The way to the starting point

I put on my winter clothes and I drag the kitsune inside an open box to watch it tightly. It says says the shrine is north, so I go to the nearest subway station to shorten the path. Mysteriously, the streets start to look unfamiliar, until I have no idea of where I am.

After a long walk, I stop on front of a building.

"Another juku."

"It seems like one," nods the kitsune.

Something weird is happening. Why am I lost? This urban layout isn't making sense. I don't have my cellphone to use the navigation either, it disappeared midway. This is the fifth juku within a five-house radius that we've found in a row. No number of students could need this many juku—not that there are any schools around to begin with. Is this kitsune playing with me? Or is it something else?

"Kitsune, do you have an idea of what is happening?"

My head is completely dry, without any fresh ideas to try. At least, something this kitsune says could be refreshing.

"As if I knew."

Or it could be a waste of words and an insult to my time. Did she already forget what happened earlier? Maybe the box had made it too comfy.

Eventually, I find a local map on a building's outside wall.

I don't recognize any of this. Where am I?

"Look, there's the subway. It's nearby."

Suspicious and off—those words best describe the current circumstances.

Is this a trap? But even if it is one, I should continue. I waited so long for this opportunity. I can't risk the kitsune leaving the shrine.

I make my way to the subway station. Nothing. There is no one here, not even a sound.

Is this subway real? And, if it is real, why is no one here? Something dangerous might be abducting everyone here.

"Could we leave? I'm getting an itch, as if my body were warning me of the danger," protests the fox, becoming visibly uneasy. "Where even are we?"

"We're continuing. This is could be the kitsune challenging us."

"That would be terrible! I'm leaving! I'm going to die anyway."

The fox tries to escape, jumping outside of the box, but I catch it mid-air, grabbing it by the neck. After some resistance, it gives up and allows itself to be dragged along.

I check the clock. Midnight.

Did we really wander that long?

Then I hear the screech of the rails, announcing the last train of the night.

"Are we really going forward?" asks the naive fox.

"You guessed it! Congratulations."

I make a smile, not trying to imitate a sadistic smile this time, but instead embracing my half-smile, half-anxious expression, hoping to disturb the kitsune as much as I can, almost forgetting my own real nerves, which are increasing every second.

I enter the train. It is empty and unusually clean, as if it were brand new. I hesitate about whether I should sit or not, but ultimately I decide not to do so. Instead, I look for other passengers. But, as I walk farther to the door connecting the wagons, I start to hear something.

~ Rrrrrr ~

What is that noise?

~ Rrrrrr ~

Does it come from the floor?

~ Rrrrrr ~

The roof starts shaking as well, followed by everything else on the train. I look down. The kitsune is missing. Having lost its purpose, I throw the box.

Did it leave me?

The train shakes harder. I'm scared, not even reacting. Fortunately, within seconds, the train stops moving.

Maybe I should leave.

The windows become blurry, distorting its view.

No, I won't leave under any circumstance. I'll find what is behind all of this.

Leave. Just leave. I'm begging you.

A voice in my head? Again? Coward fox, what are you doing in my thoughts again?

You can't blame me! You went straight to an unknown place, and we ended up on a strange train. This was a trap from the beginning, painfully obvious, and even so, you fell for it like an idiot. You were going to kill us both, so I hid. Inside you, I'm safe. If you want to die, die alone!

Now, out of all times, I start to give importance to the kitsune's words.

You… You're right. I'm sorry.

And you should be!

If were in danger, I'm going to let us out of here. You have my word.

I should leave you to die here. I'd love to do so, but as long as I'm inside you, your pain is my pain. If you're going to at least try to solve this disaster you provoked, which I doubt you can do to begin with, I could lend you my abilities to increase your chances. I won't try on my own anyway.

Abilities? Can you do more than possess people?

Heh! Of course I can. Delight yourself with what you're going to hear, human! I possess the unbelievable, unique, excellent, and refined ability to expel a little fire near my nose, to which I'm resistant. Also, I can do so only if my tail is touching the ground. Isn't it an all-purpose ability?

…Is it a joke or is it sarcasm? Are you serious by chance?

Of course I'm not being completely serious! Well, it is true that's really all I can do. Good luck escaping a closed train, if that's what this really is, without knowing where we even are. I hope I'm useless.

The kitsune goes silent.

...

...

I'm done for.

The train starts to swing back and forth, indicating that the time to think is over, making me feel like I'm on top of a boat with legs, running over the sea. I manage to avoid falling despite my constant quivering, and I check all surrounding doors and windows, the latter being closed.

I should try to check the driver's wagon. Someone might be there.

I open door after door, fighting novice dizziness, as fast as I can. Each door makes me feel worse than the previous one, and every wagon is completely empty, as clean as the first one. I'm quickly approaching my limit as my urge to vomit grows stronger.

I should never board a boat. I wasn't made for the sea. I like stable ground to step on. I'm really missing it right now.

Isn't it too soon to spill all out?

I'm fine. I'll survive.

Vomiting was an absolute no—that would destroy my self-esteem in an instant. Everyone has a precious mark on how far they can fall.

With almost no strength in my grip and barely standing, I open one more door. Beneath the door I'm able to see a ghost performing some kind of ritual with a weasel in the center of the wagon. The tanuki panics with the scene.

This is terrible, that weasel is dead dangerous. We're going to die.