Shadow of The Fox (Shadow of the Fox #1) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,55

“Master Isao taught kindness and patience in all things, especially when one was injured,” I went on. “He said that caring for the spirit was just as important as caring for the body.” Looking into Tatsumi’s blank, emotionless face, I had a sudden, heartbreaking insight. “No one has ever showed you any kindness before, have they?”

“Your wound is bleeding,” Tatsumi stated, making me start and glance down at my leg, where a trickle of red was starting to crawl down my skin. Before it could drip to the floor, Tatsumi swiftly pressed a cloth to the cut, making me grit my teeth, and all conversation stopped as he cleaned and bandaged the gash. He might have been a little less rough, but he was not gentle.

Thankfully, food arrived soon after: bowls of rice, trays of pickled cabbage and a deep black pot that, when the top was removed, revealed a steaming array of vegetables, meat and bubbling broth that made my stomach leap in excitement. Tatsumi called it a nabe—a hot pot—and I gorged myself until I couldn’t eat another mushroom. But the night’s danger wasn’t yet over. When the meal was finished and the tray removed, my face stared back at me from the table’s lacquered surface: yellow eyes and pointed ears reflected in the dark wood. Fortunately at that moment, Tatsumi had been watching the maid depart, and didn’t see the flash of kitsune in the room with him. I retreated to a corner, claiming my wound was throbbing, and stayed far away from the table and its treacherous shiny surface.

Not long after, the maid arrived to pull the futons from the closet and lay them out on the floor, and I crawled beneath the blankets as Tatsumi put out the light. After secretly making sure the lacquered case was safe and secured in my furoshiki, I lay in the darkness for a long time, thinking about kamaitachi, wind witches and various demons who wanted the scroll.

And Tatsumi. Kage Tatsumi, the demonslayer of the Shadow Clan. A boy who didn’t know the first thing about kindness, compassion or mercy. Who was ruthless, dangerous and would kill anyone—human, demon or yokai—that got in our way. Who didn’t realize that the exact thing he wanted, the entire reason for his mission, was sitting not ten feet from him. If he ever discovered I had the scroll...

I shivered and clutched the wrap a little tighter to my chest, feeling the hard length of the scroll case within. I knew I should be afraid of him; there was no doubt that he would kill me if he found out I’d been lying to him. Not only about the scroll, but about my true nature, as well. Even if I was only half yokai, I doubted the demonslayer of the Shadow Clan would take kindly to a kitsune who had been pretending to be human this whole time.

Tatsumi was dangerous, I understood that. But, at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel...sorry for him. He didn’t know how to laugh, or smile, or have any fun. He didn’t know the pleasures of the simple things—laughing, dancing, finding beauty in the world. It seemed like a very boring existence. The brief bout of dancing tonight had certainly lifted my spirits, and I knew Master Isao and the others wouldn’t want me to be miserable. I wondered if I could show Tatsumi that there was more to life. Then maybe he wouldn’t be so cold and scary. It certainly wouldn’t hurt for him to smile a little. I would just have to be careful about it.

Tatsumi, I noticed, did not lie down on the futon but chose to sit in the corner, facing the door, with his sword propped on one leg. And when I awoke early the next morning, he was still there.

12

The Demon Bear of Suimin Mori

The next morning, the fabricated magic of Chochin Machi had faded with the night.

Yumeko and I left at dawn, departing the ryokan before the sun rose over the distant hills. In the gray pre-morning light, the streets were nearly deserted, the floating red lanterns dark and lifeless. The shops, too, were closed and dark; I had slipped out of the inn the night before to buy supplies for the journey, refilling my rice pouch and purchasing enough nonperishable food to last several days. My supply of coin was dwindling, however, especially with the unexpected stop at the inn. If I’d been alone, I wouldn’t have