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Chapter Sixteen : The Kitsune


Hung stood before me attired in black soccer pants and a sleeveless thin neon orange hoody. His shoes were neon orange Adidas sneakers. His black hair was spiky and he wore his charming smirk.

"You can never be too careful around a fox," he said as he stepped forward. I scrambled up and the fox fell back onto the base of the cage, and it chattered angrily. I muttered an apology to him.

"Hey, Hung," l said.

Hung ran his long fingers through his moist hair and drops of water beaded down his forehead and into his hoody. I grimaced.

"Hey. Are you feeling well? Or are you under the fox's spell?"

The fox glowered at him and swished his tail angrily.I rolled my eyes and bent down by his cage.. It didn't illicit a response from the animal because he continued glaring at Hung. It was then that l noticed a placard on top of its cage. It had a beautifully tilted sign which said:

Kitsune

"Kitsune," l said out loud.

"Another shape shifter.... Do you think you can change back?" l said to the fox.

"Kitsunes are not people who become foxes, it's the opposite," he used his lithe fingers to illustrate the notion.

My eyes widened.

"Really?"

The lithe fox nodded its head and peered at me withhis round brown eyes.

"Mhmm," he said leaning against the cage.

He picked at his nails and smirked at me once more.

"You don't know much about them," he said.

"So, l'll tell you about the Kitsune. This is a well known creature which is infamous for being a trickster," he shuffled his feet.

"What do you mean?" l said.

"The Kitsune is an entity-a spiritual entity-which lurks by the grave of the dead. It enters the person's body and takes on their former appearance. The word Kitsune means fox in Japanese. Often these creatures are depicted in stories, in Asia, as intelligent and facetious creatures. They interact with humans incredibly; sometimes they become lovers, spouses, advisers or great friends to us, but...."

He squinted at the fox then.

"They can sometimes wreak havoc," he whispered.

The fox rolled its eyes.

"Stop that," l said.

Hung's brows lowered which caused his forehead to wrinkle.

"Stop what?"

I laughed.

"Dude, not you. I was talking to him," l said pointing my index finger at the petite fox.

He sighed.

"Oh," he sounded disappointed.

"What is the problem?"

"You are getting attached aren't you?You really shouldn't...Didn't Phineas tell you what happens to them?"

I faltered.

"H...he did but this one seems so..."

"Human?" he said.

"Yes," I knelt to cage level.

The fox stepped closer and chirped at me.I put my hand out and he bumped my hand with his soft furry head. He then gazed at me with deep, profound eyes with too much understanding to only belong to an animal.

"Hhaa...," he said pinching his nose and rubbing his eyes.

"Foxes can't be trusted, That face is all a play to lure you in and use you," he said.

"Yeah, yeah...l get it!" I said as l stroked his cheeks.

His whiskers twitched and he closed his eyes and hummed happily.

"you don't believe me," he said.

He was confident that was the case. I rolled my eyes.

"I don't know much about shape shifters," l said.

He smiled and took my hand in his and tugged me towards another stall. I gazed back and saw the fox staring sadly back at me. I waved and its face disappeared as we converged with the crowd.

"where are you taking me?" I said.

He laughed.

"I am taking you to Sagar, an expert on all things shape shifter."

He stopped in front of a man whose head was as shiny as a glass surface, and he had a dark carpet of hair which coated his upper lip and chin.

"Hello, Brann."Hung said.

He grasped the burly man's hand, and l saw spirals and swirls of ink sketched onto his pink skin. The bald giant clenched his big fingers around Hung's skin and Hung's facial muscles stretched with effort. He smiled brokenly at the giant.

"Good afternoon, Hung. What do l owe you the pleasure?" he chortled.

He removed his hand from hung. Hung flexed his hand and winched.

"Have you seen Sagar? I want him to explain the Kitsune to Fuchsia, here."

Brann's gaze suddenly zeroed in on me. He smiled.

"Hi, there. You must be Fuchsia, right?" l said.

"in the flesh," l said.

"it's good to meet another Martin; will you take up the mantle after your mother retires?"

I shook my head.

I'd rather not.

"That's unfortunate," he said.

He frowned then he picked up a sheathed scabbard. He removed it from its red leather casing and spit on the grubby cloth lying next to the casing. Hung and l silently grimaced as a big glob of saliva coated the metal. He shook the cloth and wiped the sword reverently like it was a rapturous woman. He smiled at the scabbard.

"Well l'm sure you shall change ye mind. You haven't gotten to thee fun part of being a hunter,'' Brann assured.

He paused as he cleaned his sword.

"Sagar is not in the hall," he said.

He flicked the dirty material over the metal once more.

"He's in the archery field today," he added as an afterthought.

Hung rose his left and.

"Thanks, Bran," he said.

Brann did not look up. He nodded and continued with his work. Hung walked us out of the gymnasium. As we did we walked past sparring students, hunt-masters presenting mundane looking beasts, we even passed by Drake demonstrating how to skin a 'Slither'. He hacked off the serpentine creature's head and peeled off its black scales with a potato peeler. I nearly vomited because of this fishy scent that wafted towards my nostrils from that area. Hung did not falter as he moved towards the doors with a bold sign printed with 'EXIT' on top of it. We entered the hallway, as we passed the showers; we saw a big red extinguisher hung up on the wall. Hung pressed an elevator button. The elevator opened and we stepped in. The doors shut and music flowed from the speakers. Other than the singer's voice, there was no sound made in the lift.

"Numb me down to the core...Cause love don't live here anymore...hey! Oh...ahhh." The speakers sang.

"And we fought hard but we lost war. Without you, what am l living for?"

I sang along with it. Hung rose an eyebrow and leant against the bar.

"What?" l said.

He shook his head.

"I didn't think you like Bebe Rexha. She's so fun and crazy, and you're..."

I glared at him and he paused.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," l said.

"Gone," l sang before the door opened.

"Cause love don't live here anymore," he sang.

His baritone voice mixed with Rexha' silky rhythmic voice and it rang sweetly in my heart. I blushed.

"See, Fuchsia? I can sing as well as you can."

He winked at me. I walked out of the elevator and pushed him. There was a bleak room in front of the elevator. There was no light and a big white power box was before the door leading to the staircase. It was dark, drab-coloured and surprisingly clean. Maybe the cleaners had to clean this area as well. Hung opened the door and it crackled angrily. The door almost hit me in the face when he let it go. I screeched.

"Hung! You cretin! You almost hit me!"

He looked back with a devil doesn't really care facial expression. He turned on his heel and moved away from me.

"Argghh!" I shouted.

"Don't blow a gasket. A slam in the face won't kill you," he said making the gesture with his hands.

"YOU COULD'VE BROKEN MY NOSE!!"

"Uhh...no. I doubt that's an exaggeration," he insisted.

The door continued into a room. The room was only 1feet wide and 4feet high, so l had to stoop to move. I was directly behind him. The height of the room steadily decreased.

"Kneel down. The room is too miniscule for us to walk normally," he said.

I grumbled.

"Do l have to?"

"Yeah."

"Really?" l said.

He glanced back at me.

"Really," he said.

He took my arm and pulled me down.

"I'm not joking," he said.

Then he went on his knees in front of me.

"Fine," I growled.

We crawled until we reached a grill. Hung attempted to pull it open. After the first five tries he was impassioned with frustration.

"Urghh..." he swore in another language, which assumed was Chinese.

"What?" l said.

He swore again.

"I can't open this thing," he said.

I sighed.

"Try pushing it," l said impatiently.

He pushed the bottom grill and it shifted an inch.

"It's jammed," he said hitting it repeatedly.

I sighed and came up beside him. I gestured for him to move back. He raised a dark eyebrow.

"Seriously? If l can't open it what makes you think you can?"

I raised my brow and once more gestured for him to move back. He raised a dark eyebrow in total disbelief. He sighed and shimmied back; his leg touched mine as he did that. Once he was behind me l had enough space to manoeuvre. I laid on my backside and sat. I placed my feet on the grill. I kicked the grill the grill thrice and it fell back to expos light. I got my knees and smirked at Hung.

"You were saying?"

"Nothing."

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