Page 121 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
He could still taste her.
Under the same circumstances, Nona and Senna would have been salivating heavily and licking their chops, savoring their prey’s fear, snuffing her light, stealing her soul. But fear had dried his mouth, and the bond had punished him. Was still punishing him.
And he wasn’t entirely sure why.
Hadn’t he acted with her consent and cooperation? Wasn’t this the outcome she’d wanted? His obedience—or lack thereof—wasn’t the issue here. And that worried him, because it meant their bond was changing.
Sloshing water over his shoulders, he took the time to wring out his hair before taking two white towels from the shelf beside the door.
“I have finished,” he announced, back turned. “Take all the time you need. I will wait with Suuzu.”
“I won’t be long.”
Tsumiko sounded half-asleep, and he was tempted to check if her eyes were open. But he’d promised privacy. Breaking his word would undoubtedly translate as disobedience … and further pain.
Snatching an additional towel, he returned to the changing area, where Suuzu was singing nonsense to the sleeping baby. The young phoenix shyly indicated a neat stack of clean clothing. “For your use,” he said.
With murmured thanks, Argent shook out a set of loose pants. Since he and Suuzu were similar in build, the clothing would fit, but Argent didn’t much care for the colors. Birds always did have a penchant for gaudy hues. The bright yellows and burnt oranges were most likely traditional to the boy’s clan. But Argent closed his eyes and sighed at the simple pleasure of wearing Amaranthine-made clothing again. Humans couldn’t hope to replicate the delicacy of his people’s wares. Airy as a summer’s breeze, the boy’s spare sleepwear suited Argent better than anything he’d worn in centuries.
“Will it do?” Suuzu asked.
“Admirably. Thank you.”
Suuzu murmured more niceties and scooted to one side in an oblique invitation. One Argent was only too glad to accept. Giving up every pretense, he sagged onto the bench. He had no experience with members of the phoenix clans, but in general, birds were as careful with their trust as they were with their clothes. Yet Suuzu was clearly one of the first enrollees in the integration efforts, and he’d laid claim to a human nestmate.
“Are you some kind of diplomat?”
“Not quite.” Suuzu briefly lifted his gaze to Argent’s. “I am the Farroost clan’s second tribute. My brother and I were sent to seek trust.”
“And you found it in Akira Hajime?” He shook his head. “What use is a school boy to you or your clan?”
Suuzu shrugged. “I have no regrets.”
Argent hummed, his attention drifting to the infant. Suuzu had not only washed the baby, he’d had the good sense to improvise a diaper and was warming him with skin-to-skin contact. That wouldn’t do. Not at all. “Give him here, lest he begin to believe he belongs in nests rather than my den.”
Once Argent loosened the lacing on his borrowed tunic, Suuzu yielded the little one.
This was his first chance at a close inspection, so Argent familiarized himself with his new responsibility. Unfolding the blankets, he stroked tiny limbs and tugged bitty toes. He explored the child’s scales and freckling, as well as six unassuming bumps that looked suspiciously like the beginnings of horns.
In their speaking-form, Amaranthine only differed from humans in small ways. But with mixed blood, a clan’s more animalistic traits seemed to bleed through. Gingko’s fox ears and this child’s scales were a consequence of the human undercurrent in their blood. And that blood was as familiar to Argent as his bondage. Just like Gingko, this child was a Hajime.
Suuzu asked, “Will you foster him?”
“That is my intention.” Argent settled the child against the blaze on his bare chest. “Learn my voice, my scent, the shape of my soul. I may not be as bright as your mother, but you will find safety in my shadow.”
The baby uttered a sleepy squeak.
Argent answered with a low thrum and promised, “You will learn the stories of my clan. You will bear the crest of my den. You will know the care of a father and mother, of a brother and friends. Learn my voice, my scent, the shape of my soul, little one, for I am your home.”
FIFTY SEVEN
Nest and Nestle
Tsumiko pulled on her brother’s gym clothes, which were much too big. Cinching in the waist as best she could, she gave the jacket sleeves a push so they didn’t hang over her hands. Her little brother was probably still one of the shortest in his class, but he’d outstripped her. Which made her a little wistful, but also very proud.
In his own way, in this ordinary place, Akira had also found a special bond with the Amaranthine. His friendship with Suuzu was part of the peace that the Five were striving for. They were proof of what was possible.
When Tsumiko reentered her brother’s dorm room, everything was in shambles. Plastic bags with a convenience store logo littered the desks, and Akira had found extra futons somewhere. Suuzu swept past her and immediately began straightening rumples and smoothing creases.
