Please to Kitsune-sama!

The swordsman—Maruyama—looked up at Inari’s head when prompted. And then he noticed. Her ears really were… moving.

“Huh? Wha? Seriously?”

“See? They’re moving, aren’t they?”

While the two of them stared like they’d just seen a ghost, Inari sighed.

“I see ye two are quite close, but… could ye cease leaving me out of thy little bubble? Or better yet, return from whence ye came?”

“Ah—uh, no, sorry. Could we, uh… maybe start over for a moment?”

Maruyama suddenly snapped to attention and straightened his posture with a sharp motion.

“I’m Tadashi Maruyama. I came on behalf of the Japan Branch of the Awakener Association to investigate the cause of the dungeon’s disappearance.”

“Yuichi Takai. I’m here supporting Maruyama. Pleased to meet you.”

“Ohh… Well, I understand ye’re here on some work-related matter, at least. As for me, I seem to be called ‘Inari’—according to the display on that ‘status’ thing.”

“Inari…”

“Couldn’t be more on the nose…”

“I can hear thee, ye know?”

Maruyama and Takai had been whispering, but Inari had heard every word. When she glared at them, they both averted their eyes in a panic.

“If that’s thy idea of a proper reintroduction, I fear we’ve made no progress at all.”

“R-right… I’m really sorry.”

“Enough. Let us speak plain. I grow weary of this back-and-forth.”

As she waved her hand lazily, Maruyama nodded and gave it another go.

“As I said earlier, we’re here to investigate the dungeon that suddenly vanished. From what you told us before, you were the one who destroyed it?”

“Aye, I did say so.”

“Under normal circumstances, that would be impossible.”

“Thy ‘normal circumstances’ apply not to me, child of man.”

Since she wasn’t human, being judged by human standards was a bit of a hassle… but before she could say more, Maruyama continued.

“Your ears, your tail… There are just too many unknowns about you for us to process.”

“Understandable.”

“That’s why… would you come with us to the Japan Branch? You’re an Awakener too, right?”

“Fumu…”

Inari gave the proposal some real thought. She still didn’t know what “Awakener” truly meant. But it wasn’t something that needed to be resolved right away. What she had to decide now was whether to go along with them or not.

This village had long since perished. No one visited the shrine anymore. All that remained was a slow decay. More and more homes were crumbling now that no one lived in them. Eventually, this place would be swallowed back into the mountains.

Even if she stayed here, there was little hope for the future.

And for some reason, she’d become visible to humans again…

“…Mayhap this too is destiny.”

“Then—?”

“Aye. Let us visit this branch of thine.”

The world of mankind must’ve changed far more than Inari could imagine. Just as people once gathered around televisions, just as they marveled at washing machines… humans now had strange powers.

That thing they called a dungeon… and the term “Awakener”—soon enough, she’d understand what they meant. And that, Inari found rather exciting.

“Well then, let us be off. We’re boarding that herikoputā contraption, aye?”

“Ah, yeah! But before that, let me contact HQ. Takai!”

“On it.”

As Takai ran off toward the helicopter, Maruyama glanced over at the shrine.

“If you’ve got any belongings, now’s the time to pack them.”

“Nay, I’ve naught of the sort.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Aye.”

Inari’s clothing never got dirty—why, she couldn’t say, but that was just how it was. As for the daily necessities she used, they all belonged to the village. Nothing was truly hers.

“…Looking back on it, mine existence is a light one indeed. I’ve dwelt here long, yet what have I truly done…?”

“Wait, long? But you’re just a kid, right? What are you, fourteen? Fifteen? Where are your parents?”

“Thou wouldst ask a lady her age? How uncouth a brat thou art.”

“B-brat!? Even my grandma never used words like that…”

“I got through to HQ! They said bring her in too!”

“Ye heard him. Let us go.”

Inari casually walked toward the helicopter, boarding it with slow steps. Maruyama followed behind.

Inside the chopper, as the engine roared and they lifted off, Inari clutched her fox ears and screamed.

“Gyaaah! ‘Tis loud! What is this monstrous noise!?”

“That’s just how these things are! You’ll get used to it!”

“Then thy ears must be broken beyond repair!”

“Whoa, her tail just poofed! That’s amazing!”

With a thunderous roar, the helicopter departed the village, crossed over the mountains, and headed straight for the branch headquarters.

And as the sound finally settled into something tolerable, Takai broke the silence.

“By the way, Inari-chan—do you have a last name?”

“Last name?”

“Yeah. You’ve got one, right?”

If the question was whether she had one or not—the answer was no. In fact, even the name “Inari” hadn’t been one she chose for herself.

“Fumu… Well, I’ve none to speak of.”

“Seriously?”

But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could just make up. A name was a kotodama—a word spirit that embodied the self. If it didn’t exist, then it didn’t. And that was fine, as far as Inari was concerned.

But Maruyama and Takai exchanged awkward looks, clearly unsatisfied.

“…Whatever it is you’re troubled over, I assure you, ‘tis not that deep a tale.”

“O-oh. Got it.”

“Yeah, we get it. We really do.”

“Ye say so, yet thy faces betray confusion most obvious…”