The Nogitsune. The Mischievous Fox. A being that feeds off of chaos, thrives in war, embraces destruction. And it doesn't wait for terrible things to happen. It brings them on, ruining relationships, alliances, countries, razing everything into the ground until the final meal is ready.
The host. The most delicious meal of all – a completely broken person's soul.
The Nogitsune is, by nature, impatient. Some things, however, are worth waiting for.
He's been observing her for a while, diligently working out everything that could go wrong in her life, figuring out what the best way to ruin it completely is. After picking out a couple of the best-sounding options, it enters her mind through a dream – a nightmare – one night, and leaves her gasping for air while he nestles comfortably into the far-off nooks in her subconsciousness.
After a week, he's changed strategies. He's not that hungry – his last meal had been not too long ago, – and he thinks there is an opportunity for a much tastier dish that could satisfy him for at least fifty years afterwards. If he plays his cards right, that is.
(But then again, professional frauds don't have to rely on luck.)
The child smiles up at his mother, bringing up a flower he'd brought her on his way back from school. She smiles and thanks him, hugging him tightly, and the Nogitsune decides that there is no better moment to plant the first seed.
"He's trying to get you to let your guard down."
Claudia Stilinski blinks.
A B- in English.
"Slacking, isn't he? His mind is off these days. What is he planning?"
"Honey, why a B-? I thought you said you'd only get As this year to make us proud."
"I'm sorry, mom. There's this girl at school–she's really smart and pretty and I think I want to marry her, mom."
"Well, how are you going to impress her if you're grades are slacking?"
"You're right, mom. I'm going to try harder next time."
His childish fist-pump brings a smile on her face.
"Already replacing you. A bit early for a nine-year-old, isn't it?"
She frowns, just for a second, and he knows he's won.
When he starts crying, all she wants to do is laugh.
"Honey, can you leave me and little Mischief alone for a sec? I'd like to have a moment with him."
Her husband smiles in that pained way she's come to adore and goes out, muttering something about getting some snacks and water.
She pulls little Mischief to lie on the bed next to her (he's still small enough to fit in; she won't get to watch his growth spurt, but the flash of sadness this thought causes is quickly gone).
"Now, honey, there's one thing I want you to remember. Are you listening to me?"
He nods, tears still streaking his eyes.
"I want you to remember that there are some things in life that you will never, ever be able to overcome; I want you to remember that you can't save the people you love, no matter how hard you try, if they're meant to go away. Do you understand me, honey?"
He nods again, his tears flowing harder.
"Sometimes, these people will even want to go away. I, for one, can't wait to be gone, honey. Do you know why?"
His brows furrow and he mutters in confusion.
"Because of you, honey. It was so troublesome, having to take care of you and fight this disease. Maybe if you weren't here I'd have succeeded, but I couldn't. Now, I'm going to get some well-deserved rest. Remember this."
His eyes widen in the second before she touches him between them. Then, he slacks off, her words finding a nook in his mind to sleep.
When her husband comes back, she smiles and says the little one has fallen asleep from exhaustion. When his father shakes him awake, he rubs his eyes and grins at her sleepily.
She grins back.
He laughs. He laughs so hard Stiles' sides hurt and he doubles over, fully cognizant of the confusion and fear that is evident on the faces of the group before him.
"Tell me, Scott," he gasps, calming down, "after all this time, do you still believe in coincidences?"
A/N: Had this sitting in the Drive for ages. Guess it's time I finished the series (abandoned it mid-season 6). Also, I am alive, thanks for asking.