Steam curled above the hot spring, the scent of minerals thick in the air. Jin Sakai exhaled slowly, letting the heat seep into his aching muscles. He had earned this. After weeks of endless battle, liberating villages, cutting down Mongols, fending off bandits, and clashing with masterful ronin in duels that left his hands trembling long after the swords were sheathed. Yes, he deserved this moment of peace.
"Wish I had some sake," he muttered, letting his head tilt back against the smooth rock. "A bowl of miso… and some rest." A pause. He chuckled softly to himself. "Maybe a woman."
The words barely left his lips before he heard it, the gentle splash of water rippling against stone. His hand instinctively twitched toward the blade resting nearby, his warrior's instincts refusing to dull even in relaxation. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head.
A woman, a stunning one, had slipped into the water with him. Only a bath towel wrapped around her, clinging just enough to keep her decent, thankfully. But it was not just any woman. Her hair was a shade of pink so rich it rivaled the cherry blossoms, flowing down in elegant waves. Perched atop her head, two fox-like ears twitched slightly, crowned with a golden headpiece. Her violet eyes shimmered with mischief, and as she smiled, Jin swore he could feel the weight of some cosmic jest at his expense.
"Hello~" Her voice was like silk woven with amusement, the end of her greeting curling like a tail.
Jin sat up straighter, ignoring the way the water lapped against his chest. His muscles tensed, not out of fear, but because he had encountered enough strange things in his life to know when fate had decided to throw him another trial. His mind whirled. Kitsune. Fox spirits. The stories always warned of them.
Did they not eat men?
He glanced at her hands—delicate fingers, elegantly manicured. No claws. That was good. Her expression, however, held the same predatory amusement that Mongols had before they struck. Less good.
"You look tense, Lord Sakai." She tilted her head, her fox ears twitching. "Is this not a place to relax?"
Jin's eyes flickered to his sword. She followed his gaze and pouted. "Oh, come now. Do you truly think steel will help you here?"
Lightning crackled faintly in the air, a gentle warning. Purple sparks danced at her fingertips, illuminating her pale skin in the steam. Jin didn't flinch, but he exhaled through his nose, accepting that if she wished him harm, he would already be ashes.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice steady.
"Yae Miko," she purred, shifting closer, just enough for him to catch the faint scent of cherry blossoms. "Guuji of the Grand Narukami Shrine, but I doubt you ever heard of it. And you… well, you are a most fascinating man."
Jin kept his expression unreadable. "Fascinating?"
She chuckled. "I have watched you for some time. You have a habit of following foxes to the shrines. I wondered if you would ever notice."
Jin frowned. It was true; he had followed the foxes many times, honoring their shrines as he honored his own ancestors. But he had never once felt watched. Until now.
"Did I offend?" he asked cautiously.
She laughed, soft and melodic. "Quite the opposite. It is rare to see a mortal warrior so dedicated. It intrigued me."
Jin sighed, sinking back into the water. "I don't need another deity meddling in my affairs."
"Oh, I am not here to meddle." She leaned forward, elbows resting just above the water, her gaze playful yet piercing. "Merely to observe… and perhaps enjoy the company of a handsome, lonely samurai who so wistfully dreams of sake, miso, and a woman by his side."
Jin stared at her. "You heard that?"
Her grin widened. "I have excellent ears."
Jin closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. This was dangerous. Not in the way of battle, but in the way that led men to ruin. Women like Yuna and Masako had their own kinds of sharp edges—ones he understood. This woman, this fox, had an entirely different set of fangs, hidden behind honeyed words and an infuriatingly teasing tone.
Still, she had not harmed him. Yet.
He opened one eye. "You don't eat people, do you?"
Yae Miko gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. "Lord Sakai! What kind of creature do you take me for?"
"The kind that enjoys toying with mortals."
She smiled, unrepentant. "Guilty as charged."
He shook his head, massaging his temple. "This is ridiculous."
"Mmm, is it?" She kicked her legs slightly, creating small ripples. "Then tell me, Lord Sakai, when was the last time you simply enjoyed a moment?"
Jin hesitated. The steam curled around them, the warmth of the water lulling him into a rare sense of peace. Yae Miko's gaze was unreadable now, the mischief tempered by something softer, something knowing. As if she could see the weight he carried, the ghosts that haunted him.
"…It has been a long time," he admitted finally.
She nodded, satisfied. "Then let me grant you a gift."
Jin tensed slightly as she lifted a hand. But there was no lightning, no trick. Only the faint scent of sakura, and then something cool pressed against his forehead. A brief, gentle touch, her fingers, he realized belatedly. By the time he opened his eyes, she was already rising from the water.
"Leaving so soon?" he asked before he could stop himself.
She turned, tilting her head. "For now. But worry not, Lord Sakai. I am sure we shall meet again."
Jin watched as she stepped gracefully onto the stone, the steam swirling around her. Her towel clung dangerously low, and he forcibly tore his gaze away, clearing his throat.
She laughed, delighted. "I'll leave you a gift, since you've been such charming company."
With that, she disappeared into the mist, leaving behind only the scent of cherry blossoms and something resting on the stone beside him.
Jin reached out, picking up the small, elegantly wrapped parcel. He unwrapped it carefully.
Inside was a fine bottle of sake, still chilled. And a single sakura petal resting atop the note:
"For the lonely samurai who dreams of good food, good rest, and a woman at his side. – Yae Miko"
Jin sighed, rubbing his temple. "Yuna would have a fit."
He glanced at the mist where she had vanished, then down at the sake. A small, reluctant smile tugged at his lips.
"…Ridiculous."
And yet, he uncorked the bottle.