Chapter Text
There are ways things are to be done - ancient ways, older than even the grandfather of his esteemed Grandfather - ways that bind flesh and soul to the land that the worthy might be granted due prosperity.
The tradition invoked is far greater than himself, all-important for the future of their clan and those myriad lives they oversee.
But as the world moves on, if those who adhere the ancient ways fall stagnant, they will succumb to the same fate as their many forebears forgotten even by legend. In an effort to weather this tide of change, it is with the greatest scrutiny and hesitance that the young fox is permitted singular leniency.
After all, not even the most stringent elder can deny that it is no mere coincidence that his savior-bound and Divine-born are one and the same.
In this generation, the fox's fortune at last shines upon its own.
Kotoyuki,
Since the start of their correspondence, he no longer looks upon the name with bland disinterest.
When she writes the now-familiar characters - at first distant and formal, the strokes becoming more familiar with time and experience - he caresses the ink of each as if they were those he was born to in truth, rather than adopted when her kindness claimed his heart.
Theirs is a tie deeper than will, binding one of his blood to an earnest savior. The soul he shares becomes a mask and identity both, one he wears and one he learns until fox and human memories bleed, indistinguishable - until he is no longer nameless Inari, but something else - something worthy of the Divine Maiden and the oversweet temptation that is her blood.
With a patience belying his eagerness, the fox now known as Kotoyuki continues reading.
Shimizu Hinako paints a picture of a small city in budding spring, with soils rich and dark and a faint breeze warming the streets as the hours pass. She speaks of the myriad small lives running through open fields and winding forest paths, not knowing that they observe her as eagerly as she does them.
She writes and Kotoyuki savors every word, wanting nothing more than to accompany her as the gentle caress of wind on her face or the song of familiar birds, that he might lull her into the comforts of security.
But he is neither strong enough, nor human enough, to do either.
Not yet.
"Things were easier once." Is all his Grandfather says, frown stern and unyielding as he critiques the planned festivities.
In the past, they needn't have bothered with trivialities like outsiders and their mortal families.
The rituals were their own; humans needn't be involved.
Kotoyuki holds his tongue, outwardly deferring to his elder with a respectful tilt of acknowledgment.
It is not the outsiders which trouble him; Kotoyuki's troubles run far deeper than worries of broken tradition.
At the forest's edge they had walked, hand in hand, warm midday light banishing any deep shadows that yet linger, waiting for their opportunity to claim the land under the once-steady sun.
They must know too, recognizing Hinako for what she is, their distracting whispers humming through ancient lands. They are a distraction easily banished - far more challenging are their servants. Emerging in dreams, they whisper falsehoods of lingering darkness and its growing influence to those who might listen - to those most blinded by love, unquestioning of their validity. Instead, they take the predatory Gods' words to heart, using them to justify their growing insecurities.
It had taken all of his willpower to hold his tongue when his astute fox's senses overheard Sakuko's warnings and Shu's uncharacteristic urging. Having no intention of intruding - Hinako's decisions are hers to make, even if it means continuing playing at being mortal - he feigned ignorance, but he plans nonetheless, preparing for the external influences rising beyond his clan's waning reach.
If the elders knew, Kotoyuki's request for time would be nullified and the ritual begun in earnest. Such is a conclusion he cannot allow; he seeks neither sacrifice nor Divine Maiden, only his savior-bound:
A bird for now - for as long as she desires - but a vixen in time, a predator freer than even the skies allow.
Clan head he may be, his heart has long been claimed by the rule of her den.
And so he watches and he waits, raising his arm to the skies, a perch that Hinako might claim the heavens themselves, as is her right at his side.