Despite the early winter chill, Ren had stripped down to just a kimono and hakama. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his ponytail swayed as Ren sliced the air with his new, lifeless sword. He repeated the motion over and over, eyes narrowed in concentration.

Kuro inhaled deeply as the breeze carried Ren’s pungent scent to him, then slapped his hands over his mouth as the sound of his breath seemed to split the quiet air like thunder.

Ren would be furious if Kuro disturbed his training. Training was vital, way more vital than Kuro’s existence, if he was to defeat the Shogun. The last time they’d crossed swords… Well, it hadn’t turned out well for Ren. The Shogun had always held back in their practice duels, and Ren had underestimated him. And how much the Shogun wanted Ren dead.

Next time, Ren had to be ready. Well, Kuro hoped that there would be no next time, that they could beat the Shogun sneakily, like putting a poisonous snake in his futon, rather than head on in a duel. But it wasn’t as if any of Kuro’s tricks would stand up to the Shogun. He was sneakier than any kitsune.

Ren switched techniques, his sword raised above his head only to slice down at an invisible opponent’s side. The move required him to twist, ever so slightly.

Hands up, Kuro backed away, but he’d barely made it halfway back to the castle door before Ren spotted him. For that split second when Ren’s eyes met his, Kuro could have sworn that Ren seemed to smile at him. But that was impossible. The next moment, Ren was back to that ever-present cold disdain.

Ren lifted his chin, and Kuro clasped his arms around himself to keep from shuddering. When he did that, that imperious look, he looked too much like Reiha for comfort. “Come here.”

Come there? Where Ren was wielding that sword? Maybe Kuro could transform and pretend he was another fox, or summon foxfire to distract Ren while Kuro ran… Oh wait, he couldn’t do either of those, and Ren would find out his failure. So Kuro crossed his arms even more forcefully, and approached. And if Kuro’s footsteps were only half the length as usual, well, at least Kuro could distract him by acting bold.

“Sorry, I mean, I didn’t want to interrupt your training — am I interrupting your training? I mean—” So much for bold. Kuro’s skittish mind was now leaking out of his mouth.

“You’re not,” Ren said.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Kuro sagged in relief. “Good.”

“You can help me.”

“Me?” Kuro’s voice hadn’t run so high since he was a kit. “What could I possibly do…” To avoid Ren’s disappointment in him, Kuro had lowered his eyes while he was talking, only to rest on Ren’s sword.

Oh. In the Capital, the samurai would often test their swords’ sharpness on petty criminals, and Undesirables, and unwanted spirits like Kuro.

“You could use a log,” Kuro suggested. “That would be better. Harder to cut, you know. I’ll find you one.”

“What? No, I need a living creature.”

“Er…” Kuro did not like where this was going.

“And you can practice defending yourself using kitsune abilities.”

Kuro’s eyes went wide. “I’m allowed to defend myself?”

“Of course. It wouldn’t be much of a duel otherwise.”

Oh, a duel! Not Kuro standing there while Ren sliced into his flesh. Yeah, that made way more sense. Even if Ren thought him a useless disappointment, he wouldn’t torture Kuro. He’d only force Kuro to demonstrate his humiliatingly poor skill at basic kitsune abilities.

Could they go back to him being a log? Kuro could actually recover from that.

“Instead of that—” Kuro started to suggest.

A flash of steel in the corner of his eye was his only warning. Kuro dropped to the ground as Ren’s sword cut the space Kuro had been in.

“Decent,” Ren commented, “but you’ve trapped yourself. How can you dodge on your belly?”

“Well, I—” Ren didn’t wait for him to finish, but stabbed at the place where Kuro lay. Kuro rolled to the side, the edge of the sword snagging his silk sleeve.

“See? If I’d attacked with full speed, you’d be dead.”

That wasn’t full speed? Kuro stared up at him for a moment he couldn’t afford as Ren stepped closer and raised his sword again.

Kuro thrust himself forward, latching onto Ren’s bared ankle and bit him. Ren yelled, and Kuro immediately let go.

“Did I hurt you?” Kuro asked, only to have to scurry away once again as Ren attacked.

“Again, a decent idea, but you left yourself wide open to attack. The Shogun wouldn’t have hesitated like that.”

Kuro scrambled to his feet, knees bent, ready to flee. If he ran into the castle, would Ren chase him? At least in the courtyard, no one else would see Kuro trip over himself while Ren held back.

“Good,” Ren pronounced, even as he circled Kuro. Kuro stepped around too, to keep Ren in front of him, crossing his feet. As soon as he did, Ren darted forward, sword aimed at Kuro’s neck.

Kuro tried to dart away, or duck, or something, but his crossed legs tripped him. He fell to the side, just as Ren’s sword reached him. Kuro cried out as the sword bit into his shoulder, cutting through silk and flesh.

Stumbling, he managed to regain his feet, and clasped one hand over his shoulder. He couldn’t feel the wound yet, maybe because his heart was pounding too hard to let him feel the pain, or because it was too serious to feel.

Ren flicked his sword, drops of blood spattering on the ground.

Kuro backed up, his bottom lip trembling. “I can do better, I— I—”

Ren raised his sword. Kuro squeezed his eyes shut. This was it. The moment he’d fought so hard against. The moment he’d dreaded. Ren would get rid of him, once and for all.