MONSTERS ARE WORDS

THE FOUR TAILED FOX- 005 Somewhat of an Explanation

It's all fuzzy, like if you put a shadow in a blender.

Chomp chomp chomp. <Biting the hand that feeds you? An Inu-gami—Dog-god, isn't out of the question. But you're sure Satori? No mistake?>

"No. No mistake. I looked it up. Mrs. Decker is the owner, not Mr. Decker."

<Ah. What wonderous a time for womankind.> Maé mused, sipping her saké under my calendar, I seated at my desk, scrolling through my computer <Who would have ever thought it possible? A woman owning a store would have been unheard of in Edo, what a far cry this time is from then.>

"Oh, yeah, it's not all sunshine but there are bright sides to be sure." I said, spinning in my chair to face Maé. "Women are equal to men now...sometimes... Anyway, are you sure?"

<Oh, yes. There is no doubt.>

Maé let her tails dance about her, casting strange shadows on the wall.

<There is most definitely a Yokai at work in that store.>

"Why?" I was still doubtful despite Maé's insistence, "I still don't get it."

<You don't? Well, why don't you recount. If you frame it in just the right way, perhaps the occultic atmosphere will make itself apparent to you. Though the flame be put out, the wick remains. Hee hee! Count the plates and search for the well, as it were.>

"Right...whatever that means."

Though not fully up on what Maé was thinking or talking about, I did as she asked. Sitting in my room with the fox, I threw my mind back to the events of earlier.

After the crash and the dead—ha—silence that accompanied it, I'd dashed over to aisle eight, fully expecting to find the young lady's corpse, only to find her alive and well—cradling her head, blood in her platinum hair—but otherwise ok. Mr. Decker was sweeping up the glass strewn all about her, his face strained, (probably thinking about that all important liability) teeth grinding together if he were biting back a rage of some kind.

The story he had told was that the girl had tried to get a bottle of wine off the top shelf and knocked it down while he was looking through the canned goods down low for the cans with the longest lasting expiration date. The girl didn't bother to say anything before running out of the store, the crowd gathering to view the spectacle she had made apparently so mortifying her mouth had been sealed shut.

Mrs. Decker had escorted me up to the register and checked me out quick as you like, her smile never fading, her eyes ever twinkling, her patches and buttons grinning and waving, not a word about the incident passing between us.

I had not received a booming goodbye as I had exited Decker's All-Natural Grocer, either.

Biking home right away without any kind of a stop, I had prepared Maé something of an edible meal, the fox herself having no clue how to cook (royalty for you), using instruction I had found off the internet. Maé (for some reason) had been impressed with my cooking skill, praising me many times for the richness of the flavor, something to do with the olive oil I'd imagine (combined with modern cookware), and had devoured my meal with clear delight and without complaint.

My parents were pulling a night shift, so they weren't expected home any time soon and were generally hands off with me anyway, which left Maé and I the run of the house and the freedom to converse with vigor without the worry of being overheard or having to explain why there was a bottle of saké in my room (open, but I had politely declined to partake). We had even had dinner in the lounge, Maé fairly enchanted with my beanbag chair, watching an episode or two of Modern Family before retiring to my room upstairs, Maé striking up the conversation over the flames of madness that had been lit in Decker's with a casual tone and apathetic eyes, spewing another obfuscated line along the lines of: