AUTHOR'S NOTE: In a few archaic names, the combination "mizu-ha" is read
"Mitsuha." Don't ask me why. But if someone had that name, she would probably
modernize it...
The small figure opened the front door of the suburban house and called "Tadaima!"
as she neatly kicked off her shoes. She pulled the door shut and stepped up into the
house proper, almost running into the living room. There, with a sigh of relief, she
relaxed the transformation spell and swelled into her true form.
"Okaeri nasai, Mitsuha-sama," the servant playing the part of her father said with a
bow. "Would you care for some refreshments?"
"A margarita," Mitsuha ordered as she lowered herself to recline on the divan that
took up one corner of the room. She favored the servant with a smile, and inwardly
nodded in approval as he leapt to do her bidding, honored by this mark of her
regard.
Her form was rather what had been held in mind when the word 'lush' was
invented. Queenly lines of neck and shoulder rose above twin melons (as one of her
more poetic court had once claimed); her figure narrowed at the waist, to gently
swell into full, womanly hips that managed to be wide without being fat. Her limbs,
upper and lower, were supple and well-formed. The whole was crowned by a pretty
face framed by masses of red-gold curls, two delicately pointed vulpine ears peeking
out atop her head. A matching red-gold fox-tail emerged just above her well-shaped
derriere, its white tip resting on one thigh with a sort of arch promise.
At the moment, her face was set in an expression of petulance. Of all things to
disguise oneself as, a human child *had* to be one of the worst out there! All those
restrictions were set about them, and they weren't even large enough or strong
enough to do anything properly. It must be awful enough for those born as one, or
for those with only two or three tails -- the ones who needed a skull of their target to
transform.
For Mitsuha, Youko of the Seventh Red (seven red tails), who had been a lesser
queen in Makai, it was near-intolerable. Only one thing could have lured her to
leave her comfortable palace, where her servants and lovers -- there was little
difference between the two -- waited diligently and dotingly on her every desire.
"Your margarita, Mistress," the servant said humbly, kneeling before her.
Mitsuha took the cocktail without bothering to look at the pink-haired youko. Stupid
failures; it didn't do to let them start expecting too much. Despite the hopes she
knew he entertained, she would never deign to take an Odd-color to her bed. She
knew others were less picky, but it didn't negate her casual disgust for the failures
of the only known youko genetic experiment.
In the normal way of things, a youko was all but indistinguishable from a mere-fox
at birth, except for the fact that the pup would change as the genetrix did for the first
year or so of life. As a youko grew older, she might expect to grow more tails as her
power increased. And whether or not he had worked on raising his class level or
grown any additional tails, eventually with advancing age the youko's hair/fur would
turn silver, automatically raising that lucky fox an entire class.
Then, a long time ago (probably soon after Saotome Miko-ya-Maihime struck the
bargain with Inari-sama), youko had noticed that some bloodlines would go Silver
earlier than others -- not to mention that some, both among the early-Silver and late-
Silver ones, were more prone to throw the odd golden, black, or albino fox. These
last were often regarded badly; only their pink eyes could enable one to tell an
albino from that rarity, a youko who had survived long enough to pass from Silver to
White.
Inari-sama's miko had set up a breeding program to try to produce youko who
would go Silver as early as possible, and had done some... ah... tampering to try to
make it a dominant trait. While they had, eventually, produced some bloodlines of
those born-Silver (and trusted to them to go out and procreate mightily), they had
also produced several failures along the way.
The Odd-colors had pale fur/hair, often of a light pastel shade. They had greater
youryoku at the outset. However, no Odd-color had ever risen above the Fifth, and
they were *unable* to reach Silver. And their colors were also dominant; only a
born-Silver could override that particular genetic code.
Mitsuha despised them as failures. Still, she would be among the first to admit that
they had their uses. Both as seducers or seducees for other foxes, and as servants for
her. She also disliked the born-Silvers; this, however, was based on pure raw
jealousy.
Seven tails already, and it would be at least *fifty years* before she might hope to
be a Silver, with all the amplification that implied. It was easy to dominate the
weak-minded -- she could do that on pure personality and sexuality alone -- but it
was harder to keep and hold those who had greater strength to them. Illusion and
transformation, her specialty, could only do so much. With the Silver power behind
her, she was sure, she could *own* anyone of a lower class level, many of her
peers, and some even of those above her.
But until then, she had to make do with her own devices, including deceit,
seduction, lies, illusion, and aggressiveness. And THAT was why she was here, in
the Ningenkai, in this miserable human body, at all.
She drank rather more margarita in one swallow than was considered polite in
cocktail circles.
Mitsuha had, some centuries ago, chosen a consort.
He had wandered into her domain, extremely bedraggled and pathetic-looking, and
she had been in something of a merciful mood. She'd ordered her servants to bathe
the mud-splattered dark-haired youkai, feed him, and put him to bed. Who knew; he
might actually clean up decent-looking.
Her new guest had proved to be rather unprepossessing. He was some sort of tengu
hybrid -- with what, she'd never bothered to find out -- and his nose made him look
less like a corvid or raptor than some sort of rodent. Takeshi, for such was his name,
had unruly black hair, scrawny muscles over a short-yet-rangy frame, and had no
skill at anything she tested him at, except scholarship and some slight aptitude for
the forgotten arts of magic.
She'd originally decided to take him as a lover out of a combination of desire for
variety and good-samaritanship. Then he'd proved unexpectedly hard to seduce.
And then, even after they'd been in bed, she had still been having trouble asserting
her own will over him: he would bend to everything, and yet not offer her up the
deepest recesses of his soul.
She'd named him her consort when she found that his passive resistance piqued her
interest. And besides, they worked well together, and she'd never been in any
danger of being outshone by *Takeshi*.
And then, during that, Mitsuha had found that although she could overwhelm him in
all the little things, when it came to a few issues, he absolutely would not budge.
This was, of course, intolerable.
And then there was the concubine she bought him, when she was chasing a
particularly lovely pair of twins and didn't need distractions. Besides, Takeshi'd
been so good for the past decade or so that he deserved a reward. The girl had been
well-muscled, young, and as clean as she could keep herself. She had also been
rather plain: no competition whatever. *Logically*, no competition whatsoever. She
hadn't even had more of a figure than a boy's!
And yet Takeshi, *her* Takeshi, had fallen in love with the little bitch. The only
thing that made the situation bearable was that the girl didn't think of him that way.
And then, while she was running through plans to inconvenience that *cat*, and
made a resolution to be nicer to Takeshi, Galia had shown up. Lithe and lovely, and
yet harsh in her femininity; she'd been determined to add the sword-dancer to her
stable.
And SHE -- she'd fallen in love, not with her, but with her consort's convenience,
who'd apparently been in love as well.
How dare he! How *dare* that slut!
She'd been particularly proud of the little 'accident' she'd arranged. Such a fine
swordwielder, what a tragic accident that her pack of guard thoats had slaughtered
her when he tried to visit her consort's lover; the kept woman had obviously felt it
deeply. Why else would she have drowned herself in the well?
Takeshi had figured out that she'd arranged for the thoats to be released
unexpectedly that night. He'd seemed to blame her, but she'd been confident that
he'd get over it. He'd need comforting, and she was always there.
And then -- it *must* have been those visitors she had. What had that White fox
wanted to go and interfere for, anyway?
Takeshi had stormed in and confronted her. He'd found out somehow that she'd had
to give his little slut a lot of 'assistance' in her drowning. She'd tried facile lies, but
he hadn't believed a word. Finally, he'd hissed "Monster. I despise the very scent of
you," before stalking off.
She'd been upset, but confident that she would have him back, and willing to kneel
before her and beg pardon for those words. This time she'd finally master him, and
her happiness would be his will.
Then one of her servants had found him.
He must have been improving as a thief. He'd stolen the thing from one of her halls
without anyone noticing.
He hadn't even had a second. How *could* he? Takeshi had always hated physical
pain.
And yet he had, undeniably, disembowelled himself in the old and proper way, with
a *sword*. He appeared to have managed it in as painful a manner as possible, too.
Mitsuha gulped down the rest of the margarita. Hang good manners, for once!
She'd studied and learned and hunted down those few who were expert in the field
she was entering upon and learned some more, and at last she'd discovered the
location of Takeshi's next incarnation.
The youko mentally thanked certain Reikai detectives for arranging for the barrier to
go down, some two or three years before it became necessary for her to cross the
worlds with some few of her retinue. They would doubtless have been horrified had
they known the use to which she was putting it, but what the eye doesn't see the
heart doesn't grieve over.
The plan, which one of her servants had come up with, had seemed wonderful, back
in the Makai. It was rapidly losing whatever shreds of glamor might have still
remained about it. Take the form of a girl his age, and train him up right this time.
She was slowly but surely preparing Takeshi -- or his new incarnation -- to be the
perfect consort to her. What foreign general had said "Let them fear me, so long as
they obey me"? She was profiting by his advice: the new Takeshi would think thrice
and four times before disobeying her.
She conveniently ignored that the same general had later said "Let them hate me, so
long as they fear me."
This new Takeshi would be hers, body and soul. How surprised he would be, after
he had confessed his love to her and begged for her hand in marriage -- or maybe
she'd wed him first -- when she revealed that she was in fact a queen of not
inconsiderable wealth and fighting ability!
Well, both of those would be less than they had been. Running a principate from a
remote location is no substitute for actually being there. But she didn't mind *too*
much: Take-chan was more important.
And that other little bonus -- !
It had only been from her studies that she had recognized the departing soul for
what it was, and been able to ensnare it in a soul-net, throwing forgetfulness about it
and setting it to be born nearby. Now she could control THAT person: oh, he would
pay for stealing away a pretty boy who would have -- who SHOULD have -- been
hers.
No one crosses Mitsuha of the Seventh Red and gets away with it. Not even a born-
Silver.
She had met him in his new body already, and mercilessly teased 'Aya-chan.'
Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to devote her full energies to his humiliation, as
she was busy with Take-chan. Regretfully, she decided that she would consolidate
her hold on Take-chan first. *Then* she would get around to tormenting her old
acquaintance. Maybe she would cause him to burn with desire for her so badly he
could not walk, and stand by him laughing. It would be a balmy day in the icehells
and a chill one in those of flame when she took HIM as a lover.
Mitsuha sighed. She could endure a decade or so of being a human child. Maybe
she'd even keep the short hair. For at its end, she saw 'Aya-chan' and Take-chan
kneeling before her. The redhead, she would put through hell. And she would raise
up Takeshi's reincarnation to stand with her, and she would finally see the deepest
secrets of his innermost heart, as he gave them all into her keeping and never defied
her more.
That was what she wanted.
That was what she *wanted*!
"Mitsuha." Don't ask me why. But if someone had that name, she would probably
modernize it...
The small figure opened the front door of the suburban house and called "Tadaima!"
as she neatly kicked off her shoes. She pulled the door shut and stepped up into the
house proper, almost running into the living room. There, with a sigh of relief, she
relaxed the transformation spell and swelled into her true form.
"Okaeri nasai, Mitsuha-sama," the servant playing the part of her father said with a
bow. "Would you care for some refreshments?"
"A margarita," Mitsuha ordered as she lowered herself to recline on the divan that
took up one corner of the room. She favored the servant with a smile, and inwardly
nodded in approval as he leapt to do her bidding, honored by this mark of her
regard.
Her form was rather what had been held in mind when the word 'lush' was
invented. Queenly lines of neck and shoulder rose above twin melons (as one of her
more poetic court had once claimed); her figure narrowed at the waist, to gently
swell into full, womanly hips that managed to be wide without being fat. Her limbs,
upper and lower, were supple and well-formed. The whole was crowned by a pretty
face framed by masses of red-gold curls, two delicately pointed vulpine ears peeking
out atop her head. A matching red-gold fox-tail emerged just above her well-shaped
derriere, its white tip resting on one thigh with a sort of arch promise.
At the moment, her face was set in an expression of petulance. Of all things to
disguise oneself as, a human child *had* to be one of the worst out there! All those
restrictions were set about them, and they weren't even large enough or strong
enough to do anything properly. It must be awful enough for those born as one, or
for those with only two or three tails -- the ones who needed a skull of their target to
transform.
For Mitsuha, Youko of the Seventh Red (seven red tails), who had been a lesser
queen in Makai, it was near-intolerable. Only one thing could have lured her to
leave her comfortable palace, where her servants and lovers -- there was little
difference between the two -- waited diligently and dotingly on her every desire.
"Your margarita, Mistress," the servant said humbly, kneeling before her.
Mitsuha took the cocktail without bothering to look at the pink-haired youko. Stupid
failures; it didn't do to let them start expecting too much. Despite the hopes she
knew he entertained, she would never deign to take an Odd-color to her bed. She
knew others were less picky, but it didn't negate her casual disgust for the failures
of the only known youko genetic experiment.
In the normal way of things, a youko was all but indistinguishable from a mere-fox
at birth, except for the fact that the pup would change as the genetrix did for the first
year or so of life. As a youko grew older, she might expect to grow more tails as her
power increased. And whether or not he had worked on raising his class level or
grown any additional tails, eventually with advancing age the youko's hair/fur would
turn silver, automatically raising that lucky fox an entire class.
Then, a long time ago (probably soon after Saotome Miko-ya-Maihime struck the
bargain with Inari-sama), youko had noticed that some bloodlines would go Silver
earlier than others -- not to mention that some, both among the early-Silver and late-
Silver ones, were more prone to throw the odd golden, black, or albino fox. These
last were often regarded badly; only their pink eyes could enable one to tell an
albino from that rarity, a youko who had survived long enough to pass from Silver to
White.
Inari-sama's miko had set up a breeding program to try to produce youko who
would go Silver as early as possible, and had done some... ah... tampering to try to
make it a dominant trait. While they had, eventually, produced some bloodlines of
those born-Silver (and trusted to them to go out and procreate mightily), they had
also produced several failures along the way.
The Odd-colors had pale fur/hair, often of a light pastel shade. They had greater
youryoku at the outset. However, no Odd-color had ever risen above the Fifth, and
they were *unable* to reach Silver. And their colors were also dominant; only a
born-Silver could override that particular genetic code.
Mitsuha despised them as failures. Still, she would be among the first to admit that
they had their uses. Both as seducers or seducees for other foxes, and as servants for
her. She also disliked the born-Silvers; this, however, was based on pure raw
jealousy.
Seven tails already, and it would be at least *fifty years* before she might hope to
be a Silver, with all the amplification that implied. It was easy to dominate the
weak-minded -- she could do that on pure personality and sexuality alone -- but it
was harder to keep and hold those who had greater strength to them. Illusion and
transformation, her specialty, could only do so much. With the Silver power behind
her, she was sure, she could *own* anyone of a lower class level, many of her
peers, and some even of those above her.
But until then, she had to make do with her own devices, including deceit,
seduction, lies, illusion, and aggressiveness. And THAT was why she was here, in
the Ningenkai, in this miserable human body, at all.
She drank rather more margarita in one swallow than was considered polite in
cocktail circles.
Mitsuha had, some centuries ago, chosen a consort.
He had wandered into her domain, extremely bedraggled and pathetic-looking, and
she had been in something of a merciful mood. She'd ordered her servants to bathe
the mud-splattered dark-haired youkai, feed him, and put him to bed. Who knew; he
might actually clean up decent-looking.
Her new guest had proved to be rather unprepossessing. He was some sort of tengu
hybrid -- with what, she'd never bothered to find out -- and his nose made him look
less like a corvid or raptor than some sort of rodent. Takeshi, for such was his name,
had unruly black hair, scrawny muscles over a short-yet-rangy frame, and had no
skill at anything she tested him at, except scholarship and some slight aptitude for
the forgotten arts of magic.
She'd originally decided to take him as a lover out of a combination of desire for
variety and good-samaritanship. Then he'd proved unexpectedly hard to seduce.
And then, even after they'd been in bed, she had still been having trouble asserting
her own will over him: he would bend to everything, and yet not offer her up the
deepest recesses of his soul.
She'd named him her consort when she found that his passive resistance piqued her
interest. And besides, they worked well together, and she'd never been in any
danger of being outshone by *Takeshi*.
And then, during that, Mitsuha had found that although she could overwhelm him in
all the little things, when it came to a few issues, he absolutely would not budge.
This was, of course, intolerable.
And then there was the concubine she bought him, when she was chasing a
particularly lovely pair of twins and didn't need distractions. Besides, Takeshi'd
been so good for the past decade or so that he deserved a reward. The girl had been
well-muscled, young, and as clean as she could keep herself. She had also been
rather plain: no competition whatever. *Logically*, no competition whatsoever. She
hadn't even had more of a figure than a boy's!
And yet Takeshi, *her* Takeshi, had fallen in love with the little bitch. The only
thing that made the situation bearable was that the girl didn't think of him that way.
And then, while she was running through plans to inconvenience that *cat*, and
made a resolution to be nicer to Takeshi, Galia had shown up. Lithe and lovely, and
yet harsh in her femininity; she'd been determined to add the sword-dancer to her
stable.
And SHE -- she'd fallen in love, not with her, but with her consort's convenience,
who'd apparently been in love as well.
How dare he! How *dare* that slut!
She'd been particularly proud of the little 'accident' she'd arranged. Such a fine
swordwielder, what a tragic accident that her pack of guard thoats had slaughtered
her when he tried to visit her consort's lover; the kept woman had obviously felt it
deeply. Why else would she have drowned herself in the well?
Takeshi had figured out that she'd arranged for the thoats to be released
unexpectedly that night. He'd seemed to blame her, but she'd been confident that
he'd get over it. He'd need comforting, and she was always there.
And then -- it *must* have been those visitors she had. What had that White fox
wanted to go and interfere for, anyway?
Takeshi had stormed in and confronted her. He'd found out somehow that she'd had
to give his little slut a lot of 'assistance' in her drowning. She'd tried facile lies, but
he hadn't believed a word. Finally, he'd hissed "Monster. I despise the very scent of
you," before stalking off.
She'd been upset, but confident that she would have him back, and willing to kneel
before her and beg pardon for those words. This time she'd finally master him, and
her happiness would be his will.
Then one of her servants had found him.
He must have been improving as a thief. He'd stolen the thing from one of her halls
without anyone noticing.
He hadn't even had a second. How *could* he? Takeshi had always hated physical
pain.
And yet he had, undeniably, disembowelled himself in the old and proper way, with
a *sword*. He appeared to have managed it in as painful a manner as possible, too.
Mitsuha gulped down the rest of the margarita. Hang good manners, for once!
She'd studied and learned and hunted down those few who were expert in the field
she was entering upon and learned some more, and at last she'd discovered the
location of Takeshi's next incarnation.
The youko mentally thanked certain Reikai detectives for arranging for the barrier to
go down, some two or three years before it became necessary for her to cross the
worlds with some few of her retinue. They would doubtless have been horrified had
they known the use to which she was putting it, but what the eye doesn't see the
heart doesn't grieve over.
The plan, which one of her servants had come up with, had seemed wonderful, back
in the Makai. It was rapidly losing whatever shreds of glamor might have still
remained about it. Take the form of a girl his age, and train him up right this time.
She was slowly but surely preparing Takeshi -- or his new incarnation -- to be the
perfect consort to her. What foreign general had said "Let them fear me, so long as
they obey me"? She was profiting by his advice: the new Takeshi would think thrice
and four times before disobeying her.
She conveniently ignored that the same general had later said "Let them hate me, so
long as they fear me."
This new Takeshi would be hers, body and soul. How surprised he would be, after
he had confessed his love to her and begged for her hand in marriage -- or maybe
she'd wed him first -- when she revealed that she was in fact a queen of not
inconsiderable wealth and fighting ability!
Well, both of those would be less than they had been. Running a principate from a
remote location is no substitute for actually being there. But she didn't mind *too*
much: Take-chan was more important.
And that other little bonus -- !
It had only been from her studies that she had recognized the departing soul for
what it was, and been able to ensnare it in a soul-net, throwing forgetfulness about it
and setting it to be born nearby. Now she could control THAT person: oh, he would
pay for stealing away a pretty boy who would have -- who SHOULD have -- been
hers.
No one crosses Mitsuha of the Seventh Red and gets away with it. Not even a born-
Silver.
She had met him in his new body already, and mercilessly teased 'Aya-chan.'
Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to devote her full energies to his humiliation, as
she was busy with Take-chan. Regretfully, she decided that she would consolidate
her hold on Take-chan first. *Then* she would get around to tormenting her old
acquaintance. Maybe she would cause him to burn with desire for her so badly he
could not walk, and stand by him laughing. It would be a balmy day in the icehells
and a chill one in those of flame when she took HIM as a lover.
Mitsuha sighed. She could endure a decade or so of being a human child. Maybe
she'd even keep the short hair. For at its end, she saw 'Aya-chan' and Take-chan
kneeling before her. The redhead, she would put through hell. And she would raise
up Takeshi's reincarnation to stand with her, and she would finally see the deepest
secrets of his innermost heart, as he gave them all into her keeping and never defied
her more.
That was what she wanted.
That was what she *wanted*!