*PenofOneAnswer819 does not claim rights to any Sega Enterprises or Sonic Team patented characters or material presented within this work of fan-based fiction: All copyright reserved for the rightful and respective owners.*

PoA: Dark themes ahead: Mentions of suicide included below. You have been warned.

PetolvAr: What is so, we shall see. What has been, will always be. You cannot bury the past with me.

PoA: Wanting change, while staying the same; asking for both, but pursuing neither. This is how to walk the road to nowhere.

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Nine Tales of Lu

Session 1: Know me, know you

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"Dr. Prower,

Just as a reminder, you need to complete the required follow-up paperwork for your most recently attended case. What was your client's name again? Ms. Kinglas? Understand, Dr. Prower, this is why we need to keep our records up to date.

Cordially, Mrs. Puschker"

‒

"Mrs. Puschker,

Sorry, but a follow-up can wait until after my second session with Ms. Kinglas. By the way, did you get the memo about rescheduling my other two clients to the eighteenth and twenty-fourth of October?

Sincerely, Dr. Prower"

‒

"Dr. Prower,

I have already updated the system as per your arrangements. I must remind you that last minute changes like these violate our principles of best practice. A two week notice in advance is guaranteed, and clients expect it from us.

While on the topic of appointments, Mr. Dubical has filed another lawsuit against you regarding the dissolution of his marriage. He stated something about seeing you in the parking lot with this third wife, or whatever the latest gossip is. I respect you enough to believe that his dubious claims do not have merit.

Cordially, Mrs. Puschker"

‒

"Mrs. Puschker,

That'll be the fourth time this year. It's been two months since he claimed I set his house on fire due to an unpaid water bill, so you tell me. Regardless, I'm well aware, but thank you for the update. The misadventures of Ted E. "Debacle" aside, I have personally contacted both clients and informed them of the sudden changes. My meetings with Ms. Kinglas do take precedence.

Sincerely, Dr. Prower

‒

"Dr. Prower,

Please excuse my rudeness, Dr. Prower, but rules are facilitated to assure that optimal care is met. In short, they are not to be taken lightly. Keep treating corporate leniency as expendably as your clients, and we may well lose both.

Cordially, Mrs. Puschker"

‒

"Mrs. Puschker,

I too ask that you pardon my informality, but relax, Penny. I know how to manage my work schedule. Textbook matter and clerical numbers are only so relative to individual care. That being said, you are right in never violating protocol. It's tried and true for a reason.

Sincerely, Dr. Prower"

‒

"Dr. Prower,

I hope you're considering risks you've been taking.

Cordially, Mrs. Pushker

P.S. Pencielle, if you don't mind."

‒

Closing the screen down, Miles sighed as his head throbbed over last night's swell of stressful events. Fingering the edge of his screen, his stomach tightened slightly. His thoughts were a cluttered mess of emails and questions regarding Ms. Kinglas. These questions, along with his growing apprehension, were no easier to digest than last night's supper.

Half processed worries and food aside, his curiosity grew in anticipation of their next meeting. Tense bowels needing release, he scurried off to his rather pristine restroom. If only nature calls could resolve more than his stomach's share of stressors.

The spotless mirror showed two weary rings starting to form underneath his sagging eyelids. Splashing water over his face, the warnings of his secretary and friends continued to ring in his throbbing head.

"I hope you're considering the risks you've been taking."

"I hope I am too, Penny." Closing the cabinet, he swallowed his only key to artificial sleep, and switched the lights off.

L

*Yesterday Evening*

L

Miles had anticipated having a difficult time. No, maybe it was a welcome surprise. In his line of work, there were plenty of worse possible scenarios. At a minimum, a case involving role-reversing right off the bat would not be boring to say the least.

By his recollection, her case file did mention her history of avoiding professional help. That said, if she was fearful, it was notably less prominent in person. Acting as his counselor might be a clever means for Lucy to express her feelings.

He could already see signs of masked intentions in her mannerisms. As quirks go, they were fairly commonplace and muted: The occasional nervous brushing of the hair, palms closed, and arms often crossed, each accompanied by an icy stare that studied his every move. These in person gestures contained elements of scrutiny and curiosity, as well as fear and apprehension.

Wanting to ease the tension, Miles offered his hand in genuine respect after formally introducing himself. She nodded but refused to reciprocate with any personal contact. This was fine; a perfectly normal level of distrust for a new client to have. Miles was sure these guards would come down in time.

Still, somehow, somewhere in the pit of his gut, he feared that he was missing something critical about this woman. It was one thing to be born and "raised" a bit introverted, but unlike him, she definitely had mastered the art of hiding in plain sight; emotionally speaking, she was going to be hard to read.

"I've tried it the easy way before." She blurted out of the blue, startling the two-tailed fox enough that he paid her full attention.

She cupped her head in her left hand and continued "You've had to do this too, no? The long pauses, the nods of understanding, the kind of hand-on-your-chest sympathy that many people illogically find comforting." Lucy's eyes fluttered and rolled in supreme annoyance; she traced the rim of her glass with an irritable, clawing gesture.

Beginning to understand her aversion towards psychiatric stereotypes, Miles voted against formulating any more ideas, despite having a good idea where the conversation was going. He knew it was best to let people reveal the truth for themselves, only probing for hints if necessary. Cautious as this lady was being, forcing answers would not help.

With that thought in mind, he gave a single firm nod. Rubbing his chest in an unintentional show of awkwardness, he decided to ask "You've had sessions before, Ms. Kinglas?"

She paused, and then started laughing unexpectedly. Seemingly aware that the fox doctor had missed his cue, Lucy's smile quickly dissolved, segueing into an explanation "You're a record, Mr. Prower. I suppose that naivety of yours is somewhat charming."

Drinking from her glass without more than an indifferent shrug to Tails' oblivious surprise, she stared him down once again. Miles noted a newly sympathetic look in her eyes as she spoke "You mean well, I'm sure. I admit, I can be a bit difficult at times, but I agreed to have this meeting for a reason: What I have to say is important. I hope through these sessions you will be able to face the truth about yourself. I only warn you that it will be very painful. Are you still sure you want to hear me out?"

Not too sure as to what she meant, Miles still kept to the task and smiled "Whenever you're ready."

"Well, you've had your warning." She cautioned, before taking a deep breath. She then sat near the drawn window, almost huddled in the corner like a child or scared dog. She then raised her tail into sight. Confused, only for a moment, Miles watched as she revealed her secret: One, then two, all the way up to four.

Internally breathing a massive sigh of relief, Miles replied casually "Hmm, fancy that." A charming smile, not unlike Sonic's own, crossed his lips. Admittedly, she almost had him nervous, but with her "big bad" secret out, the doctor felt his calm starting to return "Lovely sheen. You must take good care of them."

Now Lucy was the one utterly bewildered this time. She shot him a look of shock; her tone hugging the borderline of disdain ""Lovely sheen"? I suppose you I didn't make myself clear. Do you know what these are?"

"A curse." Tails replied flatly, no longer trying to play counselor. Feeling oddly relaxed after her revelation, he revealed his own two tails; a mix of disgust and acceptance profaning his innocent features "The kind of curse that separates you from your friends, family, and ruins any sense of normalcy in your life. I wish it stopped at being a deformity, but these things mark our kind: From what I've studied, we all have similar "gifts". I found that out the hard way, a few years back."

He saw her ridged fur and shoulders ease over, before she swirled her four tails up into a single bundle again. Returning to her glass, he could see her tense expression reflected on its distorted surface "Miles, do you know what people say about us? They call us tricksters, liars. Some even treat and refer to us as demons; as the demons we really are."

"As you said, we're only treated as demons." He corrected, curtly and almost too hastily for his own liking "Anyone can be evil − gifted or not − so the exceptionally gifted can naturally be exceptionally evil. I have a few friends who can sympathize with that."

At this, she shot him a glare; this time, not one of blended emotions, but one of raw, unfettered intensity "And how many of these "friends" of yours are still alive? No, rather, how long have you been alive?"

Stunned, but taking her meaning in rapidly, Tails did not like where this was going. He knew what she was comparing herself to, and it could be classified as escapism, a serious case of it. In any case, he had heard the legends before. With all he had seen throughout his life, it would not be an impossible stretch, but the likelihood of her being the real deal just felt off.

Noting that her question had gone unanswered, Lucy sighed and continued "You know what I'm talking about, and I may seem like I'm overreacting, but Miles, can I tell you the truth?" Her new question had pulled him out of this daze long enough for him to nod, allowing her to admit "It's only a lady's place to say, and I'll tell you: I'm over a hundred years old. I'm one hundred and twenty four, born July 7, 1943, to be exact."

Pausing for a moment, Tails blinked, almost not responding to her claims. Not only did it seem ridiculous, but it made him start to wonder if he had been entertaining someone with a more serious disorder. Unless this was just her way of coping with her natural quirks, as he hoped it was...

Knowing he had slid off topic, Tails did understand one thing very well: Being hated, being called a monster, especially being treated like one was irreversibly traumatic. Having been fortunate enough to know Sonic, Tails considered how lucky he was. He had no idea the level of abuse this lady had suffered from.

Lucy, seeing his distrustful expression, sighed before producing from her bag a heavily faded, but otherwise well-preserved passport. The name and photo, barring minor changes, matched; the date read October 17, 1968.

Unconvinced, even more so than before, Tails chose to humor the obviously forged document and photograph, at least for the time being. He realized that this woman might be a security risk, even a person of interest to the authorities. Nevertheless, he remained unperturbed, convinced that he could handle himself if the situation came to any hostility. Perhaps a more thorough background check was in order. Thankfully, she seemed comfortable enough to keep talking, especially after he accepted her "proof" as authentic.

At any rate, he felt listening to her was still the best option.

"I know, it's hard to believe, but you won't have to." She warned, trying her best to restore any lost composure "In time, you'll start to see for yourself. Still, while we're here, like this, I guess you'd like to hear about my past. Unless, of course, you've changed your mind?" She asked, a hopeful shiver hidden beneath her firm tone.

Curious, now more than ever, Miles, hands and arms draped over both elbows, nodded welcomingly "No, by all means, please continue."

Taking in a deep breath, Lucy sighed rather lightly as she began.

"I was born to a rather gifted family. Not wealthy, well, not exactly. My brothers and sisters were all lessoned in the arts: Acting, painting, writing, singing, you name it. Back then, my family was called the Kingston family."

Raising his eyebrow slightly, Tails interjected, his words laced with humor and suspicion ""Kingston"? That... would explain a lot."

"No relation." She dismissed him with something of a half eye-roll, either noticing his distrust or brushing off his failed attempt to make her smile "No, we never enjoyed much success, but my father insisted that we all attend Empire University, back when that level of education actually counted for something."

"Hmm, Empire City University?" Miles recounted from memory, already snagging onto to something odd "Wasn't it referred to as York State University back then?"

Not even slightly flustered by his catch, Ms. Kinglas nodded calmly in reply "The same. My father's alma mater, where he received both his Doctorate in Musical Arts, and M.A. in World History degrees. It seemed right for all of us to follow in our father's footsteps. My brothers were both enrolled around the time I was born."

"You came rather late into the family?" Miles noted, sipping from his glass.

"Yes." Lucy admitted, solemnly it seemed as she shut her eyes, as if to block out a painful memory "My mother did not expect it; she did not expect me. At her age, it was unlikely, even unhealthy to have a child."

Seeing Tails' eyes widen slightly, she sighed and cut off his potential question "No, she didn't die, but both my parents would eventually wish I had."

"Why?" The two-tailed fox asked the obvious question, unable to see any dots connecting in her story.

"You see, my father, and mother too, were both very superstitious people." Lucy explained, trying very hard to look Tails dead in the eyes as she explained "Not just superstitious. They were convinced that my birth was an ill omen for the family. It started when my eldest brother, seven years in and seemingly bound for a secure future, suddenly dropped out of the university. My father found out he had run off with a girl he had met. This would have been fine, had the same girl not been a barfly, and worse, one that convinced him to do the unthinkable, apparently to prove his affections for her."

"Dropping out wasn't enough?" Miles pondered aloud, scratching his chin as he tried to puzzle out her story "So, what did she ask him to do?"

"According to him? Rob a bank." Lucy said dryly, thinking over the memory with a sickened scowl "I don't even know if that part was true. For all we know, my brother could've just been monetarily desperate enough to try something so stupid. I don't know how much this girl was involved, or how much of this story of his story I believe. I was too young at the time, but I did eventually find out that my brother, in all his despair, took his own life two years after he dropped out. I was just turning nine when it happened."

"My God." The fox doctor blurted out, almost unthinkingly. The more he caught on to her tone and clarity of details, the more he became convinced that this story, at least parts of it, weren't fabricated at all. Recent years of study had given him a sharp eye for the lying types, and even a sense for those suffering from a false memory. Lucy's story did not strike him as either, but regaining his composure, he caught himself and said "I apologize, Ms. Kinglas. Go on."

Stone cold as ever, only small vocal tremors alluded to Lucy's true feelings "C'est la vie, as they say. It wasn't my fault. My being born had nothing to do with what happened to him. I couldn't tell my parents that though, no, not after this wretched thing appeared." Here, she grabbed hold of a very specific tail with a tight squeeze "It was fast too. It only took three months for this thing to match the other in size. It started growing a week after his funeral."

Both foxes had not noticed the waiter, now impatiently looking them over. Oblivious to their conversation, the well-dressed rat merely bowed with an audible groan after being sent away. He left, but not before muttering something akin to "Talking to oneself while being spoken to? And they say mice are blind."

Distracted, but notably less tense, Lucy seemed almost glad for the interruption. At least, it had provided the perfect excuse for her to return to silence.

Noting her quiet discomfort, Tails figured that now might be good time to call it. Eager to know more as he was, he knew it would take time. He could not weed out which parts of her broken tale were true yet, and so a bit of investigating was now in order.

Realizing he still had to be wary of her, Tails nonetheless found it in his overly warm heart to make his suggestion as softly as possible "Lucy, we can stop here if you want."

She looked up at him, a rather frightening hollowness in her distant eyes. Frigid as an icicle, she returned his comforting gaze and answered "For now, yes. Whenever you decide is best. The sooner the better though, if you want to learn the truth."

-l-

End of Chapter 2

-l-

I suppose it isn't polite to disgrace family, but brothers who make mistakes, even fatal ones, often teach us valuable lessons. At any rate, mine served to inspire Lucy's background story.

As a hint for those worried about the kitsune cliché, I will say this: Even in this story, the kitsune are mythological, or quite simply, fake. That's all for now.

Until next time.