As Kuchisake opened her lips to tell him the one person in all the land who could possibly fix the Kusanagi, Kuro was already opening his mouth to vow to find them, no matter the cost.

Then the three words landed in his ears, and the vow choked in his throat.

The Storm God. As in, one of the three most powerful gods still in heaven. As in, the god who had once thrown a flayed horse at his sister the Sun Goddess over a minor disagreement. As in, the one to whom the Okazaki Shrine had been dedicated, left in the care of his rabbit familiars, and the one that in Kuro’s bid to seize the shrine, Kuro had stolen offerings from.

An offense way more insulting than his tiff with his sister.

“I’ve heard rumours that he’s reappeared,” Kuchisake said, seemingly oblivious to the roar of static in his ears, the tightening in his chest. “Drinking and gambling, of course, in a village a few weeks’ journey west. A once easy journey to make, but not even I control the path anymore. All kinds of rogue demons lurk in the mountains and valleys.”

Kuro swallowed despite his mouth having dried up. Right. Because he hadn’t been terrified enough of the mountains surrounding the Capital, where the weaker demons roamed. The kind of demons that joined the Night Parade, because even they were afraid of the demons deeper in the wilderness. The demons who, in an earlier era, would have ruled vast lands as demon lords. Who did not need an entire parade of demons to lay devastation to human holdings.

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Sometimes, the rotting stench of human and spirit corpses had been so strong that it blew through the mountains to the Capital. Kuro didn’t want to know how many corpses that required.

And now, Kuro was considering trekking past all those terrifying, spirit-eating demons to approach the Storm God, who had every reason to flay Kuro and throw his body at a goddess?

“I can…” Kuro stuttered, “I can run fast.”

Kuchisake patted his head. “I’m sure you can. And the Storm God has probably torn to pieces the worst demons threatening his favourite drinking holes. He never could stand a demon, the Storm God. Just look at poor Orochi. He just wanted a nice dinner once in a while.”

“I’m not a demon.” Kuro couldn’t be. Not the way his heart thundered and his body froze. Demons were scary. They weren’t frightened of anything.

But the Storm God was scarier.

And the Storm God probably didn’t make distinctions about a black fox whose very existence brought chaos and disaster upon the land.

“There is one other thing in your favour,” Kuchisake said. “The Storm God’s companion. I hear he travels with a Celestial Kitsune.”

“How is that any help?” Kuro snapped. The Celestials all hated Kuro just because of his black fur. They didn’t even like red fox.

“You know them,” Kuchisake chirped. “They’re your elder sibling, Kazumi.”

Kuro no longer had the ability to stay sitting up. He collapsed onto the floor, the enormity of it all crushing his chest.

Hands holding him under. Frigid water soaking his fur, seeping into his burning lungs.

Kuchisake patted his knee. “You just stay in your den, where it’s warm and secure. That time of year is approaching, is it not? You’ll be safe here.”

Safe, yes. His den, far away from rivers. Far away from family who despised him. Kuro writhed on the tatami, seeking the warmth of the kotatsu.

Just Ren. Who hated him. Unless Kuro could buy more time.