Kuro clenched his five remaining mochi tight to his chest. He refused to give the Cat Girl the satisfaction of dropping even one.

The retainers charged. He was so close to a safe foxhole, if only the retainers and their swords hadn’t been between them. Kuro whirled and dashed back toward the labyrinth of humans who’d happily stomp on him.

If the retainers caught him, they wouldn’t bother with arresting him. They grovelled at the feet of a mere boy, but by virtue of being able to carry a sword, they were too high-ranked to defile themselves with such lowly work. Samurai hired commoners for that. Instead, they’d use him to test the sharpness of his swords and leave his body for the Undesirables to collect.

Kuro gritted his teeth. He’d never let that happen. He was too clever, even with the Cat Girl machinating against him.

He still had the Riverbank Settlement, and the safe foxholes it promised. The retainers had forced him off the trail, but if he navigated them just right, he’d hit the riverbank.

He ducked around the corner.

“Sh—” Kuro clenched his jaw. Cursing wouldn’t help. He slid to a stop. Dead end. Garden walls striped with planks surrounded him. The planks would make it a little easier to climb, but who was Kuro kidding? In his human form, he’d only sidle up halfway before gravity shoved him back down.

A maple branch leaned over the wall, too high for him to jump and grab. The maple spilled red leaves over the road, but the piles against the garden wall were too sparse for him to hide under. The one-story storehouse behind the wall, for all its bronze roof ornaments, was equally useless.

Sandals pounded like taiko drums, each beat reverberating in Kuro’s chest. He had moments before the retainers cornered him.

Hugging the mochi to his chest, he dug through the leaves piled against the walls. Any hole would do, even a rat hole. He’d somehow make it work. But the stupid human owners kept their walls in good repair.

Kuro had one trick left. With his free hand, he grabbed a fistful of maple leaves, leaving one on his head and stuffing the rest in his kimono collar.

Kuro transformed. White smoke exploded around him, hiding his long faded kimono, and human arms and legs, and black hair, and weird, flat human ears. When the smoke cleared, he wore a maroon silk kimono tied with a gold obi, the perfect autumn ensemble.

He also wasn’t male anymore, but a young woman with black hair whisked up into a married woman’s hairstyle.

The retainers entered the alley. Kuro lifted her chin, examining them as they gave her her first good look at them.

“Madam.” The first retainer bowed to her, his squat face bulging with what was probably supposed to be respect.

The second retainer sneered, his moustache twitching like a caterpillar attempting to flee him, before he too bobbed his head.

Kuro covered her mouth with her sleeve, her other arm clasping the mochi beneath her bosom. “Oh my, oh my. What could two fine samurai be doing racing around?”

“Unfortunately, a dangerous culprit has entered this neighbourhood.”

Kuro gasped. “A demon?”

“Thankfully, only a human,” Mister Squash said. “But he has embarrassed our lordship.”

“Oh my,” she repeated. “I did notice a very poor boy run that way.” She gestured to the nearest crossroad.

The two retainers bowed again, and Mister Squash thanked her. He followed Mister Caterpillar to the crossroads.

She waited until they disappeared from sight and hearing before smirking. “Stupid humans, falling for the oldest trick in the book.”

She flipped a mochi cake in her hand.

“Is your tail supposed to be sticking out like that?” a voice asked.

From head to tail, Kuro bristled in shock. Wait, tail? She twisted to examine her rear. A black fox tail wagged at her.

As blood drained from her face, her tail stuck straight out, fur bristling. This was why transformations were her last resort. She never managed to keep her tail hidden, except in her one usual human form.

She could never let anyone see her fur.

Except someone had seen.

She raised her eyes to the storehouse roof. How had she missed him before?

A male knelt on the roof tiles, a cloth bundle extending over his shoulder. A sword? But he had a full head of hair, tied back in a queue as if playing the part of a samurai. He couldn’t have been much older than the boy-samurai, with those too-wide brown eyes of his. Too young for a samurai’s top knot?

No, it couldn’t be a sword and he couldn’t be human. Humans didn’t crawl around on roofs, and they didn’t smile at spirits. They certainly would never allow Kuro to live.

The male raised a hand in greeting. “Good afternoon.”

Human, samurai or spirit?

Did it matter? All three would despise her for her black tail. The male would call the samurai and their dogs. She could run all the way to the northern edge of the empire and they’d never stop the hunt.

All because her adult coat had turned black instead of white.

The human smiled down at her, brown eyes glittering as if struck by a thousand stars.

Why was he smiling? What foulness was he planning?

Kuro laid a leaf upon her head and transformed back into his usual tailless form.

“They’re coming back,” the male said. “Probably wondering why a housewife was carrying around so many mochi in her sleeves.”

Kuro cocked his ear. The clatter of sandals grew closer once again. His disguise wouldn’t work a second time, not with this human ready to alert the retainers.

The male leaned over the gutters. “Grab on.” He extended his hand as if he actually expected Kuro to take it.

Kuro bared his teeth. The male would probably drop him in the retainers’ laps, while all three laughed at him.

But a hole in the fence hadn’t magically appeared. The maple hadn’t lowered its branch. The retainers closed in. He could try to dodge the retainers before they struck. He squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering. He didn’t like his chances.

His only possible hope was the human. Kuro reached for his hand.