Boku No Kitsune: Part 1



“…and together, the young princess and her demon lover left the mortal world and journeyed to the kitsune realm. Their union was held under a shower of sacred sakura trees and everyone lived happily ever after.”

A very young Sasuke stared up at his mother, entranced by her story even as it ended. His big eyes widened on his young face, images of demons and magic dancing about in his mind. He made a slight noise as his mother moved him off her lap and onto the silken bed sheets, tucking him in and kissing his forehead softly.

“Momma? What if the princess said no?” Sasuke asked, squirming underneath the covers.

Mikoto blinked, her eyes widening in mild surprise at the question. “Then…the kitsune would have died.”

Sasuke settled down and gave his mother a pout, confused by her answer. “Why?”

“Well…” His mother made to answer, seeming to decide how to answer him. “…demons are different from us. They mate for eternity. For a kitsune, a no is fatal.”



/8/8/8/8/8/Time Skip/8/8/8/8/8/8/8/



In the forests of the infant Fire Country, several bushes rustled, unaided by any gust or gale. After a second they stopped, and then as suddenly as that, a young fox burst from their leaves in mid-leap. It was panting heavily and had a terrified look in its eyes. Shouts and calls could be heard nearby, growing stronger and amplifying the little kit’s terror.

It landed on the ground and prepared for another sprint, but something was wrong. Before the kit could realize why the earth was sagging, the cover of the hidden hole broke and he found himself falling down towards a carpet of wooden spikes.

With a scared and pained yelp, he landed, somehow missing all the spikes save one that now pierced through his upper left paw. He lay there for a time, panting and shaking from exhaustion, fear, and pain.

“Ha ha! We got it!” A voice cried out close to the kit’s prison.

A gruff looking poacher and his companion knelt, gazing down the hole at their prize with greedy smiles.

“Heh…stupid animal. It walked right into that trap of yours,” His companion agreed, reaching in and grabbing the kit by the scruff of the neck. “Check that out. Golden fur and multiple tails…We’ll get a pretty yen off this little freak’s fur.”

Ignoring the spike that had pierced its paw, he yanked the small creature up and out of the pit, holding him for the both of them to see. The kit struggled to break free, then hung there vulnerable and afraid as the two men measured up their prize.

“It’s our lucky day,” The poacher finally agreed, reaching to take the fox from his partner and snap its neck.

His hand never made it as an arrow shot from the dark shadows of the forest, grazing the hand of the man holding the kit up high. He cursed out in pain, dropping the kit as he moved to clutch his now bleeding hand.

The kit fell and tried to land on all his feet, but collapsed almost immediately with a pained yelp as his injured paw protested the weight. He abandoned hope of running and curled up into a ball instead, covering himself with his two small tails. He shook fearfully, but curiosity drew him to peek out from between his tails to find what had saved him.

“You two…identify yourselves,” A low, silken voice commanded with the authority of a noble.

A young man stepped out from the shadow of the trees, bow in hand and a second arrow ready to be drawn. He was tall but dark, his hair the color of the midnight sky, his eyes the color of obsidian, and his skin pale as ivory. He was dressed in a dark blue hakama over an equally dark blue kimono, and a strange fan like design decorated the upper sleeve of both arms.

The fox had never seen a human such as this before, but recognized the weapon he held and grew fearful of his fate.

“Why the hell should we?” The poacher scoffed, giving the stranger a disgusted once over.

The man narrowed his eyes, but remained calm and in control. “These lands belong to Lord Uchiha and his kin. The two of you are trespassing, a crime punishable by death.”

“Tch…” The poacher scowled in annoyance.

The two men exchanged a glance, then ran for it, the poacher drawing out a knife and throwing it at the dark haired youth to distract him while they ran off.

Taking a single step to the left, the stranger avoided the projectile and frowned in annoyance, watching the men get away but not bothering to give chase. He loosened his hold on his bow and moved to slip it into its holder on his back, replacing the arrow back with its brothers. His dark eyes shifted to the small form of the baby fox, which had poked its head out from its tails to momentarily sniff one of the footsteps left by the men.

He approached it slowly and knelt, the kit noticing him almost immediately and tensing, snarling at him in warning.

“It’s ok…I’m not an enemy,” He cooed softly, drawing a little closer with an outstretched hand. “They hurt your paw, didn’t they?”

The kit calmed down after a moment, as if it could understand what he was saying. He sniffed the stranger’s hand as it slowly came around and scooped him up off the ground. For a second, he struggled to stay balanced and decide how to react as the man drew him close and propped him up by his chest.

“Geez…” The man sighed, examining the injured paw carefully.

He lowered a hand to a pouch by his side and dug around in it. After another moment, he brought out a small vial and pulled the cork out with his teeth, pouring the clear liquid onto the wound.

The fox kit watched all this and sniffed at the vial as it passed to the man’s face, then let out a pained squeal as the liquid stung its wound. He squirmed unhappily and tried to break free, but the man quickly deposited the vial on the ground and held him steady, cooing in that low gentle voice. After a moment, the pain subsided all together. The kit calmed down again, panting slightly and watching as the man now moved to bandage up the foot securely.

Finished, he smiled at the small kit and scratched behind its ear, “There…all better.”

The kit purred at the scratching, then sniffed his paw and then the man’s hand. Suddenly, he let out a happy squeal and tackled the kind stranger, licking him with a great deal of enthusiasm.