A Fox's Whisper

26: |几卂尺|

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

That night, I dreamed. It was a cold sort of dream, and I was standing nowhere in particular. The world around me appeared fuzzy and white, and I couldn't hear much. I smelled nothing. It was an empty void of paleness, unlike any dream I'd yet beheld. There was a reason for that...

I looked at my hands, and then down at my feet. I was dressed in what is called a shiromuku, a white silk kimono traditionally worn by brides. The fabric was heavy, and I couldn't even walk for the train of the skirt dragged so much on the ground. My hair was tied up intricately with a kanzashi, a hair stick that pins your hair in place. It poked painfully into my head.

"Over here, kitsune."

I spun around, my breath catching in my throat. Could it really be...? I wasn't safe even in my dreams from him. I lifted the skirt of the kimono and tried running, though I didn't know where. Where could I be safe when his voice was in my ear? But I might as well have been running in place, for I practically didn't move at all.

"Oh, would you stop that? It's futile, you know."

The voice was right beside me, and when I turned my head, I saw the vague outline of a man. I could not see his face, nor whether he was tall, or short.

"Why am I wearing this?" I demanded stupidly, for lack of anything else to say, for all coherent thoughts escaped me.

"It's pretty isn't it?" Dorobo snickered. "Though not fitting for a dirty little fox like you."
It seemed ridiculously funny to him that I was dressed up as if I were to be married. The thought would've made me laugh in real life, but there was nothing amusing about it here.

"Leave me alone," I choked.

"I just want to talk, kitsune," Dorobo said. "You've been so awfully busy with your weeping and heart to hearts with the samurai that frankly I'm quite hurt. You never seem to have time for me anymore..." He sighed airily like a lovesick young man, wounded that his one true love has dashed his heart into pieces, forsaking his company for that of another.

I tugged at the constricting collar of the dress. "This is a dream...it isn't real... I'm....this is just my own imag--"

"No, it's not," Dorobo sang. "It isn't technically a dream your mind invented. Rather I invaded your dream, but this is all very tiring to explain."

"You're in my dreams?!" I said in horror. I wasn't safe anywhere...I had to wake up. That was all. If I could just wake up...wake up, wake up, wake up...

"Yes, actually it's a technique the kitsune have...willful dream manifestation. But you were too stupid to even care to learn it."

My face burned in shame at the accusation. Please wake up...

"But all that's neither here nor there."

His fuzzy outline drifted closer to me and the smell of rotting meat filled my nostrils with a pungent odor that made my stomach roil.

"You're planning to come after me, yes? Kill me. Avenge your precious race. I've been following your whole journey, as you well know. It's a shame you haven't died yet. That's what I was aiming to do back on Tatarasuna...kill you...and then you fainted and the samurai saved your life. Oh, and then you fainted and the hainu failed to finish you off in the Furnace."