When closure is denied

Atsun thinks I just started that morning like this. No story about Reiji. No truth about the Yokai…

My hands came up steady and wrapped my fingers around the metal at my throat.

"What are you doing?" Kairi asked without moving from his seat.

The wind rattled violently outside, slamming against the cottage walls like something alive trying to claw its way in. A snowstorm.

Good.

It meant he couldn't afford to lose control—to shatter the cottage and expose me to the cold.

Kairi was willing to kill. I knew that. But only the Munakata and their guards. Only those he folded into his vengeance. Even back in the city, when he threatened the hostages, it had been just that—a threat, a bluff meant to buy space.

He didn't hurt innocents.

So I had to act while he was still deciding which of them I was.

Planting myself, I drew magic inward, concentrating it where my palms hovered.

Kairi's brow furrowed, but his tone didn't change. "Stop it."

I didn't obey, so he flicked a blow of wind to my forehead, cancelling my spell.

Another try—back from the beginning.

"Avery, are you really going to play this game?"

My only response was a smirk. This time he got up and went to flick my head manually.

That's when I grabbed his arm and threw him over my shoulder.

But rather than collapse on the ground, his feet landed first. He turned immediately, grabbing my arms.

"Don't force me to do these maneuvers. My wounds hurt like hell."

Magic gathered around my hands again. He shifted his hold, locking both of my arms in a way that left me without strength—physical or magical.

"Stop while I'm still being lenient. Don't force me to break them."

I smirked. "Cute bluff."

His grip tightened. Pain flared—then stopped short.

I didn't know for sure he wouldn't break my arms.

But I knew he'd hesitate.

Struggling, I twisted my arms painfully. Kairi let go and we separated.

He exhaled, then looked at me with a resigned grin, arms open. Inviting.

Distance vanished as I surged forward. I started a kick, pulled it back, switched feet mid-motion. The strike landed soft against his palm—blocked.

In a blink, his face filled my vision. I jumped back instinctively, widening the distance again.

"Here's the thing," he said. "As impressive as your determination is, what you're trying right now isn't just a hard path. It's an impossible one." He gestured at me, inviting another attack.

After a nod, I darted.

Not straight in—side to side, flowing across the room, over the table, around the armchair, even using the wall for a hop. Not faster than his eyes—that was impossible—but harder to follow.

Closing the distance, I kicked like it was a feint.

But it wasn't.

It landed. Brushed clean against his cheek.

Weak—he'd tilted his head on impact.

A blink later, the world flipped upside down, and the wooden floor smacked me in the face.

"You adapt quickly. You're using what you have efficiently. But this isn't something you can optimize your way through. Even injured, I'm still beyond the peak of your current reach."

He shrugged and opened his arms again. "You're free to keep trying, of course. Until you exhaust every option. Until your only choice is to accept that things won't go your way."

Still on the ground, I swept at his feet. It made him move—just a swift, easy backstep.

I rose with a spin, grabbed the nearest chair, and hurled it. He caught it midair and set it down smoothly—but while he did, I lunged at him. He pivoted aside and locked me from behind again.

Wrestling with everything I had, energy I couldn't spare burned away. He released without warning, and I stumbled forward, undone by my own momentum.

"Go on, get up. Keep trying to break a wall with your bare fist."

He was right.

I couldn't win.

Kairi might as well have been invincible.

But…

That wasn't the point anymore.

This wasn't about overcoming him.

It was about refusing the easy closure he offered. About staying committed to the choices I made.

Still on my knees, hands braced against the floor, I clenched my fists.

Magic gathered again. For what purpose, I didn't know.

A light slap landed on my nape.

I started again.

"Suit yourself," he said, tapping my neck once more, disrupting my flow.

I didn't let it dissolve this time. I gathered back what I could. The next disruption rattled it—but didn't disperse it.

Kairi muttered a faint, startled "What?"

Enough to reinforce my focus.

He grabbed me, shook me—ripples across a lake—but none of them made the water spill.

His fingers dug into my shoulders, accomplishing nothing.

The magic flowed from my palms, through my arms and into the rest of my body.

His voice rose.

He lifted his hand, threatening a strike—one that would end this, knock me out, force closure.

My eyes locked onto his. I refused this to be the end.

The magic reacted. Warped. Changed.

Vertigo struck—and apparently hit him too. He let go and stumbled, fighting for balance.

Space itself seemed to distort—or maybe it was illusion. Kairi fell backward.

My magic intensified, evolving from static into a violent, electrifying vibration. Painful, but not malign.

I felt it everywhere—stronger in certain places. My ears burned, as if being torn apart. So did my nose. My nails felt like they were being pulled free. A cracking, rippling sensation gathered at my lower back, followed by the sound of tearing cloth.

I didn't need a mirror to know what had happened.

My ears had lengthened, sharpened—taller, fluffier. My face pushed forward just slightly, into the hint of a snout, whiskers trembling, though my jaw and teeth still felt human. Fur brushed against fabric with every breath I took. My nails pressed into the wood, sharp.

Resting on the floor behind me was a tail—singular, red, tipped in white.

Not a tailless Kuuko.

A regular Kitsune?

I could almost hear Blake: "It is much too soon for thee to take on this one's true form—and yada yada."

My head turned back forward—and I nearly reeled as an entirely new world flooded in.

Sound fractured into layers: wind scraping wood, snow hissing, Kairi's breath, my own heart racing fox-fast. Smell followed, deep and invasive: smoke in the beams, cold metal at my throat, blood soaked into his bandages. My whiskers read the air, mapping distance and motion in ways I had no words to describe. Even the floor answered my touch, vibrations translating cleanly into my bones.

It wasn't strength.

It was awareness.

Sudden and overwhelming—like my body had learned a language my mind couldn't yet speak.

"Heh."

His soft cackle made me look back at Kairi.

"Ha ha ha ha! Incredible. Marvelous. I can't believe you actually achieved a transformation right here, right now, so soon in your training." He laughed like he'd just heard the punchline of a lifetime.

Then, still smiling, he stood. Amused—but confident. "This doesn't change a single thing. And I'll prove it."

My fur bristled. Magic—dense and reverberating, far stronger than what had surrounded me. It poured out of Kairi, coating him.

His skin reddened. Muscles swelled but stayed lean. His nose elongated and black wings burst from his back, each longer than his shoulders were wide.

His heart pounded with a tremor, heavy and threatening.

Even the air vibrated around him.

Every one of my new senses screamed the same truth.

"This isn't something you can defeat."

I ignored them anyway and stood up.

Gathering my magic again, it responded instantly—no painstaking visualization required. It moved as if it already knew what I wanted and simply carried it out.

Disruption, uncertainty, anything that might prevent Kairi from ending this.

White fog bloomed outward, blank and lightless, swallowing the room in an instant. I couldn't see Kairi anymore.

But I knew exactly where he was—felt him, as if sight was optional.

At the same time, the chain around my neck slid loose—phasing through my skin, like we no longer belonged to the same world. When it struck the ground, it vanished. Then everything else followed—floor, walls, furniture…

Kairi and I stood alone in an empty, endless space.

He summoned wind to disperse the fog.

It didn't react.

I didn't want it to.

And so I dashed forward, silent, unseen. I kicked where his hip would be.

He emerged into view just as my strike landed—on his palm.

How fast can he react?

His hand closed around my foot. The other grabbed my shoulder—but the fabric melted like liquid, slipping from his grip as I retreated into the fog. My clothes reformed while I moved, already circling him.

My heart hammered, absurdly fast.

Then the rhythm split.

A second figure took shape beside me—cute as me, yet pale white. A second me. Creating her stole half my breath, but she was real. Present. Ready.

I moved wide, taking the opposing angle. She advanced first.

Kairi caught her the instant she entered range—before she could even strike. But he only realized I was behind when my hands were already around his shoulders, a chain manifesting to cinch tight.

It was working.

The chain pressed into his throat, restricting his movements. I started extending it—arms, legs—

He kicked my double away.

Her ribs—if she had any—definitely broke.

And I felt it as if they were mine.

She stumbled back, releasing him. My grip weakened. Kairi seized the chain and tore it apart with brute force.

I had to retreat.

The double lunged, buying me a heartbeat. I vanished into the mist just as Kairi snapped her neck.

The shock ripped through me. Strength drained from my body, and I collapsed, unsure whether I was broken or not.

My breathing was ragged. My limbs felt like stone. Still, I forced myself to move.

Focus returned just in time for a red blur to cross my vision—then an overwhelming force slammed me back down.

Kairi pinned me. Completely.

Only then did I realize how he'd found me.

The fog was gone.

I struggled, tried to slip even a fraction free—but his hold was absolute. My arms burned, then went numb. Air fled my lungs, and every attempt to draw it back became harder.

My senses dulled. The sharpness faded. Even my fox traits wavered, threatening to collapse entirely.

I understood then: even if he let go, I wouldn't be getting up.

A quiet snicker sounded behind me.

The pressure lifted.

He crouched in front of me. "I never underestimated you. Not one bit. And you still surpassed every expectation I had."

I ordered my body to rise. All I managed was to tilt my head enough to look at him.

He smiled—almost proud.

"You're barely at the beginning of your training and you've already reached this far. Imagine what you could do if you invested this power in something realistic."

I didn't answer.

A crack split the white space.

Then another.

Black fractures crawled outward, spreading across nothingness. The place was crumbling.

Everything dulled further. I wasn't just losing my heightened senses—I was losing sensation itself. Even my own breathing faded from sound.

My eyelids dropped. Consciousness slipped.

I refused.

The cracks multiplied. I could barely see them now. The only thing my vision held onto was Kairi.

And then I saw it.

Something else clung to him. Red. Indistinct.

It felt… powerful. Not in the way a typhoon or an explosion is, but more like… gravity itself—quiet, inescapable, deciding where everything else should be.

Like a manifestation of Kairi's true strength—not his terrifying magic, but the shape it took once he committed to using it.

A result of his overwhelming will.

A strong instrument used by an even stronger user.

It reminded me of…

Tomoe's curse.

Why did I see it now? Because everything else had gone quiet? Or because I was in a similar state as back then?

The thought that I could interfere with it—that I should—made my stomach twist.

Kairi leaned closer, saying something I couldn't fully hear. The red thing leaned with him.

Close enough, in fact, that if I could move…

I asked the last scraps of magic in my body to gather in my arm. I couldn't move it myself—so the magic did, lifting it like a guiding hand.

Kairi tilted his head, said something I couldn't hear, then extended his palm as if inviting me to take it.

It hurt like he'd just stabbed me in the eyes.

Even now, he was still offering me a place beside him. There was no mask, just a heartfelt wish for collaboration.

A wish I needed to shatter.

Instead of taking his hand, my arm veered, reaching for the red figure beside him.

When I touched it, it recoiled—not in anger, but in something closer to alarm. Like it wasn't meant to be touched. The contact sent a shiver through my numb hand. I nearly blacked out.

For a suspended instant, I questioned if I should really do this—whatever this was. I didn't know what would happen. It might seriously hurt him. I only knew, vaguely, that it could change him, and that the change might be irreversible.

I wasn't sure which option was the right one.

But I was certain that if I let go now, it would mean giving up on my chosen path.

I reached further, fingers grasping around the thing, and pulled as my hand came down.

Like ripping cloth, the color between Kairi and the figure—the color that connected them—was simply gone.

The red phantom blurred, thinned, unraveled—until it disappeared completely.

Then the fractured space shattered.

And everything went black.