The stray dogs’ incessant barking snapped at Kuro’s spine as he and Ren raced up the river.

Trying to lose the dogs in the city was pointless. They’d only sniff him out. But so was trying to outrun them. Like that other pox called samurai, dogs were endurance hunters. They’d chase him until he stumbled from exhaustion. Then— Kuro shuddered at phantom bites tearing at his neck.

The red-lacquered torii gate and bridge leading to the Dragon God’s shrine rose around the corner. On top of the bank,the Imperial Palace walls loomed above the artisan residences. Kuro didn’t need to glance back at the dogs or see up ahead. They were running out of shoreline, and swimming across the river just begged for arrows in the back.

Kuro swore under his breath and scooped up a handful of rotten fish from his kimono. He really hoped this worked. He spun to the side, losing precious distance between him and the dogs, and chucked the fish at the river. “Go get it, you stupid mutts!”

The dogs snapped their jaws at him, but careened into the river. The waves crashed against them and they struggled against the current.

“Ha!” Kuro jabbed a finger at them.

One dog managed to paddle back to shore, even as the other was swept back to the Riverbank Settlement.

Kuro’s eyes bulged, and he tensed, ready to flee. The dog whimpered, tucking his tail between his legs, and scampered after its friend. Even mutts had someone who cared about them. Only Kuro was completely alone.

Shrugging that thought off as stupid, Kuro leaned against the torii pillar and gasped for breath. Two scraps left. He peeled them off. Such a waste.

Ren had kept running past the bridge, but after Kuro’s breathing evened out, Ren trotted back to him and collapsed against the other side of the pillar. “What was that?”

“Dogs.” Kuro cupped the scraps in his hand and peered at the shrine for signs of the Dragon God’s displeasure. Humans no doubt thought the floating palace the lowliest of the four main shrines. Unlike the palatial shrines of Inari or even the condensed one-room shrine of the Storm God’s Eastern Shrine, only a few wooden bridges connected four miniature shrines. Even weak local gods had bigger shrines sitting next to the roads.

Then again, humans were probably so stupid as to think that shrines were made for their use. The Dragon God, like most dragons, loved his treasure and hated thieves. So the dragon hid his main shrine beneath the waves. And why not? He and his familiars all had gills. He probably wouldn’t have bothered with anything upon the land if he hadn’t needed human worshippers. So he gave them a few places to leave their coins and pray for temperate weather, and a bridge to reach his domain.

Kuro narrowed his eyes. Claw marks bit deep into the bridge pillar and rails. A fang mark pierced another rail. The demons grew bold. Kuro clenched his jaw. Even if the Dragon God was wise enough to know the neutral spirits hiding on his shores weren’t responsible, the humans would certainly blame them. Just like those two Undesirable women who should have known better. They lived alongside neutral spirits.

“Really?” Ren laughed.

“Dogs are not funny.”

Ren leaned around the torii pillar to grin up at Kuro. “You think I don’t know what a dog is.”

Kuro wrinkled his nose. “Then don’t ask stupid questions.”

Ren leaned his head back on the tree. “They thought we were demons.”

Kuro grunted.

“They live right next to the Eastern Barrier.”

Not more of this nonsense. If the Undesirables tainted the barrier with their presence, as so many humans assumed, then the Dragon God would have drowned them years ago.

“Demons sneak through, so it seems like the Undesirables are involved.” He nodded to himself.

“If you’re blind and deaf. But that does describe every human I’ve ever encountered.”

Ren chuckled. He picked the fish scraps clinging to his indigo robes and dropped them on the dirt.

“Oi!” Kuro shoved himself up. “What are you doing?”

Ren paused mid-pluck.

Kuro dropped into a squat and picked up the discarded fish. When he stood, Ren’s eyebrow shot up. Kuro plucked the remaining shreds from him.

“Thank you?”

Kuro trotted to a loamy spot on the slope. With his empty hand, he dug into the soil.

“Is that…” Ren trailed off. “A protection charm?”

“Charm?”

“Burying rotten fish in a shrine.”

“The shrine’s over there.” Without rising, he pointed back at the torii gate, then returned to digging. He dropped two scraps into the hole, and piled dirt on top. He patted the soil to smother the scent and spread leaves until no trace of a disturbance remained. The perfect camouflage. “If humans want to waste their food pelting me, I’m happy enough to take it.”

Kuro trotted along the slope.

Ren followed more slowly. “You’re not going to… eat that, are you?”

“Of course I am.” He repeated the process. He had at least three caches worth of fish scraps.

“But it’s rotten!”

“Oh ho ho, listen to the spoiled little human.”

“I’m not—”

Kuro finished his cache and straightened. “Then buy me food.”

“I don’t—”

“Have any money. Then don’t complain about what I eat.”

Ren stared between the two caches.

“Don’t do that. You’ll alert every spirit and stray dog to where my caches are.”

Ren wrinkled his nose, mouth opening just enough for the tip of his tongue to jut out past his teeth.

“No one’s forcing you to stay,” Kuro reminded him. “You keep stalking me. So go back to your castle now.”

Ren stiffened and grimaced. Interesting.

But when Kuro moved to the next cache site — two on the slope, so one should be further away — Ren still dogged him. Kuro sighed. He never should have fed the human.

Kuro dropped the last bits into the hole. “What now?”

“Come with me.”

Kuro tilted his head. “Where?” He wouldn’t say no to a visit to this supposed estate, or whatever rich household Ren came from where he turned his nose up at free food. Except the place would be crawling with humans.

“Just… around.”

“I’m busy.”

“I need your help.”

Ren needed someone to whack him again over the head. Maybe it would restore his wits. “Unless you need help spending your money or eating your food…”

“I keep telling you—”

“Sure, sure.” He waved his hand. Unlike Nurarihyon, Kuro didn’t bother to hide its condescending nature.

“However…” He stared at the hole. “If you help me, there could be a reward in it for you.”

“Says the human without a sen.”

“The Shogun will reward you handsomely.” Like every other ludicrous statement he’d given, he sounded certain.

“Oh?” Kuro crossed his arms. “I did not realise the connections of a servant from a third-rank samurai family were so lofty.”

“I don’t have to know him personally to know that.” Ren’s voice was too high as he attempted to rescue his pride. “And everyone knows the Sun Prince would also be more than happy to reward you for your time.”

Again with the Sun Prince. “All right.” Kuro bent over at the waist and shoved dirt back into the cache hole.

“Really?” A smile peeked out of his serious chin.

“I’ll show you one more thing,” Kuro said. “I’ll even do it out of the kindness of my heart.”

With Ren bouncing on his toes in his eagerness to express his thanks, Kuro almost felt a little bad. Almost.