginji's description. Moreover, legend told that such beings could suck away a human's life force through prolonged physical contact. If this were the case, then he should have died as a result of their time together.

The fact that he was still alive was evidence enough of her being human. Perhaps she and her neighbors were nothing but survivors who had taken refuge on this mountain, either by building houses anew or making an abandoned village their home. It would also make sense for them to keep their residence a secret so that enemies wouldn't know where to look.

See, everything has a mundane explanation, Ichiro reassured himself as he followed Ginji around another turn and finally saw a distant meadow through the gaps between each tree. Beyond that landscape were scattered clusters of peasant huts, which led him to realize that it had been years since he'd last been in the presence of farmers.

Their existence was one fraught with danger, for the nearby fields were a common battleground for opposing samurai, and their villages were easy targets for pillagers or bandits.

Ichiro could not imagine living like that when he came from a coastal town that was mostly immune to the strife of war. In fact, some even claimed that an invasion by pirates or nanban was more likely these days. He swallowed while reconsidering the security of his own home. At the same time that peasants had to fear violence from inland, people like him could not afford to ignore the dangers that the sea could bring.

I suppose no place is ever truly safe. Even a mountain stronghold...

******

The sun was heading towards the west, which let Kumiko know it was early afternoon by the time she reached the foot of the mountain. She slowed down and sniffed the air with her snout to determine if Ichiro was still around, then twitched upon detecting the faint smell of tea and old bandages.

Her heart pounded like a drum as she sped off again. Lord Tengu's harsh order repeated in her mind to the point of torture, and no amount of willpower could shake those cruel words into oblivion.

I... I wish it didn't have to come to this, but I don't have a choice. I'm sorry, Ichiro...

She kept running while convincing herself that all would be right if she could put aside emotion and perform the simple task of ending a man's life.

A single snap of his neck would ensure that, but Kumiko soon found herself haunted by how Ichiro's broken body would look crumpled at her feet. A sick feeling welled up in her stomach and throat as she imagined the glassy eyes that would never again observe the world with wonder and the arms that would no longer be able to hold her close.

She came to a complete stop before shaking her head in despair. Lord Tengu wanted Ichiro's corpse as proof, and she knew from experience that he would devour the young merchant just as he had done with the other humans brought to him.

This was something Kumiko could not stand for, even if she were to follow through with her duty. A man like Ichiro deserved all the proper funeral rites and a chance to be reborn as someone more powerful or prosperous.

There had to be a way to appeal to Lord Tengu's kindness when the time came if only to mitigate the pain and ensure that Ichiro didn't continue to suffer after death. 

It was the least she could do when he'd made her feel a pleasure sweeter than any she could achieve on her own.

******

Historical Note: 'Nanban' means southern barbarian. It was a term once used to describe foreigners from places south of Japan but came to refer to European traders as well.