I start in on my evening ablutions as I prepare for bed.
My teeth are mostly still human so a standard toothbrush works. The toilet is made slightly less convenient as I try to keep my tail out of the way, but my posterior covers substantially less real estate than it did last night.
I pause for a moment and think. Has it really only been one day? I’m momentarily stunned by the thought. But still, I carry that little bubble of joy, that life has been kick-started in an entirely new direction. Not just off at an odd angle, but heading off in an entirely different dimension.
Belatedly, I realise I need to wipe after I tinkle now. Cleaning up and washing my hands, I stand up and head for the door.
Turning off a few lights, I grab my tablet and head to bed. Hook up its charge then prop it up on a cushion as I settle my head onto my pillow. I have to adjust it a little to ensure that my ears are not cramped by my pillow. At least my glasses no longer get in the way.
With a bit of thought, I curl my tail over my hips and hug it gleefully.
Another moment of thought, and I bring the very tip up to my tablet, sparing an arm briefly to ensure that it’s turned on. I’ll need to do something about the iris recognition; my new eyes have played havoc with all my biometrics. For now, I’ll just fill in a PIN.
And so, blanket lightly draped over my newly slim form, I switch to the web browser and go to my Royal Road bookmarks. The Rebirth Of Alysara has a new chapter, which I devour in minutes. Switching to Selki’s Patreon, Elaine is again inadvertently causing chaos beneath the DragonEye Moons. I switch over to the Kindle app and jump to the next book in Fates Parallel.
After a moment of thought I try swiping the top of my tail over the screen to see if it can be used to turn pages.
It works. Score! Now I can hug my tail and turn pages hands-free!
The non-bibliophiles reading this may find it strange. The bibliophiles will be taking notes.
I continue reading and get about a quarter of the way into the book before my eyelids start to feel heavy. It’s now an hour after midnight. Murmuring happily, I nod off.
Dozing quietly (with an occasional “yip! Almost drawing me back to the waking world) I embrace sleep.
Only to hear a mellifluous voice call me to wakefulness again.
I find myself in a gloriously green glade, standing beneath a richly burgundy-red Tori gate, the traditional gate used at the entrance of Japanese shrines and temples.
I am (I am relieved to notice) still in my kitsune form, with two older kitsune a few paces away, looking at me warmly as they stand on either side of a pebbled path leading to a shrine perhaps forty metres away. The one on the left has white fur and a blue-tipped tail, svelte and tall. The other is a little shorter, with prominent ears, fox-red fur and a white-tipped tail. I bow to them deeply.
“Left”, the red-furred kitsune, speaks again. “Ohayou”. Japanese for Good Morning. I bow deeply to them, return the greeting: “Ohayou gozaimasu”, then apologise: “Sumimasen. Watashi no nihongo wa … warui desu.” Sorry, my Japanese is bad.
This is a vast understatement, but best get it out of the way.
The second kitsune winces. I’m pretty sure “warui” isn’t used that way.
The red kitsune, on the other hand, looks resigned.
“I will give you three out of ten for effort, but in future you should learn our language properly so you can converse freely with our sisters,” she opines, in slightly oddly accented English.
I’m a liiiitle tempted to play a minor prank, but I fear I am likely in the presence of true professionals.
Left-hand onee-chan resumes.
“My name is Shiro; my sister here is Keiko. We are here to welcome you, Geona, and introduce you to the one who looks over us.
“Do not concern yourself overmuch with worries about retribution concerning any pranks you may may play on us. We’ve probably seen them all, and you can use the practice.”
Keiko grins evilly and points at the space above my head. Tilting my head up, something long and floppy falls into my eye.
Rabbit ears.
Shiro hands me a carrot.
I look at it for a moment and giggle. Well played, girls.
I bow to them once again.
Shiro waves an arm towards the temple. “In time, you may yet learn to trade… favours freely with us. We find that many of our sisters from places new to the sisterhood come up with new ideas.
“For now, it is time you met our mother,”
Keiko’s lips twitch. Shiro has not yet noticed that she now bears the illusion of a kangaroo pouch, carrying within it a white kitsune plushie.
We stroll towards the shrine, but I stop for a moment in consternation as I notice a well and a wooden scoop off to the side of the path.
Quickly, I scurry to the well and take the scoop to pour water over my hands and head, before returning to the path.
Shiro and Keiko have a gleam of approval in their eyes. “We are glad to see you are not entirely ignorant of proper conduct,” Keiko notes. “Nevertheless, in this place, is in not necessary. This place is, for you, now another home. Come, we keep Mother waiting.
Shiro draws open the traditional Japanese paper doors. (“These doors are called Shoji,” she whispers to me.)
Before us we see a tall woman – tall by any standards at well over two metres tall – with long, flowing, ebony hair and a radiantly beautiful face. I had expected another kitsune and am a little surprised that her appearance seems, save for a gently glowing golden aura, to be essentially human.
As we walk towards her I find myself overwhelmed by her aura. It is not, as one might expect of a deity, oppressive; instead, it is deeply compassionate and loving. My initial impulse on entering, to fall down on my knees in supplication, is rapidly overwhelmed by an impulse to run to her and hug her.
“I am Inari Okami. Welcome to our home, Geona, my daughter, newest of my children.” She holds out her arms.
I take a couple of unsteady steps towards her, looking with a desperate hope into her eyes. Her smile deepens a little and her open arms gesture towards me.
My eyes erupt in tears as I leap into her arms and wrap my tail about her waist. It seems that my acceptance of my new self was not entirely without stress. At first, I merely cry desperately, quietly as I embrace her.
Gradually, as the desperate pain and relief in my heart finally finds its relief valve, my crying transitions into a desperate sobbing, grasping desperately for her red-trimmed kimono as I burrow desperately into her side.
After a while, my sobbing quietens, transitioning to a quiet keening as Inari embraces me, stroking my back and murmuring quiet encouragement..
After a time I find she has released one of her arms, and her left hand is now gently scritching behind my ears. My keening gradually subsides, overcome by the euphoria of the new sensation. After a time, I realise my keening has been replaced by little yips of happiness.
Glancing away from Inari, I see Keiko and Shiro looking on fondly. Shiro holds my illusory kitsune plushie in one hand, with a twinkle in her eye.
Calming down, Inari’s scritching slows and stops, and I push myself gently away from her. “Arigatou gozaimasu,” thank you, I murmur, then stand straight once more as I wipe my sleeve against my eyes.
I pause for a moment to re-center myself.
“Thank you, okami-sama, okaa-san, not only for your welcome here but for the gift you have granted me. I shall not disappoint you.”
Inari-sama’s gentle smile changes into a grin.
“I have seen your people, you Australians, visit my temples over the years, but you are the first to become one of my children. Your people leaven grace with humour, and so I expect you will make me proud.”
I straighten a little more then bow, a sweet smile splitting my face. “Mother, I shall make you proud, and give you reason to smile.”
Inari’s expression turns a little more serious.
“Child, the time may come when I ask of you to travel to places you would never have been, to carry my blessing and my will. I will try to ensure you are fully prepared before such becomes necessary; know that in all things I love you, as I love all my children, and would never see you come to harm.”
A shiver runs down my spine and into my tail. I vow silently to be prepared. The gift Inari has granted me, a new life, a new joy, is more than I could ever have asked for; I will be worthy of it.
Inari continues.
“When you awaken, you will need to contact the Embassy for our people in Sydney. When you do so, speak these words: Inari ga daisukidesu. Amaterasu ga hikarumasu. This means, in your tongue, ‘Inari loves; Amaterasu illuminates.’ The embassies know this as a code phrase to identify my children, and they will help you to acclimate.
“Amongst other things, they will help you learn our tongue.” Inari smirks a little.
I’m getting homework. In my dreams. My ears and tail wilt a little, but then perk up again. Of the prices that could be paid, surely this is the least of them.
“One final thing,” Inari warns, her expression growing more serious. “Know that we kitsune are not the only other threads in the Weave to have found their way to your country. Many remember the events of the last century with fresh pain; for those with centuries of life, the events of eighty years ago and the atrocities performed by the people of my homeland during that time are all too fresh in their memories. In your appearance you will be seen as Nihonjin, one of the Land of the Rising Sun, rather than as one of your wide brown homeland.
“They will judge, and you are young. They will see weakness. Beware.
“This may free you, to some extent, from one other concern. The threads native to your land will see you as a newcomer. Those who guided those who have lived in Australia for forty thousand years, only to see them exterminated in mere centuries, are unfond of the threads from the Weave who are native to Europe. You may find friends there, but use caution.”
It seems matters are not as simple as I had thought. Nevertheless, for the gifts I have gained, almost any price is worth paying.
Well, almost. “Some prices are just too high, no matter how much you may want the prize. The one thing you can’t trade for your heart’s desire is your heart[4].[5]” But having met Inari now, I have the warm feeling that she is not asking me to trade for my heart’s desire; she is granting it, and my heart as well.
“Farewell,” Inari murmurs, “and know I love you.”
I smile to her, and the world fades to darkness.