All warnings, multi-chapter relevant author's notes, etc. are in the first chapter.

o.o I never noticed how much irony there was in this fic until Eng 102. I will have to remember to burn something in my English teacher's honor. . Maybe that stuffed animal I got from a stalker...

Kudos to these people: Campanile, KiraiAnca, and nanshisummer.

I think I lightened up on the verbose wordplay. Enjoy.

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The dusk had long since grown old and tired, but while most of the demons were spending their evening in carefree delight of the triumph of a more or less successful heist, there was a small group of demons harassing the fox about the single death amongst their numbers that had taken place in the afternoon. They were crowded into his tent, an area masked from the elements by a simple tarp tied 'twixt two trees and staked into the ground at the corners. A length of cloth had been left loose to serve as the door to the tent, but behind the fox the lengths had been secured together, creating a wall similar to those to the left and right. It was unlikely that there would be a creature in the area able to sneak in on him, but he would rather decrease the risks of it happening, no matter how infinitesimal the odds. He knew very well that he wasn't immune to deceit or trickery, as the demon that had followed him certainly hadn't done so for the learning experience.

The surrounding clearing was one the fox had arranged, shifting the plant life a few feet away in every direction from the center, where the fire pit had been dug, and then creating little niches in the perimeter for tents to be tucked into. There was no certain exit or entrance to their hideaway when the fox didn't produce one, but none of the demons considered this a particular danger or disadvantage. The idea that the fox might betray and kill them all had crossed every mind on more than one occasion, but each assumed he would hear the others dying and would have time to flee. Only a select few had the brush with true intellect that told them that the entire group was surrounded by the fox's element and, if one would die at any particular moment, the rest would fall simultaneously.

A demon stepped boldly forward, held a fist out as if to brandish it, hesitated, withdrew the fist, and insisted, "He died before you, why did you do nothing to assist him?" The rest rumbled softly in agreement, shifting glances between each other and the fox sitting in front of them. Their leader was the only one sitting down, completely at ease, regardless of by how many men he was outnumbered. The tiny plant sitting in a terra cotta pot in front of him resonated a yellow light from its stamen, illuminating the tent and bringing light to the eyes of the demons around it. The rough, uneven ground stole the radiance from the very corners of the tent, but the most dramatic shadows were those thrown over the demon leaning against the tree that the tarp had been tied to for support outside the tent. His arms were folded across his chest and a vague smirk resided on his lips. This did not escape the fox's perception, but it did not seem particularly significant. There were demons that wound up at the scene of some incident or another just to absorb the drama involved, enjoying the energy coursing through the air; then, there were those that simply enjoyed the adverse feelings—anger, frustration, sorrow, impatience, confusion—and thrived on that. Whichever this demon happened to be, it was hardly the fox's concern what he derived pleasure from.

"It is not my place to ignore nature's laws," the fox replied simply. He coddled the plant in front of him, a bad habit left over from before his partner had...expired. He wanted to chew on his bottom lip for phrasing it in such a way, but if he thought of Kuronue as a dead person, rather than a passed time, depression would grip his chest and he would find himself unable to speak to his followers. Weakness in the demon realm resulted in death and, even worse, abandonment. The fox didn't think he could handle being alone while he was still coming to grips with his internal struggle. So, until he'd found ground around the ocean of agonized sorrow that he was learning to swim through, he would think of Kuronue as a concept rather than a person. "If one can overcome nature's call to the next life, I would help him in every endeavor. If this proves impossible, there isn't much I can do, is there?"

At this point, the fox's eyes met those in the group around him, focusing on each pair in turn and addressing each demon in this question, one he knew none of them would have a choice in: there was only one option available to one that didn't want to find himself lost in the forest one afternoon after a heist. "Would any of you be so weak that you couldn't help yourself if the necessity arose?" The fox wasn't the only one that would be abandoned for weakness. And each of them knew he wasn't immune to it. The fox had no particular attachment to any of them, this was known throughout the camp. He had made that fact quite clear in the very beginning, and duly reminded them at random intervals.

"He was weak and a fool," the fox continued, having not been interrupted in the moment of silence he'd left after his rhetorical question. His eyes returned to the plant before him, stroking a violet petal lovingly. "The only help there is for fools is from the gods, and I have never professed myself to be among their numbers."

"So, after all you've told us, you'd leave us to die if something happened?" a demon remarked disdainfully, misinterpreting what had been said. "If we were ill, you'd help. But if an emergency arose and there was little time, you'd flee and save yourself?"

The first word that had been spoken betrayed to the fox that this was a rebuttal; the tone alone had spoken volumes of dissatisfaction and impudence. It wasn't that the fox didn't allow for varied opinions, but he was strictly opposed to others putting words into his mouth and misinterpreting what he said without reason to think his true meaning was veiled. If there had been a chance to save the demon's life without compromising his own, he would have assisted in any way. But he would not die for the sake of a demon that would have simply died with him. That would have been a waste and a shame.

Like Kuronue's death. He would have died a wasted death like Kuronue, been ranked with him in the afterlife and never had to leave his side. He wouldn't have been alone anymore.

Part of him wished he'd come to this conclusion while the opportunity had been presented before him, but it hadn't crossed his mind to die in that castle. He wasn't of a suicidal mindset; suicide was cowardice, and he would not be remembered as a coward. His need to be with Kuronue couldn't be tainted with the shame of having taken his own life to do it. Even an honorable hara-kiri¹ would have seemed pathetic and desperate.

These thoughts distracted the fox from the seed that suddenly ruptured beneath the ground, throwing vines and branches bursting from the earth to encase the demon that had challenged his word. His golden eyes shifted upward as a cloud of dust wafted in his direction, alerting him to the action he'd set into motion upon the first word of this demon's rebuttal. He'd nearly forgotten about the seed in that short time. He blinked once as the branches lifted the demon from his feet and suspended him in the air, tightening their lethal grip around the insolent whelp.

Scratching lightly at the back of his neck and sweeping hair behind his shoulder, the fox ignored the horrified stares he was receiving for this action, but he took particular notice that a solitary figure that had been leaning against the tree in the back had parted from his support and had his right hand extended halfway toward the sword strapped to his waist. He waved a languid hand toward the crowd and the captured demon heaved a breath of air into his lungs, able to breathe with the lax in the vines.

"Might I remind you who is in charge here?" the fox asked, his voice dripping acid. His eyes didn't hold the same ferocity, so he kept them directed to his plant. His heart wasn't in his threats this evening, but clever consideration of his words and a dark tone would be more than sufficient to fool most of the demons he had surrounded himself with. "Yes, I could do nothing for him. If I can do nothing, I will not attempt. That would be a waste of time and life. If there had been anything more than to yell at him to flee, I would have done whatever was necessary. But I will not die in a futile attempt to save another. I have no reason to do so. Your lives are in your own hands. If you disagree with my methods, you are free to leave at any time." Another timely reminder that he didn't care about any of them. He'd been overdue for one, he was certain. He was lax in several unnecessary, but highly recommended matters. His heart was in heists in general as much as it was in threats this evening.

He was bored.

Snapping his fingers unnecessarily, the fox released the demon from his plant's deadly grasp, listened to the thud he made against the ground, and gave a wry frown to the plant he coddled. If he'd been in a better mood, he would have smirked at the disgraced demon, but instead he simply sighed his frustration. "You all exasperate me. Your lives are not in my hands. I am not here to ensure you live healthy, productive lives. I am here to teach you matters which you would otherwise continue to learn the wrong methods for. And I will most certainly not tolerate one paranoid idiot to taint the entire group with a fallacy about how I condemned a demon that couldn't protect himself." For this point, his heart found its way into his mind's belief. His eyes lifted to the demon clutching his throat in front of him, narrowed with malice and dark from indiscriminate ire. "Continue to accuse me of killing a member of this group, convince one more person that I allowed him to die without sufficient reason, and you will find your fate to be similarly unfortunate. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

The demon nodded slowly at first, then with more vigor. He stood, bowed hastily, then pushed through the crowd standing behind him to escape the tent. The muffled sounds of him fleeing into the forest echoed in all ears. The fox had serious doubts that he would return. The rest had a little more common sense, or at the very least intended to stay until they found themselves to be the central target of the fox's wrath. When the first of them bowed to excuse himself, the rest followed suit. But no one moved to exit, all aware that no one was dismissed until the fox gave him leave.

The swordsman in the back was leaning against the tree again, now more visible with the rest bowing before the fox. His arms were folded across his chest, his biceps slightly concealed by his curtain of black hair. He looked familiar. Was this the other bold one that had dared inspect the target with the fox? He had the same sharp features and slim build. He blinked at the demon once, came to realize that the anger had left his eyes and was replaced either by boredom or full-fledged lethargy, and nonchalantly shifted his eyes back to his plant. "I'm weary of you all," the fox spoke softly, the indication that they should all leave.

With his forefinger and thumb, the fox rubbed at his eyes, coming to understand just how tired he felt this night. The events of the day played no part in his exhaustion, and even if they had, the percentage would be infinitesimal. Emotional and mental distress had been draining his energy whenever it was given the opportunity, and this afternoon had been horrible because of it. The pendant, obtaining it and subsequently wearing it, only served as a stronger reminder of Kuronue than his own dilapidating sorrow. He opened his eyes, intending to remove it and cast it away, but the fox found he wasn't yet alone.

The swordsman had detached himself from the tree, but hadn't moved otherwise. This was likely why the fox hadn't noticed him, and his static form had escaped the other's fine-tuned awareness. He gave a disconsolate frown, too tired to contend with a demon that either wouldn't follow orders or didn't have the sense to understand them when they weren't in literal context, and ordered him, "Get out."

"If I may, sir, I would like to state an opinion you might be interested in knowing."

Long since too intolerant of disobedience to consider paying attention to this pathetic grasp for attention, the fox replied mordantly, "My, I seem to have a follower who is either deaf or witless. Perhaps both." He placed more emphasis on the last statement, his intention entirely and honestly to prod the demon's ego with a sharp claw, instigate him, coerce him to give the fox a reason to expel him forcefully. Possibly in several pieces.

The swordsman continued as if the fox hadn't just insulted him, a wise move for someone that was being defiant in the face of a leader that obviously wasn't in the best of moods. "He wished you dead." The fox arched an eyebrow, half interested, but hesitant to trust this demon at his word. There were things he did that gave him away, the way his eyes appeared and the way his lips twinged. He didn't reply, allowing this demon to continue if he had more information. "His original intention was to prove himself better, stronger, to disgrace you and throw you from your seat of power. He wanted control of the group. But this situation provided a different opportunity. I'm certain he wished for you to help him and die as a result. He was an opportunistic creature. He deserved what happened to him. Fate seems to have plans for you, sir."

The fox almost laughed at that, but he swiftly strangled the urge and glared instead. "How would he have assumed that I would sacrifice myself for him? I gave no indication to give him cause to believe this." He would have snarled from his growing aggravation if it wouldn't have been unbecoming. Instead, he gave a soft snort. "How foolish. Not only of him, but of you. Why pretend to concern yourself with me?"

This comment seemed to take him aback for a second, but he composed himself after a second or two of thought. "Anyone in the camp would tell you that he was spreading rumors about you, sir," he stated, his voice soft, as if he didn't want to be overheard. "Rumors about you having allowed a partner in theft to die." The fox succumbed to his previous urge to bite down on the inside of his lip, but he did so discreetly. He doubted the other saw this action, but regardless he released his lip quickly. "He assured everyone that he was feigning his weaknesses, and that you were feigning all of your strength. He preached that you couldn't kill us all, and you could hardly kill even one of us. He insisted that you could not protect us; this is why they are uneasy. At the first possible moment, he would have betrayed you."

The fox observed the other for a long moment. His breathing was slightly elevated, the blood throbbing through his carotid pulsating rapidly, his fists clenched around the perspiration that was beginning to bead on his palms, his eyes wavering almost imperceptibly between the fox's eyes and forehead. All of these signs were invisible to most, but the fox had memorized and studied the various symptoms of a liar. There was no fooling him while these signs were still present, and only a skillful few were able to mask them all, on top of the ones that this demon had managed—intentionally or otherwise—to suppress.

"And you go by what name?" There were many demons that refused the names that parents or guardians had bestowed upon them. It was better to ask which name they best responded to, in order to avoid any confusion or discontent.

"Yomi," he responded with a grin. The fox resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the demon's confidence.

"Well, Yomi," he began, his tone evincing that the conversation was nearly at its end. The grin on Yomi's face hastily disappeared. "You are certainly a good liar, although I've seen those leagues above you in that particular ability." His face didn't betray what he was feeling at this revelation, but his eyes told volumes of surprise and agitation. "But you cannot gain my trust through whatever lies you might tell about people that cannot defend themselves. You can, although you are far from it at this point, earn my reciprocated trust through your own trust and devotion. Now, leave my presence. I will not tell you again, and refusing my order this time will become detrimental to your health."

A fly buzzed quietly through the tent and swirled confused through the air until it reached the plant sitting in front of the fox. The plant's petals closed around the insect and began devouring it, cutting the fox and Yomi off from their light source for the short moment that it took for the insect to dissolve. The swordsman was hesitating, finally shamed and insulted, but he gritted his teeth, begrudgingly bowed to the fox and exited the tent. The malignant thoughts coursing through his mind were almost audible, as potently as his contempt wafted through the air.

It was only after Yomi had departed that the fox noticed the noises emanating from the clearing his tent was inconveniently located beside. He'd debated for a short while when he'd established this group whether or not he should remove himself from the whole, and had inevitably decided it would be better if he didn't. Now he was regretting this decision. The ruckus of the drunken demons loitering outside was becoming oppressive, filled to bursting with laughter that the fox couldn't quite comprehend. He didn't understand happiness, he didn't understand content. All he knew was distractions and mourning. And, reminded of Kuronue by so many small things, he couldn't find himself able to be distracted with their intoxicated festivities.

The sudden, muffled crumble of firewood snapping and resettling was interrupted by the shriek of the demon that had fallen in the campfire. His inflamed form bore through the shadows by casting light on the fox's tent, highlighting his shape running frantically around the clearing before he dropped to the ground and began rolling around to extinguish the fire. He wouldn't drink again this night, already sobered from pain and reluctant to tempt fate a second time in a single evening. And his humiliation at being laughed at by the demons still under alcohol's veil was no consolation. Once bitten, twice shy. But not shy enough. He would only dabble with drink for a few weeks, before immersing himself completely. No one would learn from his experience.

In niches of flattened grass close enough to the clearing to see the campfire and find one's way back, a handful of demons enjoyed the company of the women stolen from the township. The females shrieked when they could, causing a ruckus even more grating on the fox's nerves than the demons he had to endure every day. They would be killed after they proved to be of no further use. The fox could have ordered one be saved for his personal use, but he'd only done so thrice in the months that he'd been tutoring these thieves. He would treat these females well, if they cooperated, and release them after a few days, but only one had actually done so; the other two had met their ends at the mercy of a rose.

As the fox contended with his own headache, Yomi nursed a dull pain that was growing in his forebrain. He dropped to the ground in his tent, which he had previously shared with a demon that had proven just as treacherous as himself. If the idiot hadn't taken his own initiative and followed the fox without telling Yomi, he might be alive now. Instead, he'd taken it upon himself to further his own image to the fox and leave an ally to wallow amongst thieves that would advance no farther than the drunken enjoyment they were drowning in. His fists clenched in aggravation, but he made no action to alleviate his anger. He knew the value of lying in wait, and he knew that losing his temper now would achieve him nothing.

But he hadn't anticipated that the rumors of the fox would prove true. It was more than obvious that the fox was an excellent thief, it was undeniable. Those rumors he had acknowledged long ago. The tales of a prudent, observant, wise fox thief were the ones that he had hoped were false or, at the very least, an exaggeration.

Closing his eyes slowly and heaving a long sigh, Yomi focused on the positives. He hadn't been banned from the camp, nor had he been renounced. He was definitely a long way from earning the fox's trust and gaining the reputation he craved, but it wasn't impossible. Eventually, he could find a weakness or the fox might falter, and he could take his place. Either through building himself up to the fox's level or through becoming renown as the man that killed the fox thief, Yomi would obtain a status that others would be hard-pressed to match, and the authority it demanded. He would be known throughout the demon realm, just like the fox thief.

Eyes slipping back open, Yomi took in the silhouettes of demons dancing to their own mental music, singing limericks and stealing bottles from one another until someone decided it needed to stop and beat someone else over the head with an empty bottle he had the misfortune of taking. Howls of laughter rang through the air as a woman shrieked in the proximity. The fire flickered in and out of sight as drunken demons circled it. This is what Yomi had brought himself into to gain his reputation? Mingling with apparitions that were better suited to the grave than to thievery? The shrubbery beside Yomi's tent rustled as a pair left the circle to entertain themselves with each other, and Yomi grimaced to think he might end up overhearing their sport.

A few meters away, the fox was wondering a similar question aloud. "This is what I receive? This is what I gain for forfeiting my time and patience to avoid being alone?" It made him even more exhausted. He longed for sleep, a reprieve from knowing that he was inevitably alone, no matter the dozens of apparitions surrounding him. Inevitably, none could provide him with the sense of companionship that would drive away his loneliness. Sleep was his only escape.

A gentle stroke with a single finger closed the petals of his glowing flower, but it didn't dampen the light bleeding through the tarp between him and the fire. He eased to the ground, placed one arm below his head as a makeshift pillow and covered his eyes with the other. That did nothing for the oppressive sounds assaulting his ears. He removed his pillow and covered his ears instead, but his keen aural senses found the individual peels of laughter and crackles from the fire. He would never distract himself enough to even chase sleep, much less capture it.

Rising defeated from the ground, the fox padded to the entrance of his tent, intending to put an end to all of the roughhousing. Before he managed to get to the other side of his dwelling, the swift sound of a sword slicing through the air resonated in the fox's ears. He emerged from his tent in time to watch the body hit the earth, then flicked his eyes upward to see Yomi holding the sword that had downed the demon. In the next instant two things happened: first, all mouths stopped moving and sound ceased to emerge from therein; second, all eyes shifted to the apparition murderer in front of them. No one took notice that the fox had emerged from his tent, with the sole exception of Yomi, who revelled at having the attention of the fox's group in his very presence. The fox narrowed his eyes at the satisfaction gleaming in the other's.

A muffled outcry from a woman nearby ruptured the silence, nudging Yomi to speak. "Cap your bottles, suffocate that fire, and go to sleep!" he ordered, taking the fox's right from him. "This is no time to be up celebrating. You all act as if there's nothing to do tomorrow." Before the fox could reprimand him for taking charge, he vanished into his tent with his blade still dripping blood. He smirked to himself, wondering if maybe there was some weakness to the fox, one that had held his tongue for him.

After Yomi had disappeared, a demon got up his nerve, assisted by the alcohol mingling in his veins, and hollered, "What right have you to give us orders?"

"Strange," the fox spoke, calling the attentions of all despite his low volume. Inside his tent, Yomi stiffened, automatically giving his ears to the fox, then growled softly to himself for submitting. He couldn't have demanded the attention of the others with such a gentle voice, especially without having slain that demon beforehand. He turned around, but refused to give the fox the satisfaction of seeing him emerge from his tent for his sake.

"Strange how you claim this after his weapon has been sheathed." Yomi gripped the hilt of his sword and gritted his teeth. So his sword was of no threat once he wasn't within view? Had his retreat implied cowardice rather than intrepidity? He cursed silently. He sat down and began cleaning his blade on the sash of his late partner's alternate robe. The fox's words resounded in his ears, kindling his anger. "I would suggest you follow his advice. Someone retrieve the ones in the surrounding area." One or two rushed off to follow this order, anxious to get away from his deceptively calm demeanor; there was something about the fox's tranquility that set off the fight or flight instinct. "As for the rest of you, save your celebrations for a night more deserving. Today's endeavors were worth little praise, and your mirth is disgraceful." The degradation left the whole of the group discouraged, and Yomi briefly wondered if everyone else was questioning the point in being here if the fox would invite them to nothing but useless heists. This thought was abolished when the speech was concluded with, "You shall know genuine triumph in coming months. Have no doubt about that."

With that, the fox returned to his tent, relieved as the demons in the clearing prepared for sleep, and eventually the only sounds to be heard were those of deep, heavy breathing and the crickets searching for their mates.

With this silence, the fox examined the pendant he had stolen earlier in the day. It glistened and shone, reflected his visage, felt the same as Kuronue's had. But what it held was cool and solitary solemnity, nothing like the fiery passion that Kuronue's pendant had instilled in him. This pendant only made him feel more lonely and removed than he had before.

Closing his eyes and snapping the chain as he ripped the pendant from around his neck, the fox reached through the braided twine that closed the back of his tent and tossed the pendant out. It landed amongst the bushes surrounding the clearing, where it would remain until the fox, the carnivorous plants now surrounding their camp, and his group uprooted themselves and moved, and perhaps even longer, depending on when a demon wandered through this area and discovered it. It would never again be as cared for as it had while in the protection of the township it had been stolen from, as abandoned and desolate as the fox now felt.

Perhaps it was time for some desperate measures.

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¹ Hara-kiri, also known as seppuku, is a form of suicide done to preserve one's honor. Suicide is dishonorable, but so is being captured by the enemy, so samurai would commit the horribly painful hara-kiri to show they were brave enough to endure an agonizing death to avoid falling into the enemy's hands. If you want to know more, look up either term in an encyclopedia.

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I haven't been reading anything, so this shouldn't have been quite as classically influenced as the first chapter.

Hope you liked it.

12:00 A.M. Eastern Daylight Time. U.S. Saturday, 12 March 2008.
(Going to bed soon, after I swallow more pills to make my cold go away.)

Auf Wiedersehen.

Isa.
Chiisai Mu.