Tamamo was sitting on the porch, enjoying a rare moment of peace with a cup of tea. The evening breeze carried the scent of cherry blossoms, and the sound of Ushiwakamaru humming softly inside was oddly soothing. She glanced over her shoulder, curious about what the girl was up to.
"Tamamo-sama!" Ushiwakamaru called, her small voice brimming with excitement.
Tamamo set her cup down as the child came bounding out, clutching something in her tiny hands. "Look, look! I made this for you!"
Ushiwakamaru proudly held up a delicate origami fox, its golden paper glinting faintly in the twilight.
"For me?" Tamamo asked, taking the little creation with surprising care. She turned it over in her hands, marveling at the precise folds. "This is... quite impressive, Ushi."
The child beamed, then pulled out another origami piece—a black paper bird with angular wings—and held it up for Sojōbō, who had just returned from a patrol around the mountains.
"And this one's for Uncle Crow!" she declared, presenting it with both hands.
Sojōbō crouched to take the paper bird, a rare soft smile on his face. "A crow? You've got a good eye, little one."
Ushiwakamaru puffed out her chest with pride. "I wanted to make something that reminded me of both of you!" She looked at them expectantly. "Do you like them?"
Tamamo exchanged a glance with Sojōbō, his expression just as amused as hers.
"I love it," Tamamo said sincerely, setting the fox on the edge of the porch where it could catch the light.
Sojōbō reached out to ruffle Ushiwakamaru's hair. "You've got some talent there, kid. Keep practicing, and maybe you'll be folding entire armies one day."
Ushiwakamaru laughed, the sound clear and bright.
The fire crackled warmly in the small hearth as Ushiwakamaru snuggled into a blanket on the floor, her eyes wide with anticipation. Sojōbō sat cross-legged nearby, a half-smile on his face as he began to recount one of his favorite tales.
"So," he began, his voice deep and rich, "there was once a crow who challenged the gods themselves. He wasn't the biggest or the strongest, but he was clever, and his pride was unmatched, so he decided to steal fire from the gods and give it too man..."
As Sojōbō spun his tale, complete with exaggerated gestures and sound effects, Ushiwakamaru hung on every word. Occasionally, Tamamo would glance up from the sewing she was pretending to focus on, rolling her eyes at the more absurd parts of the story.
"...And when he got caught the gods and they tied him to heavy rock so he could never fly again," Sojōbō continued, sweeping an invisible fan dramatically through the air, "but you can never chain a bird so he slipped free from the bindings and flew free!"
"Did he win?" Ushiwakamaru asked, her voice breathless.
"Well, no," Sojōbō admitted with a grin. "The gods always cheat. But he made them respect him, and that's what matters."
"Sounds like the gods were just embarrassed they got outsmarted by a bird," Tamamo muttered, not looking up from her stitching.
Sojōbō laughed, leaning back against the wall. "Maybe. But that's a story for another night."
"Tell me another!" Ushiwakamaru begged, pulling on his sleeve.
"Tomorrow," he said, tucking her blanket more snugly around her. "Even tengu kings need their rest."
The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the moon through the shutters. Ushiwakamaru yawned as Tamamo helped her settle into bed.
"Are you warm enough?" Tamamo asked, tucking the blanket securely around her.
Ushiwakamaru nodded sleepily, rubbing her eyes. "Mm-hmm. Will you stay until I fall asleep?"
Tamamo hesitated, but before she could answer, Sojōbō appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.
"Move over, Kitsune," he said teasingly. "Tucking in kids is obviously a tengu specialty."
Tamamo sighed but stepped back, watching as Sojōbō crouched by the bed and made a show of fluffing Ushiwakamaru's pillow.
"There. Perfect. Sleep tight, little one," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle.
"Goodnight, Uncle Crow," Ushiwakamaru murmured, her voice thick with drowsiness.
"Goodnight, Ushi," Tamamo added softly, turning to leave.
As they both started to exit, Ushiwakamaru's voice, barely above a whisper, stopped them.
"Goodnight, Mom... Dad..."
The room fell silent. Tamamo froze, her hand on the doorframe, while Sojōbō blinked in surprise. Slowly, the two of them turned to look at each other, their expressions a mix of shock, amusement, and something neither of them could quite identify.
"Well," Sojōbō said after a beat, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Guess that makes it official, doesn't it?"
Tamamo shot him a glare, her cheeks tinged pink. "Not. A. Word."
She stormed out, leaving Sojōbō to stifle his laughter as he whispered, "Sweet dreams, kid," before quietly following her out.