Kenji and Ro traveled deep into the forest.
The crescent moon hung low, casting pale light through the canopy. Kenji moved easily between the trees, the forest a familiar presence to him. Ro, on the other hand, relied heavily on the lantern's glow to keep from tripping over roots and stones.
"Alright," Ro muttered, slowing to a stop. "That old man won't sense me from here."
He dropped to one knee. "Hop on."
Kenji blinked. "What?"
"Just do it."
Confused but trusting, Kenji climbed onto Ro's back.
Ro grinned, crouched low, and then—
He launched forward.
The world blurred.
Ro moved at an absurd speed, feet barely touching the ground. Wind tore past them as Kenji tightened his grip, refusing to let go. He wouldn't put it past his older brother to keep accelerating just to mess with him.
Even with Ro's speed, the journey took nearly thirty minutes.
Kenji kept his expectations low.
Still, a small, stubborn spark of hope burned in his chest.
"We're here," Ro said, skidding to a halt.
Kenji was dropped unceremoniously, landing on his feet. He looked up—and recognized the place instantly.
An ancient tower loomed before them, half-swallowed by vegetation. Vines clung to its cracked stone walls, trees growing unnaturally close, as if trying to reclaim it. Thick mist poured from its entrance, swallowing everything beyond a few steps.
As they approached, the fog stirred.
Pairs of yellow eyes opened within it.
Kenji and Ro stopped.
White foxes stepped out one by one—some with two tails, others three or four. They circled the brothers silently.
Ro crouched and patted one of them. "Hey, guys. Mind showing us the way?"
Kenji remained still as a few foxes sniffed around him. He felt no fear—only a distant indifference.
After a moment, the foxes turned and darted back into the mist.
Ro and Kenji followed.
The fog thinned as they moved, parting just enough to guide them forward. Soon, they stood within the tower's entrance, inside a vast, empty stone chamber.
The foxes led them to a staircase carved into the far corner, spiraling downward. A faint glow rose from below.
They descended.
At the bottom, a glowing pool of green-blue water illuminated the chamber. Strange engravings covered the surrounding walls. Beside the pool lay a massive white fox, its nine tails spread like a crown around it.
One crimson eye opened.
"Good evening, Grandma Yumiko," Ro said cheerfully.
The fox did not move its mouth, yet its voice filled the chamber—ancient, feminine, and heavy with presence.
"Did you not say you were returning home, Ro?"
Ro scratched the back of his head. "Yeah… but I figured I'd help my little brother first."
The fox's gaze shifted to Kenji.
"So," it said calmly, "you have come to try again."
Kenji lowered his head and nodded.
A soft chuckle echoed through the chamber, strange yet oddly warm.
"And here I thought you came because you missed your grandmother."
Light erupted from the fox's body—brilliant, blinding.
When it faded, a woman stood where the beast had been.
She wore an elegant kimono, her features refined and mature. White fox ears rested atop her head, and nine flowing tails swayed gently behind her. Her eyes were distinctly inhuman—feline, sharp, and ancient.
Ro barely reacted.
Kenji, however, stared, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.
"Granny," Ro said, frowning, "didn't you say you can't use that form? Said it wastes too much energy."
She glanced down at herself, one hand on her hip. "Normally, yes. But it is night. Yin energy is abundant, and the pool helps."
Her gaze returned to Kenji.
"Come, child," she said gently. "Let us begin."