This is the place?" Miroku asked himself as he stepped out from his car and walked up to the building with the sign that read Fox Fire Books. It was a little hole in the wall bookstore, where he'd expected a larger, more imposing chain store. Never once had he been to such a shabby looking place for a book signing. His people usually only set them up in very popular, large stores.
Miroku Takeuchi wrote romance novels. Not just any romance novels, the kind that they don't allow in high school libraries. His ex-wife Shima used to call them 'bodice rippers', while his high school acquaintances liked to dub them 'heaving bosom chap books'. He had too big a following for the public to call them anything but 'art'.
He shrugged, pushed the door open and was momentarily taken aback. What had seemed to be a small and shabby shop was in fact quite large and impressive on the inside, even by his standards. He pursed his lips slightly.
"Foxfire indeed," he muttered, glancing around. The aura of a fox youkai clung to the walls of the entire building making it a lot larger on the inside than on the outside. The transparent blue wisps were invisible to most, but not to him. The blood of monks ran through his veins, making him extra sensitive to the presence of demons, and their powers. These auras, or youki, were like fingerprints. Seeing as he was descended from not just any monk, but the legendary monk Miatsu, he could also detect the auras of humans, or reiki, if he so chose. It was a little more difficult, but nowhere near impossible. Reiki weren't as vivid as youki.
He could also block this ability if he so chose, which was a blessing because it gave him headaches sometimes.
These auras had colour and the hue and brightness of the colour varied by the power and rank of the demon and its ancestors. The brighter and more vivid, the more power, the deeper the shade, the lower the rank of power. Judging by the ultramarine hue of this youki, the kitsune in question was likely adolescent. Probably about one hundred to six hundred fifty years old.
"Mr. Takeuchi, I presume?" The voice was soft and came from behind him. He turned to face the thin, four-tailed fox demon. This youkai was the source of the ultramarine youki. It swirled around the boy who looked about sixteen to eighteen years old, many times before sliding down his tails and spreading across the room. For his age, the demon was rather strong.
"That's me," Miroku smiled and reached his hand out. The kitsune shook it enthusiastically.
"Great! I'm Shippo, the owner of Fox Fire. We won't actually be opening for about ten minutes, so I could show you around if you'd like."
"Lead on" Miroku agreed. Shippo grinned.
"Great, so follow me!" The kitsune spent the next ten minuted weaving through the bookshelves, giving what Miroku assumed to be the grand tour. He has to admit it was impressive. There were three main rooms of Fox Fire Books. Each was large and handsomely furnished.
Room one was the room with three cash registers, candy shelves, new releases and last months best seller. It didn't surprise him that the book on the best seller rack was his most recent book 'Shirtless in Seattle'. It was the reason he was here.
When they moved to the second room, the first thing he noticed was the rows of couches along two of the walls. There were coffee machines, pop machines and snack vending machines. Smooth jazz music played softly from CD players on tables at each end of each row of couches. He could see they were rigged with fox traps, to deter thieves. It was more a lounge than part of a bookstore.
They continued onto the next room which was enormous, was jam packed with shelf upon shelf of books; new titles, old titles, used books, new books, every genre was represented. Some more than others, but not for lack of trying. Some even appeared to be hand-written. It was the biggest collection he'd seen in a long while.
"This last room," the russet haired youkai said, a hint of mystery in his voice. "Requires special permission to enter, but since you obviously have some control over reiki..."
"How did you know?" Miroku questioned. Shippo grinned.
"Anyone who can walk in here and not bat an eye at the size of the place, or these," he wiggled his tails playfully, "has to know what's what. Or at least have an inkling."
The door to the room in question was, to him, very obviously cloaked in fox magic. He assumed, that to the eyes of any other human it would appear to be just another section of bare wall. Shippo put a hand on the door, mumbling words that he couldn't hear, and turned the handle. The moment the door opened Miroku's mind was assaulted by an overwhelming mix of powers, both human and demon. It was so strong that his stomach did a flip, and his head started to ache. Then his eyes focused and his jaw dropped a bit.
This room had a lot fewer shelves and was about half the size of the last, but each book was cloaked in either strong yellow reiki or a assorted youki.
"What is this?" he wondered out loud, mystified.
"They're books handwritten by demons, half demons, and reiki using humans like yourself. More advanced than you are at this point, but still you have to begin somewhere."
"So, you're saying that these books are incantations and what-not?"
"Some of them are. Not all. They're teachings in general. How to control, develop and hone skills in youki or reiki mastery. Some are just history. They can only be read by those with spiritual powers, demonic powers, or a strong connection to either or. I've only let one human have access to this room in the last fifty years, and she has no control over reiki. She can feel youki and sense them to a degree, because she's had a lot of immersion in demon culture and company. I don't suspect she can or will ever master this skill, because it isn't in her blood."
Miroku paused and turned away from the captivating glow around the shelves Shippo's eyes were glued on him. He felt as if he were being sized up and squared his shoulders slightly.
"Why have you shown me?" he asked.
"It is in your blood. I have a source, who told me of your strong spiritual ancestry. If you choose to make use of this room, which I do offer to you, you may find some important information on your own background. Now come, the doors will be opening shortly, and your fans will be anxious."
Miroku turned his body so that he could no longer see the books, and suddenly had the weirdest feeling he was being watched. He looked back over his shoulder to see no-one there. He shook his head and followed the kitsune through the door.
They backtracked through the rest of the rooms to the first, where a table and chair awaited him, next to a stand holding copies of his book.
"If you need coffee or anything, just let me know," Shippo insisted and left him to go unlock the doors.
The amount of women who flooded in at the moment filled the room within minutes, and Miroku was in his element. He flirted, shook hands, allowed his picture to be taken, and signed copies of "Shirtless in Seattle" with peppy little messages. If he asked for something, it was there shortly. It was by far one of the best book signings he'd been to.
"Excuse me, could you sign a copy of this for my sister in law?" The only masculine voice he'd heard in hours asked. For some reason it sounded familiar. He looked up and the reason clicked into place.
He had been in his living room flicking through channels, when he'd stopped on a talk show. Normally he wouldn't have but the headline drew him in. He set the remote next to him and focused on the screen.
"We all know of Saiga" the host stated. "The author who's top-selling novels, such as 'A Humans Dream', 'Along the Way,' ans his newest 'Second Guess,' has become a household name over the last few years. His creative and ingenious writings leave nothing to be desired. Yet, he is a mystery who never talks to the public. Well, I haven\ news for you! We at the studio managed to convince Saiga to do his first interview!"
The sound of the applause was almost deafening even through the television. Then a tall teenager walked from backstage. He had his long chestnut hair pulled back into a ponytail. There was a spattering of freckles over his nose and cheekbones, and he wore a t-shirt and jeans. This couldn't be Saiga. He'd been writing books since before Miroku was born! Books that Miroku would read while the other kids played four-square, soccer and basketball. He was the author who had inspired Miroku to become an author himself. This kid couldn't even be his own age. Still, he watched as the boy walked up to the host and smiled, shaking her hand.
"Saiga asked me to apologize to you," he said, "because he can't make it today." The audience booed.
"This is unfortunate. My audience has been looking forward to this interview." The host frowned. The young man nodded.
"Saiga realizes this, but his wife is nearing her due date and he can't bare to leave her side. She's having twins." The audience ceased their booing instantly and more than a few 'awws' escaped their lips instead.
"Oh, how wonderful!" The host chirped. "I hope you give him our heartfelt congratulations!" The boy smiled.
"Actually, we have him on the line, if you want to tell him yourself."
` "You work with Saiga" Miroku said quietly before taking the book. The young man in front of him groaned.
"Don't let anyone hear you say that. I don't want to get mobbed." His voice was amused but serious. "I'm Kohaku."
"Sorry", Miroku apologized, opening the cover of the book. "Who do I make this out to?"
"Rin."
'To the beautiful Rin, may your heart bloom as the flowers of a cherry blossom tree. Sweet and beautiful.' When he was finished writing he closed the book and passed it back.
"Thanks. She'll really appreciated it."
"No problem. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
Miroku leaned in, so as not to be overheard.
"Why did Saiga send you for that interview?" His voice was quiet. "How did you manage to get a job with him? I heard it was almost impossible." The question earned him a strange look, but then Kohaku grinned.
"You're a fan."
"I am," Miroku admitted seriously, and nodded. Kohaku chuckled.
"I don't work for him," was his answer. "It was more of a family favour." Miroku raised his eyebrows.
"Family favour?" he questioned. Kohaku chuckled once more.
"See you later, Mr. Takeuchi." With that he left, with Miroku staring after him in surprise.
It also left him something to think about for the next little while.
