The sun shines beneath the blinds of my bedtime window. I hear a whisper, which carries a strangely grandiose elegance: “Amaterasu welcomes you to our family.”
I shoot up in bed, and in so doing accidentally yank on the tail still cradled in my arms. I yelp in pain, then reflect ruefully on the fox vocalisations I seem to have fallen into recently.
Amaterasu is serious, serious juju. She’s the Sun God, head of the Japanese pantheon, such as it is. The literal goddess of the Sun just greeted me.
I tug my blinds open and face the sun. “Geona, daughter of Inari, thanks Amaterasu-sama for her kindness,” and I kneel on my bed, bowing towards the sun in a deep dogeza.
I’ve been an atheist for thirty years, but recent developments seem to indicate a revisiting of those views is about due.
Looking at the clock, it’s about eight.
I need to fit a shower in. With yesterday’s events I skipped having a shower, but that’s not a good habit to get into. Amongst other things, it seems the kitsune form carries an improved sense of smell, and while I don’t exactly reek, there’s definitely a distinct fragrance I’m developing.
Normally I’d read until about eight thirty then shower, but while I’m nowhere near as large as I once was, I now have fur, ears and a tail to deal with – to say nothing my my long hair.
Which is…getting more than a little tangled.
On second thought, I grab a spare towel from the linen cupboard and hang it over the shower rail along with my usual towel, then turn on the hot water, and spend half a minute getting the temperature right.
I get in the shower and apply some body wash to my face washer, then intermittently wipe myself down with the sudsy cloth and rinse off. I manage, by hurrying a little, to get most of myself clean before the hot water runs out, but my hair and tail remain wet but largely unwashed.
Showering in cold water is unappealing, but then I have a thought.
I summon a ball of foxfire then push it into the shower head. Initially, the water remains lukewarm, but with a slight push the temperature rises to something pleasantly hot. I get the feeling this is a temperature I might once have found scalding, but now it’s quite comfortable. I may not need to worry so much about the summer heatwaves as I had thought…
In any case, I grab the bottle of shampoo, then lather up my hair. This takes a while; my hair is much, much longer than it’s ever been before, and I’m just not used to it. Eventually I get it washed and rinsed; I may need to talk to somebody suitably experienced and get some tips, and probably some new hair care products. I really don’t want to cut it, not only because it’s part of Inaris’s gift, but because I can see myself getting quite vain about it.
That leaves my tail.
Fluff, fluff, wherefore art thou fluff? The tail which was gloriously fluffy in bed last night now more closely resembled a bedraggled wet cat. I whip my fair over my shoulder to make sure it doesn’t get in the way, then get down to some serious shampooing, all the while maintaining a corner of my focus to ensure that the water remains hot.
Eventually it’s done.
I dry myself off normally then grab the second towel to pat down my hair and tail.
It’s not remotely sufficient.
I grab the first towel as well and use it to pat down my tail again.
The result is significantly drier but still retains that trademark drowned dog look. What I really need is a hair dryer.
Then I have an epiphany.
I once again summon my foxfire and form it into a large ball. Passing it repeatedly down the length of my tail, I can feel it gradually growing drier and fluffier. There are still some tangles I’ll need to work out.
I then try the same thing with my hair. It doesn’t work quite as well, as the hair isn’t constrained by a central core as my tail is, but eventually it gets dry enough.
Looking again at my hair, I can’t entirely suppress a sense of dread. My old hair was quite short; the only grooming gear I had was a single, large comb and a beard trimmer.
Fifteen minutes later I have tears in my eyes and a couple of broken teeth on my comb. My tail is still slightly disordered and my hair has a handful of knots I couldn’t quite work out.
Then the alarm for work goes off. Handover in five minutes.
I’ll skip what was involved for work on this day; it was, suffice to say, along very similar lines. There were only two new developments.
The first was a brief discussion with our second shift manager, Kevin, who is usually in charge of the junior team. I used to be on his team before a reshuffle moved us around. However, the advantage of talking to him rather than Bob is that he lives quite close; meeting together for lunch is fairly easy to organise.
After Sydney takes the shift in handover, I ping Kevin in Slack to organise meeting at lunch. I mention to him that the topic will be strange, even by my standards, and ask that we eat on the balcony on the outside of the Burwood Westfield food court. This is up on the first floor – what Americans would call the second floor – and so is not easily visible from the ground. We set the date for quarter past one.
After I finish off my first few tickets, there’s a brief lull. I look up the number for the Japanese embassy in Sydney and phone them to organise an appointment.
The receptionist answers “Moshi moshi, thank you for calling the Japanese embassy in Sydney. How may I help you?”
I ask if I can organise an appointment in the next few days. I can almost hear the frown over the phone line; she asks what needs to be organised.
I take a deep breath, momentarily nervous.
“I have been told the phrase to give you is: Inari ga daisukidesu. Amaterasu ga hikarumasu.” Then I wait a heartbeat to see how she responds.
Her response sounds puzzled. It seems she doesn’t know what the phrase signifies.
“I was told the embassy would be familiar with the meaning of this phrase. Could you please talk briefly to your superior and quote that phrase for them? Inari ga daisukidesu. Amaterasu ga hikarumasu. I apologise for inconveniencing you in this way, but this is quite important, and quite unusual.”
You can tell she’s been well trained. A moment later, she says “wait one moment,” then the phone starts playing a traditional Japanese song accompanied by a koto.[6]
A minute or so later, the music is cut off, and replaced by a new, male voice, breathing slightly quickly. “Sumimasen,” they say, “Could you please repeat what you told our honourable receptionist earlier?”
I repeat the phrase and they release a heavy, somewhat resigned breath. I can hear the receptionist in the background, asking quietly what’s going on.
“Apologies again,” the new voice says. “I am Tanaka-san, and I am a junior attaché at this office. We need to meet you in person as soon as possible, for a period of three or four hours. When might we be able to meet you?”
I think for a moment. I’d rather not cancel work at such short notice, and I have something else on tomorrow during the day.
“Would tonight be OK?” I ask. “Otherwise, we could meet late tomorrow afternoon, Sunday, or I could probably make some time on Monday.”
Tanaka’s world-weary sigh echoes down the line. “While we would prefer a time during the day, tonight is an option. At least,” he says wryly, “we need to worry less about conflicts with existing appointments. I will inform the senior attaché. Is six PM possible?”
“It’s a little early as I finish work around five, but I think I can manage it” I respond.”
“Very well,” he agrees. “I will see you tonight at, or shortly after, six PM. Please be prepared to demonstrate your… qualifications.”
Half an hour after I hang up, a buzz resonates through the unit.
I head over to the door and confirm that it’s the delivery I have been anticipating. I buzz them in so they can reach my floor and a few minutes later they knock at my front door.
Thinking for a moment, I apply an illusion to follow my “human teenager” appearance: fox ears hidden, human ears added, and tail hidden, plus some basic clothes beyond the basics I’d pieced together yesterday. I tune the illusion so my clothes look a little more conventional; as they currently stand, they look a little too much like the “boyfriend’s T-shirt” look, and I would rather not have people thinking I’m jailbait.
I pull the deadlock and open the door to the unit, waiting for the delivery person to arrive. A few minutes later, they arrive with a very large box – perhaps a sixty centimetre, or about two foot, cube – plus a couple of shipping bags of the more flexible variety. I thank them profusely then haul the clothes inside as they leave.
Grabbing a knife, I slit open the packing tape on the box and the seams on the bags, and let my new clothes tumble out. I grin maniacally at the resulting pile.
I’ll need to pick something from this pile to wear at lunch – to say nothing of tonight – so I duck back to the master bedroom where my office setup lives to check if there are any new tickets. There is one, but it’s a known issue and easily dealt with
Rifling through the pile, I find the off-white hoody, then grab a long skirt and some underwear. The panties are a snug fit, and I need to slit a hole in the back for my tail. The bra takes some working out, although given my current cup size there isn’t much for it to hold. Getting the bra on is troublesome, until I remember an old trick I once read of – hook it up with the band in front, then rotate. That works nicely.
I make a couple of notes on my tablet for things I’m going to need to go shopping for. Some sort of hairbrush, probably multiple. New shoes. A hair dryer would not go astray – I can make do with foxfire at the moment, but driving the foxfire uses energy that I may not always have to spare.
With an embarrassed grimace, I note down that a visit to a pet store would be a good idea.
Oh, and I need to get some fried tofu. Mmm, tofu. My mouth waters.
Clothes sorted out, I set my alarm to give me time to Westfield in time for lunch. I grab my satchel and adjust the strap, then head out.
I start up an audiobook to listen to on my walk, but a new problem presents itself. How the heck do I put on headphones? They’re oriented in entirely the wrong direction!
Then I have another look at my headphones and grin. This set is designed to fold down flat for packing. With a bit of tweaking, I have the earmuffs directed to the front of my ears and manage to look the headband partly around the back of my ears so they don’t fall off. Eh, it will do for now.