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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SteelTrim on 2025-11-05 05:42:04+00:00.

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John’s mind blanked.

For a moment, there was nothing; no thoughts put to words, just an overwhelming sense of worry. The fugue didn’t last long, though. Something snapped deep in his core as he took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting down the sudden incandescent rage that threatened to burn him up from the inside out.

How dare she? What gave Kiku the right to come stomping around here like she was the queen of the universe and ruin everything like some god damn drunk driver? Things were actually getting better for once!

Perhaps he was right, and that every bit of brightness came with a hidden dagger, waiting to punch its way right into your guts. He shouldn’t have let his guard down so much.

He—he was going to fix this. Somehow. The problem would be resolved, and Kiku would never dare set foot in this region again by the time he was done with her. He had to make sure that there was nowhere to hide, nowhere where she could go to catch her breath.

What frustrated him the most was the question of how. It was impossible to fight a shadow, and for all her flaws, Kiku was maddeningly evasive, with her presence more felt than seen.

He took in air deeply and shuddered, violent energy once more trying to violently escape as he felt the urge to put his fist straight through the nearest wall.

John turned to Yuki. “Pardon me for a moment, I might be a bit loud,” he shakily said.

A smile, so faint that he almost didn’t notice it, graced Yuki’s face. “Please, go ahead.”

He opened his mouth and intended to curse Kiku out with words that had never been spoken on this world, he really did. Instead, what issued forth from his lungs was more of a primal, pained roar as he screamed his frustrations to the aether, reverberating off the walls.

It stretched on unto eternity, and he didn’t know he could shout that long as his lungs burned and stars danced at the edges of his eyes, but it turned out his lungs could hold more than expected. By the time it was over, he was a heaving, panting mess, and he had to roughly clasp a hand onto wood shelving to make sure he didn’t tip over. His lungs burned, his eyes watered, and his throat hurt from the sheer exertion.

Yet, his mind felt clearer and more focused than it had any right to be.

“Better?” Yuki asked.

After a moment, he nodded. “Surprisingly? Yeah.” He felt more ready to act, at least.

Now that he thought more about it, everyone upstairs probably had questions, and the couple were probably scared half to death by his banshee-esque shrieking. Nobody came rushing down the stairs, though, so Rin probably knew he was fine, somehow.

“It’s fine, we can deal with this,” he sighed. “Now that I think of it, it isn’t quite as bad as I thought, although we might have to take some cuts.” John stopped, glancing around at the various sealed containers containing the more volatile foods. “The jars are still sealed, so Aiki physically couldn’t have spoiled those, but everything else? We can’t test it without knowing what she might have put on it.” He paused for just a beat as something came to mind. “Wait. You said that there was no way she’d be able to use a poison that would disable me and still affect you, right? What about Rin?”

“I’m unsure about Rin, but in the short term, she should be fine,” Yuki said, “If she spent months eating tainted products, whatever it is might build up into affecting her.”

“So, the town is, in theory, safer for Aiki and Haru right now than here now that the priests put those wards up and the tax collectors are dealt with, right?” John asked. “Should we drop them and, uh, that tax collector we still have locked up? I think his name was Kaito? None of them knows anything secret, and odds are that anything that Kiku could get out of them she already got from her alone time with Aiki. That alone already cuts our food load in half, plus you can still eat the potentially spoiled stuff.” He paused, just for a beat, as a new worry bloomed in his mind. “What if she expected us to see this? After all, you don’t shed, so neither does she; thus, that hair may be there as bait, somehow.”

“No, it’d be too likely to blow away or get lost. If I were her, I’d leave better, less unstable bait, like a mysterious bag of coins that happened to have a hair in it,” the kitsune mused, shaking her head. “It’s possible that it came loose during our last fight, and only fell off now. Nevertheless, I’d carefully wash everything in the kitchen, too. Dropping some poison in a cup would be terribly easy and not arouse much suspicion. Perhaps she tried to poison the well, but your curious system of filters should handle most common poisons she could acquire locally.”

He didn’t even think about that. He really, really should have.

“Besides that point, your idea has merit. I enjoy Aiki and Haru’s presence, but they’re liabilities right now. About Kaito…” Mischief flashed in her eyes, and a wide grin crossed her face as she made a big show of scratching her chin. “We have some money now, and his kind may still think him a traitor. Perhaps he could hire him as a food taster.”

A vision of the man they held captive, weeping over a bowl of vegetables as Yuki loomed over him, forcing him to eat under the shroud of her intimidating presence flashed through his mind.

“Yuki, no,” John said. “We don’t need another person who is too scared to have a conversation with us hanging around.”

“You’re right, we could keep him in the room to avoid having to pay him,” she admitted, sighing dramatically. “Either that, or we could feed him a selection of tainted foods before we send him on his way and see if he dies on the walk back. If we’re lucky, perhaps he’ll get fed to the Greater Nameless and get it sick.”

“Please don’t,” John groaned. He was fairly sure she was messing with him, but the kitsune was a natural actor, even if that put-upon sigh seemingly gave the game away. Of course, there was always the chance that some “Haha, just joking… Unless…” shenanigans were in play, but he refused to believe Yuki would stoop to the level of some of the most desperate souls he had seen online.

“We could solve a few issues with a single choice,” she mused, before finally shaking her head. “No, you’re right. It’s best to have a loyal food taster. Empress Mariko died that way back in my time; the head of the previous dynasty, whom she used as a shield against plots by his loyalists, managed to poison himself so completely that even his saliva was enough to taint the young empress’ drink, starting another succession war.”

For a moment, John just stared unblinkingly at his companion. If nothing else, that was an admirable level of commitment, even if it was surreal to imagine how long ago that must have been.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he muttered in response, unsure of how else to respond, pausing for an uncomfortably long time. “How the hell did you end up so nice when Kiku’s so… like this?” John hesitantly asked.

Yuki’s smile did not flicker, but she turned to John and stared at him with uncomfortable intensity.

John broke eye contact first, looking away and cringing. “Sorry. I didn’t think what I said through.”

Yuki gently placed a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched at the unexpected contact. “I ask the same thing, sometimes.”

John opened his mouth, unsure if he should say anything. He hadn’t thought about it much then, but in retrospect swore she dropped a hint. How much could he trust his memory?

“Kiku did mention something about a betrayal, but she didn’t elaborate,” John said once he gathered his courage.

When he finally looked up, he saw that Yuki’s gaze was boring into him with uncommon, steely intensity. “Are you sure she didn’t mention anything else?” asked the kitsune.

“Yes,” John said, shaking his head. “She seemed bitter about it, though. I don’t know why I didn’t think more about it before.” Could some trauma be the reason behind the sister’s ill temper? Perhaps more importantly, was it something from Yuki’s earlier years or just before she was cast down and locked away? With the assorted mix of memories each of the kitsune sisters seemed to have, it could easily be either.

That gentle hand drifted along his neck before patting him on the head. It was his turn to glare at the kitsune, even if there was no heat to it.

“You were preoccupied. There’s no shame in that,” Yuki stated.

John broke eye contact first. “We should let them know. Maybe we’ll bring them back tomorrow, if this storm lets up.” Of course, this might be some kind of attempt to lure them into the open with fragile non-combatants to protect, but that was too conspiratorial, even for John, and if he locked himself up thinking about every “what if” he’d never get anything done.

“Of course. Do you want to deliver the news, or should I?” she inquired.

John paused. It was tempting to say no, to squirrel himself away on a project and not think about how much they may hate him now, but something in his heart wouldn’t let him. Was it guilt? The sneaking suspicion that they feared Yuki even more than him? He didn’t know.

What he did know was that he had to do right by them. They needed a proper explanation, and he could only pray he was strong en…

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