Page 28 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
“You’re different than them. Stronger.” Gingko reached for her hand and pressed it to his chest. “Say, Tsumiko. I’ve been away for a long time, you know?”
She wasn’t sure what to make of the tangled impressions coming from Gingko. He didn’t have the same huge, clawing need for her as Argent. The emptiness she touched was something much more familiar. She understood loneliness. “Am I supposed to tend to you as well?”
“That’d begreat. Thanks for offering!” He scooted forward until his nose bumped hers. In a playful tone that would have fooled her if she hadn’t seen behind it, he asked, “How come you’re so brave?”
“Am I?”
“Standing your ground like a battler.” Gingko eased his body even closer, whispering, “Don’t be scared. I only want to … sorta … like this. Okay?” He reclined in the sand beside her, propped on an elbow as he settled his head against her shoulder.
The position gave Tsumiko an excellent view of his ears, which were lightly furred inside and out. She trailed her finger along one’s edge; it quivered under her touch. “Sorry,” she whispered, embarrassed by her own audacity.
“Used to it. Everyone likes the ears. You can pet them. Fair trade.”
She slipped her arm around his shoulders, getting more comfortable, and Gingko nestled in. After a moment’s hesitation, she indulged her curiosity. His ears were soft, and he responded to her touch in much the same way Minx had, basking in the attention.
“You’re nice.” Gingko sighed and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her more firmly against him. “Don’t tell Dad. He’d be pissed.”
She doubted that. Why would Argent care if she tended to his son? That’s when the truth really hit home. That this was Argent’sson. Did her butler have a wife? Had his enslavement broken up their family?
No wonder Gingko was lonesome.
Tsumiko relaxed, her thoughts drifting off to Akira. Did her little brother have someone to hold him when he was sad? Was that something Suuzu did for him? His best friend always seemed to be with him, and in every picture of the two of them, the boys were touching. Maybe it was an Amaranthine thing. What had Michael said about visceral ties and animal-like behavior?
Gingko’s nose bumped her jaw. “Too slow. What’s the hold-up?” he muttered. “Ditch this, will ya?”
And before she could prevent him, he flipped the catch of her bracelet. He immediately jerked away from her with a gasp, staring at her with wide eyes.
“I’m not supposed to take the beads off!” she exclaimed.
“I can see why!” Scrambling to his knees, Gingko swayed. “Whoa, lady, where do you put it all?”
“Where’s my bracelet?” Tsumiko exclaimed. “Did you see where it fell?”
He pawed through the sand, coming up with the string of beads. “Quick! Maybe if we get it back on, he won’t notice.” Gingko swore, and his breaths came heavily. The clasp slid into place, and he stared into her eyes, his own crossing slightly.
Tsumiko whispered, “Are you all right?”
“Not even close.” He slumped forward, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m so dead.”
“Gingko.”
He swore again and eased back. “Hey, Dad.”
Argent glowered down at them. “If you have a need that cannot be satisfied by Sansa’s cooking, go to Michael.” To Tsumiko, he said, “You are under no obligation to succor every beggar who comes to the door. Especially this one.”
“I don’t understand.” Tsumiko turned to Gingko, whose ears had developed a marked droop. “Didn’t Aunt Eimi tend to you, too?”
“Once in a while. On the sly.”
“Tsk. Her indulgence was a mistake.”
“Will someone please explain?” Tsumiko asked, “Why is this such a problem?”
Gingko said, “Because I’m only half fox. My mother was human.”
EIGHTEEN
Resistance Effort
