Taiyo woke up with an immense migraine, already fearing the light when his eyes were still closed. The voices—all of them, it seemed like, except Tsujihara Seiko’s—buzzed around in the back of his mind.

Someone closed the curtains and shuffled. With less light, he slowly opened his eyes.

He startled when he saw the other person—a kitsune, to be more specific, with fox ears and a sweeping tail. Her hair faded from red to orange as it went from her roots to her shoulder, completely straight. She didn’t react with anything more than a flick of her tail.

“You’re awake now,” she noted.

“Who..?” Taiyo coughed as he sat up. He hasn’t really used his voice in a while. “Who are you?”

“I would prefer to ask you, first,” the kitsune replied. She sat down on a chair in the corner, on the other side of the room from him. He couldn’t blame her. “Another kitsune found you floating on the river—you’re lucky she noticed, or you would be dead. Assuming death isn’t what you were after.”

“N-no, I…just wanted to get out.”

“Out of Kuro, or out of Gin?”

“...Gin.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say, but there’s no place in Kuro for you,” the kitsune said simply. She looked back at the closed curtain and frowned. “Whatever made you leave Gin, you’re better off trudging through it.”

She’s right, the voices murmured. You can’t escape us forever.

Taiyo shook his head and remained silent. The voices never talked about Kuro—only Gin, its cursed people, how they wanted to kill his family. He thought they might be safer if he stayed here.

The kitsune didn’t press for details, turning over to the dresser to her left and reaching over to get a piece of paper and writing supplies.

“What is your name? I can’t send you back unless I know who you belong to.”

“I…” He tried to come up with an excuse, but his mind refused to give a clear answer. He whispered out a lie instead. “I don’t have any family, and I don’t want to go back.”

“Gin is rather kind to orphans,” the kitsune pointed out, giving him a quizzical look. “I’ll take you back to the border if—”

“No.”

Taiyo flinched at his own sharpness, and it caught the kitsune off guard. Her ears flicked up, then down again.

“You want to stay here, then?” the kitsune asked. “Do you even know where ‘here’ is?”

“W-well, no, but…”

Anywhere would be better than somewhere that the voices had more control. He’d take a migraine and quiet shows of annoyance over murderous thoughts he couldn’t shake off.

The kitsune opened her mouth to say something else, but the door burst open. Taiyo shrank back from the sound alone; the kitsune stood up and brushed herself off while Taiyo kept his eyes shut to minimize the headache.

“Knock,” the kitsune said tersely. “I thought Nari taught you manners.”

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Nari… A certain voice came up in response, but he couldn’t understand what they said.

“I didn’t know I had to knock to see a murderer.”

Murderer? Did he mean the kitsune, or Taiyo? He choked either way, some faint memory coming up and fading again.

“It’s polite,” the kitsune argued. “Now explain why you’re here before I lose my patience.”

“So rude! I only wanted to check in on the little bastard that killed half of the raiding party into Gin. I need to know if he’s worth keeping around or not.”

Taiyo slowly opened his eyes so he could identify the stranger. He squeaked and shuffled back when he saw the man's black hair, neatly cut short.

Turns out ‘here’ is Kuro’s castle, or somewhere close to it. Great. They were going to kill him.

…That didn’t scare him as much as it should. He’d accept it if he meant he didn’t hurt anyone.

The king laughed while the kitsune—the advisor, maybe?—quietly growled at him. He shrugged off her reaction, merely coming closer and bending down to cup Taiyo’s chin. He tried not to jerk away, despite his better senses desperately wishing he actually knew anything Sorai taught him without relying on the voices.

“He certainly looks human,” the king noted dully.

“W-why wouldn’t I be?”

“You slit three throats in one swing,” he hissed. “That takes strength and dedication that it’s taken generations to achieve in Kuro’s bloodline.”

The king patted his head, ruffled through his hair, then pulled away with a scowl, all while memories slowly bubbled up.

“...But you’re just a damn north and east mix. A vicious one, at that.”

‘Vicious.’ Finally, a proper description…

With the voice’s comment, Taiyo remembered just enough to catch his breath; the kitsune that found him running off as he went into a group of Kuro soldiers, how he took one of their swords and just…massacred them. So much for the voices being weaker here.

His whole body grew warm and he tried to choke down the bile. He killed them. Yes, they were going to Gin, but they were still nothing more than soldiers. People with families. The exact group he wanted to protect with his decision.

“Pathetic,” the king muttered. He looked at the kitsune. “Sign him up for test runs. I want to see how he does in a controlled environment.”

“He’s a teenager, not a monster,” the kitsune replied defensively.

“One can be both.” He turned and offered a dismissive wave. “Get it done, Lady Yanami, or I’ll take you out of the office and onto the field.”

The king left and the kitsune walked a bit closer to Taiyo. Her even expression earlier shifted into something a bit more concerned.

“Did you mean to kill those soldiers?” she asked. When Taiyo shook his head, she continued, “I didn’t think so. You wouldn’t block it out if you had.”

She paused for a moment, glancing out at the hallway, then looked back at Taiyo.

“I can still take you to Gin. Shunji won’t be kind; it’s kill or be killed, hurt or get hurt.”

“N-no.” Gods, talking was a mistake. He swallowed down more bile while the taste remained on his tongue, only inviting it back up. “Why?”

Fortunately, she understood. “I have morals, unlike some people. And you remind me of someone who died just to stroke Shunji’s ego.”

The kitsune pulled away, her tail brushing against the floor.

“I’ll get you some food and water,” she said. “Maybe a new set of clothes. It looks like you might need it.”

Taiyo murmured some kind of thanks. The kitsune left, closing the door behind her; something moved just outside it. Maybe they were trapping him.

With one more turn of his stomach, he retched. He didn’t spit up that much, all things considered—just whatever little thing he managed to eat before he went into the river. How long has it been since then? A few days, at least.

He leaned against the wall, folded his legs against his chest, and let himself cry—about his migraine, the sick feeling of having killed people, and the voices mocking him for being miserable.

Even if he did take the kitsune’s offer and go back to Gin, would they even be okay around him? Not just physically—mentally, too. Kyoumi would never look him in the eye; Sorai would try, but always falter. Rei might avoid him. As soon as they heard he took blood, they would hate him.

And do you know what would solve that? the voices asked, pretending to be soft and comforting despite their echoing, harsh chorus after:

Take their blood as well, before they hear of your sins. Then they can live in denial that you, Taiyo, are a monster.