Tanuki Tea
I hated lighting the candles in the main hall.
Two hundred and seventy-seven. There were two hundred and seventy-seven candles that had to be lit, individually, around the room. Every evening, before sundown, so the monks could hold their nightly meditations. I dont remember when it officially became my duty to light the candles; I suspected Denga or Nitoru had suggested the idea to Master Jin, the old monk who cared for the hall, to teach me patience and dedication. Certainly, you had to have both for this task. The main hall was enormous, with towering pillars and dark wood floors polished to such a sheen that you could see every flickering candle flame within. At the end of the hall stood the enormous green statue of the Jade Prophet, whose teachings all monks sought to emulate. There were no windows, and the only natural light came through the massive wooden doorway at the entrance, so the chamber was constantly dark and quiet. When all the candles were lit, they created a hazy orange glow throughout the room, transforming the hall into a surreal haven of shadow and dancing lights.
But it took forever to light them all.
I sighed, lowering the candlestick to gaze mournfully around the room. So many more to go. I hadnt even reached the thirty or so candles on the altar. If only there was a way to light them all at once...
I paused, and a grin spread across my face at the idea. Actually, I could light them all at once. I was kitsune, after all. Kitsune-bi was fire, wasnt it? Heatless, magical fire, but much easier to manipulate than normal flames. The monks wouldnt like it, of course. Nitoru and Denga definitely would not approve, but then, they didnt approve of anything I did.
I blew out the candle in my hand, then set it on the floor. Rising, I half closed my eyes, brought my open palm before my face and called on my magic.
A ghostly, blue-white flame sputtered to life between my fingers. It flickered and danced harmlessly against my skin, casting eerie shadows over the walls and pillars, growing steadily larger until I cupped a glowing sphere of foxfire. For just a moment, I saw my shadow on the wall of the temple: a human figure with pointed ears and a bushy tail rippling behind it.
Raising my head, I flung my hand out in an arc, and kitsune-bi scattered in all directions, tiny flames that flew across the room like falling stars. Lowering my arm, I observed my handiwork smugly. The hall now glowed with blue-white foxfire, luminescent flames that hovered on the end of candlewicks. In my opinion, it was much prettier than ordinary fire, though it did give the chamber a rather eerie, ghostly feel.
But more important, all the candles were lit. And it was still a good hour until evening meditations. I was free until then. Dusting my hands, I headed for the exit.
Voices outside made me freeze. I sidled along the wall to the door and peeked through the frame. Jin was walking up the steps toward the main hall and worse, Denga was beside him.
Oh no. My ears flattened in alarm, and I backed swiftly away. If they caught me, Id probably get a lecture: maybe on the value of patience and dedication to ones task. Maybe theyd forbid me from using magic again. At the very least, theyd make me start over, lighting every candle one by one, under supervision this time.
Hiding place. I need a hiding place, quickly.
I hurried to the far wall and, with a whispered apology, ducked behind the enormous statue of the Jade Prophet, just as a furious shout rang from the entrance.
Foxfire! Dengas footsteps stalked into the room, and I peeked from behind the statue to watch him. The kitsune-bi cast a flickering white glow over his outraged face as he whirled, gesturing furiously. The demon girl lit the candles with foxfire! Of all the... He sputtered with rage. When I find her
Now, Denga-san. Jins voice echoed behind Denga, calm and amused. She is just a child, after all, and a kitsune at that. She does not understand.
No. Denga spun one more time, glaring around the hall, before he turned and marched back toward the exit. This has gone far enough. Its become perfectly clear that she is more fox than mortal, that her yokai nature is overshadowing her humanity. Something must be done. Ill not stand for her pranks any longer.
Jin blinked, watching him depart. What are you planning to do, Denga-san?
Speak to Master Isao and convince him to put a binding on her, Denga replied, making my stomach twist. His voice drifted up the steps as he left the hall. Seal away that infernal fox magic for good. Before we wake up and find a true demon in our midst.
My heart pounded. Jin watched Denga storm off, then sighed and began blowing out the kitsune-bi flames above the candles. He extinguished them one at a time, slowly and deliberately, his entire attention focused on his task. He would be done in a few minutes, but I did not want to stay here any longer, in case Denga returned with Master Isao and made good on his promise. Trying to slip out while Jin was in the room would likely get me caught, but I had one last, supremely forbidden, trick up my sleeve.
At the statues base, I knelt, dug my fingers between a certain board and lifted it away, revealing a narrow hole that led under the floor of the main hall. It was too small for a human, even a petite human, to fit through. But I wasnt just human. I was also kitsune.
Closing my eyes, I summoned my power once more, feeling my heart start to pound with anticipation. Most fox magic was illusion and trickery, just as Denga had said. Images laid over truth, making you see and hear things that werent there. Flawless copies, but no more substantial than a reflection in a mirror. But there was one form that I could shapeshift into for real, though I was forbidden from using it without permission.
Today seemed a good day to break all the rules.
My body grew warm, and I experienced the abrupt sensation of shrinking rapidly, along with the familiar cloud of white smoke. When I opened my eyes, I was much closer to the floor. Sounds were sharper, shadows nearly nonexistent, and the air was alive with new smells: the musty earth, the sharp tang of metal and the hint of candle smoke still in the air. In the blurred reflection in the statues pedestal, a pointed muzzle and golden eyes stared back at me, a bushy, white-tipped tail curled around its legs.
Master Isao did not approve of me being a fox. You are human, hed told me on more than one occasion. Yes, you are kitsune, but being Yumeko is much harder than being a fox. If you spend too much time in that body, someday you might forget what it means to be mortal.
I wasnt quite sure what he meant by that and right now, it didnt matter. Ducking my head, I slipped easily into the hole, glided beneath the floorboards and came out beneath the veranda. After making sure no monks, and especially Master Isao, were nearby, I headed into the garden, to the old maple tree leaning against the temple walls. Fox paws were quick and nimble, and the wood was very rough; I scurried up the gnarled trunk, dropped to the other side and escaped into the cool stillness of the forest.
* * *
Later that evening, I was sitting on a flat rock beside my favorite quiet pond, dangling my bare feet in the water, as I pondered what to do next. Jewellike dragonflies zipped over the mirrorlike surface, and small whiskered fish swam lazily below my feet, eyeing my human-again toes. The sun had warmed the rock, and a breeze whispered through the bamboo grove surrounding the pond. It was a good place to forget your troubles, and I often came here when life at the temple got too dull, or when I was hiding from Denga. Normally, the water, the breeze and the fish could erase my worries in no time. But today, I couldnt forget what had been said in the temple hall.
Seal away my magic? Just like that? Make it so I couldnt weave illusions, change my shape, or call upon my foxfire? That seemed excessive. Id never actually hurt anything with my pranks, except Dengas pride. And maybe a sliding panel or two.
I glanced at my reflection in the water. A girl with pointed ears and yellow eyes stared back, bushy tail curled behind her. She is more fox than mortal, Denga had raged as hed stormed out of the hall this evening. Her yokai nature is overshadowing her humanity.
Thats not true, I told the kitsune staring back at me. Im still mostly human. At least, I think I am.
Talking to yourself, little fox cub?
I glanced up. A squat old woman was making her way slowly around the edge of the pond. She wore a ragged robe, a wide-brimmed straw hat and tall wooden sandals that sank into the grass as she minced along the bank. In one gnarled hand she held a bamboo pole, resting on a shoulder; the other gripped a cluster of tiny fish dangling from a string. Her eyes glimmered yellow beneath the brim of her hat as she looked up at me.
I smiled. Good evening, Tanuki-baba, I greeted politely. What are you doing out here?
The old woman snorted and raised the cluster of fish. Planting flowers, what does it look like?
I frowned in confusion. But...those are fish. Why would you be planting flowers, Tanuki-baba? You dont eat them.
Exactly. Some of us actually have to work for our food, unlike some spoiled, naive half foxes I wont name. She eyed me from under her hat, raising a thin gray eyebrow. But what are you doing out so late, cub? Those humans of yours dont like it when you wander off. She chuckled, showing a flash of yellow teeth. Is Denga-san on the warpath? Did you turn the cat into a teakettle again?
No, not in a long timeit scratches me when I try to put a leaf on its head. But... I shivered, clutching at my arms. The sun-warmed rock suddenly felt cold. Denga-san was angry, I told her. More than Ive ever seen before. He said I was more yokai than human, and that Master Isao should put a binding on me. What if Master Isao listens to him? What if he really does seal off my magic? I... I faltered, feeling my stomach twist at the thought losing my power. I cant imagine having no magic. It would be worse than cutting off my fingers or plucking out my eyes. If that happens, what will I do?
Tanuki-baba snorted. Come, she said, gesturing down the trail with the end of her bamboo rod. Ill make you some tea.
I hopped down and followed the hunched form away from the pond, onto the narrow winding path through the bamboo forest. Her pole bobbed as she walked, and the tip of a bushy brown tail peeked from beneath the hem of her robe. I pretended not to notice, just as I knew she pretended not to see my ears and tail. It was an unspoken rule among yokai; one did not call attention to their...yokai-ness if one did not want be haunted, harassed, or cursed with extremely bad luck. Not that I was afraid Tanuki-baba would do so. To me she had always been a grandmotherly old yokai, and the stories of the tricks she used to play on humans when she was a young tanuki were always entertaining, if sometimes scary.
We emerged from the bamboo into a deeper, darker part of the forest. Here, ancient trees grew close together, intertwining branches nearly shutting out the sun. Thin streams of light cut weakly through the leaves, dappling the forest floor, and the air had a still, almost reverent feel. Curious kodama, the tree spirits of the forest, peered at us from behind leaves or followed us down the trail, their ethereal green bodies no larger than my finger.
Tanuki-baba led me along a familiar babbling brook, over a tiny arched bridge that was being eaten by toadstools and fungi, and toward a wooden hut that had been completely swallowed by moss. Long, long ago, shed said, it had belonged to a yamabushi, a wandering priest who sought harmony and balance within nature, who could see and communicate directly with the kami. But that mortal had moved on or died, and the hut was now hers. Part of the thatched roof had fallen in and trees and brush surrounded it; if you didnt know there was a dwelling there, you might miss it in the vegetation. The interior, as always, was a mess, with junk piled in every corner and along every wall.
Sit, Tanuki-baba gruffed, gesturing to a low wooden table in the center of the floor, the only clear space in the room. Ill make us some teaassuming I can find the pot, that is.
There were two or three teapots resting in different places throughout the clutter. I didnt say anything, because my suggestions were always met with refusal. That teapot was cracked, or dirty, or had a family of birds living in it. No, the right teapot was here, somewhere, and only she could find it. I knelt at the wooden table until Tanuki-baba finally stumbled upon what she was looking for, an ancient and dinged iron pot, and yanked it out of the pile.
Empty, she sighed, peering in the top. Thats good, I suppose. No mice this time. Means I have to fill it up, though. Ill be right back, she told me, waddling out again. Dont touch anything.
I waited patiently, rolling little flames of kitsune-bi across the table surface, while Tanuki-baba filled the teapot, set it on the brazier and lit the coals at the bottom. She then bustled about the room, taking things from the clutter along the walls and muttering to herself. Finally, she returned to the table with the teapot, two chipped cups and a tray bearing the fish she had caught, still raw and unscaled, laid out in a row.
Ahhh, she sighed, settling onto the threadbare pillow opposite me. After several moments of shifting around and making herself comfortable, she took off her hat and tossed it in a corner, where it blended into the clutter. Politely, I dropped my gaze, careful not to glance at the round, furry ears that poked up from the top of her gray head. Go on and pour the tea, cub, Tanuki-baba ordered, waving a hand at the pot and cups. At least make yourself useful.
I carefully poured a thin green liquid into the two cups, then offered one to her. She took it with a crooked smile and set it down before her.
You dont mind if I switch forms while we eat, do you? she asked, eyeing the tray of fish in the center of the table. This body is more useful for tea-making, but Id rather be comfortable in my own house.
I shook my head. Not at all, Tanuki-baba. Please do.
She snorted, raised her head and shook herself. Dust flew everywhere, rising from her body like a cloud, swirling into the room. I sneezed, turning away from the explosion, and when I glanced back, a furry brown creature with a dark mask and a bushy tail sat where the old woman had been. I set a teacup in front of her, and she picked it up with two dark brown paws before raising it to her narrow muzzle.
Ah, much better. She put the cup down with a clink and snatched a fish from the tray, tossing the whole thing into her jaws before crunching down with sharp yellow teeth. Now, she continued, as I sipped my tea. It was far more bitter than I liked, but it wasnt polite to say so. Tell me then, cub. What kind of trouble have you gotten into with those humans of yours?
Briefly, I told her about my trick with the candles this evening, and how it had infuriated the monks, particularly Denga-san. When I got to the part about Denga wanting Master Isao to seal away my magic, Tanuki-baba gave a violent snort and nearly knocked over her teacup.