So, I'm going to be honest here, I'm kind of making this up as I go along and later there will probably be smut. I'm just playing the story by ear and seeing where it takes me.
Warning: There will be quite a bit of violence and torture mentioned in this chapter. I put a warning where it starts and ends if that isn't something you want to read.
.:Line Break:.
She was in pain. Gods above, she was in so much pain. How was it possible for her to experience so much pain without passing out?
Her feet no longer able to support her exhausted body, she collapsed to the ground. She hissed through her teeth as the steel jaws of the bear trap sank even deeper into her flesh. Nothing could be done about it, she lacked the energy and strength necessary to remove it. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten and she had been running as fast as she could for days on end without rest.
It was what she had had to do in order to get away from them. She couldn't let them capture her again. She would rather die than allow them to take her prisoner again, to allow them to take her back to that hell on Earth to be used as a slave, a punching bag, a plaything for when they were bored.
Immobilized, she resigned herself to just staying still and keeping quiet, hoping that maybe she could go unnoticed for awhile, at least until she could build her strength back up enough to remove the bear trap. Though her vision was slightly blurry due to blood loss, she decided to take a look around in an attempt to distract herself from her excruciating agony.
She was in a dense forest of some kind, though she had no idea specifically where she was. She hadn't paid much attention to where she was going when she had been running away and after a certain point the scenery had just begun to blend together in a big blur. It hadn't mattered to her where she went, as long as it had been away from them.
All at once her fatigue hit her like a tidal wave and a spell of lightheadedness washed over her. Soon, even holding up her head had become a chore and her extremities slowly began to grow cold, despite the fact that it was only early fall. Black spots appeared in her vision and with a start she had come to realize that she had greatly underestimated just how much blood she had lost in her attempt to flee her captors. Up until that point she had been running on pure adrenaline, but now that she had been forced to stop it was beginning to wear off.
Her eyes welled up with tears as her mind became hazy. She was scared. She didn't want to die. She wasn't ready to die.
That's when she heard it. Rustling, coming from a nearby patch of bushes. Her head snapped towards it, teary eyes wide and fearful. Her heart pounded in her ears as her body went rigid.
Oh gods above, had they caught up to her already? Had they been tailing her the entire time just waiting for her to tire herself out, patiently biding their time until she slipped up? Had all of the suffering she had been forced to endure been for naught? She may not have wanted to die, but she would rather do so than go back with them. She didn't want to do what they told her to anymore, she didn't want to go back to being locked up in that cold, dark, maddeningly silent basement. She couldn't do it. She just couldn't.
Fortunately for her, the person who stepped from out of the bushes was not one of her captors, but rather an older man with grey hair and a pair of cracked glasses. He was garbed in a red turtleneck sweater, a tattered tan trench coat, black pants, and a pair of black rain boots coated in old dried up mud. In his hand, which she noted with fleeting curiosity had six fingers, he carried a notebook and pen. Though as soon as he laid eyes on her, those items slipped from his grasp, accompanied by a sharp, shocked inhale.
She couldn't honestly say that she was surprised by his reaction. She knew that she must have been quite a sight, especially in her current state. She wasn't able to run anymore, she wouldn't be able to escape from him. Eying him warily, all she could do was wait with bated breath to see how he would react once he had fully processed what exactly he was looking at.
The man's gaze swept over her with not fear, animosity, or disgust, but with extreme fascination as he tried to wrap his mind around the idea of the fantastical creature in front of him.
Before him laid a fox with white fur. But it was no ordinary fox, no. This fox was about the size of a deer, possessed not one, but two tails, and had a blue crescent moon on its forehead. It's narrow eyes were some shade of magenta and its pupils were vertical slits, reminding him of a cat's. Iron shackles with glowing runes carved into the metal were bound to its ankles. A peculiar necklace strung with what appeared to be pearls hung around its neck. One pearl, this one larger than the others, had a faint glowing blue star on it and appeared to be the centerpiece of the necklace.
A grin, one holding the glee and excitement of a young child, stretched across the man's face. He had so many questions buzzing around his brain. There were so many notes he wanted to write down at that moment and his fingers itched to draw this magnificent creature in his new journal.
She had no idea how to interpret the smile on his face as it had not been the reaction she had been anticipating. When he took a step towards her though, her mind had gone into full panic mode. She struggled to stand, only to collapse again when she was painfully reminded of the bear trap embedded in her leg.
The man stopped abruptly, frowning, and looked over the fox a second time. His eyes widened, finally noticing the terrible condition she was in. Crimson blood stained her white fur in several places, most of it fresh. Her body was covered in several large gashes, one of them was actually deep enough that he was able to catch a glimpse of the muscles beneath her skin. In some places her fur was matted together with dirt, dried blood, or a combination of the two. She was also horribly malnourished, a perfect outline of her ribs visible through her fur. There was a trail of blood leading from deeper into the forest right up to where the fox lay helpless on the ground, slowly collecting into a pool beneath her form.
Much to her surprise, the man's eyes immediately filled with concern and compassion. He moved towards her again, this time gradually inching forward, holding his hands out in front of him in an attempt to pacify her.
"Easy, now." he spoke softly, "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."
Had she not been so panicked, she would have snorted in disbelief. Her captors had made the same promise to her many times, but it was always a lie. Always. But there wasn't anything she could do. Her vision was becoming more spotty with each passing minute and simply standing up was now beyond her capability. She pressed her body further against the ground as the man drew closer. He reached a hand out for her and she clenched her eyes tightly shut, preparing to be struck.
Except... she wasn't. Instead the man had placed his hand gently atop her head, smoothing down her disheveled fur. Her eyes flew open, baffled by the gesture.
The man merely gave her a soft smile as he knelt down in front of her. "There, now. I told you I wasn't going to hurt you."
His voice sounded slightly muffled to her and her vision was beginning to dim. She knew that it wouldn't be long before she finally passed out and once she did, if left in her current state, the chances of her ever waking back up were extremely unlikely. She didn't want to die and by this point she was desperate to prevent it.
She stared deeply into the man's eyes, seeing not only curiosity, but kindness as well. Kindness... how long had it been since such a thing was directed at her? It had felt like years, but she honestly had no way of knowing for sure. Searching his face, she finally came to the astounding conclusion that he truly meant her no harm.
"What on Earth happened to you?" he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Keeping her eyes open was suddenly proving to be difficult. She only had a few minutes left, if that, until she lost consciousness. She was loathe to do it, but if she had any hope of surviving she'd have to take a great risk right now.
"Help me..." Her soft voice was hoarse from lack of use. Her captors had had a strict rule: don't speak unless spoken to. Breaking their rule had led to severe punishment.
Shocked that she had actually spoken, the man quickly retracted his hand as though he had been burned. "You... you can talk?"
"Please... help me..." she begged, her voice breaking as her tears finally fell, "I... I don't want to die..." Her sight blurred even more, to the point where she could no longer make out his facial features. Any second now, she'd be out.
"W-what are you? What happened to you?"
In her final moments of consciousness, she finally offered him the most valuable thing she could. Herself. "Please... if you... if you save me, I promise to serve you and your family in any way I can for the rest of my life. Please... please help me... I... I don't want to go back there..."
"W-wait! What do you mean? Go back where?" she had heard him call out, but it was too late for her to provide any answers. At last she blacked out, knowing her fate was completely out of her hands and now rested in the six-fingered hands of this mysterious stranger.
.:Line Break:.
In all honesty, she had been surprised when she finally awoke, having expected to never wake up again. She didn't know how long she had been out, but she was still exhausted. She ached all over, her limbs felt like they were made of lead, and merely trying to open her eyes was proving to be a challenge.
With some effort, she finally managed to open her eyes, blinking rapidly for a few seconds as they adjusted to the light. Taking in her surroundings, she realized that she was no longer in the forest. Instead she was laying on a couch in what appeared to be some kind of private study/bedroom, if the messy bed wedged in the corner and the numerous books strewn about were any indication.
Looking over herself she saw that her injuries had been wrapped with gauze, the gaping gash in her side had been stitched closed, and someone had gone to great lengths to wash the dirt and blood from her fur. The bear trap had been removed, that ankle wrapped as well, but the iron shackles remained. She frowned at them, but wasn't surprised to see them still attached. She already knew that they couldn't be removed by normal means.
Sighing, she gazed out the window behind her at the setting sun. It was better than being dead, she supposed. Though now she was apprehensive of the days ahead of her. Clearly the man from the forest had saved her, which meant that she had to fulfill her end of the bargain. Resting her head atop her paws, she only hoped that she hadn't escaped one prison just to run straight into another.
Speaking of the strange man, he was nowhere in sight. She briefly wondered where he was. As if on cue, her ears picked up faint voices coming from outside the room. There were two of them, their tones heated as if they were arguing, and they grew in volume as they approached the room she was in.
"I can't believe you brought that thing into our house, Stanford!" one male voice, unfamiliar, rough, and angry, yelled.
She couldn't help but flinch at the statement. No doubt she was the "thing" in question that the man was so angry about.
"She's a "she", Stanley. Not a "thing"." the other corrected, his calm tone strained.
This voice she recognized. It belonged to the man from the forest. So his name was Stanford... Her ears perked up, trying to listen to more of the conversation he was having with this "Stanley".
"Fine! Call her whatever you want, but the fact is you don't know nothing about her!"
"It's "anything", Stanley."
"Don't push me, poindexter! She clearly isn't normal. She could be dangerous!"
"I had to help her. You didn't hear how desperate she was when she was talking to me in the woods. You didn't see her."
She heard Stanley scoff, "Oh, I saw enough of her and her blood when you carried her into our house!"
She heard their footsteps go right up to the other side of the door, one of them placing their hand on the doorknob.
"I cleaned up all the blood, didn't I?" Stanford asked as he opened the door.
She watched in silence as he walked into the room, trench coat gone and an open notebook in his hand. He was followed in by another man who appeared to be the same age and bore a striking resemblance to him. This man also wore glasses and was garbed in a black suit with a white button up shirt underneath and... She cocked her head to the side. Was that a fez atop his head? Did people still wear those anymore?
She watched as Stanley dragged a hand down his face in exasperation. "That's not the point! We don't even know what she is!"
"That's not true. I've been doing some research on her since I finished tending to her wounds." As if to make a point, Stanford pointed to a paragraph from his notebook, "According to my findings, she is something called a "Kitsune", a kind of fox demon from Japanese folklore—"
"A demon?!" Stanley screeched incredulously, throwing his arms in the air. She had actually flinched at how loud his voice was, her ears flattening against her skull. Neither of them seemed to notice. "You helped another demon, Stanford?! Didn't you learn anything from last time?!"
That had certainly caught her attention. Another demon, meaning she hadn't been the first? She had to wonder how many demons the average human knowingly came into contact with. Though it did explain why he hadn't been too perturbed by her.
Stanford sighed and made calming hand gestures. "Yes, yes. I know how it sounds Stan, but just listen to me for a moment. Before she lost consciousness she promised that if I were to help her, she would serve me and my family. According to all of my research, Kitsune are bound by the promises they make."
"Oh, yeah? Or what?" Stanley scoffed mockingly, "What's to stop her from tearing our throats out in our sleep, huh? What happens if she decides that she doesn't want to keep her promise?"
She decided that now was as good a time as any to let them know she was awake. "I'll die."
The two jumped and turned to look at her, confirming her suspicion that they hadn't known she was awake when they walked into the room.
"If a Kitsune breaks their promise, we'll die." she continued softly, staring down at the floor, "That's why we don't make promises often."
Stanley did nothing to hide his skepticism. He crossed his arms over his chest, scanning over her with a critical eye for any signs of deceit. "Then why make such a hefty promise to my brother?"
"Because it was better than just bleeding to death in the woods." she told him, her voice trembling with raw emotion as she forced herself to meet his eyes, "I didn't want to die..."
He still seemed unconvinced, but said nothing else.
Stanford snapped his notebook shut and set it on his desk. Offering a friendly smile, he walked over to the couch and knelt down in front of her. "Greetings." he said in a kind tone, "How are you feeling?"
She looked away and spoke quietly, "... Tired, achy, cold... but I'm alive, so I can't complain too much."
"Well, that's normal considering how much blood you lost. I'm no doctor, or... er, vet, as the case may be, but I cleaned you up and tended to your wounds the best I could. If you start to experience any unusual side effects, please let me know right away."
She nodded, "... Thank you."
He smiled, looking quite pleased with himself. "You're very welcome. Anyway, I do believe introductions are in order. This," he gestured to the surly man behind him, "is my brother, Stanley Pines. I'm Stanford Pines, but you can just call me Ford." And with that, he held out his hand for her to shake.
She stared at it in bemusement. Considering the fact that she was at his absolute mercy, he was being awfully cordial towards her.
It took Ford an embarrassingly long ten seconds to realize that while the creature in front of him possessed the power of human speech, she lacked the human hands necessary for a hand shake. Feeling slightly foolish, his face turned a light shade of pink as he began to slowly withdraw his hand.
She quickly placed one of her paws in his open palm, not wanting to be rude after everything he had done for her. She clumsily shook his hand the best she could without fingers and said, "Midori. My name is Midori. At least... I think it is..."
"What do you mean, you think? Don't you know what your own name is?"
Ford shot his brother a pointed look, "Stanley."
"... I... I don't, actually. My memories were erased. All of the personal ones, anyway."
"By who?" Ford asked, "And what did you mean earlier when you said that you didn't want to go back? Where did all of these injuries come from?"
Midori lowered her head to her paws, dread settling in the pit of her stomach like a lead weight. She didn't want to think about it, but he had asked and he had a right to know.
"Before... before you found me in the woods, I had been held captive by a group of modern day demon hunters. My earliest memory is of me waking up in their cold, dark basement bound with these magic shackles designed to suppress my powers. I can't remember anything about my life before then. They erased our personal memories to dissuade any ideas of escaping. After all, why try to leave when you have no clue where to return to?"
"Our?" Ford parroted, "So there were others?"
Midori shook her head sadly. "... No. There had been one other, but... they killed her. Her name... was Suki. She had been a five tailed Kitsune with orange and white fur and green eyes. She... she had taken care of me since the first day they locked me up. She protected me, made sure I was warm at night, and when they gave us food, she gave most of her rations to me, even though it meant less for herself. She had been my only friend..."
Ford grabbed his notebook and a pen before sitting back down on the floor beside the couch. He wrote something on the pages, then returned his gaze to her. "What exactly happened to Suki?"
.:Warning Start:.
Midori wished he hadn't asked. She hated looking back on that day. She had never gotten over it and still woke up screaming from nightmares about it. The pungent stench of blood and vomit was still so fresh in her mind, accompanied by the haunting echoes of Suki begging Midori to forgive her for failing to save them. Even now she was filled with the same sense of helplessness as she had felt back then while the hunters held her down and forced her to watch her friend's every choked sob leading up to her death.
She had been silent for a long time, too long for Stan's liking. It seemed to him that she was just outright ignoring Stanford, and while his brother may have had the patience to sit there and take that kind of attitude, Stanley Pines did not.
"Hey!" he barked, causing Midori to look up at him as he stalked towards the couch, "What's with you? In case you forgot, my brother hauled your sorry butt back here and patched you up. If it wasn't for him, you'd be dead in the woods!"
Midori's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as Stan drew closer, her expression twisted in fear. Images of the hunters, livid and screaming, flashed before her. She pressed herself against the back of the couch, tails tucked between her legs as she tried to make herself as small as possible.
Oblivious to her reaction, Stan continued to yell, now standing at the edge of the couch. "I don't care if you are a demon, get off your high horse and answer when someone's talking to you!"
In her mind's eye Midori saw a hand raise, poised to strike, though neither Stan or Ford did any such thing. Quivering, she clenched her eyes shut and cried out, "I'm sorry, Master! Please, don't hurt me! I'll be good!"
Thrown for a loop, Stan stumbled back. Gaping, he glanced over at Ford, just to make sure they were witnessing the same thing, and recoiled. Stanford was giving him a stern look, the same stern look their father would give him after he had done something stupid.
"Stanley, calm down and please let me handle this." Ford then held up his notebook, allowing Stan to see what he had been doing. On the open page he had written a brief summary of what Midori had told them so far. Stanford pointed to a small note under that paragraph.
"It is possible that Midori may be suffering from PTSD or some other such disorder due to whatever trauma the hunters put her through."
Stan nodded dumbly, suddenly not sure how to feel about the situation anymore. Taking a seat in the chair behind the desk, he allowed his brother to take the reins.
Satisfied that Stan would no longer interfere, Ford turned back to Midori. To say that she was terrified was a gross understatement, though he now knew that demons could also suffer from panic attacks like humans did.
Cautiously, so as to avoid startling her further, Ford reached out and gently placed his hand on her head, just like he had done back in the forest. Midori's eyes snapped open, wide and full of tears, as he gingerly scratched behind her ears.
"Easy, now." he whispered soothingly, "You're in a safe place. My brother and I aren't going to hurt you. I promise."
Midori gazed into his eyes for several minutes, trying to gauge the sincerity of his words. Eventually she nodded, and her body gradually relaxed. When Stanford sensed that she was calm, he removed his hand and took up his pen again.
"I'm sorry..." she told him, her voice barely above a whisper.
"There's nothing for you to apologize for." Ford assured her, "You've done nothing wrong."
She nodded slowly, staring at the floor.
"Now, I realize that this may be difficult for you, but I'm going to need you to answer my questions. Can you do that for me?"
"... Okay." Midori took a moment to blink away her tears. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to speak, "... Suki... She had this plan to poison the hunters' food so we could escape, but they caught her in the act. As punishment, they force fed her the entire meal she had poisoned... and they forced me to watch. She... she was crying and... she had thrown up a couple of times from eating so much, but... they didn't care. They didn't stop until s-she was d-dead... I couldn't tell i-if it was because of the poison or if she had c-choked on her own vomit..."
Midori fought to keep her voice from catching in her throat, to keep it from cracking. She fought to keep her tears at bay, but it was futile. She tried to focus on the sound of Ford's pen moving across the paper as a means of keeping herself grounded while she continued.
"As if that wasn't awful enough, after she died, they had her stuffed and mounted like some kind of sick trophy. For the first three months after it happened they left her down in the basement with me to teach me a lesson." Even now she could still see those lifeless green glass eyes boring into her, Suki's face permanently frozen in terror. She attempted to push the thought from her mind.
Ford frowned as he recorded the information, deeply disturbed. "I see... Do you know how long you were their prisoner?"
She sniffled, thinking for a moment. "The basement where they kept me locked up didn't have any windows, so it's hard to judge how much time passed. If I had to guess... maybe two or three years."
"Do you remember what the hunters looked like? How many of them were there?"
"They always wore these hooded robes, I never saw their faces. I'm pretty sure there were at least twelve of them, though."
Ford nodded, eyes trained on his notebook. "And just what did these hunters want with you?"
"They made me steal for them. Money, jewels, rare artifacts, paintings, anything of significant value. It didn't matter to them who they made me steal from either. They had me hit museums, banks, and the homes of wealthy individuals."
"But earlier you said that they kept you in those shackles to prevent you from using your powers. Are you saying that you managed to get passed highly sophisticated security systems on your own?"
"Gods, no." She shook her head, "Whenever they sent me out, they'd cover my eyes and ears so they could use the spell to remove the shackles. But before they did that, they'd take this." Midori paused, gesturing to her necklace. "My hoshi no tama."
Fascinated, Ford leaned in closer to get a better look at the peculiar glowing necklace that had captured his attention back in the forest. "Interesting..." he muttered, glancing back and forth between her and his notebook, "I'm not too familiar with Japanese... What is a "hoshi no tama"? What does that mean in English?"
In the background, Stan rolled his eyes and propped his feet up on the desk. Folding his arms over his chest, he coughed out the word, "Nerd!"
Ford shot his brother a withering look, letting him know that his commentary was both unwanted and unappreciated. Stan shrugged nonchalantly, acting as though he hadn't done anything wrong.
Midori almost laughed, her lips twitching upwards into a smile. It was clear that Ford wasn't actually angered by his brother's antics, just mildly annoyed.
"Hoshi no tama roughly translates to "star ball". It's essentially a piece of my soul." Midori explained, "It doesn't prevent me from using my powers, but I'll die if I'm separated from it for too long."
"So they took it to ensure that you had no other choice but to come back." Ford murmured, continuing to write, "Where were they keeping you?"
"I... don't remember exactly. They'd erase the location from my mind as soon as I returned from one of their jobs..." Midori paused, thinking long and hard about the things she saw as she was running away. "Maybe... somewhere in San Diego...?"
Ford choked, pen slipping from his fingers. Stan's feet dropped from the desk to the floor as he openly gawked at her in disbelief. Puzzled, Midori glanced between them in a search for answers.
"... W-what? What's wrong?"
Ford readjusted his glasses, "San Diego? As in San Diego, California? You ran that far?"
"Yeah... At least, I think so. Why? Where... where am I now?"
"You're... in the town of Gravity Falls. In Oregon."
"Oregon?!" It was her turn to be surprised. "I... I didn't know that I had managed to run that far..."
"And while injured as well." Ford noted, impressed. "How did you get away from them?"
"They... got sloppy." she said with a sigh, "There was this... pirate treasure on display at some museum... I think it was in San Francisco. There was lots of gold and jewels. When I came back with it, I found out that they had started celebrating early. They were all drunk. They put the shackles and my hoshi no tama back on and tossed me in the basement, but... they left the door open. All I had to do was wait until they passed out. Then I broke one of the windows and made my escape. I ran as fast as I could. I never stopped to rest, I was too scared that they'd find me and try to take me back. Eventually I got careless and stepped in a bear trap... That's when you found me."
His pen paused and he raised a brow at her. "... Your injuries came from a broken window? They were far to severe for that."
She shook her head, "No, not from the window. The hunters did it when I came back."
"But... you said you got the treasure for them like they wanted. Why...?"
If Midori could have shrugged she would have. "Apparently I didn't return fast enough for their tastes. It wasn't unusual for them. Sometimes they'd do things like that when they were bored. After they were done, they'd leave me in the basement and someone would come down the morning after just to make sure I didn't bleed to death."
Several minutes passed where Ford just sat there, the grip on his pen lax, struggling to find the appropriate words. "That's... appalling... How... how could they do that?"
"It's simple, really. They didn't care. In their eyes I was just an animal, a tool. As long as they could continue to use me to make money, that's all they cared about."
.:Warning Over:.
Ford knew he shouldn't have been surprised. He wasn't an idiot, after all. He knew that the world was filled with cold-hearted people and he had seen plenty of terrible things when he had been stuck between dimensions. But he simply couldn't wrap his mind around the cruelty she had endured. The thought of treating anyone that way, human or otherwise, made his stomach churn.
"Can we..." Midori's soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, "... Can we stop talking about this? At least for now? I... I don't want to keep thinking about that place..."
"Alright. No more about the hunters for now." he agreed, massaging the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure how much more of their inhumanity he could stand to hear tonight. "I did have a question about that promise you made me, if you don't mind."
She shook her head.
"Before you passed out, you promised to serve me and my family if I saved you. What exactly does "serving" me entail?"
Midori stared at him, as though he had just grown a second head. "... You're... you're joking... right?" she found herself asking. Surely he already knew. Why else would he have bothered to save her?
But he shook his head, his expression indicating that he was truly ignorant to the deal he agreed to.
"Well... for one thing it means that I have to protect you from danger. It also means that if you, either of you, were to give me an order... I'd have to obey... whether I wanted to or not."
Ford gaped, pen falling from his hand as he realized the full implications of her words. "You... you offered yourself up as a slave?!"
"Wait, what?!" Stanley exclaimed from the background.
"I... I thought you knew." Midori said, looking between them, bewildered, "I-I thought that was why you saved me."
"Heavens, no! I saved you because it was the right thing to do!" Ford insisted. He took a moment to rub his temples, imagining what could have happened to her if she had made such a foolish promise to anyone else. "Why would you even risk making such a boneheaded deal? Did the hunters make you promise this to them?"
"No. They tried, but I never said it to them. I knew I couldn't if I ever had any hope of escaping them." She dropped her gaze to the floor, "And I already told you why I did it. I didn't want to die and I didn't want to go back to the hunters. I didn't have any other options..."
"Even still... didn't you escape to be free? By making that promise you've just trapped yourself again."
"You're not planning on locking me up in a basement, are you?"
For shook his head.
"Then as far as I'm concerned, I am free. Free of them, at least. Besides," Midori gave a humorless laugh, "it's not like I have anywhere else to go, remember? I have no memories, no money, and, as long as these damn shackles are on, no powers to defend myself with. The hunters will no doubt search for me once they realize I'm gone. If I were to go back out there in my condition I'd either die or be recaptured in a week's time. There... was nothing else I could have done..."
Ford just stared as she laid her head on top of her paws, looking as if she were awaiting a death sentence. She really didn't have any other options. He knew that he couldn't just kick her out, he couldn't condemn her to such a fate. He glanced back at Stanley, hoping to be able to persuade him to allow Midori to stay. Though she was a demon, Ford was convinced that she wasn't like Bill Cipher. There was no way she would have made such a deal with him if she was, a deal where they held all the cards, where she was completely at their mercy.
He gave his brother a pleading look. "Stanley...?"
Stan had his arms crossed over his chest, trying to seem indifferent to the whole situation, but Ford could see through the facade. He always could. Deep down, he could tell that Stanley was just as disturbed as he had been by the information Midori shared with them. His initial cautiousness was still there, thanks to Bill's previous actions, and Ford knew that it would be awhile before that went away, but it seemed like Stan sympathized with her, if only just a little bit.
Finally Stan threw his arms in the air, rolling his eyes so hard Ford was almost surprised he did pull something. "Right, as if you're really going to listen to me. Do whatever you want, poindexter. As you love pointing out, it's your house."
Ford grinned as he turned back to Midori. "Well then, how do you feel about being my research assistant?"
She cocked her head, "Research assistant?"
"Yes. You see, I study the paranormal." Ford held up his journal for her to see. He flipped through the pages, showing her various notes and sketches until he reached the pages about her. "I still have plenty of questions about you. In all my travels I've never come across a Kitsune before. But I could also use some help studying other supernatural phenomenon. Is that something that you think you could help me with?"
She blinked, surprised not only by his request, but also by the fact that he had asked her instead of ordering her. "... Y-yes. I can do that."
"Excellent! Who knows, we may even discover a way to bring your memories back along the way."
"What a strange man..." she thought to herself. He didn't know anything about her, hell, she didn't even know anything about her, and yet he genuinely seemed to want to help her. It felt surreal to her. Part of her wondered if maybe she was dreaming and when she woke up she'd be back in the hunter's basement. Another part of her wondered if maybe he was just trying to lure her into a false sense of security only to reveal his true colors later. Midori desperately hoped neither of these scenarios were true.
Her stomach chose that moment to growl, reminding her that it had been a long time since she had last eaten. Struck by hunger pain, she curled in on herself, face twisting in discomfort as she let out a tiny whimper.
Ford shut his notebook, tucking the pen between the pages, and stood. "First things first, let's get you something to eat. I've been meaning to ask, when was your last meal?"
"I... don't remember. The hunters only fed us once every seven days and they'd give us water once every three days."
Ford scowled. That explained why Midori was so gaunt. "Rest assured, that's not something you have to worry about with us. Why don't you follow me downstairs to the kitchen and see what we have?"
Midori nodded, hopping down from the couch as carefully as she could. Her muscles screamed in protest, causing her to hiss through her teeth. Every movement, no matter how small, caused a burning sensation to course through her and she found herself constantly shivering, cold from all the blood she had lost.
Of course, none of this escaped Ford's notice. His face was immediately awash with concern. "Are you alright? Do you need me to carry you?"
If she could have blushed, she would have. Not trusting her words, she quickly shook her head. She may not have been in the best condition ever, but she still had her pride and she'd be damned before she'd allow herself to be carried around like some helpless kit.
Ford wanted to argue, but he could tell it wouldn't get him anywhere. He easily recognized the stubborn fire burning in her eyes. Instead he sighed and said, "Alright then, follow me."
He led her downstairs and into the kitchen with Stan trailing close behind Midori, watching her like a hawk.
Ford dug through the cupboards and pulled out two bowls. "Is there anything you can't eat?" he asked as he rummaged through the refrigerator.
"No, I can eat anything you can."
"Good. That makes things easier." He gave her a sheepish smile as he pulled out a carton of orange juice and something wrapped in tin foil. "I hope you don't mind leftovers..."
Midori watched intently as he unwrapped the tin foil, exposing a couple of fried chicken breasts. "Master, at this point I'd eat whatever you put in front of me." She meant it, too. With how hungry she was, he could have given her a bowl of garbage and she probably still would have eaten it. Her mouth had begun to water as soon as she smelled the food, tails wagging behind her like an excited puppy.
Ford grimaced as he tore up the chicken breasts, putting the meat into one of the bowls to make it easier for Midori to eat. "Please just call me Ford. There's no reason for you to call either of us "master". Right, Stan?"
Stan, who was leaning against the kitchen doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, merely grunted at Stanford's inquiry.
Ford rolled his eyes at his brother, then glanced at Midori with the bowl of chicken in his hand. "Do you want me to heat this up for you?"
She shook her head, stating, "To be honest, I don't think I can wait that long."
Once the bowl was on the floor in front of her, Midori wasted no time digging in. It wasn't until she had swallowed her first bite that she realized just how starving she had been.
"Careful! Don't eat so fast that you make yourself sick." Stanford warned her, setting down the other bowl which was now filled to the brim with orange juice. Midori only paused to glance up at Ford in question, her mouth full. "You lost a lot of blood. I'd like you to drink all of it, if you can."
He certainly didn't need to tell her twice. She was just grateful to have anything to eat and drink at all.
Stanford silently observed the Kitsune as she made short work of her meal. He already had so many questions and ideas for his research, but he knew that he had to get his priorities in order first. Since Middle was going to stay, they needed to find a way for her to blend in. They couldn't very well keep a large two tailed fox hidden for long and, based on what she had told them, he had no doubt that the hunters would soon come looking for their proverbial cash cow.
"Kitsune are shapeshifters, right?" He had remembered reading that during his preliminary research, but wanted to make sure it wasn't just hearsay.
"Yes, that's right." she muttered between bites. Ford could tell that she was only half paying attention to him. Not that he blamed her, not after what she had been through.
"So, does that mean you're capable of assuming human form?"
"Of course! Most Kitsune prefer human to fox form. Tends to make getting around in a world full of humans easier."
"I see..." He scratched his chin in thought, glancing down at the shackles around her ankles. "But I suppose those shackles prevent you from doing so?"
"Yeah, unfortunately." Midori had finished off the bowl of chicken and moved on to downing the orange juice.
"Then I guess the first thing we should do is work on removing those shackles."
Stan scoffed as he pushed himself off the doorframe. He didn't think that giving the demon back her powers so soon was a good idea, but he knew there was nothing he could say to deter Ford. Once he had his mind made up, nothing could sway him. Grumbling under his breath, he decided to go to the living room to watch television.
Midori froze when Ford's words finally registered in her mind. Hesitantly, she gazed up at him, daring to hope he meant what he said. He smiled warmly at her, the same way one would smile at a good friend they hadn't seen in a long time. "D-do... do you really mean that?" she whispered.
Ford crouched down on one knee to meet her eyes. "Well, no offense, but there's not much you can do in your current state, is there?"
Ashamed, she dropped her gaze to the floor and shook her head. It was a low blow to her pride to admit, but lying about it served no purpose.
"My research can be quite dangerous and it certainly wouldn't hurt having a guardian of sorts as my assistant. I would need you to be in top shape in case anything were to happen. Plus, my brother runs a... tourist attraction during the day and hiding you as you are now would be quite difficult. Unless, of course, you were to pose as another of Stan's gaudy attractions." Ford had said the last part as a joke, but it failed to elicit a reaction from Midori.
"They can only be removed with magic." she said quietly, staring at the tiles beneath her feet, "Power tools won't work. I've tried. I don't know the incantation either. Figuring it out won't be easy."
Ford chuckled, the thought of a challenge only serving to spur him on. "My dear, not only do I have 12 , but I've been studying the paranormal for more than 30 years! I can almost guarantee you that it won't be long before I find a way to rid you of those shackles."
Midori had to admit, with that self-sure look on his face, she was inclined to believe him.
.:Line Break:.
After Midori had finished her meal and Ford had put the bowls in the sink, he had ushered her into the living room, urging her to relax while he collected some of his research materials. Stan, who was now dressed in a white wife beater and a pair of striped boxers, kept an eye on the fox as she stretched out on the floor beside the armchair he was sitting in, shivering slightly. Every once in a while she'd cautiously glance back at him, as if expecting him to start yelling at her again.
Well, he supposed that he hadn't exactly made the best first impression...
It had only taken a few minutes for Ford to return, arms laden with a stack of books piled higher than his head. Setting them down on the small wooden table in the corner of the room, he shot her an enthusiastic grin as he readjusted his glasses. Taking his notebook and pen in hand, he knelt down beside Midori, studying her shackles intently.
"I just need to copy these symbols so I can get to work."
Midori had to hand it to him, Ford worked fast. He had finished in a matter of seconds and retreated back to the table to begin his research.
Several hours had passed as Ford pored over his numerous books, an expression of intense concentration on his face. During that time, Stan and Midori had watched tv in silence, a marathon about some kind of duck detective playing. Another shiver ran through her as she idly wondered how all of the characters on the show could seemingly understand the duck when subtitles were needed for the audience to understand him.
Eventually Stan yawned loudly and stretched, drowsiness creeping up on him. A quick glance at the absorbed look on his brother's face told him that Ford had no intention of stopping any time soon. Not without interference anyway. Stan wasn't going to let him stay up all night, again, because of his research.
"Hey, sixer."
"Hmm?"
"It's getting late. You should turn in."
"In just a few more minutes, Stanley."
Stan rolled his eyes and scoffed. For Stanford, "a few minutes" roughly translated to "a few hours" or longer. Still, he decided to humor him just to see if this time was any different.
It wasn't.
Yet another hour passed by and Ford had still not made any move to stop and retire for the night. Sighing, Stan reached for the newspaper that had been resting on the T-rex skull beside his chair. He rolled it up and stalked towards his brother, Ford completely oblivious to Stan's actions. Without any warning whatsoever, Stan smacked him over the head.
"Go to bed, ya nerd!"
"Ow! Stanley!"
Midori couldn't help but smile at their interaction. Despite Stan's gruff demeanor it was apparent to her that he deeply cared for his brother, even if he had questionable ways of showing it. Like hitting Ford with the newspaper and calling him names.
"I mean it, Ford." Stan continued in a scolding tone, "I'm not going to let you stay up all night again with your nose in your dumb books. You either drag your own butt to bed, or I'll do it for you."
When it looked as though Ford was going to argue, Midori decided to interject. "I-if I may?"
The twins paused to listen to what she had to say.
"With all due respect, ma... Ford, you really should get some rest. These shackles aren't going anywhere and neither am I. You've already done so much for me tonight and I greatly appreciate it, but further research can wait until morning."
Midori lowered her head after she spoke, seemingly expecting to be reprimanded. Stan just gave him that smug smirk of his that practically screamed, "you know I'm right". With two against one, Stanford sighed in defeat.
"Very well. I suppose it can wait until tomorrow. Midori, will you be okay sleeping down here for now?"
She nodded. Their living room was a huge improvement over the basement she had been forced to sleep in.
"Alright. If you need anything, my room is upstairs, the one you woke up in."
"Yeah, yeah. Quit stalling and go to bed already."
Stanley pushed Ford towards the stairs, turning off the lights and the television before following after him. Once the brothers had left the room, Midori curled herself up into a ball, attempting to suppress another shiver as she closed her eyes.
Suddenly, something warm and heavy fell on top of her. Jolting up, she discovered a blanket covering her body and Stan standing over her with a cryptic expression.
"Try not to get your fur all over it." he quietly groused.
Stunned, she couldn't seem to find her voice until Stan began to walk away. "T-thank you!" she hastily called out.
He glanced at her from over his shoulder. "... Don't mention it."
It may have been her mind playing tricks on her, but before Stan left Midori could have sworn she saw a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.