Duty

The silver-haired fox in human form that was Naito would wordlessly depart a little while later to disappear into the forest around the shrine. Most likely leaving to hunt rabbit or some small game of the like to bring back.

Ryuka didn't mind as that was the usual behavior of her friend. Instead, she would continue her task of sweeping away the leaves from the courtyard before looking to what repairs needed to be made that she could possibly tackle on her own.

A small group of the village's children would come up the path to visit the shrine around midday, being led by the old grandma that much of the village referred to as Maeda-obaasan. Her address was one of respect and some intimacy as she was the eldest of the elders in the village, who had participated in the raising of much of the villagers through childhood.

The group included a trio of rowdy boys around the preschool age along with a girl who was slightly older and an infant that Maeda-san had strapped to her back to make it easier for her to move about with her walking cane. The thwack of a cane on the back of the leg was the limit of correction necessary much of the time for her to wrangle the youngsters.

She had brought them to visit the shrine so the older girl in the group could leave some of the late blooming flowers she had picked up on the offering table. While strictly reminding the boys to pay their respects before the shrine before letting them play a bit in the courtyard so she could speak to Ryuka.

Bowing respectfully to acknowledge the elder, Ryuka calmy greeted her, "Maeda-obaasan."

"Good child!" the greying old lady smiled benevolently at her, "I have heard that you have been having a tough time, but it looks as though you are not dispirited in the least!"

Ryuka calmly smiled in response but kept silent as she let Maeda-san continue.

"These youngsters! It would be best if they learned from you. Being respectful and filial to your father's expectations of you being dutiful and taking care of the Inari shrine as he did before."

Ryuka bowed slightly again before speaking, "It is nothing. I am just seeing to the duties that were left to me as one should."

This response didn't seem to affect Maeda-san's view of her in the least, she just beamed as she exclaimed, "Good! Good!"

Then she turned to holler at one of the boys who shoved one the others down onto the ground before leaving Ryuka to scold them thoroughly.

Ryuka watched this in silence as she softly smiled and reminisced of her own childhood. Maeda-san was strict, but she was also genuinely caring as far back as she could remember. The elderly lady provided a service to the village that was necessary as some of the kids were too young to be expected to head to the fields to work alongside their relatives.

However, Ryuka could also recall how her childhood differed from them as her father had been a low-ranking priest. He spent quite a bit of time in teaching her the virtues, the law of natural order that were taught within Shinto, as well as tell her stories or myths.

Sometimes he would visit the bonefire that would be erected at the middle of the village to tell these stories, capturing the imaginations of the other children. Sadly though, these children wouldn't get to experience such, and she didn't feel as though she was even half as good at storytelling as her father.

Maybe this was part of the difference between being an ordained priest or priestess versus a mere shrine maiden, Ryuka thought. As many of those myths he would share held some moral value.

Her heart stung a little from remembering such moments as she truly did miss her father. He was a lowly-ranked priest only because he had dared to elope with a minor court lady, her mother. Yet, the stories of their love that her father were shared were beautiful and she could clearly see the great affection he had held for her deceased mother.

It was tragic that Ryuka would not get to meet her as her mother passed during childbirth. The strain put on the human body of a mother of twins had been horrible, yet her mother had happily paid the price, or so her father would tell Ryuka.

Maeda-san and the village children had left while Ryuka was in a daze and remembering the past. The sparkle of an unshed tear hung at the corner of her eyes, which she hastily wiped away and returned to work. Only to then notice the freshly fallen leaves and dirt that the kids had tracked into the courtyard.

Her face flashed with annoyance. With a dismissive wave of her hand came the tinkle of unseen, small bells followed by a sudden breeze that kicked up around the area, which swept the courtyard in a gust of wind, carrying the leaves and dust out of the fenced location.

------------

The trees and brush passed in a blur for Naito as he ran through the forest towards its depths. He had a destination in mind.

Unlike his friend, Ryuka, who did not know what lay beyond the village, he did. Though his recollection of events before his appearance at the shrine was foggy, he still retained some idea about the surroundings.

Breaking free of the trees, he hastened his way up the mountain. A thousand years later, this part of Japan would still be left as mostly untamed mountains, trees, valleys, streams and lakes. Yet, if one climbed to the peak of any of the mountains and looked to the south on a clear day, they could see the snowy peak of Mt. Fuji in the distance.

Stopping amongst the craggily dark rocks at the peak, he cast his glance to the south. It was in that area that Ryuka's father had vanished in, but somehow, Naito knew that the man had already departed from this land.

He had never claimed to be a zenko, or messenger of Inari. Nor could he claim to be a youko, as he also wouldn't identify himself as one of the demon foxes who brought disaster, but the villagers wouldn't take the chance. Ryuka's old man had claimed him to be a zenko, so that, even if they were hesitant and suspicious, they wouldn't just turn the dogs loose and run him out of town.

Though he was thankful to the old priest, even he found himself questioning the man's judgement for trusting him and leaving him with a secret task. He could still remember that night, clear as day.

Ryuka was around eight years old and was sleeping in the corner of the hut, softly snoring and oblivious to the discussion that was to take place. Her father had sat between her sleeping form and the fire, looking at Naito and studying him over the flicker of the night's flame.

The old man had the wizened eyes of a scholar who had seen the wider world and may had even partaken in discussions concerning politics at some time in the past. Either way, the way he had calmly looked at Naito had made the fox slightly uncomfortable.

The silence grew longer with the dancing of the flames and crackle of the fire, while Naito's small, boyish frame that he had taken up was scrutinized, before the man spoke in a calm, yet forcible manner.

"I don't know where you came from nor why you decided to appear the way you do now."

In making such an open statement, the man clearly hinted that he was aware that what his eyes witnessed may not be the truth. He paused for but a moment to allow Naito to comprehend this revelation before continuing, "But I do not believe you mean to cause any harm. In fact, I am aware that you first showed yourself to Ryuka several days ago and that you accepted the name she gave you, although you had one before."

Naito's form visibly shook with shock and his blue eyes widened with surprise. Her father was aware it was a façade! Yet, Naito, himself, couldn't recall much of his past either. Yet the old man was not done as he moved his gaze from the human-shaped fox to the fire.

"It seems to be destiny that brought you here or rather, a fate that you share with Ryuka," he softly remarked.

"The fox spirits in our legends can be broken into different types. The messengers of the gods, such as Inari, are referred to as zenko and are benevolent for the most part. While the youko or demon foxes bring harm through their mischief and mayhem that they cause," the priest had explained.

"With you choosing to hang around here and near Ryuka, you will bring harm to her in the form of ostracization. Would you choose to leave in the future?"

The question seemed abrupt to Naito and he found that he couldn't answer immediately. The priest at this point had looked up from the flames to meet his confused eyes as Naito even questioned himself. Leave? He hadn't even been here for long and was being asked if he would leave!?

Seeing the fox's shock and look of incredibility, the old man had just smiled gently, "I guess you can't."

Such simple words, yet they rang true in Naito's being. Yes. That is right. He can't leave. There were reasons and he couldn't remember what they were, but he absolutely could not leave. It was then that his eyes left the priest to look at the sleeping girl. Something about that one had called to him.

Understanding had flashed in the old man's eyes, but Naito hadn't caught it. He just swayed back from the warmth of the blaze in the firepit and cast his eyes upwards as if he could see the starlit sky beyond the roof. "The way of the heavens is not meant for mortals to fully comprehend. You can't leave, but that is fine too. In that case, I have a favor to ask you."

This caught Naito's attention and the perfect illusion of being human was broken slightly as a set of fox ears popped up on the boy's head with one flicking as he recalled his gaze back to the priest.

"I have some unfinished business to take care of. I will be leaving in a few years and I am not sure how long I will be gone, nor will I know if I will return. However, with you here, I wish to ask that you look after my daughter for I am afraid that others may appear in the future to harm her."

It struck him as being strange then as the priest barely knew him, yet he had just entrusted him with a task that one would reserve for a son-in-law. Maybe the priest knew more than he had let on or could divine the secrets of heaven and seen more than he could share without invoking their wrath.

Either way, the events of that night stayed with Naito and he would recall it more frequently of late. Especially since he had a growing feeling of unease since the priest's departure.