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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SteelTrim on 2025-10-15 04:21:42+00:00.

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John placed the manifest in the crate before putting the lid on, taking a brief moment to write “Box 12” on the lid in charcoal to make it easily identifiable later. Then, he floated it from under the canopy to a pile of boxes with other, related things, setting it off to the side. Of course, they would have to move this all in later, but the back lot gave them more room to work.

“And that’s how I, personally, would do it,” he said to Rin, who stood nearby, carefully watching as he went through the motions. “If you ever meet someone who actually does logistics for a living, they’ll probably know a better way, but this has been more than sufficient for me.”

“I see, sensei,” Rin responded uncertainly, eyeing up the stack of heavy boxes like they were a beast that might jump out and attack her. “Why do you add a list of contents to the box, too? Isn’t that wasteful when we already have a master list?”

John’s mind immediately went to the time in university where he accidentally saved over the only copy of his “to research” list, which just happened to be called “New Document (1)”, and the immediate mad scramble.

“Can you guarantee you’ll never lose that list?” he asked. “How about whoever we hand it off to? Will they make sure to keep it safe?” John popped the lid on the next, wincing at the massive arrangement of dinnerware on display, with rough sheets of fabric shoved between them to stop the contents from breaking.

Rin shifted uneasily, answering, “No, sensei.”

“Besides, we aren’t the only ones dealing with these. Odds are the militia is going to deal with this stuff, and not every one of them will need the full list for themselves,” John said, starting to carefully take some plates out and very carefully putting them on the ground, being joined by Rin. Thankfully, he didn’t have to remind her to be gentle.

How the hell was he even going to get all this stuff back to the appropriate people? It wasn’t like they had kept an accurate log of what they had, never mind what came from where. He had found some lists of stolen goods and money when he went looking, but they generally only seemed to make note of anyone they thought they could squeeze for more.

Really, their paperwork was disgustingly poor to his untrained eye. Sure, he wasn’t expecting them to have modern logistics, but he was hoping for some bare minimum of inventory tracking. The only thing they kept a *semi-*good watch on was the money, although he could tell they were cooking the books there, and it was thus useless. The list was probably what they were actually sending to the government, so it looked like they were doing their jobs properly in case they got audited down the line.

Pretty smart, all things considered, although he had a feeling that it was Kiku’s idea. The lack of effort elsewhere could be explained by the fact that it wasn’t as if the Nameless needed their tribute to be well organized ahead of time; it had an excess of eager limbs to do the work.

The door slid open, and his head reflexively shot up, but it was just Yosuke with another crate.

“Set it down over here, please!” John called, gesturing to the stack nearby, albeit still out of the rain, before returning to work. It was a small mercy that they decided on sealed, waterproof boxes for everything. The fact that he had the telekinetic focus so they didn’t have to go out into the rain to retrieve them was nice, too. Otherwise, he’d have to get Rin to do it, lest he accidentally expose the fact that he wasn’t as physically strong as expected. Of course, he didn’t want her to get soaked and perhaps catch a cold… although Rin was aligned with storms. Maybe she’d be fine, even if her Unbound state didn’t provide some sort of blanket immunity?

Seconds later, he heard the gentle creak of wood put under pressure, and he replied with, “Thank you, I do appreciate all the help,” although he didn’t look back up. He heard Yosuke’s steps fade away not long after, lost under the patter of the rain.

A few seconds later, he realized he didn’t hear Yosuke close the door that time.

John looked up and saw Yuki stepping through the door, her monochromatic form trimmed in bright golds, a lighthouse in the murk, and she crept closer on padded feet, uncaring of the rain.

In fact, it almost skittered off her, not soaking her fur or clothing despite the weather continuing to intensify. Mentally, John added “hydrophobic coating” to her list of unfair advantages.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head, quieting him as she slinked closer, eerily silent, eyes locked on Rin.

Ah.

John looked back down, making a show of working lest the unwary target of Yuki’s fox-ish impulses catch on. It wasn’t his problem, really. He just hoped the kitsune would wait for the dragonblooded Unbound’s hands to be empty; he wasn’t ready to catch something thrown by a startled Rin. She probably had a pitch to surpass record holders by sheer strength alone.

From the corner of his vision, he saw Yuki silently standing behind Rin, looming over her like some sort of guillotine.

Work went on for a few minutes more, and he was starting to wonder when she would notice. The box was unpacked, counted, and repacked, along with some extra notes about the conditions of the contents and what they were made of, so it would be easier to find the exact owners. Honestly, it was positively baffling that they put wood, stoneware, and ceramics in the same container—absolutely deranged behaviour on behalf of whoever packed this.

On top of that, they decided to put bolts of cloth under the dinnerware layer, and under that were a few scattered tools, which he put off to the side to be repacked elsewhere in a place that made more sense.

Almost impatiently, Yuki kept leaning closer and closer, as if daring the Unbound to notice her looming presence. She was still as serene as ever, of course, perfectly calm, arms calmly at her side as she cast Rin in her shade like a towering oak, muzzle bearing a gentle smile. Still, though, there was no mistaking the warm twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

How Rin managed to remain unaware of a kitsune breathing down her neck was beyond him. Really, she should feel it that close. Was she ignoring Yuki on purpose? Was it some kind of play he just couldn’t understand the meaning of?

Rin rose back up to move and reach the other side of the box, and Yuki perfectly mirrored her, staying behind her scant inches with eerie grace. When her target settled, she stilled again.

Then, something changed.

Both of them twitched.

Without a sound, Rin slumped over like a puppet with her strings cut, and Yuki drunkenly staggered and hissed sharply, a hand going up to her forehead as she stood up, ramrod straight, searching the area.

“Rin!” he called, jumping to his feet and running over to the Unbound’s side. “Can you hear me?”

No response.

She had already begun to lean to the side, and he grabbed her before she fell the rest of the way over, easing her descent. Her eyes were closed, and he mumbled an apology as he put his ear up to her chest… but her heartbeat and breathing were both steady.

Clicking his tongue, John cursed to himself before gently laying her in the recovery position, resting her on her right side, putting the matching arm in an L shape, tucking the left under her head to support it, and finally positioning her legs to stop her from rolling onto her stomach.

When he looked up, Yuki was leaning against a wall, breathing heavily, but unbowed. “Yuki! Are you alright?” he hurriedly asked.

The kitsune hissed, a hand going up to her temple. “Other than the fact we’re under attack by the priests?” she groaned, pushing herself back to her feet.

“The priests?” John said, momentary terror searching his heart as his eyes darted around, finding nothing. “Where? How?”

More importantly, why wasn’t he affected?

“I recognized this feeling. They must have placed some sort of empowered Ofuda around,” she grunted, standing straight. “It’s suppressing yokai and those who share their blood. It’s a potent charm, and not one Rin is strong enough to bear. Yosuke, too, I wager.”

So they were alone.

Testingly, John pointed at a box and levitated it. “Everything is still working fine for me.”

“Ofuda like this and similar charms abuse purposeful flaws introduced in the design spirits by the gods, capable of influencing them in many ways as a means of control,” Yuki breathlessly explained. “As part of that, anything more than a mortal is unable to use them.”

John cursed again. “Fine. Fine! Alright, so, they put up a charm to, what, make you sick?”

“No,” Yuki stated, shaking her head. “They’ve created a zone where spiritual beings are forbidden to enter, and this is the consequence of breaking that. They shouldn’t be able to create charms this strong; the materials are too expensive.”

Kiku must have supplied what they needed.

“We have to leave, get back to the fort,” John stated, then paused. “Wait. What are the odds they already put these up there, too? Should we go somewhere else for you to recover?”

Yuki shook her head, wincing at the motion. "No, the feeling of this charm is distinct, and one I recognize; they w…

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