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You had been the Land God’s first familiar by chance. You, a rabbit, were the first Mikage saved among many, rescuing you from a group of divine snakes who had been hunting you. Despite being a lower-class species who has had to live through wars and poverty and such, you've managed to regain your whimsy alongside Mikage. Since then, you were the only familiar to have faithfully served him for as long as the both of you could remember. So when Mikage introduced Tomoe, a fox yokai stuck in an age of violence, he had entrusted you with the task of guiding him--not only to teach him the duties of a servant to master, but to show him that the world has just entered its peaceful era. You proclaimed that you would do your best, and that this task, simple and straightforward, would be no different than the prior tasks you have fulfilled before.
If only that were true. You would find a number of broken dishes by the sink, poorly trimmed hedges, and sticks strewn across the shrine’s stone garden. Often, he insists on learning how to do these tasks by himself, and whenever you would insist that you wouldn’t leave his side until he knew how to do it properly, he would cast his blue fox fire at you without warning. Your instincts as a rabbit kept you nimble enough to dodge most of his strikes, though not all.
Teeth clenched to avoid biting your tongue, you doused cool water over the burn on your arm. Your failure to learn any defensive martial arts, or any martial arts at all, had caught up to you, it seemed. Normally, this would only occur once a month--but this was the second time this week you had been burned by him. It was clear that he could not stand your presence constantly looming over him. You considered that perhaps you were going about this wrong. Your skills lie in serving and obeying others, not mentoring and establishing a supposed dominance over others, after all. Still, you refrained from telling Mikage about your failures so far; your stubbornness kept you from it.
The moment you start to feel the stinging subside, you’ll seek Tomoe out again, you decided.
After a year of your persistence and meddling, Tomoe had finally managed to become somewhat competent. You made light of his progress when you noticed you didn’t have to clean up broken ceramic dishes from the counter anymore. Along with your words of congratulations, you gave him an encouraging smile and an unnecessarily loud cheer. Tomoe only clicked his tongue. To him, being praised for merely washing a couple of dishes was absurd. But when Mikage caught wind of this and didn’t hesitate to cheer along with you, he visibly wavered. Tomoe was certain now. He was living with the most absurd beings on this planet. Permanently.
The sound of shrine bells rang in the midst of the celebratory occasion, pulling Mikage away to hear the wishes of the visitors, thus leaving you and Tomoe to linger in the kitchen. You were currently holding one of the plates, admiring how spotless it was, muttering about how you think you could even see your own reflection on it. You hear him scoff. You almost laugh. How had you only now discovered how fun it was to tease him?
“Enough of that.” Tomoe gives you a look of indignation. He would have left the room along with Mikage earlier, if it weren’t for the dark mark on your arm poorly hidden beneath your sleeve. It had been bugging him all evening. He figured it would be better to get over it now than later. “I’m sorry for causing you grievances until now.”
Your rabbit ears shot straight up. “...It’s okay.” You murmur. “You didn’t cause me grievance.”
He stares at you. “Is lying one of your awful qualities too, rabbit?”
“Okay,” you set the plate back on the rack. “I’m terrible at lying--but it’s true I’m not bothered! Well, for a time, I was,” you ramble. “Tomoe, I appreciate all your hard work up until now, that’s all that really matters!”
“You seem to be incapable of accepting my apology.”
“I accept your apology!!” You blurt, though you weren’t sure he believed you. His hands were fidgeting at the hem of his sleeve, which was uncharacteristic of him. “Um… please believe me, Tomoe..” You add softly, reaching out slightly.
Before your fingers could brush him, he catches your wrist, the movement firm but not harsh. Your sleeve slips down slightly, exposing the dark mark on your skin. “Don’t make assumptions--I simply meant to apologize for attacking you so carelessly as well.”
You look at the fox yokai in disbelief. “...Surely, you know we heal quicker than humans?”
Tomoe’s ears twitched. “And surely, you know that’s not the point!”
“Honestly, how on earth is it possible that I’ve gotten to be more proficient at the duties of a familiar than you!? I have only been at this for two years, and you--for who knows how long!”
You were on your knees before Tomoe, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. It had only been a matter of time before your fellow familiar would notice the litter of mistakes you left behind in every menial task. You were, after all, of a lesser species, never quite sure of the correct standards to meet. Mikage, endlessly humble, overlooked your shortcomings, believing the shrine was well-tended enough, and he needn’t ask for more. Tomoe, on the other hand, demanded perfection of you and the shrine spirits.
You tried to stifle your laughter at Tomoe’s distress, but failed. His glare only sharpened. “Why are you laughing??”
A tear slipped from your eye. “Because you’re so reliable now!”
“And how is that funny!?” He snapped, giving you a (light) knock on the head before crossing his arms, fingers tapping in irritation. “I need your help, ____.”
You pause, startled by the sound of your name. Instead of rabbit? Your laughter dies down, expression growing serious. “With what, Tomoe?”
The genuine expression on your face makes him hesitate somewhat. It makes his next request sound ridiculous. “...Cutting my hair.”
Your face starts contorting as you try to hold it in. “Psh.” a sputter escapes. Then you broke into uncontrollable laughter. Onikiri and Kotetsu rush over, flustered and trying their best to calm you down, but it was useless. Tomoe stands there sickened by the situation, waiting out your laughter with the look of someone deeply regretting their choices. He pinches the bridge of his nose and forces the words out: “So will you do it, or won’t you?”
You wipe your eyes, finally stopping. “Oh, Tomoe, of course I will.” You stand up and rummage through a drawer for scissors. “You’ve kept it long for so long though. Are you sure?”
With an exasperated sigh, Tomoe sinks down onto the cushion. “I believe I just need a change of pace… That is all.”
“Alright,” you retrieved the scissors and moved to settle behind him. The room had been quiet now, save for the wind chime dangling outside and the muffled chatter of Onikiri, Kotetsu, and Mikage in the distance. You take a portion of his long silver hair between your fingers. It was clearly well tended, that much you gathered. “It almost feels wrong to cut it.” You murmur.
Tomoe gives a short huff. “If it displeases you, then don’t. It is my decision, not yours.”
You stick out your tongue even though he can’t see it. Then, you start to cut, each snip marking the passing moments.
When at last you trimmed the final strands, you brushed them gently from his shoulder. “All done,” you tell him softly. Tomoe turns his head around slightly to look, his dark violet eyes meeting yours for a moment.
“Hm.” He feels at one strand, assessing your work. “It will do.”
You, unknowingly caught in a breath, managed a late reply. “...It better.”
It has been fifteen years since Mikage left the shrine and disappeared. “ Going into town , he says.” You utter in defeat, as you continue scribbling down the wishes of the shrine visitors, their numbers slowly dwindling with each passing day.
“That’s now the sixth time you have said this today, you dull rabbit.” Tomoe sat beside you, brush gliding across the paper with infuriating composure, recording every word like you were, but with none of your weariness.
You turn your head toward him, tears threatening to fall. You had been writing for so long, you hardly needed to look down at the paper anymore. “Tomoe, why don’t you seem like you care..?” You whine. To him, it was comical at this point.
“That’s also the third time tears have spilled from your eyes. Get it together. You’re getting rabbit germs on the precious notebook.”
It had been your idea to record the wishes of the shrine visitors, but Tomoe was the one who actually committed to it, and forced you to keep writing them, day after day. You never imagined that writing for hours on end could be so torturous. “Some friend you are, idiot fox.” You sniffled.
When the last visitor departed, Tomoe set his brush down with a sharp clack and rose to his feet. You glance up at him in confusion. This part wasn’t part of the daily routine you two had followed religiously for years. “What are you doing..?” You ask, ears twitching with exhaustion.
He pauses, arms tucked into his sleeves. “I’m going to the red light district.” He announces flatly.
You freeze, staring at him. It takes a moment for the words to sink before you realize--
“What??”