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Hisashi hit the ground hard. His breath hitched as he dug his fingers into green grass and dirt. The change from indistinct gray to full color always left him feeling disoriented when his vision switched between realms.
Hanging his head, he drew in a shaky breath, glad for the afternoon sun that beat down on him, baking away the cloying feeling of chilly mist. He'd made it.
He pushed himself to his feet and stood, swaying. A part of him was anything but relieved that his panicked, last ditch effort to stay connected to this reality had actually worked. After all, it meant imprisonment. It meant leaving behind everything he cared about. But the desire to survive was just too strong.
Besides, if he went off like a bomb there in town, he would have taken the whole block with him—and that was the best-case scenario.
He pushed his hair back and to the side, running a hand over the ward on the shaved side of his head. That was what had helped him get back here. The old draw that reminded him he belonged to his clan. Even though he'd weakened the ward by altering it with his own kanji, the magic tie was still there.
He dusted off his leather jacket and jeans, reaching behind his neck to pull up the hood of his sweatshirt so it covered his hair. He didn't have to worry about glamouring himself to hide from humans. He'd landed smack-dab in the middle of clan territory. The humans here were mostly sighted and in the know. His clan kept tight control over who was allowed to come and go. They were just as rigid about that as everything else.
No, he hid his white hair and skin because in a Japanese-dominated settlement of kitsune, he always stood out like a sore thumb.
He made his way to a gravel road that led up, toward the forested hills at the base of the mountain. The scenery was beautiful here, away from the bustle of the metropolitan areas of California. He'd forgotten just how beautiful, in his rush to get away. Now, he stared up at the lush landscape and misty mountaintops that he'd never leave for the rest of his long life. He hoped like fuck it still looked as pretty to him a few hundred years from now.
His feet were heavy as he climbed the path toward slavery. What was Gesa thinking now? The big gryphon would be pissed, of that he had no doubt. She was probably cursing his name, calling him a fucking idiot. But she had the rest of her pride. She'd be okay.
And Oisin...well, the fae hardly remembered Hisashi anyway, so no loss there.
His chest ached and he swallowed hard to stop himself from crying like a damned baby. His feet scuffed over the path and he closed his eyes. He would be twenty-one years old as of tomorrow. He'd spent the last six years of his life on his own. He was done feeling like a helpless kid.
After what felt like ages of climbing, the steep path ended in an even steeper set of stairs, flanked by a Japanese-inspired archway at the top. White paper talismans fluttered from the brightly painted archway. Hisashi slipped out of his jacket. It wasn't winter here. Not the way it was back home. The word home made him long for cold, pine-scented air and snow, not sunshine and greenery.
He stopped at the top of the stairs, not surprised to find his sister waiting for him. Hisashi came to a halt before her and she craned her head back to meet his eyes, since he towered over her. Her long, straight hair was as dark as her eyes, the almond shape of which was accentuated as she narrowed her eyes at him. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Brother. The elders said you'd be coming home today."
He stared down at her, wishing his life had been different. What would it be like to have an older sister who adored her little brother and united with him to fight back against the stodgy old adults? He'd never know. He was pretty sure Kira hated him for being born with the gifts that should have been hers.
"And you came to make sure I wasn't going to cause a fuss," he said tiredly. "How sweet of you."
She snorted, her dark eyes raking him from head to toe, showing every bit as much displeasure with what she saw as the rest of them would. "You need to change your clothes before you see the elders. And mother and father will want to see you. They came home when we got word you'd be coming back."
Hisashi let out a long breath. Of course, the whole clan knew he'd be back. The elders had precognition, just like Hisashi. Though, they had to work together and use a bunch of rituals to access it.
"Lead on," he said, knowing it was no use arguing. After all, it was his own choice to come back here.
She led him to a small cottage at the outskirts of their little village. Everything was just as perfectly ordered and manicured as he remembered. Everything in its proper place at all times. There wasn't a blade of grass that would dare risk the displeasure of the elders by growing at an angle.
Hisashi had stepped out of line and look where that had landed him.
Though, the last couple of months with Gesa and the pride made all the shit that came before worth it. He'd never felt like he belonged before them. Never felt truly loved for who he was.
Hisashi felt eyes on him as they passed the other cottages that dotted the hillside. He wasn't surprised when several attendants met them at their destination. He recognized two of them, attendants that he'd had as a child.
They were overly polite and didn't question his return, or his inappropriate clothing. They just efficiently went about restoring order. He was stripped and bathed with blessed water. He was powdered and perfumed and clothed in the finest, heaviest silk and jewels. He was smudged with smoky incense to drive away evil spirits.
Then, the damned treasure of the kitsune was led to his doom.
Hisashi hated how the traditional clothing felt right and wrong at the same time. Like a familiar routine, but one he had hoped to never experience again. It was bullshit.
But he really didn't have any other choice. If he had to tie himself to a place, to a shrine, it was better if it was in a place surrounded by clan members who knew what he needed and how to care for him. And on clan land, where he didn't need to worry that his shrine would fall to disuse or be forgotten and paved over, leaving him tied to an industrial waste dump or something.
He entered the temple and strode up to the place where the elders sat in all their honored splendor. His parents stood nearby, watching him with tense expressions that conveyed to him both their disappointment at his failed attempt at freedom and their relief that their place in the clan was about to be restored.
He had forgotten how small they were. His parents had seemed larger than life when he was a child, like their opinions moved the world. Funny how that wasn't the case anymore. He'd grown.
He knew he was supposed to bow low and act with grace and beauty, bring honor to his family by showing the elders his respect. But he just couldn't do it. "Hey guys, what's up?" he said instead, crossing his arms and wrinkling his expensive kimono. "Long time no see."
The elder in front of him narrowed her eyes. "Miyamoto Hisashi," she said in a voice like dry leaves. "The clan welcomes back its nine-tail. We assume you are here to establish your shrine and strengthen your clan, as you should have done years ago"
He drew in a deep breath, wanting to turn around and walk out. He'd done it once. He could do it again. And this time he wouldn't have to worry about them stopping him—he was too powerful for any of them to restrain him.
But if he pulled on his power, the whole village might go up in flames. There were actually some good people here. They didn't all deserve to be...ghostsploded.
"Yes, oh great and powerful Grannie, I've come slinking back with my tails between my legs. Aren't you just thrilled?" he said in a sweet voice.
The elder to his right huffed. "You will not speak to your elders with such disrespect, kit. Nine-tail you might be, but you are still a child. And one who has displeased us all."
He engaged in a staring contest with the elders. He wanted to make sure to push every one of their uptight buttons before he finally rolled over and showed his belly, like they all knew he would eventually. He needed the binding ceremony only they knew how to perform. Otherwise, he was fucked.
"I apologize, venerable elder," he said, pitching his deep voice to be higher, gentler, softer. The way they all preferred. Male nine-tail were very rare. The powerful white foxes were usually female—graceful, feminine, restrained. It grated against the old traditions to have a nine-tail among them who was masculine, crass and predatory.
He knew this. He'd had it beaten into him enough times as a child. He bowed his head, arranged his kimono, and dropped into a deep, graceful bow that brought his head nearly to the ground. "Forgive me. I've been away too long and forget our traditions."
The elder to his left clapped her hands sharply. "Rise."
He stood, tucking his hands away and trying to look small as he towered over everyone in the room. "Thank you, elder."
The elder in the middle, their leader, gripped the arms of the chair she sat in and leaned forward, her wrinkled skin piling up as she smiled at him. "We welcome you back, Hisashi. You do your family an honor by returning to your rightful place. We will perform the binding ritual tomorrow. This will give you ample time to be purified and to allow us to...refresh your memory of how a nine-tail should behave, before we present you to the rest of the village."
He nodded, suppressing his disappointment. He wanted the binding done now, so he didn't have a chance to turn tail and run. But instead they would punish him, in their petty way. With lots of isolation and reminders of who he should be while they did their level best to stamp out who he was.
"There's no place like home," he muttered as he followed his parents and attendants out of the temple and to the cottage where he would be isolated until his binding. "There's no place like home."