Work Text:
By most normal standards, the day should have been considered perfect. The sun was shining but it wasn’t too hot, there was a light breeze blowing through the trees, and only one truck had driven by on the road that day so there was no stench of gasoline in the air. Kuguri’s favorite rock was free of debris, he’d eaten that morning, and his next molting wasn’t due for another month.
In the past few weeks, however, normal had gone out the window.
A crash and a shriek came from the house beside Kuguri’s stretch of forest, and he blinked lazily as a scroll fluttered over the fence, wandering through the air before descending in a graceful arc and landing on the ground. Fortunately, it didn’t land in the pond or on Kuguri’s rock.
An apology was yelled over the fence and Kuguri shifted, sighing internally. The first abnormality in his existence was the presence of the new - what did he even call him. Master of the house? That was what he’d called Nekomata, but this new redheaded child didn’t have mastery of anything at the moment.
Kuguri had to acknowledge that at least part of his irritation with the boy was the fact that his family’s arrival had heralded the departure of his good friend Kenma, and had also led to Daishou’s current condition. Kenma and Kuroo were the house’s previous occupants. Kuroo and Daishou had always had a contentious relationship, but Kuguri wasn’t really surprised that the cat’s absence had led to Daishou’s sulky mood.
Daishou had taken over one of the ponds upstream of the one near the house. Kuguri could see the back of his head as he lounged back in the water, human for some reason Kuguri could not understand. Then again, Daishou could be hard to understand some days.
That was part of what made him intriguing.
Slithering around on his rock, Kuguri resolved to put those type of thoughts out of his head. It was so easy to fall into them, though; into wondering if Daishou’s mood was just an indication that Kuguri had been nothing but a stand-in for Daishou’s crush on Kuroo, if the older snake was actually interested in him at all. In a way, he envied Kenma for his easy knowledge of Kuroo’s affections.
More than that, he missed his friend.
There was another loud sound from next door, and a flurry of fish shot over the fence like rain droplets, fortunately turning into leaves before hitting the ground. Another yelled apology didn’t quite make up for the one fish that landed on Kuguri’s rock, though, stubbornly refusing to transform more than halfway into a leaf.
Feeling grumpy and out of sorts, Kuguri slid off the rock and into the grass, weaving between leaves that were slowly changing into slivers of paper. He slipped deeper into the woods, angling towards a certain pond despite knowing that Hiroo would get onto him for it if he knew.
He wouldn’t find out, though; Hiroo and Sakishima were off hunting eggs. Most of the others made a point to stay a good distance away from Nekomata’s house, leery of the chaos that erupted from behind its walls on a regular basis. Only Kuguri was too stubborn to give up his favorite rock.
Well, some days.
Slithering up to the pond, he observed its occupant. Human form looked strange on Daishou. He never quite got the face right, and his brown hair was tinted slightly olive, reminiscent of the scales of his true form. Kuguri didn’t have that problem himself. The black of his scales faded entirely except for a small patch on his lower back, and one on the front of his left shoulder. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but Daishou seemed to like the patches, so he didn’t mind.
When Daishou noticed.
Well, that wasn’t fair. If he was being realistic, he was pretty sure Daishou noticed everything, except sometimes the most important things.
Now, for instance, he knew that Daishou was aware of exactly where he was and what he was doing. He probably didn’t even question it. They were easy with each other that way, easy enough that Kuguri was fairly sure the moment for bringing up his feelings had come and gone years ago. It didn’t matter. They had each other, and Daishou was Daishou, and that was what was important.
Probably.
Kuguri slid onto a flat patch of ground just under one of the bushes near the pond, rolling so that a few of the sun’s rays spread over his scales. He was content to wait here. It wasn’t as good as his rock, but this way he’d be here if Daishou needed him.
It also let him observe his friend. Letting his tongue flick out, Kuguri tasted the air, noting the subtle miasma of Daishou’s mood. It wasn’t serious; he was fairly sure. Maybe later on he could delve into the nook in his home tree and pull out his phone, get Kuroo on the line so the two of them could bitch at each other like old times. He knew Daishou would never ask to make the call himself.
Why he cared so much, Kuguri wasn’t quite sure.
The discontent of that thought almost had him turn and slither back to the rock in hopes that things had quieted down. As he turned his head, though, he noticed a strange vibration in the air.
Sucking in a breath, Daishou sat up. He felt it too.
Of course he would. This was more Daishou’s grove than anyone else's, after all. It wasn’t like Daishou to look panicked, however, like he wanted to scramble out of the pool in his half-naked human form.
Kuguri tasted the air again. Sweet, heavy, such a strong presence that was vaguely familiar -
A white fox padded out from behind the trees and walked towards the pool.
Oh, well, that explained it.
Sitting at the edge of the pool, it tilted its head to the side, looking altogether amused.
Daishou sat back in the pool, trying to seem relaxed. Kuguri knew better. Still, it wasn’t like a myoubu would be a threat to them, even if it was unusual to have one in their grove. They all traced back to Uka-no-Mitama-no-Ōkami, after all. But foxes were tricky, even the sacred ones that were loyal to Inari. They weren’t malicious like some kitsune were, but they were still mischievous. Except for rare exceptions, Kuguri preferred to stay away from them.
Made life simpler.
There was a shimmer in the air and the fox’s form grew hazy, wavering until it resolved into that of a young woman in a loose red and white kimono.
“I’m sorry,” she said, giving Daishou a charming smile. “I realized as soon as I stepped foot in this grove that it was claimed, and thought it only polite to come and introduce myself. I’m Mika.”
“Ah,” said Daishou, the tips of his ears turning red, “that’s quite alright. Uh, I’m Daishou. Daishou Suguru. Uh, I’m uwabami...”
Kuguri stared at Daishou, feeling a bit confused. What was this? Daishou wasn’t like this. Daishou was confident and sly, a bit of a trickster himself. He only got flustered around -
Oh.
Oh, no.
A light tinkle of laughter drew Kuguri’s attention back to the woman.
“I know,” Mika said, smiling gently. “I can tell these things, you know.”
“Oh, uh, of course,” said Daishou.
Tossing long chestnut hair over her shoulder, Mika said, “Well, I probably shouldn’t stay long. I’m staying at the temple for a while, with my cousin and his friends - you should come visit me! ”
“Oh, okay,” Daishou stammered.
“Though you might want to wear a few more clothes when you visit.”
The red on Daishou’s ears traveled to his cheeks, and he shifted his hands in the water to cover himself. “Yes, ah, yes, of course.”
There was another soft peal of laughter, and Mika slid back into fox form again. “See you there,” she called over her shoulder, sauntering back towards the trees with one flick of a silver-white tail.
“Yeah,” Daishou whispered, staring after her for much too long.
Sighing internally, Kuguri watched as Daishou turned over in the water, resting his arms on moss-covered rocks and laying his chin on his hands as he looked at Kuguri.
“She’s so beautiful,” Daishou said, smiling in a way that Kuguri had never seen before.
Kuguri was relatively sure his day could not get any worse.
~~~~~~~~
Of course it could get worse. What had he been thinking?
On the plus side, Daishou was more animated than he had been in days. He finally had something to motivate him, it seemed. He’d insisted that they break out the kimonos they’d worn to the last festival in town so they could go to the temple. Of course Kuguri had to come, since he was the one who was friends with the priests, after all.
‘Friends’ was stretching things, in Kuguri’s opinion, but it seemed very clear that Daishou wasn’t prepared to hear his opinion.
The stone path leading up to the temple was steep, and they passed a few pilgrims stout enough to brave the odd weather. The sun was shining, but there was a light shower of raindrops pattering down on them.
“Foxes’ wedding, right?” said one pilgrim to another.
Kuguri wanted to snort, but it wouldn’t be polite. Besides, Daishou’s eyes seemed to light up at the prospect.
It was good to see him smiling, but this was downright annoying. Kuguri tried to convince himself it wasn’t just because he knew Daishou wasn’t smiling for him.
Finally, they made it through the series of red Tori gates and to the steps leading to the temple proper. Looking up, Kuguri caught the eye of one of the junior priests as he welcomed pilgrims in. They nodded to each other and Kuguri glanced around, resting a hand on the stone paw of one of the carved guardian foxes sitting watch over the temple.
“Kuguri!” Daishou hissed. “What if they -”
“Relax,” said a new voice. “He knows they’re just for show right now.”
Turning, Kuguri saw two of the temple’s actual guardians coming around the corner and watching them curiously. He was pretty sure the one who had spoken was named Futakuchi. They didn’t really know each other - Kuguri spent more time in the company of Moniwa, one of the other myoubu, when he was here at the temple. Still, Futakuchi had always put him on edge for some reason, and today was no exception.
“Futakuchi-san, Aone-san,” Kuguri said, giving a slight bow.
“Kuguri-san,” Futakuchi said, the smirk on his face evident in his voice. “And - I’m afraid we haven’t met?”
“I am Daishou, Daishou Suguru,” said Daishou, bowing with the perfect amount of politeness. “We’re here at the invitation of the Lady Mika.”
All amusement fled Futakuchi’s face at that, and he scowled at Daishou. “You? Why would she invite you?”
This probably wouldn’t end well.
Daishou, never one to back down from a fight, replied, “Well maybe she wanted some polite company. What does it have to do with you?”
“She’s my cousin, that’s why, and there’s no way I’m letting some rude, stinky snake -”
“Ehem,” interrupted the junior priest. “Is there a problem here?”
Looking over at the priest made Kuguri want to fade into the background. This was worse than the time that Kenma had talked Kuroo into coming to visit the temple for New Years. Not much, but at least that day there hadn’t been any pilgrims at the temple at the hour they’d visited, and Moniwa and Kamasaki had been there to keep the peace.
Putting on his most charming smile, Daishou turned to the priest. “I apologize if we disturbed anyone,” he said, bowing a bit more than was required. “We had a mild disagreement, but I’m sure it will be worked out soon.”
“I see,” said the priest, glancing at Kuguri with a raised eyebrow. “Friend of yours, I take it?”
Shrugging noncommittally, Kuguri nodded. He caught a flicker of benign exasperation on the priest’s face before he turned to Futakuchi, inclining his head.
“Futakuchi-san, perhaps your guests would be more comfortable inside your quarters?”
That was probably best for all concerned. To the pilgrims, it probably seemed like they were a group of bickering young men, not the best look to give to strangers new to the town. Kuguri liked the priests as well; they respected what he was and gave him space in their rock garden to sun if he felt like meditating. It had been a long time since snakes had been a big part of the worship of Inari, but the priests remembered the old ways.
It was best not to make their lives any harder than they had to be.
“We would be honored,” said Kuguri, ignoring Daishou’s dirty look.
Really, he shouldn’t complain. Most likely the object of his current affections was hidden away inside the warren the foxes called their home. Even if they only got into the entry hall, it was more progress than they had made so far.
Blowing out a breath, Futakuchi shrugged. “Fine,” he said, turning and stalking off toward the side of the temple.
Kuguri followed, familiar with the way. Moniwa had served him tea a few times in the myoubu quarters. He had some interesting theories about energy paths that Kuguri enjoyed hearing about, wishing that the foxes got along better with cats so that Kuroo could join them. Kuguri thought he would’ve enjoyed the conversation.
Things were distinctly more tense than his last visit, however.
Still, the way was familiar. He watched as Futakuchi slid through a gate that appeared to lead to a small enclosed garden, disappearing into the liminal space. Following, Kuguri felt the mild tingle that indicated transport from one realm to another and stepped aside so that Daishou and Aone could follow.
Instead of a garden, they were in a large underground room decorated with brightly-colored wall hangings and fine tatami mats. There was a seating area to one side that Kuguri was familiar with, and it was there that Futakuchi led them, seemingly lost in thought.
“So when you say you want to see my cousin,” Futakuchi finally said, “what exactly are your intentions?”
Daishou gaped at him. “My intentions?”
“Yes! Do you think she’s just another pretty thing that’s caught your eye, that you can just fluff her tail and have your fun and be done with it?”
For some reason Futakuchi had glanced over at Kuguri during that accusation, eyes narrowed and fingers curled into fists.
“I - I’d never!” Daishou said. “You don’t - Kuguri, back me up here.”
Kuguri rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug, uncomfortable. He really wasn’t sure why they were here. Was the girl just someone to distract Daishou from his funk about Kuroo? He pushed down the sting that his presence wasn’t enough to hold Daishou’s interest, and just settled on the easiest answer. “I’m sure Daishou’s intentions are honorable,” he said.
Futakuchi frowned, shaking his head. “Right. Sure.”
Aone stood in the background, a stoic monolith that didn’t seem to be responding to anything around him. Not for the first time, Kuguri found himself wishing he’d made friends with the man. They’d never talked, though; just sat and contemplated the rock garden out behind the shrine together, falling into the peace.
Kuguri wished he was there right now.
“Well,” Futakuchi said, “you’re going to have to prove it.”
“What?” asked Daishou, eyebrows shooting up into his bangs.
“A test!” barked Futakuchi. “I need to know you’re worthy of her company!”
“I - what are you, her guardian?”
“Of course! I’m myoubu!”
“That means you’re Inari’s guardians, not that you’re guardians of the woman who invited me very clearly to -”
“Who are you to tell me what we are and what we aren’t, huh? You can’t even -”
“Can we just know what the test is?” Kuguri interrupted, trying to break this argument before it went any further. He felt a mild pounding at the base of his skull and thought longingly of the stone garden just a dimension away.
Futakuchi huffed, frowning as he looked at Kuguri. “Fine,” he spat out, shoulders curling in. He strode away from the chair he’d never actually sat in, walking towards an arched doorway and running his fingers across the kanji carved along the frame. They started to glow, and after a moment or two the space between the arch warped and shifted, settling itself as Kuguri and the others came over and looked inside.
The room beyond the arch contained vast piles of rice. It looked like enough rice to feed a small village over the winter - maybe their village. Kuguri wondered if it was a collection of all the rice that had been offered to the shrine in recent history. He’d seen the bowls of rice and cakes set out on the altar in the shrine, knew that most of the food went to help support the priests. Evidently at least a portion came to the foxes as well.
Futakuchi pulled an amulet out from behind his shirt, lifting it up and twisting it open to reveal a single grain of rice. “This is a sacred grain,” he said, “inscribed with the blessing of Inari.”
He then flicked it into the room, waving a hand. Instantly, the piles of rice rose into the air in a whirlwind, mixing together as they all watched. For a moment Kuguri was worried Futakuchi was going to ask Daishou to step into the maelstrom, but soon enough the rice settled back into piles and the room quieted once more.
“If you are worthy,” Futakuchi spat, “you will be able to find the sacred grain amongst all the others.”
Balking, Daishou said, “You want me to find one grain of rice among - that’s worse than a needle in a haystack!”
It did seem to be an overwhelming task.
Daishou turned to Kuguri, and to Kuguri’s surprise, it seemed like Daishou actually cared. It only took him a second to realize what that meant - to some, Daishou seemed like nothing more than a snarky, shallow person, but when he really cared about something -
“I want to help,” Kuguri said, clearing his throat. “Would that be acceptable?”
He ignored the thankful look Daishou gave him and focused on Futakuchi’s face, uncertain how to read the emotions there. It seemed for a moment like there was a pained look in his eye, then he turned away, falling back into that nonchalant pose that Kuguri was used to seeing. “Do what you want, snake.”
Kuguri frowned at the word’s mild sting, then just shrugged it off, stepping into the room with Daishou and slipping into his true skin. He was much more attuned to sacred things than Daishou was. Daishou’s talent lay in a wilder type of magic - but then again, he was the guardian of the forest where Nohebi made their home. Kuguri had spent more time with humans - first Nekomata, the man who had helped bring them all into consciousness, and then the priests.
He’d found a certain affinity for Inari, especially Uka-no-Mitama-no-Ōkami. That face of Inari had often been represented as a snake in days long past and was now directly linked to the spirit that lived within the rice. Kuguri found he could relate, could almost feel the pulsing of potential life locked within all the grains that surrounded him. One grain, though, was like a blazing sun among the stars. It was to that grain that he slithered, nosing through the others until he could reach out his tongue and pull it into his mouth. It felt almost hot, run full through with the whispers of the kami. A part of him wanted to sink into those words, know the breadth and depth of their meaning.
But instead, he turned, slithering over to Daishou and carefully passing him the grain. He wanted to curl closer to the other snake in the chill of the rice, but he knew better.
Ignoring the impulse, he followed Daishou as he slithered toward the entrance, both of them shifting to human form as they got close.
“Here’s your grain,” Daishou said, brushing past Futakuchi when he saw Mika on the other side of the arch.
It was unfair how the line of Daishou’s shoulders relaxed, how his eyes lit up as he saw her. She jumped up and came over too, a teasing smile on her face. It wasn’t fair. They’d only just met. He’d never seen Daishou smile like that at anyone, so shy and happy and -
It hurt.
He felt Futakuchi’s eyes burning into him and glanced over, again stymied by his inability to read the fox’s face. He was tempted to ask him what his problem was, but it seemed like too much trouble.
“Kenji, let down the barrier,” Mika said, “and stop being so difficult.”
“No,” said Futakuchi, pursing his lips and not taking his eyes off of Kuguri. “I know what he’s like, and it wasn’t even really him that passed this test anyway. If he really cares about you he’ll be able to pick out your tsukumo.”
“What?” Mika said, scowling. “That’s ridiculous -”
Turning, Futakuchi challenged her by saying, “You don’t want to see if he can? You said when you first got here that -”
“Eee! Ok, ok, fine,” said Mika, blushing for some reason. Then she looked at Daishou. “It won’t be that hard, probably - I mean, if you want to -”
“I want to,” said Daishou, smile softening. “I’ll do it. Whatever it is.”
“Oh,” she sighed, pressing both palms flat against the invisible barrier that filled the archway.
“Oh you two are disgust - ugh -” said Futakuchi, striding toward the arch.
Mika made a face at him. “Like you’re any better, with your -”
“Shut it! And step back, I’m going to flip the rooms.”
Huffing, Mika retreated, crossing her arms under her chest.
It only took a minute for Futakuchi to run his fingers over the kanji on the arch. Then the space beyond it was shifting again, swirls of color finally settling into what looked like a room made up of wooden slats, sunlight peeking in through the cracks. As they went into the room, Kuguri could see that there were small wooden dolls hanging from the slats, swaying in a breeze that came in through the window.
“That’s mine,” Aone offered, pointing at a tall gray doll with fox ears that was leaning against one of the corners.
Kuguri chuckled. “I never would have guessed,” he murmured.
He was rewarded with one of Aone’s rare smiles, and found himself second-guessing what he’d assumed about how Aone saw him.
“Now then,” said Futakuchi, pulling their attention, “each of these dolls is attuned to the spirit of one of the myoubu that serve Inari. If you really actually care about Mika-chan, you’ll have no trouble picking hers out of the crowd - though I’m not expecting much.”
“Thank you for letting me attempt this,” Daishou said, giving Futakuchi an insincere bow.
Futakuchi turned away, making small noises under his breath. It was -
No, it was not cute.
Kuguri shook his head, wondering what he was thinking. Daishou hadn’t asked him for help this time, but Kuguri followed his friend into the convocation of hanging dolls, raising a hand to run over the different bodies.
Some of the dolls were almost featureless, worn down by time. He could feel others staring at him. It was mildly oppressive. He got the sense that if he had been there for any less-than-honorable reason he might’ve been driven out of the room screaming, and wondered about Futakuchi’s motives.
Daishou was doing fine, though, and Futakuchi didn’t really strike him as that much of an asshole - well, at least not that kind of asshole. Smiling, Kuguri wandered, tilting his head at the soft hollow sound of dolls hitting lightly against each other. Some were wooden, he could hear that. Others were bone, still others a porcelain that was cool to the touch. It was when his fingers slid across a stone doll that he paused, wrapping his fingers around the narrow body and catching it as the string broke and it fell into his palm.
It wasn’t Mika’s doll, he knew that. Hers, he imagined, would be beautiful and elegant. This one looked like a child had started to carve it but had only gotten as far as the sly eyes and smile before he finished. Still, for some reason, the stone felt warm against Kuguri’s palm, warm and full of potential. It reminded him a little bit of the grain of rice.
A shout of victory had him turning, unconsciously pocketing the doll as the room around them faded and changed, shifting back into the main room of the foxes’ domain.
“I knew you could do it,” Mika said, beaming at Daishou.
“I didn’t - it just - ah - it felt like you,” Daishou stammered, looking down at where he was holding Mika’s hand. “And then -”
“And then it was me,” she murmured, ducking her head and looking up at him, something like wonder in her eyes. “I was right, you’re - we’re -”
“Ok, enough of that,” Futakuchi growled. “You just met, you don't know that you’re - whatever it is you think you are. Besides, he hasn’t passed my last test -”
“Enough!” Mika said, turning and stomping her foot. “You are my cousin, that is all.”
“Your mother told me to keep an eye out while you were here, make sure you were taken care of and protected!”
“My mother just doesn’t like the fact that I’m getting old enough now to make up my own mind, is all. I will leave, and we will take Kuguri with us if you don’t stop!”
Futakuchi sent Kuguri a quick look, then looked back at Mika and hissed, “You’re cruel.”
It made Kuguri’s stomach turn, suddenly. Was that - did Futakuchi know how he felt about Daishou? Did they talk about it? He wouldn’t’ve thought that foxes would be gossips, but then again, he only really talked to Moniwa.
A warm hand on his shoulder made him turn and look up at Aone.
The giant’s eyes were kind, and he smiled as he whispered, “Don't mind them, they’re always a bit petty the first few days they’re together. You should’ve seen them when they were younger, fighting over the same toys. It was a mess.”
Kuguri found that he could breathe again, and he took comfort from the other’s words. Chuckling, he said, “Sounds like Daishou and Kuroo.”
“Probably,” Aone murmured, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
For some reason, that gave Kuguri the courage to walk forward to where the other three were gathered, still bickering until Mika threw up her hand and walked off, Daishou in tow. Kuguri didn’t miss the face that Daishou made at Futakuchi as they left.
Petty indeed.
“You know,” Kuguri said, “It’s obvious they both like each other. Why are you so hung up on keeping them apart?”
“Because it’s -!” Futakuchi said, rounding on him and then pausing before he stood up straight. “And anyways, it’s not like you’re one to talk, considering how attached at the hip you are to Daishou. If snakes even have hips.”
Very petty.
“I do in this form,” Kuguri murmured, for some reason amused rather than offended by Futakuchi’s comment. He was, he found, strangely at peace with the idea of Daishou being with someone else.
When had that happened?
He brushed his hands over the front of his jeans, turning to look down when he felt something in one of the pockets. Oh. The doll. Raising an eyebrow, he pulled it out, surprised that it hadn’t disappeared when the room changed. “Ah, sorry, I probably shouldn’t’ve picked this up, it kinda fell into my hands and I -”
“You -” Futakuchi said, pursing his lips. There was something strangely vulnerable in his gaze, in the way his fingers were fluttering before he curled them close to his chest.
“What?” Kuguri asked, running fingertips over the cool stone of the figurine. “I didn’t break it, did I? I didn’t mean to.” It looked fine, just a strong light-gray stone with what appeared to be bubbles of polished malachite on the shoulder. It was, he thought, rather pretty.
“It’s fine,” murmured Futakuchi, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “It’s just - uh - that’s my tsukumo.”
Surprised, Kuguri looked up to see a light flush on Futakuchi’s cheeks. He was looking away, pressing his fingertips together in what Kuguri felt was uncharacteristic nervousness.
“It’s yours?” asked Kuguri, looking down at the doll again.
“They’re - normally they don’t fall unless - ah -”
Kuguri tilted his head to the side, looking back down at the doll. It had black stone eyes. Had its eyes been open before? He wasn’t sure, but it didn’t feel unnatural, so it didn’t bother him. The eyes seemed to be telling him to think, so he did.
He wasn’t slow, nor was he stupid. He just - well.
He missed things sometimes.
Thinking back over everything that had happened since he got to the temple with Daishou, a certain pattern seemed to emerge. He’d interpreted things one way because he’d been so into his head about what was happening with Daishou and Mika, but for some reason, he was fairly sure there was another interpretation to be made as well.
One that actually made some strange warm feelings bubble up inside of him.
“Well,” Kuguri said, “I suppose it’s a good thing that Daishou will be wanting to come to the temple more often then, yes?”
“What?” Futakuchi asked, looking up in surprise. He studied Kuguri’s face a long moment, slowly relaxing and letting a smile curl his lips.
Futakuchi looked good when he smiled.
“Yes,” said Futakuchi, “I guess it is.”