Equals - Chapter V
A/N: Respectable length. Setup, setup, the future holds a lot. Feedback very welcome. Enjoy!
CW: Standard Equals warnings; specifically graphic gore (this time it's not Factorial!), absolutely vile language towards Factorial.
Ungrateful wenches.
She gave them everything. Woven fineries, exotic foodstuffs, the softest of carpets in the most luxurious of dwellings within her very own home. They had all the immeasurable riches of her fortune at their fingertips and a steady access to male playthings through her wide web of contacts.
But above all, she gave them life. She brought them into this world. Is this how they repay their mother's toil?
Matsui forces a shallow breath through the ripping pain in her stomach. The air tastes of iron, an odour so pungent she wretches on reflex, her body seemingly ignorant of her condition. She had no stomach anymore - what processed expensive delicacies was now like a punctured balloon, resting on her acid-burnt hands amongst her own guts. The strikes aimed at her abdomen were so numerous and so fierce that it broke open onto her lap into a fetid pile of gore. And then, as she dared them to deliver the final blow to their so-hated matron, they left with snarls of contempt, dooming her to perish in agony.
Some part of her expected this to happen. I deserve this, a part of her mind declares, not motivated by some sudden moral clarity. No. She was too lenient on her daughters. She didn't fail to provide enough - she granted them too much. The teeth spoil from an overindulgence of sweetness, and so her offspring grew lazy and arrogant, fattened by the decadence she provided. She spared them the lash, she spared them the exile, she coddled and kissed them and now? She was just reaping what she sowed over the last century. They thought they could do better without her.
“We'll… See…” She murmurs to herself, hanging her head. It's too difficult to keep it upright. Matsui feels strength bleed from her body and down to the wooden floors.
It's a shame she didn't see it coming. She could have at least killed the dog, that way the thankless bitches wouldn't get to enjoy him or pawn him off and bathe in the resulting luxury. It's all his fault - it was he who planted these queer, traitorous monsters within her womb. Where is he anyway at this time? She smirks weakly, blood pouring into the cracks of her dry lips. The mental image of the white-haired retard getting gang-raped on some dusty floor lifts her mood a little. Fitting reward for such a cowardly indigent. How foolish she was, to leave his mind somewhat intact instead of breaking it in properly. She should have hurt him until he begged for more, rendered him so thoroughly adhered to his owner that he would rather end his miserable life than be away from her, give his own in defence of hers. Without that, it was painfully foreseeable that Factorial would skitter away when the first knife was drawn instead of casting himself between her and her assassins.
Even in her pain-stricken state, her hand twitches, longing for a lash she could strike across his face. If only fate would allow her to wipe his smile just once more…
Enough meandering. If her actions were indeed blessed by foresight, she would soon be able to dig her claws into his supple body again. He might have been stupid, he might have been whiny, he might have been utterly pathetic, but he was never useless.
Matsui tenses her throat, a silent groan leaving her throat as her injuries are made apparent. She calls on every intact faculty within her mind and speaks.
“Mother…” She coughs, her voice raspy. “Patron of us all…”
“I call upon you in my moment of need…”
“I beg of you, amidst my scarlet ablution…”
“Feast on me as you have feasted on him.”
Dark spots begin to dance before Matsui’s eyes. Each uttered syllable is a strain on her perishing body, growing closer to the precipice of mortality with each passing second. Nonetheless, she bites down on her mangled tongue and continues her practiced utterances.
“Call upon the darkest feats…”
“The stygian depths of his agony…”
“Soften your gaze over the unworthy tool…”
As she continues, Matsui lets go of her innards and shifts, groaning in pain. Her finger juts out, pressing down on a clean patch of wood, drawing deliberate patterns with growing desperation. She could feel it coming. Her mind, dulled by the pain and hopeless attempts at self-mending, sways increasingly towards oblivion.
“Pick up the pieces…”
“And… Forge her…”
“Anew…”
—
His stomach is growling. His head spins, making him feel sick. He just wants to lay back in bed, curl up and forget about everything. Forget about hunger and forget about today.
Or was it yesterday? He couldn't tell.
Factorial woke up when the sun was already in position, casting a warm glow over Miss Miko's garden, visible from his window. Butterflies frolicked in the air, jumping from flower to flower and feasting on the nectar alongside the ever busy bees. His nose could smell a squirrel somewhere around the trees, a scent poking at his empty belly even further. The world outside was bright, warm and peaceful but somehow he did not share its joviality.
He woke up covered in dirt and bruises. It wasn't something unusual for him: normally waking up dirty would be the norm; except the fact that he remembered going to sleep clean the previous day. The previous day… What exactly happened yesterday? He rubs his temple with his left hand, nose immediately picking up the unmistakable aroma of his blood. A quick examination revealed minor cuts and scratches, just like the ones he would have after garden work back home. As with the rest, he could not recall what happened that got him those marks.
“Is something wrong?” The familiar voice rings out in his head. “What’s on your mind?”
It strikes him. Now he remembers. He remembers waiting at the door, listening to the maids going around, waiting for the right moment to slip between their patrols. He remembers dashing into the garden, easily climbing a bench and leaping over the wall; he landed cleanly and bolted forward. His mind pieces together the previous day's end: the mad dash through the forest, his paws on the soft ground, his snout caressed by the wind.
And then, the fear. The horrid realisation of what he has done, what he allowed his retarded male brain to take root. He threw himself at his temporary owner with murderous intent, and when his vicious, unprovoked attack failed, he tried to take his own life. Factorial tries to destroy her property, her most priceless of possessions, the future of her line and the kitsune kind. In his selfish outburst he betrayed everyone.
“Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. No no no no-” He grabs his head, pressing his hands strongly into the sides of his skull, as if trying to silence his thoughts. “No no no no no…
At this realization his heart twists painfully in dread. He has done the unimaginable, something he only dreamt of all his long life. He thought about it, but he didn't want to do it! He knew that vixens, no matter which one specifically, wanted only the best for him. Miss Miko took him in, fed him, gave him a bed and, on top of that, didn't hurt him! Is this how he showed his gratitude?!
It's just a matter of time before he meets his due punishment. Just what will Miss Miko do to him? If it were Lady Matsui, the possibilities were many, each more horrific than the last. Flaying, boiling, crushing, quartering… She promised them to him whenever he disagreed with her, until he disagreed no more. What would Miss Miko do? Perhaps he could say he was trying to run back to Lady Matsui? But the law of acquisition… How long has it been since he arrived here? He could be her property now… She would then have the right to kill him.
The torrent of thoughts brings tears to his eyes; Factorial squishes his head stronger still, begging for reality to just disappear. His heart races with dread and his sharp breaths quickly turn to sobs. He was scared. He didn't want to die.
Not yet. It's sunny, it's summer, there are birds and squirrels and mice outside. He liked looking at them, catching them, only to set them free. He liked bathing in the warm sunlight, on the lush, soft grass… He liked warmth. The world was warm. Death was cold and hard, just like his cage. Death would be like being in the cage forever, but with no cockroaches to keep him company or dampness to lick from the walls when thirsty. He would be alone, cold, hungry and thirsty, forever.
His nails press against his skin, unable to leave anything beyond red marks. But even then, if she wouldn't kill him, she could still punish him differently. She could cut off his tongue - robbing him of taste, stripping him of another pleasure. Or she could take his eye, or even both… And he wouldn't see finches anymore… No…
“I-I’m s-s-sorry!” He stutters out, panic threatening to take what composure he has left. “P-p-please d-d-don’t k-kill m-m-me…”
“Shh, silly.” The voice returns, smooth and deliberate. “Why are you crying? It was nothing but a dream.”
“But…” He sniffles, but isn't convinced. Vaguely, yes, but he recalls going outside sometime in the very recent past. Not just into the garden, but beyond the estate itself. He remembers an old shack, smelling of mouse urine and rotting wood. “I remember-”
Factorial is interrupted. “Your mind plays tricks on you. You're confusing dreams and reality. Maybe the brain damage finally caught up to you, hm? Maybe Matsui did hit you too hard in the head.”
“No, she didn't… She wouldn't.” The fox shakes his head at nothing, just as if his conversation partner was right in front of him and could see his disagreement. “She knows how much I can take.”
There's a pause. Factorial's fifth tail flicks in concern as thoughts buzz behind his eyes. The voice told him what he thought happened was just a dream, a nightmare of disobedience and a grand proof of his ungratefulness. He would have rejected this seemingly blatantly false statement, but his friend argued a crucial point: if he would have done that - escaped and fought back in some way - he would be dead. Either on the spot or, as Lady Matsui said, awaiting flaying in a shrine dungeon. Instead, he was alive and sleeping in a real bed. No mistress would allow her male any clemency after such an outrageous betrayal.
Maybe… Maybe the dirt and wounds were just picked up earlier. Or maybe Miss Miko did all of this to make him question his senses. It would be a test, like Lady Matsui's.
But if it indeed was, then why was his friend so insistent? Factorial hadn't heard from him ever since he arrived in this strange place. Maybe he was worried?
“Clearly it had some effect. If it didn't, you wouldn't be kneeling here, mulling everything over instead of doing what's right.”
Factorial's thoughts are interrupted again. He looks back at the cabinet. “Y-yes…”
The dog, prompted by his friend's authoritative assertions, got out of bed specifically to do this - to train himself. Mundane as it was, the piece of furniture had quite the heavy doors that would be perfectly suited for the purpose; the gap between the hinges was perfectly wide. He could stick his hand in there up to the wrist. All he had to do was place it in there and slam the door shut.
“You can't let that slide, Factorial. If you don't remind yourself who your master is, you'll keep having such… Dreams.” The voice continues. “They might compel you to do the same in reality. And then? A very painful death.”
Right. All of this was true. He had seen the furs of other disobedient dogs lining the inner walls of the shrine near his house. Matsui would take him there quite often to remind him what fate awaits him if he were to resist. One time the priestess even allowed his Wife to borrow one of the skins - a pristine white coat flayed from an arctic dog just like him, but a bit bigger. For his hesitation at the banquet the day before, he was locked in the cooling room with nothing but the pelt to keep him warm. That… That really made him grateful for being alive.
“Miss Miko is good to me… She doesn't punish me.” Factorial says, nervously opening the cabinet door. It creaks ominously. “I must discipline myself. So I won't forget that it's wrong to be ungrateful like this.”
“Indeed.” The voice confirms.
Factorial takes a deep breath. He knows this will hurt, but he knows this is necessary. A male cannot be taught without pain. How will he remind his primitive mind that no ill thought towards his caretakers is acceptable without making it feel pain? He knows this is the way, it's how all males have always been treated, but he's still afraid. It will hurt, but… It's necessary, right? He doesn't want to be a bad dog. Especially for a wife that has treated him so well.
He slides his hand between the door's hinges.
But before he can muster the courage to slam it shut, his ears perk up. There's commotion in the house. Factorial turns his right ear towards the door to hear better, the white bodypart already leaning towards the sound like a satellite dish. He hears many footsteps, but among them that special set, both exciting and horrifying. The earless servants walk through the house as usual, but Miko is coming down from the third floor. Her footsteps are light, but somehow heavy with deliberate intention. He listens in… She's going down the stairs to the second floor, the first floor… Oh no. She’ll be here any second now!
What should he do? Should he tell her? What if she punishes him for even dreaming about disobeying? What if she throws him out, or worse still, returns him to Matsui? No, no, no, he must punish himself. He must show he knows his place.
“Do it already, you're running out of time!” His mind-friend speaks, urgency in its voice.
But… The other part of him, the experienced and wise fox, isn't so sure about this. He has honed his perceptiveness over six hundred years and can assume some things - not whether something is right or wrong, he has obviously no authority to decide it, but he can estimate what kind of things a vixen likes. Miss Miko didn't seem like the type to enjoy physical punishment; if she were, she would have struck or pinched him already as her type struggle to restrain their excitement quite often. No, she seemed like a more deliberate type. It's plausible she enjoys more refined torture, using metal devices and words that make him feel scared. Like Matsui…
The footsteps grow ever closer. Any second now and the door will be slid open, him caught in the act. What will she think? She was angry when he hid that muscle cramp, her ears twitched when she massaged his leg - he forced her into such a shameful act because of his assumptions! No, it was not the time for this, he had to trust his instinct.
Factorial retracts his hand and, in a puff of magical smoke, changes his shape. Within seconds, just as the footsteps slow, he bolts towards the futon and pounces, landing snout-first into the neatly folded pile of pristinely white, clean bedding, just as the door moves open.
Yae Miko emerges from the entrance; she moves slowly, surveying the room for any sign of her guest. As soon as she saw him moving around through the spy-charm, she had the maids prepare a hearty breakfast. Despite her nose telling her that Factorial was around, it was only when she looked towards the bed that she found a pair of white ears sticking out over the folded duvet. They seemed smaller than before. She approaches, eager to find out if it is as she suspects.
Indeed, who she sees is a small white fox, looking cautiously at her as he sits, tails - a veritable cloud of white fluff - wrapped around his pelvis. Much to her amusement he doesn't seem that much bigger than herself. But perhaps… Just a bit cuter.
“Good morning, Factorial. My, what a pleasant sight to be greeted with.” She slowly walks around to sit beside him. “How did you sleep?”
Miko, aiming to be as unintimidating as possible, places her hands neatly on her lap. Factorial shifts back within a blink of the eye, now nestled against the blanket pile with his legs close to his chest. His expression, eyes fixed on his knees, is empty.
“I slept well, miss. The bed you let me sleep in is very comfortable.” His voice is quiet, but somewhat robotic. “Thank you, miss.”
She shakes her head. “You're welcome, little one. I admit, the futon is not the finest I have here, but your visit was hardly expected.”
Silence falls between them for the briefest of moments. Miko opens her mouth, but surprisingly Factorial speaks first.
“I don't deserve this, miss.” His half lidded eyes stare off into the distance. “I haven't done anything for you yet. Please…” Factorial glances up at Miko, but quickly averts his eyes. “Let me make you happy.” His ears lay low, signaling submission.
There is no chance that she could convince him that he needs not prostrate himself before her, the woman realises. What do then? Perhaps play along for the moment. No matter the circumstances, she always loved a nice surprise. “If that will lift your spirits”, Miko says, “you may do whatever you think is best for the occasion.”
The boy nods and, ever so slowly, raises himself from the bed. Miko’s gaze follows him as he makes his way around and kneels before her. Factorial sits back, his attention shifting between her and her feet. The look he gives her reminds the guuji more of a beaten dog than a man. Perhaps, on a linguistic technicality, that's what he is…
“May I comfort your feet, miss?”
Her response doesn't come immediately. Not nearly as fast as she would like to admit. The sight of Factorial, dirty as he is, does not evoke in her just the usual pity and vague discomfort. Really, how long has it been since someone as handsome as him offered to dote on her by massaging her feet? Maybe, if he really found that activity calming, there was no reason to stop him? A win-win, clearly.
Factorial waits patiently for her order. He is tense, she can see it.
Besides, he was used to performing this type of service. He wouldn't think it weird, nor would he think of her as abusive if she permitted him. For him it would be a task as any other. And it's not like anybody would find out; she banned her staff from entering his room without explicit permission, and Factorial himself wouldn't tell a soul…
Ever so slightly, Miko wiggles her left foot, trying to slip off her shoe.
But then, would she be any different than Matsui? It will start with these kinds of favors - a massage here, a meal there. Before she realises, she'll be telling him to… No. Just the thought makes her nauseous. No, she wouldn't let it get to that. Never. Would she kick a cat, just because it couldn't tell anyone of its plight?
“I appreciate the willingness, but that won't be necessary.” She speaks quickly, getting it out before she can convince herself otherwise. “What I would appreciate more is if you'd accompany me to breakfast.”
Hearing her words, the fox relaxes slightly; his shoulders slump a little and his ears straighten. “Y-yes, of course, miss.” Although she couldn't prove it, Miko feels a note of anticipation in his voice. He must be hungry after his recent truancy.
“Come, Factorial.”
The duo raise up and emerge into the corridor, the male deliberately walking behind Miko. His footsteps are quiet, so much so that if her ears were that of a plain human, she would not hear him move. Her whiskers, hidden between the strands of pink and white hairs of her ears, sense movement near his head - anxious glancing left and right, no doubt. His heart must be thumping with nerves, expecting something to happen, either by her will or his mistake. Miko wonders, as they walk, what must have been the usual agenda at his home to make him worried about something so menial?
She brings up the images from yesterday in her mind. That obviously played a part, not knowing what fresh hell Matsui would craft, but it wasn't it. It would fill him with fear whenever she was around, or near specific triggers like knives, belts, chains. Not make him scared of just poking his head out. What did she do to him? Strike him whenever she passes him in the halls? Put nails or broken glass on the floor? Or have him whipped for even accidentally looking at her without permission? She smiles - if that whole Matsui were a character in a novel she was offered, she'd call her comically evil, too much for even a light hearted take on an antagonist. What soured the humour was the dog trotting behind her. Living proof that Matsui manifested her comical, petty sadism not on ink and parchment, but flesh and blood.
Before long they reach the dining hall, already set out with various delicacies. There have been significant alterations to the menu since Factorial first ate beside her: more raw meat was present at the table, including white fish slices with various dipping sauces, beef tartare with fresh egg and spring onions prepared according to Snezhnayan recipes as well as his favourite - sushi consisting of a lone piece of raw salmon on a brick of rice. Her selection of dishes was specifically tailored to her likings, including (to nobody's surprise) a rich serving of fried tofu. Obviously, the pickled abominations that briefly haunted her home have been banished to the seventh layer of the Abyss whence they came, spoiling the table with their smell no more. It was nice to see that Factorial, for all his faults, was still a sensible man.
Miko walks to the side, opening up the doorway for Factorial. With a nod she encourages him to go inside of the room, watching as he slowly steps inside. He seems slightly huddled, no doubt from an instinctual effort to reduce his observable size and appear less threatening. Factorial hugs himself; for some unclear reason, his tails are out - all six of them, pointed in various directions but always positioned upwards. It must be uncomfortable, she thinks, to constantly keep them upright. Nonetheless Factorial looks around the dining hall, examining the table. His nose is moving visibly as he hungrily takes in the scents of food, making his tails twitch. The dog is clearly hungry; yet there he remains, fixed in place at the threshold of the room. Too fearful to do anything.
“It looks delicious, doesn't it?” She says, voice soft and clear of the mockery usual for Miko. “I've had some adjustments made to fit your tastes, as you can see. Go on, little one.” Her hand points towards the table. “Eat to your heart's content.”
There's a moment of silence from Factorial. He looks to check for any signs of an ulterior motive from her; is it a trap? Did she poison the food? What will happen if he touches the food? His eyes return to Miko’s face to look for confirmation. Instead of saying anything, the woman walks over to the table and takes a spot. She gives him an expectant look. “You wouldn't let a lady eat like this, all solitary and bored, would you?”
Factorial’s eyes widen and, as if thanks to her dangerous tone, recalls her naming instruction. “Sorry, Miko, I'm sorry!” He rushes to sit opposite her, keeping his head low and eyes submissively averted. His tails freeze any of their previous movement as he waits for Miko's next words. “W-what would make you h-happy, Miko?”
“If you'd delight me with some answers to my burning questions, I'd be thrilled.” Seeing he's still hesitating to indulge his hunger, Miko can't stop the sigh of frustration from leaving her lips. “Eat.”
The tension in her voice gives Factorial a noticeable push and he starts to sate his hunger, slowly at first. Every piece of meat, every bit of vegetable gets a slight reconnaissance bite, obviously intended to check for traps. Razors, needles, bits of glass… He must have known the feeling of them ripping into his mouth well. Only after testing a respectable portion of the meal does he pick up the pace, soon carelessly gobbling up bite after bite of various delicacies. It's then, as Miko sees his aggressive appetite, that she realises something - not once during his entire stay so far did he ask for food. What he ate now was multiple times the amount he got for breakfast, even for dinner! Did she… Miko hits her thigh with her fist under the table. Stupid, she says in her mind, of course he'd need more! He's clearly weak, injured, on the mental verge and, above all, male! Of course he would need adequate nourishment…
“Factorial.” She says, keeping her voice calm. “If you were so hungry, why didn't you tell me?”
He responds between bites of onigiri, making sure to not let a single grain of rice escape his jaws. “I know that I don't get food if I don't work. And you didn't give me work…” Factorial glances at her shyly. “I-I wouldn't mind if you got me to do something for you, Miko… I don't want to be a…”
He hesitates for a moment, seemingly considering whether his tablefellow would appreciate that word. “... A parasite.”
Miko smiles, having already thought of a response for this type of inquiry. “Tut, tut, tut. Have you forgotten, Factorial? I will decide your purpose here. It doesn't matter what your previous… Owner…” It's hard to say that word, hard to even imply she is like Matsui. “...Made you do. I decree that you need to be as healthy and happy as possible. Do not concern your adorable, fluffy head with the reason. You wouldn't understand.”
“Yes, Miko.” He nods, looking at the floor. “I'm a stupid dog, I wouldn't understand.”
The woman frowns and opens her mouth to protest, before realising that contesting this notion would be pointless - for now, at least. “Sure, sure. And so I demand that you tell me about everything that troubles you. I want to know when you are hungry, thirsty, in pain or sad. No exceptions. Otherwise, if I find you are hiding anything, you will be punished. Did I make myself clear, little one?”
Flashed with Miko's signature look demanding obedience, Factorial shudders. “Yes, Miko.”
She acknowledges his obedience with a hum. It felt strange, intimidating him like this, but that is the language he understands the best. A clear and concise power dynamic, packed with threats of agony, is - bizarrely - what could make him feel more comfortable, she thought. Miko couldn't shake the feeling that he seemed happier under Matsui, as bizarre as the idea is. He was smiling, he was playing, he was enjoying himself even, despite the abuse woven into his daily existence. She glances at his face; his lips are as straight as possible in a conscious attempt to hide his clear enjoyment of the food, rendered meaningless due to the involuntary happy twitches from his tails.
It's incredible, now that she thinks of it. She's not sure when the scene she witnessed took place, but there was no residual sign of the torture. His face was even, smooth, unmarred. It was hard to believe Factorial ever went through that. That he ever had his face burnt with boiling water and cheeks partially peeled like a steamed tomato. There weren't even any lines that would indicate it happened… Truly impressive is the kitsune body, able to heal these injuries so well… Or it's just the magic used by his abuser to keep her toy primed for the next indulgence. The latter must have been the result of centuries of experience in recovery. Was Matsui a doctor? A surgeon? Better than Miko at this, no doubt. She must have been respected and powerful - with other's health and even life in her hands, her reach would extend beyond just the shrine. Perhaps, with Factorial already here, she could practice her healing a little…
“All done, Miko. Thank you for the meal.” Factorial's voice rips her train of thought right off. Miko shakes her head to clear the remnants of her scandalous idea. How could this have even come to her? She had it in herself to be seriously malicious in thought, but never like this. Logically Factorial should evoke feelings of sympathy - which were there, admittedly - not questions of how to best use him.
She sweeps the table with her eyes to find that he ate roughly two plates worth of rice, smoked tuna and raw sliced vegetables. A very modest meal, all in all. Factorial now sat with his hands politely on his lap, looking down at his empty plate. There is a subtle, concealed smile on his lips. He looks satisfied. “How do you feel, Factorial?”
He replies immediately. “I feel grateful. It's the best meal I had in a long time and my belly is full.”
Is it really, Miko asks herself. Maybe these kinds of foods were his reward? She sighs; if something as plain as rice is considered a prize food, what was the standard nourishment? Dead mice? Moss soup? Nutritional slurry? He didn't even eat that much, not for someone half starved like him. Before she can articulate her doubts, she hears him whisper something.
“No, mistress wouldn't like that…” He says, but not to Miko or himself. Factorial sounds unsure, but his tone is interrogative, prompting for an answer. She furrows her brow.
“Miko wouldn't like what, little one?” The priestess, seeing Factorial's face flash with fear, regrets not biting her tongue. Well, might as well go for it, she thinks. “Tell me.”
“I… I… M-my friend… He said that I should not e-eat so much… But…” He toys with his hands, nervous as he slinks down, making himself smaller. “You told me to… To eat as much as I wanted… Right, Miko?”
Seeing her nod, he lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding. “I have, yes. Although it seems your friend, who I'm sure you will introduce shortly, didn't catch it.”
Factorial looks around, avoiding her eyes more intensely than usual. The fox seems nervous. “I… He's not real, Miko… I'm sick in the h-head…” These words sound disingenuous, it's clearly something he is repeating after Matsui. “I'm b-broken and ret-”
Miko cuts him off with a move of her hand, making him flinch and fall quiet. “I asked you to introduce him, not parrot what you've been told about him by your former ‘wife’. I'm interested in you, Factorial, not her.”
“His name is Mister Carrot…” He blurts out quickly. Miko's sternness morphs into surprise. “And he's my best friend.”
It's that toy, the stuffed carrot she saw in his memory. The one Matsui and her cronies used to torture him, the very same he gave himself for.
“I think I happen to know him. He's a distinguished gentleman.” She says with an unsuppressed smile, unable to not find the image of him cuddling the plush amusing.
Factorial's expression shifts - he was tense just a moment before, but now he bears a softer look. His eyes open wider, letting Miko see the gloomy, monochromatic irises in the centres of his gentle eyes. They jump between her silhouette and everything around as Factorial thinks. He bites his lip, visibly asking himself what to do with this information.
“You called to him in your sleep”, Miko lies without batting an eyelid. “That's how I know. He must be a very kind and well behaved carrot to be your friend. But I've yet to know how he looks like~”
Miko feels her heart skip a beat when she sees it for the first time; instead of going down or back up to an unremarkable middle position, his ears perk up. They're shorter than hers by about half and much more rounded in shape. Cute. Almost like the ones general puppy has. What's even better is Factorial's careful glance at her eyes, asking for permission to speak, which she issues with a nod. He starts explaining, timidly at first, how mister Carrot appears: he's orange with small, darker lines throughout, he's got little hands and feet, green leaves for hair and black eyes and they're cute and he's always smiling-
“I love him very much, Miko. He's my best friend.” He finishes, smiling and giving her something truly special - a glance, if quick, to meet her eyes.
Miko picks out a dice of tofu from her soup with her chopsticks. “I'd love to meet him, Factorial.”
The white fox falls silent; his eyes wander around the room as he thinks, tips of his ears pointing to the ground again. “I don't… Know where he is right now”, he says, voice choked and on the verge. “I remember I had him not long ago… And he was broken.”
Miko looks up from her bowl in alarm. “By whom?” Stupid question. Isn't it obvious? The only response she receives is a quiet sniffle. Slowly, Miko gets up from her seat and, ever so carefully, makes her way towards him. Factorial hangs his head further, now wrapping his arms around his torso. They move in a gentle, soothing rhythm. She kneels down besides his chair, getting on eye level with him. He is looking away, clutching himself tighter, hiding his face behind dirty, messy hair. Miko places her hand on his shoulder.
“I h-ad a d-dream tonight… That I ran a-away… To bury him… In a- a big, blue f-forest… I put him in the g-g-gr… Ground… He's dead… Now I… Now I have… Nob-body and I tried to… H-hurt m-myself a-and…”
Tears roll down his face like rivulets, curving with the shape of his cheeks. Factorial hugs himself, leaning ever more forward, curling in on himself. With his ears flat against his head he is small. The white kimono hangs so loosely that he seems naught but a child, swamped with fabric, doing their best to hide in it. Miko reaches out, gently taking his wrist. Factorial doesn't pull away.
“And I w-wanted to hurt you and I'm s-s-sorry, f-for thi- thinking that I’m ba-bad dog-g…” His hands now clutch his face tightly, covering it in shame and regret. He is shaking with each breath; more like spasming with emotions. She spots his nails raking at his cheeks and temple, dragging the soft wooden implants along his pale skin in a vain attempt at harm. Miko cannot take the sight - she snaps her arms around him and brings the sobbing fox close to her chest.
A dream. What was the word Mizuki used… Dissociation, was it? When the mind can not accept the truth, fearing the consequences so strongly that it rips from the waking world, pushing away thoughts and feelings in a faint hope that they'll just… Go away, vanish to the darkest recess of the mind. For him a stunt like that would mean death - if not of the body, then of whatever remnant of personhood he has left. To avoid future incidents like that, he would be broken, tortured, maimed so thoroughly that his mind could not even suggest a likewise heretical idea. The shackle would be twisted so tight around his brain that, blackened and shriveled, it would not function without the restraints.
He'd rather await punishment, blissfully unaware of the truth, than dwell on his coming fate before he has to. Really, what could she even do to him? No torture she could ever think of would be new to him, she had not the malignant creativity Matsui possessed. Why, then, would he… There - revelation. Like catching a teacup about to hit the ground, like sidestepping a death trap. He's in denial about herself too, he has not accepted the thought that she isn't Matsui even in the waking world… And yet, at the same time, he is lost and confused, does things he wouldn't dare do with her. Stuck in a liminal labyrinth of emotion.
Perhaps it was better, for now, to go with that story. The first priority was not honesty. If he could not be made to understand that on his own, and forcing him would risk fracturing the delicate remnants of his mind, he needed change. He needed someone who he could undeniably and easily separate from Matsui. He needed a male caretaker.
“Shh…” Miko whispers softly. “Let it out, little one… But don't scratch yourself.”
He swallows and whimpers out a reply. “I-I… I don't k-know… W-wha-what else to d-d-do…” Miko twitches in surprise when he clasps himself around her, instinctively seeking comfort so desperately - even from a future abuser like any other in his mind…
The priestess brings his head deeper towards her torso, resting her head over his. She hugs him tightly. All she wants to do is hide him, conceal him from everything. Give him a safe spot, somewhere. She knows she is not the best - she's female, but she's the only one that understands him. The only one he can relate to. His body feels small against her, quite different from what she would expect. Factorial is barely warmer than the room around him. So weak…
“Breathe, my little fox. You're shaking like a leaf.” Miko strokes his hair fondly, gliding her hands between his flat ears. “I wouldn't want you to be blown away by the wind…”
Even without words she can tell he is listening to her: his sobs slow down, measured into longer, more orderly cries now. Further instructions come - Inhale. Exhale. Praise too. Good job, you're doing it. Eventually, under her guidance, his breathing slows down and his despair weakens enough to allow him speech.
“I'm sorry… I'm sorry… For being like this…” He tries to pull away, but Miko holds him close. “For thinking of being bad… For crying… For touching you… For being a nuisance…”
For being alive. For daring to have feelings.
With the most careful of nudges Miko prompts Factorial to look up at her. His eyes are fogged by teary mist, an image of misery even more potent than before. She delicately rubs a fresh tear off his cheek. “What have you done to the world, to have it curse you with such a fate…?”
He doesn't seem to understand; he just nods in agreement as he was taught, sniffling. Miko hesitates, thinking about something. Would it hurt, if she… She just wants to… Her lips find their way to his pale forehead. He closes his eyes as she does, hugging her deeper.
“I'll find him, Factorial. Don't worry. I'll bring Mr. Carrot back home.”
“H-how will you do that, Miko?”
“Somehow”, she replies. “I have my ways, make no mistake.” She gently pats him and, at last, allows him space to pull back. He looks expectedly shaken; he resorts to holding himself meekly, eyes wet and nose still stuffy. Miko gets up, frowning at the pain in her legs from half-kneeling for so long in such an awkward position.
“Mhm, I am getting old, am I not? Oh, to be a kit such as your…” She trails off, glancing back at the one tail he has over her. Her skin crawls at the reminder that, despite his youthful appearance and behaviour, he is her senior. To live like him for so long… “Ah, nothing. I just wished I was as vital as you, dear Factorial.”
“But… You are stronger than me.” He looks at her, slightly puzzled. Miko raises her eyebrow. Well, he did look rather lithe. Nothing a proper diet and happiness won't fix, that doctor will see to it, she's sure.
“My, you flatter me. It will get you everywhere, my cute guest.” Factorial looks as confused as ever. Perhaps that's a discussion for later. Miko heads towards the corridor. “Preferably in a bath in the near hour. Asako? Please run a bath for the little one.”
“Yes, Lady Miko!” Her maid calls out from the other side of the house.
“Ooh!” She hears him exclaim from behind. “Bath? Really? Do I get a bath today?”
He's cute, this one. Feeling joy at the simplest of things. “Indeed. It will be the best bath you'll ever have, Factorial.” Miko gestures for him to come closer; the male wipes his eyes with his sleeve and rushes over, barefoot. “You'll have lots of bubbles, colorful water and floating toys. I'll get you back to being the prettiest boy in all of Teyvat, you'll see.”
“Yes! Yes!” Miko smiles as he spins around, tails flicking and shaking in excitement. “Thank you Miko! Will it be warm too?”
“It will be, rest assured.” She glances towards her room, already considering how she will phrase her requests to her head of staff. “Preparations will take some time, however, so please relax in your bedroom. I'll call you when it's ready.”
“Of course! Thank you!” He skitters quickly into the opening of his room, leaving a cloud of white hairs dancing in the air behind him. Looks like her tail brush will see more action than usual.
Miko sends him off with an elegant, subtle smile. Perhaps ‘dog’ is quite fitting of a term, all things considered. Her expression fades slowly as she makes her way to the staff dayroom where the head maid, Aiko, was usually available. Indeed - Miko finds the woman sitting on a zaisu, drinking tea. Her entrance causes the human to raise up gracefully and bow.
“Guuji-sama.”
“Aiko, I have inquiries and requests.” Miko crosses her arms over her chest. “First of all, have the supplies for tomorrow's reception been purchased?”
“I have seen it done, Guuji-sama. Even the edible gold for your wagashi is ready. The gifts - green tea, one hundred sheets of paper and twelve bottles of ink - have been packaged and prepared for our visitors.” The maid says with confidence. “There are three complete sets of daywear as well as two night gowns ready for Factorial-san.”
“Excellent. What about Changsheng? Has the pyroclastic stone reached you yet?”
“Not yet, Lady Guuji. It is planned to arrive tomorrow morning with the first shipment of the day.”
Miko tuts, stepping closer to Aiko. She lifts a finger and brings it close to the shorter woman's nose. “It better be on time. You wouldn't want to expose your beloved Yae Miko the beautiful in front of foreign deities, would you?”
Aiko smiles. “Never, Guuji-sama.”
The kitsune runs her fingers over her maid's cheek and off, passing by her. Her teasing, while leaving the experienced human completely indifferent, was quite refreshing. It was nice to be herself without the constant accusatory words hanging over her. Touching Factorial like this felt deeply wrong, even if it meant no harm. How fortunate that Aiko had the patience to put up with her shenanigans, and - crucially - the capability of differentiating serious intention and play. “Good. Have one set of day clothes brought to the bathroom, he will need them. Now, I have a peculiar thing to ask of you.”
Her tone grows more serious; she sighs. “Factorial has lost something very important to him - something I wish to locate. However, I can only do so with the noses of my envoys.” Her own nose, in reality, but wasn't her body an envoy of her mind? Details, details. “When you pick up the old clothes, bring me the…” Kimono? No. It's too heavy for her to carry around in her mouth when she turns, and he wears it so loosely that no sweat can ever gather there. Socks? Perfect size, if he wore any. That leaves… Ugh. At least she'll be a pervert for a good cause. “...Undergarments, yes. They will have a scent trail strong enough for the foxes to follow.”
Almost immediately the guuji regrets her decisions when Aiko flashes her a look of mischievous cunning. “I'm sure it will suffice, Lady Guuji. Would you like me to turn off the lanterns tonight? It shall surely give the envoys more confidence. I heard foxes are such shy creatures.”
The Yae fox pouts ever so slightly. Her ears tug down a little. “Mhm. And finally pack a week's worth of luggage for Factorial. Clothes, personal hygiene implements, the like.”
Aiko abruptly stops smiling. “Guuji-sama… Is he leaving?”
Miko bites her lip.
She's not fond of what she has to do either.
But he'll have a better chance at a normal life under Baizhu.
Thanks for reading!