Bright white moonlight illuminated the delicate garden. Lilting music wove its way through the air. A boy sat on the edge of a large, pale stone fountain that twisted in a graceful design as it reached toward the heavens. Droplets of water gently tinkled as they fell in streaming cascades down to the lowest basin. He looked into the rippling surface, a young face staring back at him. The boy appeared to be in his middle stages of growth before his development arrested, putting him around half a century old.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" a soft voice addressed him from across the clearing.
The boy nearly fell straight into the fountain as he jerked in surprise. Finding his grip on the ledge, he twisted his torso around to face the voice. With widened eyes like molten gold, he beheld what appeared to him as the most beautiful woman his innocent eyes had ever seen. She looked to be barely an adult, somewhere just beyond her first century of age. A flowing, gauzy dress of the purest white draped from her shoulders, grazing the path beneath her feet. Her arms were bare, but for golden bangles encircling her wrists. She had no distinguishing features to mark her as belonging to any one type of demon.
"Who are you?" the boy demanded, golden eyes narrowing. For a moment all manners were forgotten; it was not his place to ask. By all rights he shouldn't even be here, in this garden tucked away between the houses of the nobles.
The young woman was unfazed. "I am no one of consequence," she replied simply, as she studied the boy. He was clothed in black, and his pale face stood out sharply against the dark of the night. Golden eyes pierced the somber grey of her own sharply. Messy red hair framed his face, sticking out just past the set line of his jaw. A set of matching ears and tail designated him a fox demon.
They were unmoving, as statues in the garden, tension bridging the distance between. The moment was suddenly broken as a searching voice called a ways off, wafting across the grounds: "Kiyoko." It did not escape the boy's notice that the voice was distinctly male.
As if coming out of a trance, the woman inclined her head toward the boy, hair of pale amber brushing gently against her collar. "I must be off," she said and disappeared down the path, not even sparing him a backward glance.
Against his better judgment, the boy followed, keeping to the shadows. Strong fingers gripped the white marble posts of the balcony as he peered between them. His eyes followed the young woman, Kiyoko, across the room, as the man on whose arm she was leaning put her through her paces, showing her off to the other guests as one would a common animal. Prized, but his to control, nonetheless. Nothing more than a pretty face.
She danced beautifully that night, a porcelain doll twirling round endlessly. For a brief moment their eyes locked, grey on gold. His breath caught in his throat. She turned her head away. The moment was gone, but the feeling of electricity as it raced up his spine remained. The boy dropped silently from the balcony into the darkened garden below and swiftly vanished.