Rahn lowered his head, still trembling like a leaf.

　　A large puddle of urine had formed beneath him.

　　The little fox was barely bigger than Celia’s palm. The falling cabinet must have seemed like a mountain collapsing on top of him.

　　Celia showed no reaction.

　　She hurried to a nearby shelf, grabbed the first piece of cloth she could find, and carefully wrapped it around the shaken cub. Then she discreetly blotted up every trace of urine beneath him.

　　“You’re not hurt, are you?”

　　She tucked the heavy, yellow-stained cloth against her chest, concealing it from view.

　　Rahn stared up at her, dazed.

　　Celia ran her hands over him, checking carefully for injuries. Once she was certain he was unharmed, she let out a relieved breath.

　　“Thank goodness.”

　　Without the slightest hesitation, she gathered both Rahn and the damp cloth into her arms and headed for the bathroom.

　　Only after unfolding it did she realize the cloth was the wool sweater she had bought for winter.

　　I suppose I can’t wear this anymore.

　　Celia dismissed the loss and adjusted the water temperature.

　　The thick layer of bubbles in the tub had long since gone flat.

　　Rahn’s scrawny little body was still shivering, and the sight tugged at her heart.

　　“Are you cold?”

　　She began rinsing his silver fur with lukewarm water, gently squeezing the urine-soaked strands with her fingers.

　　Rahn sat rigidly still.

　　He didn’t resist at all.

　　“Good boy.”

　　Celia set the little duck toy in front of him.

　　“Here you are.”

　　Rahn stared blankly at it.

　　While he studied the duck, Celia finished rinsing him and wrapped him snugly in a soft towel.

　　“Do you like the duck?”

　　She tucked the toy inside the towel with him and took one firm step toward the living room.

　　A short groan escaped her.

　　Rahn’s drooping ears shot upright.

　　He turned sharply toward Celia.

　　Her eyes were squeezed shut, so she didn’t notice him watching.

　　Cold sweat had beaded across her forehead.

　　She looked as though she were in terrible pain.

　　Celia opened her eyes, her face drained white.

　　Even so, she carefully dried the oddly restless fox from head to tail before going into the bathroom to shower.

　　A little while later, she emerged wearing nothing but a robe.

　　Her ankle had swollen up like a pufferfish.

　　“Of all places, it had to be my ankle.”

　　She muttered as though it were merely inconvenient, then sank onto the sofa as though nothing serious had happened.

　　Rahn sat motionless in the middle of the living room and watched her for a long time.

　　“What’s wrong? Are you bored?”

　　Until now, every day between Celia and Rahn had been one long battle.

　　Celia was impossibly stubborn. Day after day, she kept talking to an animal—no, a demon—that couldn’t answer her and did little but attack.

　　How could anyone be as steadfast as an old pine?

　　“Rahn?”

　　His brilliant golden eyes lifted to hers.

　　Celia peered at him with her clear, guileless gaze.

　　“What’s wrong? You already fed on animal essence today… Are you hungry?”

　　She tilted her head, rose from the sofa, and limped toward the kitchen.

　　His mother’s voice echoed in his memory.

　　“When you meet the human who calls your name, cherish them. Protect them. Do you understand?”

　　Those had been some of her final words.

　　“Don’t let go, Rahn. Never let go…”

　　Rahn had always found that strange.

　　Why had his mother specifically said a human?

　　The one who called his name could have been a sacred beast.

　　Or another demon.

　　It was almost as though she had known in advance that Rahn and Celia would meet.

　　Rahn let out a low, troubled whine and followed her.

　　Celia was standing in the kitchen, debating which of the many treats she had carefully saved would be best.

　　She selected some dried beef and limped back toward the living room.

　　Rahn gave a soft chirp and followed closely behind.

　　Stay put. Stop moving.

　　That was what he meant.

　　“I’ll give it to you in a second.”

　　Celia, naturally, understood something entirely different.

　　She eagerly tore off a piece of meat, then held it toward him with an open, almost childlike smile.

　　“Here. Want to smell it? It smells sweet.”

　　Rahn only looked into her eyes.

　　“You don’t like it? That’s strange. They said it was made with good meat…”

　　Disappointment crossed Celia’s face as she sniffed the treat herself.

　　She seemed more bothered by Rahn rejecting the food than by her injured ankle.

　　His gaze dropped to the badly swollen joint.

　　She had hurt it saving him.

　　Her hand still carried the acrid smell of urine from wiping him clean with her bare fingers.

　　And she hadn’t so much as changed expression while doing it.

　　Rahn lowered his pointed nose to her ankle and sniffed.

　　Then he licked the swollen skin two or three times.

　　It was the first gesture of goodwill Rahn had ever shown Celia. Small but unmistakable, and unexpectedly touching.

　　And yet Celia…

　　“So humans really do taste good.”

　　Rahn stopped licking.

　　He slowly raised his head.

　　His disbelief was so profound that his expression went almost blank.

　　Hopelessly oblivious, Celia took his look as confirmation.

　　“You can’t eat people.”

　　Rahn made a wounded little sound.

　　As if he had licked her because he wanted to chew on her flesh.

　　But Celia had already turned stern.

　　“No. If you hurt a person, I’ll have no choice but to lock you up.”

　　Rahn yelped indignantly.

　　“Do humans really taste that good? Are you low on life essence?”

　　Celia’s expression grew even more troubled.

　　She shook her head and stood.

　　A sharp pain shot all the way up her thigh, making her wince.

　　Rahn had been circling her anxiously. Now he threw back his head and let out a long, frustrated howl.

　　He was even making strange noises now.

　　Celia grew serious.

　　He must really be hungry.

　　She started walking.

　　Rahn immediately hurried after her, whining at every step as though scolding her.

　　Sit down and stop moving!

　　“Yes, yes. I understand. I’ll feed you right away.”

　　His complaints grew even more frantic.

　　Your ankle hurts! I’m telling you to rest!

　　“There, there. Look at you rushing me for once.”

　　Celia reached for the birdcage in the corner.

　　The moment she put weight on her ankle, she bit down hard on her lower lip.

　　“I should stop by the infirmary tomorrow.”

　　Rahn was so frustrated he felt he might lose his mind.

　　He let out another long howl.

　　“All right. We’ll eat here today.”

　　Celia removed the cotton cloth covering the birdcage.

　　The chicken inside spotted the nine-tailed fox and shrieked in terror.

　　“Eat the chicken. Not people.”

　　Rahn stared at her. And at last, the extraordinary nine-tailed fox understood.

　　Celia was hopeless at taking hints.

　　A sly male nine-tailed fox, more foxlike than any fox, and a holy knight with not a shred of social intuition were now living under one roof. Their life together promised rough waters ahead.

* * *

　　“So she took in the nine-tailed fox cub.”

　　A man dressed from head to toe in a pristine white formal uniform stood gazing out the window, the corners of his mouth curving upward.

　　His tie, vest, even his buttons were white.

　　He looked as though he had been made from snow.

　　His hair was white as well, matching his clothes, and anyone unfamiliar with him might have taken him for a high-ranking priest.

　　He tapped his forearm with one white-gloved hand.

　　“Then the nine-tailed fox truly is a demon carrying the power of a sacred beast.”

　　“It was wise not to kill him along with his mother, the Celestial Fox.”

　　“Yes. If Celia recognized what he was, then he truly must have been born of a sacred beast.” The man’s strangely luminous silver eyes clouded as though he were looking into the past. “Celia is twenty-three now, isn’t she?”

　　He returned to his seat behind a spotless desk without a speck of dust upon it, then picked up a quill.

　　“Twenty-three years. She really is stubborn.”

　　His neat, composed features did not change as he murmured the words.

　　“She clings so desperately to life that it pains even me to watch.” He paused briefly. “But she’ll die in the end anyway. She doesn’t even realize all that effort is pointless.”

　　The man gestured toward the enormous full-length mirror beside the window.

　　His reflection disappeared; Celia appeared in its place.

　　“Look. She even became a holy knight just to stay alive. Such a frightened child. That only makes me feel worse.”

　　His expression darkened.

　　“Isn’t fate terribly cruel?”

　　At that moment, the Celia inside the mirror lifted Rahn into her arms. The fox settled against her with a sullen expression. Then his golden gaze shifted abruptly and fixed on the man beyond the mirror.

　　Cracks webbed across the glass.

　　The smile disappeared from the man’s lips.

　　For one instant, every broken shard turned black. Then the fractured mirror reflected his distorted image once more.

　　“The cub has quite a bit of demonic power.”

　　“Do you think he knew what he was doing?”

　　“What could something that young possibly know?”

　　The man spoke serenely.

　　“Once the nine-tailed fox reaches adulthood, we’ll have to kill him. Celia will raise him well. By then, he should have become a sacred beast.”

　　His quill continued moving across the page as he gave the order.

　　“He’ll only become troublesome if we let him grow any further.”

　　“Yes.”

　　The attendant kneeling before him withdrew like the wind.

　　The man continued reviewing his documents for some time. Then his eyes shifted toward the broken mirror. His thin lips parted on something like a sigh.

　　“Living is painful, isn’t it, Celia?”

　　There was no one to answer him.

　　“Death would make everything easier. Foolish child.”

　　He murmured softly.

　　“Stop struggling and kill yourself.”

　　He didn’t want to stain his own hands with her blood.

　　Then he could bury her somewhere warm beneath the sun and leave lilies for her every year. He would record her holy sacrifice and ensure that her name endured for generations to come.

　　That was why he whispered, “Die, Celia. Do you understand?”

　　An elegant smile settled over the man’s thin lips.