What am I doing?
If there's one thing I know for sure, it's that this is none of my business. This job is better suited for my mistress, or the teacher from the Human Village. In this situation, I'm just an uninvolved party. I should be worrying about patrolling the Boundary or fixing the dress my daughter ruined while she was out playing. I should not be here.
Sitting in front of me is a little girl. She is no more than five years old, with a red ribbon in her silky black hair and prayer beads around one of her wrists. Her shrine maiden's garb looks fresh and new, as if she is wearing it for the first time. With innocent, dark red eyes she looks up at me, as if unsure of what to make of me.
The longer I look at her, the more of her mother I see in her. It's not noticeable at first glance, but they really do look alike. There are stories in the Outside World of children who were born with teeth. This girl isn't from the Outside World.
A feeling in my gut tells me she shouldn't be here, either, but she has to be. There's no other choice. It's more convenient for her to be here than where she was before. Still, the life she left behind is fresh in her mind. I wonder what my daughter would do, if she were in such a situation…?
"Raaan."
I'm jolted out of my thoughts as the child calls out to me. I kneel down in front of her, and put on my warmest smile.
"Yes?"
She suddenly becomes shy and looks away. After a moment, she looks back.
"When do I go home?"
Why must children be so candid? That's not a question I want to answer.
"This is your home," I say simply. She blinks.
"But…but…mama isn't here," she frets. I don't think I can break this to her. I stand back up and turn away from her. She is young, but this is something she can figure out on her own. How quickly a child can pick things up is underestimated.
There's a long silence, and then I hear her start to sniffle. Her breathing becomes more audible, and is peppered with hiccups. It turns to gasping sobs, and finally she starts to wail. Her cries resonate throughout the shrine and do not show any sign of stopping.
It's painful to listen to, it's best to let her cry it out. I am not the one who is going to be holding her in a few hours, anyway.
The clouds roll on, and her wails quiet into sobs, then hiccups, and finally the only sound is her sniffling.
My mistress will be here in exactly twenty minutes. I can't let her see this girl's tear-stained face. Perhaps I should have done something to comfort her, after all. I turn back around and kneel before her once again. Her face is red, and she is scrubbing the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. I wonder what I should do to cheer her up?
…That's right!
"Look!"
The little girl looks up. I take one of my nine tails in my hand and bring it in front of me. "I have a daughter who's older than you, but even she can't resist my tails. They're so fluffy and soft, want to try petting one?"
No one can resist my tails. My daughter has ended many days by falling asleep on them, rather than go to her own bed. I've lived with these tails for nine hundred years and counting, so the softness is a mundane, ordinary thing for me. But children in particular love my tails, just as they are attracted to anything that is soft.
Sure enough, the little girl reaches out to feel the soft fur. Her grief is briefly forgotten, and a smile breaks out on her face. She experimentally pats the tail, and then wraps her arms around it.
"So sooooft~" she coos. I smile and stroke her hair, letting my maternal instincts take over. She doesn't remind me of my daughter at all, but a child is a child.
If I could, I would take this girl back to where she came from. She would be with her real mother, but that idyllic future is not the reality. This is none of my business and I shouldn't be here, for she is not my child.
Time ticks by, and the girl has fallen asleep. The sun is dipping lower in the sky now. She should be coming any minute.
A gap opens in the air.