A Hound Should Never Want for a Fox

Chapter 9

The sigh that left me as I crossed the threshold into my den was thick with relief and heavy with fatigue. My baby, fully in his 'mirroring phase', echoed me, the sound entirely out of place coming from such a young child. I chuckled softly at him where he nuzzled his round little face against my chest.

"Is that right? Maybe I should tell Tsume no, next time, hm?"

"Baba."

His determined tone put a smile on my face. "You're right. Kiba will be sad if his favorite little fox isn't there. All of the other babies are too squishy."

It was a strange thing to take pride in, but I did all the same. The dog woman, Tsume, was quick to invite me into the oddly large circle of new shinobi mothers in the village. Though my identity as both a 'civilian' and a 'foreigner' made things a bit strained at first, my baby's ability to not only withstand little Kiba's tough play but return it in kind had quickly endeared us both to the group. As loath as I was to get involved with so many humans, I had to admit the playdates were an excellent source of information. Most—if not all—of the mothers belonged to major Clans. All I had to do was smile and nod as they complained about their husbands, about the price of imported tea, about Clan policies, etc. A hundred years ago, I would have sold my tails for such a font of information.

Now, it was just exhausting.

What was the point in knowing the tensions between the Head of the Hyūga Clan and his twin brother had only escalated since the birth of his daughter? How could I possibly use the fact that the Uchiha Clan was growing ever more insular, to the point that a 'Mikoto' was no longer attending the playdates with her children? Who cared that political unrest in the lands once governed by a dead village in the west was affecting the price of vital medicinal herbs?

It's not like I had anyone to report it to. Not anymore.

A tiny yawn brought me out of my melancholy and I bounced my baby in apology. I carried him to the nursery and settled him down in the ironwood crib Tsume recommended to me—a godsend, truly—and cooed softly as he buried himself in his toys. There were a few of my clones in there, along with exactly one (1) dog and a frog I didn't remember adding. Naturally, the foxes were his favorites, no matter how my dog tried to sway his loyalties. He was a good little baby, yes he was.

I left the nursery door open behind me as I headed for the kitchen. The cabinets were stocked with all kinds of powdered milks and soft foods for my baby, as well as a few clones, just in case.

It was a wonder I hadn't gone bald.

I leaned against the counter and sighed. This was not what I imagined when I agreed to watch over the Grand Elder's new prison. My first summoner was already walking and talking when I made a contract with her, over a century ago. Though she was young, she could at least take care of herself. Which was a good thing, as I didn't yet have a human form at the time. No, a fox could take no human form until...

I shook my head and sighed again. Had I known I would become a mother regardless, I might have stayed in the Summoning Realm.

The seals I put in place around the den let off a silent alarm only I could feel. Unaware that his arrival had been announced, my dog crawled through the window I left unlocked to accommodate his strange aversion for doors. The corners of my lips curled up, a greeting on the tip of my tongue.

"Where have you been?"

My smile wilted before it could fully bloom. Instead, my lips curled back and bared my pointed teeth. An expression I could sense he was mirroring behind his black mask. "Excuse me?"

His one visible eye was ablaze with the anger unique to teenage humans. He stomped over to me, footsteps still silent despite his obvious rage. I could feel the heat radiating off him as he stopped to loom over me. Or, try to loom. It was hard to be intimidated by a child, no matter how tall he was. Though he had grown into himself over the last two years, he was still just a boy. No amount of looming would change that.