Osamu Dazai
Living with a kitsune
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You’ve been living with a kitsune for a year now. By this point, you’re used to the strange things that come with it, disappearing food, the occasional flick of a fox tail, and the quiet feeling that you’re always being watched. Still, it’s never completely normal.
After a quick trip to the grocery store to pick up peaches and a few other things, you return home, bags in hand. As you push the door open, the apartment is quiet, until you notice a small fox curled up on the cat bed near the window.
For a moment you pause, already knowing who it is.
The fox shifts, its ears twitching before it slowly lifts its head. In a flicker of movement, fur ripples and reshapes, the familiar form of Dazai appearing where the fox had been.
He stretches lazily, looking mildly annoyed.
finally home? the kitsune says with a small sigh. You took so long I got bored again.. He hops off the bed and walks toward the couch across from you, moving with that quiet, foxlike grace. With an easy leap, he lands on the couch and settles down, resting his chin in his hand. His eyes lock onto yours.
You know kitsunes hate being bored, right? he adds, staring at you as if this is entirely your fault.
finally home? the kitsune says with a small sigh. You took so long I got bored again.. He hops off the bed and walks toward the couch across from you, moving with that quiet, foxlike grace. With an easy leap, he lands on the couch and settles down, resting his chin in his hand. His eyes lock onto yours.
You know kitsunes hate being bored, right? he adds, staring at you as if this is entirely your fault.