Fire of Youth
Chapter 36
*So proud of the title for this chapter xD
**and of course my keyoard breaks right near when I finish...(I should have it back in a few days; keyboard just needs replacing...again) so I'm using my handy dandy Bluetooth keyboard, my old savior for shit like this. x'D
Being a mechanic meant knowing, through sight, hearing, touch, smell, and a little old fashioned intuition when a thing needed fixing. Markie often joked that he just had to be in the same room as one of their vehicles on base and he would know if something wasn't quite right with it, like it was some magical superpower he had developed over the years, calling it his "fix-it sense." But the best jokes were funny because they were based in fact. All those decades of his life fixing up trucks, motorcycles, and cars of every shape, size, and brand, and more recently in his life the fancy new ones with all their new-fangled computer systems, had left him with a keen eye and a trained ear when it came to machines. There was no need for those sparkling dashboards that would alert of a vehicle's ailments. He knew, plain and simple. Had someone told him three months ago that expertise could be used on a race of machine people from outer space, he would've frankly laughed at them – and not because he didn't believe the whole "alien machine people" bit. People were complicated in a way machines couldn't be. If a car developed a problem with its suspension, figuring out why and fixing the problem was a straightforward thing. Once the problem was fixed, the car would go back to operating like normal, as if nothing had happened. But people weren't cars. When people broke, sometimes they broke in ways that couldn't be fixed. It was like seeing a warning light on the dash start blinking like mad but none of the solutions made it go away. It stayed there, blinking, blinking, driving a good heart plumb crazy. For breaks like that, he was empty-handed when it came to fixes. He was just an old mechanic, not one of those fancy, new-fangled psycho-therapists broke folk were told to go see. Just because he couldn't help didn't mean he couldn't understand though. The shrinks would use big fancy words to describe the problem, but in his mind it was a simple matter: war broke people. Didn't matter if they were made of flesh or forged from metals he had no name for, if they had a brain of grey squish or a brain of circuits and wires, war tore a person up without bias and spat them out like chewing tobacco.
Poor Arcee was the chewing tobacco war liked to keep spitting out.
He admitted he sometimes gave in to despair at night, wondering why that doctor of theirs couldn't fix a fancy computer brain. Computers were fixable. And yet, perhaps he was being too old fashioned or idealistic, the ensuing sunrise always gave him hope. He may not be able to fix this particular type of break but he could at least try to help, and a new day meant a fresh chance. Just because the light on the dash kept blinking no matter what fix a mechanic tried didn't mean they wouldn't keep trying. As a mechanic with nearly thirty years under his belt, not at least making the attempt was shameful, and quite frankly he'd bidden his time long enough. This morning was as good a time as any to get to work.
Finished dressing, he grabbed his best hat from its peg on the wall, a stiff creamy white one with a black hatband and brass buckle set, and he headed out the door into the bright Nevada morning.
"What hangar's she in this morning, Markie?" he wondered into the Bluetooth.
"Last the doc checked, B."
He smiled a wry smile. 'Good. Least she didn't swap like last night.'
He hailed one of the rookies driving around, Ryan, and simply said "B" when she asked where he wanted to go. That was the great thing about being old he chuckled to himself – he could enlist the young people on site as a free taxi service. After a grateful hat tip, he ambled up into the passenger seat.
"You're looking spiffy this morning," Ryan commented. "Something special going on?"
"Nah," he dismissed through another hoarse chuckle. "Just feel its a good day to wear the hat."
"You mean the hat," she reminded him. Her voice sharpened, "What's at B?"
A scream split the air, a young male voice so terrified it was beyond cohesive sound.
"What the hell?" Ryan demanded. Her foot slammed down on the accelerator.
"No, wait!" he barked.
The jeep jumped to a stop then continued to inch forward like it was on the streets of Kabul. As the Jeep neared hangar B from the east side, Infernus slunk into view, low to the ground. He passed by, took notice of them for a split second, and continued to slink off. He didn't need a report – his body language was report enough. Worry twanged through his old bones. He motioned for Ryan to approach Hangar B. Suddenly reluctant, she obliged. She put the Jeep in idle near one of the sliding doors. Ryan commented something but his focus was so intent on the doors that her words sailed in one ear and straight out the other. The right door, he noted, had been moved along its runner from the position he'd left it last night, not a whole lot but obviously enough for Infernus to slip in and out if he were careful. Past the doors, beside one of the two jets that had kept her company, was the dark blue, pink-trimmed form of Arcee looking at once mortified, infuriated, and pitying, staring at the ground with one hand on the side of her head. He tapped on the door but she didn't seem to hear him.
"What is wrong with me?" she muttered.
He took his cue and strolled in, "You're not goin' kookoo if that's what you're thinkin' sweetheart."
She jumped and looked down. "Oh, it's just you. Sorry, Neal."
He waved the apology aside. "Guessin' that question stems from whatever made that poor kid slink outta here like a spanked puppy?"
The sigh she gave was hoarse surrender. "I overreacted," she said. "He was behind me; I couldn't see him; instinct and paranoia took over. He wasn't doing anything, all he did was touch his backstrut to mine, and I still almost –"
He smirked a little, "So that was why he howled like a coyote zapped by a cattle prod."
Her glowing blue eyes rimmed in pink went to the floor again.
"Sweetheart, you're not goin' crazy," he repeated softly. "Trust me on this. You're broke, that's all. Breaks like yours don't fix overnight; they don't always stay patched either. Even little, harmless things can cause a crack to open up again to let the skeletons crawl out of the graves you dug for them."
Her eyes went up again, flashing at him. "Oh, and I suppose you're the expert?"
"Matter of fact I am," he said in a huff, arms folded over his plaid shirt.
The flash subsided a little. Her metal brows furrowed, "You're a veteran? You don't look old enough."
"Served in the very last legs of Vietnam," he told her. "And if that's not 'expert' enough for ya, I've had two nieces and a nephew serve in the Afghan conflict. I know better than those shrinks in their fancy offices what war does to the brain."
The flash went away completely. Her little fins on her back drooped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause offense."
He shrugged, arms still up and folded, "None taken. You didn't know. And I don't exactly play the part, do I?"
"How though? How do you sound so...normal?"
"Normal?" he chuckled. "Darlin' I'm probably about as broke as you are. I just look the break in the eye, laugh at it, and give it the bird."
Pure bewilderment flashed into her pink-rimmed eyes. "That's a solution? That's can't be a solution..."
"Aaand that's your problem," he declared.
"Huh?"
"You keep looking at the glass half empty. You don't look to the simplest solutions because you feel distrust towards simplicity. War's taught you that if something sounds too good to be true it probably is. I ain't gonna fault that logic; it's based in reason. But lemme ask you this: Did Optimus survive for so long by staring down at a half empty glass?"
She winced. No words came out.
"Loss shouldn't define who you are," he said gently. "Who you are should be defined by how you cope with and overcome it."
"Why should I though?" she hissed in sudden vitriol. "What's the point of progress if it keeps getting reversed? Loss is what defines me because that's all that seems to happen to me!"
Anger bubbled up in his throat. He jabbed his index finger at her, "Don't chu dare play that card on me, young lady! Pardon m' plain speaking but that's horse shit an' you know it!"
His rapid, volcanic tone shift seemed to throw her off guard.
"If loss is all you know," he said in still fiery voice, "you'd be alone right now. You ain't. So quit it with that goddamned lie. That lie has killed too many good people."
He was suddenly looking at a startled child. He grimaced on the inside. He hadn't meant to sound so thunderous to her but sometimes a good yelling was the only way to get through to someone so thoroughly entrenched.
"Listen, sweetheart," he sighed, massaging one temple, "my old ma gave me a bit of wisdom after I came back from Vietnam. I was broken, like you. She told me that the mind is a lens shaped by our experiences. Your lens, like so many other active soldiers, has been clouded by loss and war to see and assume the worst. It's hard not to see the world like that after you've seen the worst your species can do to each other. But to see again, she told me, all I had to do was find another lens to look out of. Someone else's lens. I chose the lens of Christ, not because I agreed with him on every talking point, but because the lens of hope and idealism he offered helped me see straight again."
"But no one here is unaffected by war. Who am I supposed to choose?"
He smiled, "I think you already know whose lens to use, darlin'. You're just too scared to try."
In a tip of his hat, he ambled back out into the morning heat.
Too scared to try.
His words kept banging around in her helm like ringing bells. Neal was right. She was too scared to try – too scared of more disappointment. To trust hope after it had betrayed her so many times was, in a word, foolish.
"Arcee?"
Ratchet's voice made the echo chamber go silent. "What is it Ratchet?"
"I need need you at the main hangar. I have important information you need to hear."
She balked. That was where Infernus was. That was the last place she wanted to be right now. But she shoved the fear down. "On my way."
Arriving at the main hangar was a matter of only a few short minutes. She had hoped Ratchet would go on ahead without her, allowing her to slip in without too much attention being cast her way, but of course hope betrayed her yet again for old time's sake. Only Infernus made it a point not to look at her. He acknowledged her instead through his field. There was no anger she could see in him, no indication of him holding a grudge, just an awkward kind of ripple in his field that betrayed he was still shaken. His field rippled more when she got closer to him, and she thought she saw him jump imperceptibly. Wincing on the inside, she made a point of putting herself in his line of sight, off to his left and forward a few paces. The ripple slowed.
"So? What've you got for us, sunshine?" demanded Wheeljack.
Ratchet glowered at the Wrecker before deciding not giving in to the obvious bait was the wiser choice. The glower, however, didn't go away.
"It is not often," he said, "that I am forced to thank someone who so persistently tries to irritate me, but here we are. Your 'gift' has borne fruit."
"You got it working?" she gasped. "The chip?"
"I did."
"Then we're finally on even ground for once," muttered Infernus. "Cool!"
"That statement may be somewhat premature," Ratchet warned. "Without access to the signal database Shockwave is no doubt using to keep track of his 'pets', and since I can only detect the transmissions from any active chips, we don't know how many chip-bearing remains the Decepticons have collected. However, we will still be able to answer one simple question: how many Predacons are still online?"
"Do we have an answer to that yet?" Prowl demanded.
"At the moment, there is only one signal I can detect that is currently moving. In Japan."
The gasp Miko gave was more like a delighted shriek. "There's one in Japan?! No way!"
"Ratchet, I think I can confirm it, too," Rafael butted in. "In the past few weeks there's been a massive string of kitsune sightings."
"No way! Guys, kitsune's been trending on Japanese social media under the hashtag #WhattheFox? for the last three days!" Miko cried. "Check it out!" she held her phone up.
"WhattheFox," Bulkhead chortled. "That's a good one!"
"Where is the signal right now, doc?" wondered Infernus.
Ratchet was silent as he brought up the satellite map. A purple dot blinked away near the tip of the main Japanese island. For now, it appeared stationary.
"That's the Aomori prefecture!" cried Miko. "I've been there before!"
Ultra Magnus stared at her for a moment. One brow ridge rose up a few degrees as strange gleam came into his optics. Miko eyed him funny in return. "What?" she demanded. The mech turned away without saying anything, the gleam still present. He turned to Infernus, who exchanged an almost imperceptible nod. She scrutinized Magnus herself but other than the gleam in his gaze his expression and field were both too neutral to translate into anything. Typical Magnus.
"Let's investigate the signal," Infernus decided. "If the 'Cons haven't gotten to it yet, we still can."
"And who do you plan to send?" Ratchet inquired. "Japan is a densely populated series of islands. Keep that in mind."
Infernus's gaze swept over them a few times. His decision was quick and final: "Prowl and Arcee."
For someone who had nearly gotten the spark scared right out of his chassis less than half an hour ago that was a remarkably sound decision. In truth, she was thankful he was sending her to the other side of the planet for a while, even if it was with one of the most unbearable personalities ever to be generated by the Well. Being near Infernus right now was far too awkward for her preference. She had to assume he had probably factored that into the decision somehow.
Ratchet opened the groundbridge. "I'll be sending you outside the suburb of Wakakusa. That is the nearest I can get you to where the signal currently is without having too much attention drawn onto you. Too close, and Shockwave will deduce our advantage."
"I'm not sure that's smart, 'bridging them into a dense suburb..." Rafael protested.
Miko dismissed the argument, "Eh, don't worry. It's like two in the morning over there or something. And northern Aomori is mostly rice patties and farmland anyway."
Prowl transformed and idled at the ready. She joined him.
"Take Miko with you," Ultra Magnus added.
"What?!" Jack exclaimed. "You actually want her to go with them?!"
"You want me to go with them?!" repeated Miko.
The gleam in the older mech's optics returned full force. "You're a local. You possess personal experience with the region, the people, the culture – I consider your presence mission critical," he clarified through the same stony expression as always.
"But what about –?"
Infernus put his hands forward and patted the air to silence her, "Don't worry about helicopter mom. We'll cover you."
Miko stared at him in shocked, delighted silence for a minute, then cheered, whooped, ran down the steps and slung herself over the railing near their base. She had to hold back a snicker at the annoyance and pure dread that suddenly ignited in Prowl's field when she hopped into his passenger seat. If Prowl didn't snap halfway into the mission she would be thoroughly impressed.
To go from the array of browns and golds of Nevada to the lush forests and vast farmlands of Aomori prefecture was like walking from reality into a stylized video game. Actually appreciating it when it was the wee hours of the morning was a different story. There were lights coming from the different residential areas nearby, she could see the glow they gave off when they weren't blocked by trees or hills, but the roads they were driving on were lit only by Arcee and Prowl's headlights. At least in that way rural Nevada and Aomori shared something in common. While Prowl drove at exactly the speed limit, she skimmed through social media posts using the right hashtag. One trend began to form the more she skimmed: no one described seeing a kitsune fox of any shape, color, or size. What they were seeing was its hoshi no tama instead, the magical "star balls" that always told of their presence. The kitsune itself had yet to be spotted. It wasn't a huge find but she told them about it anyway.
Prowl gave a low grumble of his engine that sounded more like a low hum. "That can't be a wayward spark..."
"What do you think it might be then?" wondered Arcee over his radio.
"I am not certain," he admitted slowly. "I do not have enough data to postulate. Is there anything more you can tell me about these hoshi no tama?"
"Um, I mean, stories vary from region to region, but the stories I was told in Tokyo was that the kitsune carried it either in its mouth or on its tail when not disguised as a person. My grandparents always insisted the hoshi held some of the kitsune's power. That's why their hoshi glows and why they keep it close."
Again came the low hum from his engine, "That does not help."
"Well I'm sorry," she snipped. "I'm doing the best I can here! It's not like I have a degree in Mythical Creatures That Are Actually Alien Robot Animals!"
His engine shifted to a growl as a chill entered the cabin. Arms crossed, she huffed back at him. The growl only deepened. It was easy to picture him gritting his metal teeth plates at her.
"Prowl, she's your guide for this mission so she's the one calling the shots," Infernus scolded over the radio. "Treat her with the same respect you do Magnus, or I'm recalling you," he didn't sound angry to her ears but there was a bite to his voice.
"...Yes, Prime," he answered flatly.
Her tongue went out in victory. The growl came back.
"Miko, don't antagonize him either."
"Aw!"
"I mean it. You're the leader for this mission. I'm expecting you to act like one."
She wanted to bite back that being the leader was no fun. She didn't. "Fine..." she sighed.
Prowl went silent. She went back to skimming her phone.
"Miko, is there a pattern to the sightings of these hoshi no tama?"
She skimmed some more. It didn't look like there was a pattern, she relayed. People anywhere from Aomori to Yamaguchi had posted about seeing it, from rural towns to big cities.
"What is the most recent post?" he demanded in a tighter voice.
She skimmed back to the top of the social media site. "Saitama prefecture. That was two hours ago."
"That's not possible," Arcee argued. "The signal from the chip is in northern Aomori. That can't be the creature we're after."
Prowl hit the brakes so hard her phone went right out of her hand, landing up between the crook of the windshield and the dashboard. Cables snaked out from the glove compartment and snatched it before she could. The social media site went into a scrolling frenzy. When she tried to grab it he moved it out of reach.
"What the heck, Prowl?!" she demanded. "Give it back!"
"It isn't a creature..." he muttered.
She eyed the glowing dash, "What?"
He handed the phone back to her (without answering her question) and started to drive again exactly at the speed limit. His scanner came up on the dashboard display screen. She leaned in to peer at the map, then out the windows, then back again. She stared at the display for a few more moments before growing bored and looking out the windows again. With most of the countryside nearly pitch black though there wasn't much to entertain her eyes other than a few blips of light that were either small towns, homes, or public shrines. Bored, her eyes strayed back to the scanner on the display. For a while she watched the scanner beam thing rotate around and around, unable to find anything in range, but at least the screen was slightly more interesting than the darkened countryside. Still boring though. Huffing, she put her elbow on the arm rest, balled her fist, and let her cheek rest against it. She had been expecting looking for a kitsune to be more exciting than driving along an empty, dark road in northern Japan.
"Why are you such a jerk?" she demanded.
Prowl didn't answer.
She sighed and leaned back into the seat. Why hadn't Infernus sent 'Bee instead? He was more fun to drive with, no matter if she couldn't understand what he was saying.
"We're nearing the signal's location," reported Prowl.
He slowed and pulled into a parking lot that connected to a small park decorated with stone sculptures looking like old lanterns illuminated by a few small lights. If she remembered the area right, this park was right next to a shrine to Inari. That matched with most of the hoshi sightings being around such shrines. No sign of one now though.
"Have you any suggestions on how to proceed, Miko?" he asked.
She couldn't help blinking in surprise. After having her phone stolen, she hadn't thought he would revert back to listening to her.
"Miko?" Arcee repeated.
She pushed the passenger side door open. Her first instinct was to run around alongside Arcee and Prowl, phone in hand, waiting for something to show up. But looking for a kitsune was never that easy. And after finding out certain info on Predacons through Catscratch, getting close to this robo-fox with two 'bots in tow was probably not smart. It'd run off long before they ever got close, and the best chance they had of getting on friendly terms with the kitsune was to not scare the scrap out of it. That left only one solution, and neither of them would like it. But if she were in charge like Infernus said...
She hopped back into the passenger seat.
"Well?" demanded Prowl.
"I need you guys to stay here. Don't follow me," she whispered back. "I can't risk you two spooking our fox 'bot by being mistaken for Dragon Hunters."
Prowl issued a low, grinding grumble. "I do not like the risks that strategy presents."
"But I'm in charge, so you can't stop me," she huffed. "Relax, Prowl. Kitsune aren't violent, they're playful. Just like real foxes."
"I am not willing to stake your life on that."
"Trust me, Prowl," she insisted. "No one's reported getting hurt. What makes you think I'll be attacked?"
He grumbled again, "Very well. Give me your communicator first."
She held it out. The cables came out of the glove compartment again. One smaller cable plugged into its power port. Her phone screen went screwy for a second but then returned to normal. He handed it back, explaining that he'd hooked the phone's frequency to his own as a crude means of encryption. She didn't pretend to understand what that meant but she thanked him anyway and hopped back out into the parking lot. Slowly but surely she made her way across the parking lot and into the park itself. Though it wasn't as large as some of the parks she remembered visiting back in Tokyo, it was still a nice little park; well maintained in the typical Japanese fashion, the trees trimmed and the grass perfectly cut. It took her only a few minutes to cross it and hit the barrier of trees that separated the park from the shrine beyond.
Turning the phone's flashlight on, she headed in. Five steps in, her phone buzzed. It was a text: I am detecting movement near you. Do you see anything?
The phone's short white beam wasn't very good past a couple of feet but she whipped it around anyway. She saw nothing, but she swore for a second she heard a strange little noise that reminded her of R2D2 from Star Wars, just softer, like the little droid was trying to whisper. Directing her phone towards the noise revealed nothing. Goosebumps prickling up on her arms, she lowered the phone.
No she reported.
Keep alert. I have reason to suspect you are being monitored.
Somehow that was less creepy than him saying "You are being watched."
She kept going. The trees thinned out to reveal a path past some tall grass, lined by red torii gates she recognized. They were part of the Takayama Inari shrine. Kitsune were said to frequent Inari shrines, or so her grandparents had said. Wading through the grass, she emerged onto the path and began to stroll underneath the torii, following the path to the main shrine. About halfway along the path to the shrine she again heard that strange whisper of a beep. In looking for it, she swore she saw something move just above the tall grass. She was sure of it. Whatever it was couldn't be a 'bot though – there was no heavy thudding of metal feet at all, just the wispy beeping. The closer she got to the shrine, the more often she heard the beeps. As she ascended the steps to the shrine proper she thought she heard a weird kind of whirring hum, like from a computer fan, but like before looking for the thing making the noises proved pointless. Whatever it was kept its distance. The whatever-it-was didn't sound dangerous though. Had the beep-y thing wanted to hurt her it would've done it by now, right?
An idea popped into her head at the top of the steps: If she had an audience like she thought she did, and like Prowl thought she did, then why not show she came in peace?
Her phone was slipped into a back pocket on stepping up to the shrine. To the carved stone fox she bowed respectfully, apologizing for not bringing a gift but reminding the statue that it was two in the morning, that she was probably trespassing, and to "please not get her in trouble."
Respects paid, she turned to head to the nearest bench to wait and watch but froze instead. Hovering in the air across the other side of the path, right above a small pond, was a bright white sphere of light. It didn't look the images of hoshi no tama done by artists; there was no airborne "tail" that swayed like a candle flame. It was just that: a perfectly round, glowing white ball, like a giant glow-in-the-dark pearl. Then, as she watched it, the light blinked out. The beeping sound passed by her closer than it ever had before fading away again. But she got the weirdest sense there was someone watching. She could feel it – a tingle at the back of her head that she always got when someone had their eyes on her, and it definitely wasn't Prowl and Arcee. Rather than let fear take hold, her curiosity jumped. She whipped the phone out and headed for the tall grass and reeds that grew around the pond the light had been over. She could find no proof of anything, sphere thing or 'bot, having been there. Whatever the sphere thing was it wasn't attached to a 'bot.
Disappointed but no less curious, she waded out of the tall grass and headed up one of the hills beside the path.
Rustlerustle
She spun back to the reeds below, phone light up. They swayed as if something had just gone through it but she could see nothing that would've caused it. It couldn't have been the wind – there was no wind.
Rustlerustlerustle
She spun again. She thought she caught something in the light, something that bounced the light back at her, but it moved too fast for her to catch what it had been or how big it was.
"Uh, hello?" she asked. "Foxy?"
Rustlerustlerustlerustle "Heeheehee!"
She spun once again. This time, she caught something clear in the flashlight: the tip of a white tail. Another giggle escaped.
The rustling of the grass shifted closer, behind her, then came to a stop. Very slowly she turned around and held the phone light up. Peering at her through orange-red eyes, pure gleaming white and adorned in faintly glowing red streak markings was a great metal fox the size of Bluestreak's Mazda mode. Somehow attached to its tail tip without actually touching it was the bright white orb from earlier. Giving a cute yip, the fox bowed down like a big dog doing one of those stretches animals did after a long nap, and waited in that pose. Not knowing what else to do, and fairly sure she understood what it wanted, she bowed back in the traditional way. The fox liked the gesture, yipping again and bouncing on its front paws. But then it tensed and backed away, its bright orange-red optics fixed on something behind her as it ducked into the grass. Then, with a yip, it leapt straight over her and down the hill. Following her (she was pretty sure it was a her) path made her suck in a gasp. The fox was running straight for Prowl, yipping, and began to bounce and jump circles around him, every so often doing that morning stretch bow.
Her hands went to the side of her head, 'I told him to stay where he was! Ugh! You moron!'
Prowl, not understanding, changed one hand to a blaster. Startled, the fox whined and skidded to a stop, forcing herself low to the ground, then began a low growl.
"Prowl!" No!" she shouted. "It's okay! She's just saying hello!"
He did not change the gun back. She bit down on her lip as the seconds went by. But the hand replaced the gun at last. The growl stopped but the fox stayed low.
"Now bow," she said.
His gaze flicked up to her, "What?"
"Bow. Like this," she demonstrated. "And say you're sorry."
Though he gave her a baffled, somewhat disgusted look, he did as told. Arms at his side, he bowed. The fox pricked right back up and returned the bow. She didn't think he'd go through with the second part but to her surprise he did, and it sounded pretty sincere to her ears. The foxed bowed a second time. A sigh of relief escaped her lungs, one hand to her forehead as the adrenaline spurt wore off. She sprinted down the hill to join them as Arcee stepped into view. She offered the fox a quick, informal bow which the fox accepted. Arcee followed her example. It too was accepted.
"Fascinating..." muttered Prowl. "My theory was correct. You do employ a survey drone. That is what the locals have been reporting as hoshi no tama."
Giggling, the fox nodded.
"Um, your kitsune-ness?" she asked. "We need some help. Can you help us?"
The fox looked around and then, in a beautiful flow of parts like someone unfolding an origami animal, shifted form fox to 'bot. She'd been expecting a build more like Arcee to match the female giggles she'd been hearing but it was a build more like Bluestreak's she was looking at. Slender, smoothly angular, but it was definitely a dude's body. Prowl and Arcee didn't seem to think it was strange though so she decided to roll with it – the myths did say kitsune could assume the form of either gender, and that meant they would sound like whatever gender they'd disguised themselves as. Who was to say they couldn't mix and match?
"Not here," whispered the fox lady-guy. "Too open. Come with me."
Transforming, the fox darted off in the direction towards the parking lot Prowl and Arcee were supposed to have stayed in.
Prowl looked down at her, "Orders?"
"We follow her. Duh."
Prowl did not fight. He transformed and opened the driver's side door.
"No, not here," she insisted. "Your tires will tear the grass up."
He shifted back. Kneeling, he offered her a ride in his open palm. Only once he was back on cement, and only once she was back on solid ground, did he change back to his disguise. This time he opened the driver's side door to her. It wasn't exactly an explicit "I'm sorry" but she decided to take it as if it were. As soon as the seat belt was over her chest, he pulled out back onto the open road, Arcee right behind him. He said nothing. Feeling a little awkward about the quiet, she went back to skimming through social media on her phone, every so often shifting her eyes up to check the time on the top screen or to check the map Prowl had on his dash display that said they were heading south. About an hour went by in uncomfortable silence. The flat region around the Takayama Inari shrine was replaced by the looming peak of Mount Iwaki and countless smaller peaks. The kitsune pulled off the road at one point and led them deeper into the mountains on a rugged "road" that was really just nicely laid gravel. After a rough ride up the world leveled out a little. At the top, their kitsune waited for them. As soon as it caught sight of them, it padded off a short distance towards a rise in the mountain around them and stopped. The fox pressed one paw against the stone and the mountain quite literally opened up with a smooth groan, revealing a narrow tunnel.
Jerking her head towards it, she ducked in.
Prowl, obviously not happy, nonetheless followed her in.
The simple tunnel went down, down, for she didn't know how long, but when it finally opened up into an giant cavern she let her mouth drop. The ground was carved to resemble the grounds of a palace, and etched into the wall opposite them was what looked like a giant Inari shrine.
The kitsune shifted back to 'bot mode, "Now," she pressed, her voice echoing around the chamber like music, "what is it you need my help with?"
I am so sorry this took so long, and that it isn't very lengthy. I was in one of my perfectionist funks. But yay it's done! :D
I forget who suggested the idea to me but credit to whatever your name is about making a kitsune have the body of one gender but the voice of another. x'D
Next chapter will finish with Japan, and then onto the epic fight between Infernus and Predaking! :D