The following day, Stacy came and woke me up. To my surprise, when my head hit the pillow, I instantly fell asleep. I thought I would struggle to sleep with the amount of food I ate beforehand and that I have slept for a month already.
"Did you sleep well, Kitsuna?" Stacy asks.
"Yes, to my surprise, I slept like a log. I thought I would have nightmares or wouldn't even be able to sleep with the amount of food I ate."
"Well, you did eat enough food to fill three tables last night. I ask Rebeca to prepare lots of food again for breakfast. So, eat to your heart's content."
"I will do that. My stomach is already waking up with the smell of the food."
"You can already smell the food?" Stacy asked with a questionable look.
"Un." I nodded.
"That's nice." She smiled.
"I will say it is more a curse than a positive thing. If I concentrate, I can smell the lavender flowers outside that the gardener is watering at the moment. And don't you think he is too old? He is about 70 years old and continues to work for you. His back is going to give out one of these days." Stacy was stunned at what I said. Running towards the window, I saw the gardener holding a hosepipe in one hand while he was hunched over with his other hand on his back.
"Wow, I didn't know. I will talk to Rebeca about that."
"Don't just dismiss him. He is likely still working for a specific reason. Find out why, then work on that. He might have a big family he needs to take care of." After looking for a while, we started walking again.
"Kitsune, just a question? How are you so casual after five years of experiments?" I was stunned for a moment by what she asked.
"Huh!? Where did that come from?" I tried to play it off, but although Stacy may seem like an airhead, she is actually brilliant. I found that out last night. I might have tried to get some information about things, and she just said I should ask her straight instead of doing it the roundabout way. And my lying might be some of the worst there is.
"Your behavior." She didn't raise her voice, but her ears tilted forward, listening in that way that made dodging harder. "It's like you have never been tortured for five years. Yes, you have mental trauma, but the triggers are relatively minor compared to what you have experienced. It's like you have been through something like this before. "Have you experienced something similar in a past life?" Looking at her, I knew she was worried. I just wasn't ready to talk about it with her and didn't trust her enough.
"I don't want to talk about it. It is also in the past; there is no use talking about things that happened in another universe." I started walking faster towards the dining hall.
"I see. When you are ready, talk to me, okay? I will also need to train you how to lie." She chuckled at me.
"Sigh… well, shit. Well, I never tried to lie in my previous life. I just diverted the subject. But thanks. I will do that if I am ready." The last part was only a whisper; only she could hear it.
"You can call Mommy anytime, Hunny Bun." Stacy smiled at me.
"I am not calling you, Mom." I gave her a deadpan look.
"Tsk."
When we walked into the dining hall, I could see that the table was again stacked with food, and there was a lot of meat. My mouth started to water uncontrollably. "Thanks for the food!?" I shouted and started to dig in again without waiting for Stacy.
"We really need to work on your table manners, Kitsuna," Stacy said with an amused smile.
"I will try to improve next time," I said between bites.
Breakfast was the kind that makes your bones feel heavier in a satisfying way. I didn't rush, not exactly; I just didn't waste motion. Old habit: eat when you can. The stew steamed rich and savory, eggs perfumed the air with butter, and the meat crackled under my teeth with a crisp skin I kept pretending wasn't my favorite part. Stacy watched me like a delighted scientist who'd discovered a new species of fox-girl powered by calories.
After breakfast was over, Stacy and I were still at the table talking to each other.
"I can't believe you don't like bread. "Of all the things you ate, bread is the only thing that survived."
"Yeah, it just doesn't go for me. The rest of the food was excellent, though."
"I can see that. There is nothing left except bread on the table. Where do you even store all that food? We will need to hunt more for food if you are going to keep eating like this."
"I can go and help hunt if needed."
"You are not going to do that until you are fully healed, and I have trained you for at least a year."
"Fine. So, what will we be doing today? I am interested in how you are going to make me call your mother." I gave her a grin.
"Haha, we are going shopping. Shopping is the best way to make bonds." My face dropped at her statement. She was giving me a knowing smile. "Let us go."
Two hours later, Stacy and I were sitting in a carriage on our way to the city. For some reason, we live inside the dead forest or something like that. I asked why, and she answered me that it is the border between our kingdom and the federation. So, because we are the house of Marquis Draig, we need to stay close to the border, and they picked to stay inside the forest instead of the city. I'm not really concerned about that. The problem is that this forest is one of the most dangerous places in the world. That is why a border was made that is not easily crossed. There is only one way to cross the forest. So, it makes it difficult to invade our kingdom from the forest.
"What are we going to go shopping for?" I was hoping she would say something other than "clothes."
"Clothes—we don't really have stuff for you. We can't have you keep wearing those clothes you have on at the moment. Oh, let me guess, you don't like dresses." She smiled at me.
"Yes, hate them." Currently I was wearing jeans with a normal black t-shirt. They are a bit too big for me, though. Rebeca just gave me some clothes to choose from, and I picked the clothes closest to a guy's clothes. My arms were also bandaged close to hide the fact that I had a curse on them. Luckily, my curse mark started from my wrists and went up to my chest, so it was easily hidden behind the bandages.
"We will go to the shop. I mostly used to get that sort of clothes. Unfortunate for you, we will still need to get you a dress or two for formal events." I frowned at her because of what she said. At the moment, she was wearing a blue one-piece dress. "I know I am wearing a dress, but I do like one-piece dresses on my off day. That changes if I need to work. I get into the same clothes that you are wearing now. I still can't believe you almost fit in my clothes."
"Huh!? These are your clothes? I thought these were old clothes or something. I knew you were small, but not this small."
"Hey! I will let you know I am average in length. For my kind. "You are much taller than most people your age." She pointed at me.
"If you say so." I shrugged.
"You will see when we get into the city. Hmph." I laughed at her childlike behavior. I guess she has a thing about her body size.
We bumped along in companionable silence for a while. The Dead Forest pressed close on either side of the road, dark trunks like ribs, leaves whispering a language that was mostly threat and a little bit lullaby. Every once in a while the carriage jolted over a root, and Stacy's ears flicked with automatic balance, her tail making a lazy S in the air. My tail did the opposite: it remained relaxed, indicating that I was fine even when my nerves were not.
"So, how long before we are in the city?" I hadn't seen one in years. Just as I asked, we heard shouts coming from outside. "What's going on?"
"Don't you know we might be under attack?" Standing up, she opened the window to see what was going on. "Nope, we just arrived at the city."
"Airhead." Why are they so loud? All I can hear is people shouting at each other. Is there some shouting match going on?
"Don't know." Just when she was about to take another look outside, the carriage door opened, revealing a knight.
A sharp hinge squeal—too sudden, too close—popped something tight behind my eyes. Door exploding. Shards spinning. Hands on wrists. I locked my jaw and let the flicker pass. One beat. Two. Gone.
"What is going on?" Stacy turned and looked at the knight.
"My apologies, ma'am, but we just need to make certain who is coming into the city." He looked at Stacy.
"Why do you need to open the carriage, though? Isn't the house emblem on the carriage?" I asked, looking at him. When the knight looked at me. Our eyes met; he became instantly afraid of me. I could see him tremble. "Tch. And you call yourself a soldier. Being so afraid of a 10-year-old."
"Derik, what are you doing? Complete the inspection." Another knight called out to the one in front of us. I could hear him coming closer to the door to join the other knight. "Hey, are you okay? You are shaking."
"Captain… don't… come," Derik said with a shaky voice.
"What did you say?" The captain didn't hear Derik and walked even closer, standing next to him. He saw him staring at something inside the carriage. Following his gaze, our eyes met the same as the last knight. He started trembling. "Fuck this. I am out!?" He shouted while running away. The other knight joined him after that.
"Hahaha. I just can't. That's just too funny. Trained knights fled simply at the sight of you. Hahaha." Stacy could not hold herself in anymore and started rolling in laughter. After a while, the carriage started moving again.
"Why are they so afraid of me, though? Do I really look so scary that trained knights run away from me?" I looked at Stacy, who was still laughing.
"Your eyes have a passive skill that intimidates people. It's a passive skill, which means it won't appear on your skill list. She said, restraining herself from laughing again.
"How do I see my skill list even?" I questioned her and received a baffled face from her. "What? I have never been told these things." I shrugged.
"Right. Normally you need to go to the church to check your status, but you have a self-analysis. Just think or say 'status,' and then it will pop up."
'Status,' I thought. I saw a screen pop up in front of me.
Name: Kitsuna Draig (Shiro Adachi)
Age: 10
Race: Demon-Fox (9-tailed primordial demon fox)
Gender: Female
Level: 1
Class: Noble
HP: 620 / 620
MP: 2000 / 2000
Str: 70
Vit: 310
Def: 100
Int: 1000
End: 75
Agi: 140
Skills: Dimensional Storage, Fox Fire, Fox Lightning, Fox Ice, Self-Analysis, Super Regen
The panel wasn't just text; faint lines of red fire licked the corners, and a hair-thin crackle of static traced along the edges—my curses showing off, apparently. I let my eyes run down the numbers and took stock the only way I know how: bluntly.
HP 620. "Chunky," I muttered. "Dying and coming back gives you a thicker health bar. Noted."
MP 2000. It hummed under my skin like the air before a storm. If I breathed slowly enough, I could taste it—sharp, clean, cold. "So I'm a walking generator. Try not to blow up the kitchen."
Strength: 70; Agility: 140. I flexed my left hand, and a hairline spark flickered under the skin. Lightning wanted out. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Later."
Vitality 310/Defense 100. Vital organs wrapped in stubbornness. Armor, but not invulnerable. I filed it under useful, not cocky.
Intelligence 1000. That one I didn't comment on. It felt like sitting in a large, silent room with all the doors unlocked. A good kind of danger.
Endurance 75. Lower than I wanted. But with the lightning curse multiplying pain by ten, maybe the outcome was a mercy. I could practically feel what "training" would mean: controlled suffering. Fine. I've done worse.
I flicked down to Skills and read them one by one, letting quick reactions flick and die like sparks.
Dimensional Storage. A pocket I could open anywhere. "Finally, somewhere for snacks. And knives."
Fox Fire. My flames, tuned by the fire curse. The status note indicated that the learning curve was reduced. "Half the time to master. Twice the trouble I'll get into. Acceptable."
Fox Lightning. Fast and mean. My left forearm thrummed a low warning, the pain magnifier quietly reminding me of the bill. "I'll pay later."
Fox Ice. That one made me smile. Heat, speed, and control. Three levers: more ways out of cages.
Self-Analysis. "Hi." I wiggled the panel at Stacy like it could wave back.
Super Regen. The line pulsed, and I imagined a crude image of my body stitching itself back together. I didn't love it, but I loved what it meant: survive first, decide later.
"It's a solid sheet," I said finally, closing the panel with a pinch. A couple of choppy flashes tried to barge in—white ceiling light, buckles on wrists, 'count down from ten'—but I slammed the door on them and looked at Stacy instead. "Let me guess: you're going to tell me not to use half of it."
"You guessed right," Stacy said, though the corner of her mouth betrayed a smile. "And don't you dare push your lightning curse in the first week. I'll know if you do."
I gave her a bland look. "Sure you will."
She narrowed her eyes like she caught the lie and chose to let it live. "Tomorrow, light training. Walking the gardens. Stretching. Breathing. Maybe a little stance works. No pain tests. To gain power, you must earn it without damaging what we have just recovered.
"Look at you, pretending to care." My voice was dry; my tail betrayed me by flicking once, amused.
"I do care," she said, as simple as the act of a door opening. Her ears angled forward, soft. "Also, I know stubborn rocks. You'll try to sprint up a mountain your first day if I let you."
"That's not wrong," I admitted.
The carriage rolled forward again, and the city noise took over—boots on stone, wheels against cobble, our driver trading shouts with someone whose job was literally to shout. I let the status numbers sink into place like bricks in a wall: not the whole house, but enough to stand behind.
"Anything else I should know about… hidden bits?" I asked. "Passives that don't show? Titles? Curses behaving badly at parties?"
"Your intimidating stare is passive, like I said," Stacy replied. "And the curses will not reveal themselves in your status updates." The effects are real; the labels aren't. Keep that secret. As for parties—don't eat bones in public."
I clicked my tongue. "You heard about that."
"I watched it happen," she said gravely. "I am changed."
We both almost smiled. The carriage lurched to a halt, the inspection madness finally behind us. I caught my reflection in the window's faint sheen: black hair threaded with a red ember-glow, fox eyes that made trained men run, and a mouth that could bare new canines or a joke. I didn't look harmless. I didn't need to.
"After shopping," Stacy said, "nap. Then dinner. Then you can glare at the moon for an hour if it helps."
"I'll glare at you instead."
"Promises, promises."
We finished the entry formalities (or rather, the guards finished being terrified of my face), and the carriage rolled on. I kept my promise to myself by not adding more detail to the entrance scene in my head, which included gates and shouting as we passed. That was enough. The city could stay a blur until it chose to matter.