Stuck in the Rain

“Chikushō!”

I knew my luck wasn’t great but this felt almost personal. The sky was that perfect blue this morning - the kind of blue that’s almost like glass, like a single pane was between you and the stars above. The important thing being - the color of the sky aside - was that there weren’t any clouds! I had checked my weather app before heading for school, my dad watched the weather on the news before waving me off, everyone at school was talking about outdoor activities after school. Everything about today hinted at a glorious late-summer, early-fall afternoon. The kind childhood is made of. 

I’d made plans too of course, and not just passing plans made between classmates over our desks. This was a plan three weeks in the making. The kind of plan that took five of us looking over our schedules for the perfect afternoon, complete with a predicted perfect weather, but no, apparently whatever gods out there hated me, which I shouldn’t be surprised at by this point.

Thinking about all the effort that went into this afternoon, as I sat under one of the old bridges with my clothes soaked to my skin, maybe I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. That’s where things usually went wrong. That’s what happened with Hana, with that history test I thought I’d aced, that baseball game that we lost in the last inning…thinking mom had recovered.

“Idiot,” I murmured, listening to the rain consume the subtle breath. 

I pulled my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees, and peering at the rising water of the drainage. I’m sure it sounded lovely, like a trickling stream, but under the roar of thunder and the overwhelming clatter of rain drops hitting every surface, it was nothing. Such is life. You can make as much noise as you want, but in the end the storm drowns you out. Fruitless efforts.

Chu.

Lifting my head, I expected to see an animal. I mostly expected a stray cat that was seeking shelter from the rain like I was or maybe a raccoon. I’ve never actually seen a raccoon, but it's one of those weird little dreams where I long to see one. Preferably not digging in my trash but just chilling somewhere, munching on something he probably shouldn’t. I expected to see something normal, but when I lifted my head to see the creature, it took me a second to process.

Sitting on the other side of the bridge, seemingly frozen in place mid-step, was a small, white fox. I’m not saying foxes aren’t normal, but this one definitely wasn’t! The fur was snow white, and it seemed to flow smoothly as if a breeze wrapped around it. The tips of its paws were a deep red. I stared long enough to recognize that it wasn’t blood, but the fur itself was this rich red, not the traditional orange-red that foxes are supposed to be. The same red marked parts of its face in an intricate pattern, wrapping around the eyes and almost seeping into the golden iris. The gold of those eyes stared at me almost as hard as I stared at it. 

As the creature relaxed, I noticed the flicker of its tail. Then another, and another. Several tails swished in the air, dancing around each other, leaving me uncertain the number of tails the thing had. I knew it wasn’t a single tail or even two, but each time they moved, the number seemed to change. The tips of the tail - also tipped in a deep scarlet that blended into the fur seamlessly - twitched with each exhale of my breath. How long will it watch me? When will it blink?

Chu!

The thing darted off into the nearby wooded area. I could still see the light of its eyes as it continued to watch me, as if waiting for me to make a move. I’d have thought that the gaze would pierce me, but there was something calming about it. They weren’t the eyes of an animal. I couldn’t stop myself from standing up and moving closer. Call it curiosity or stupidity, but I followed that thing into the woods. I can see the headlines now: Idiot boy hallucinates fox creature and disappears into woods after mother’s death.

The sound of rain was even more deafening in the woods. Drops hitting leaves and trickling down while the wind swayed the branches into one another, almost like a crunching leaves in autumn or maybe like running through bushes. A crinkling sound. Under the canopy though, the rain had a harder time getting to me, not that it made me any less wet. As if to amplify the ambience of the whole ordeal, the cloudy sky had left the woods as dark as night, leaving me stumbling along each bush and root. In the muffling rain and darkened woodland, the white fox stook out like a neon light. It continued to stop and watch me, as if waiting for me to catch up, and, like the fool I am, I continued to follow it. 

Again, I got my expectations up.

Lightning illuminated the woods, revealing towering trees that seemed to crowd me, moving in as if to eat me alive. The mud I trenched through was visible, caked to my shoes and pants. Countless other shimmering eyes - watching from the dark - reflected back at me. The light faded and thunder echoed, rattling the world around me. The cold breeze and dripping rain clutched to my skin, seeping into my bones, leaving me frozen in place, and that’s when I noticed it. The fox was gone.

“W-Wait!” I shouted into the abyss of the woods, listening to the echo before it got caught up in the rain. “Little fox guy? C-come back!”

I spun in circles, searching the darkness for that white light. It was like the moon in the night sky, but it seemed like the storm clouds covered it too. Just my luck. 

“Kuso…Kuso!” I stomped my foot, feeling the mud splatter. The sound was negligible under the rain. I stomped again. “I’m such an idiot! H-how could I do something so stupid! Idiot!”

I felt the storm inside of me now. It was dark and vicious. It swirled around, pumping inside of me and pushing out. I kicked the air, felt it wrap around my leg and disappear back into place. I punched the bark, felt the impact against my skin, its gritty surface grind along as I pulled away. I screamed into the void. Thunder replied.

I felt all the strength leave my body. Whatever storm had been raging, whatever had been built up inside of me, seemed to have left now. It felt as though I had been hollowed out, that something rotten inside of me had been carved clean. I felt the burning on my cheeks soften as the rain pattered against them. The water gently slipped along my skin, falling onto my shoulders, soaking into my clothes. 

Chu?

I once again gently lifted my face to the fox. It was well within reach, sitting in front of me. The glowing white fur shimmered in the darkness. It sat expectedly, paws pressed into the dirt but without a trace of mud. It’s head was lowered, eyeing me. I felt embarrassed, brushing my hands off on my shirt. I chuckled awkwardly as the creature watched me. The chuckle somehow turned to sobbing. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was just everything. Everything I had kept inside until now. All the emotions I’d been ignoring since my mother died.

“You know,” I whispered, slowly reaching out to touch the ghostly fur, “Hahaoya…my mother…she always loved foxes. She told me about back where she’s from - some rural place in Japan - there were stories about spirit foxes. What’s the word…” I stroked the fox as I thought, and it let me. “Kitsune, that’s right. Foxes with…nine…tails…”

I stared at the fox in front of me. It observed me knowingly. I swallowed, trying to remember everything my mother told me about the kitsune. It’d been so long ago. That must be why it took me so long to form the connection. Kitsune were tricksters, weren’t they? Or were they messengers? Both? Why do I feel so panicked all of a sudden?

The fox - kitsune? - bowed its head once more before pulling away. It scampered up a slight incline, looking down at me. The thought of being left behind again didn’t even cross me, but I think that in actuality, it never actually did. The storm simply clouded my view. I got to my feet, feeling the mud adding a new layer that desperately clung to me. With little hesitation, I once again followed the kitsune.

Soon there was a light at the edge of the woods. It seemed to swallow the white fur of the kitsune, leaving only a faint flicker of the red tips and the softness of the golden eyes. I placed my mud-riddled shoes onto the pavement and realized I was back where I’d started, under the bridge.

I held out my hand, peering up at the sky. The rain had stopped. I could hear the town showing signs of life again. I watched the clouds continue to roll, revealing a clear blue. The kind of blue that’s almost like glass.