“You know not what you provoke, mortals.” Kuro waved his arms, trying to look as intimidating as a Night Parade demon. “Release me!”

Where was Ren? Kuro searched through the crowd of samurai for one top-knot-less head. Ren had thrown himself at the retainers to save some nameless girl. Why wasn’t he jumping in now?

A samurai unwound a length of leash. His dog jumped forward, jaws snapping at Kuro. Kuro jumped, arms hugging his chest as he whined.

The roar of samurai laughter almost drowned out the dogs’ yapping.

“Oh, we heard,” Mister Squash said. “A black fox, they said.”

“We’ll snuff you out soon enough,” Mister Caterpillar said, “before you destroy us all.”

Kuro’s lips pulled back from his teeth, his arms spread out wide. His eyes flickered from motion to motion from the crowd.

Ren wasn’t coming to save him. If his jaw had worked, Kuro would have yelled at himself for being an idiot fox. Even a fool like Ren wouldn’t jump in to save a spirit. A few moments of kindness didn’t change that.

Kuro had only himself. But that was fine. He didn’t need anyone else.

Kuro leapt into the air. He snapped his fingers, calling upon his fox-fire, that most powerful blue flame that haunted humans to their deaths.

A puff of fox-fire sprang up. The wind snuffed it out.

Kuro landed in a crouch, staring at the wisp of smoke.

The samurai stared too. Kuro launched himself to the side, but the dogs didn’t care about a measly flame. They smelled fox. They barked and jumped between Kuro and freedom.

Kuro yipped and stumbled back.

The samurai laughed. They were playing with him, some sick game before they loosed their dogs to bite Kuro to death.

Kuro landed on all fours, twitching his head from left to right, searching for any opening.

“Look at it.”

“—Pathetic—”

“—Teach it—”

“Kill it!”

So many human voices lilting with glee. Once they freed their dogs, they’d all shoving each other for a better view of his murder.

Kuro withdrew another leaf from his kimono collar. If his fox-fire refused to obey him, then he’d transform into a scarier demon. One that wasn’t a fox.

He slapped the leaf to his forehead, clapped and transformed into an ogre’s head. A giant green-tinted head taller than a human, that bounced around on its neck. Oh, and the gravestone-sized teeth that tore humans in half in one bloody bite.

He bounced himself forward, baring his teeth. His white mane flowed behind him. The commoners behind the samurai screamed and fled.

This was going to work. Kuro wasn’t going to die.

But the samurai’s feet remained planted. They released the leashes. The dogs — those stupid canines without any proper sense of fear toward a frightening demon — leapt forward, snapping their jaws.

Kuro screamed. The transformation broke in wisps of smoke, leaving only a fox in boy-form behind.

The dogs snapped at his hands and legs. Kuro scrambled back, his feet stumbling underneath him. He nearly fell three times before he managed to turn himself around to run away.

He ran straight into more dogs. Their samurai masters snapped their leashes, urging them to bark.

Kuro tripped over his own feet. He crashed to the ground. His shoulders shook. He covered his head and curled his legs around his belly. As if such a pitiful position would protect him from dogs.

“WAIT!” a female voice screamed.

Kuro trembled on the ground. A scent like the air after a lightning strike broke through the mass of human sweat and dog.

“Get out of the way, girl,” Mister Caterpillar ordered her. “Or we’ll be taking in two ‘foxes.’”

The girl from before! Kuro peeked out from under his arm. The girl that Ren had saved, that had stared at Kuro with such hatred, now stood between Kuro and the dogs. The samurai had taken up the dogs’ leashes once again.

She had come to save Kuro? But she despised demons.

“T-this is a Dark Kitsune,” the girl said.

“Which is why you should remove yourself.”

The girl shook her head. “T-the o-onmyouji—”

“Speak properly, girl, or get out of the way.”

The girl straightened, her shoulders rising about her ears and her hands fisted at her sides. “You can’t kill it.”

“I assure you, we can,” Mister Caterpillar said. “After we enjoy ourselves.”

Kuro jerked, phantom fangs prickling his skin. Meaning they’d let their dogs savage him.

“Y-you must report it to the S-shogun’s—”

“W-we just have to kill it,” Mister Caterpillar said, mocking her stutter.

The girl winced. From her robes, she withdrew a wooden tablet. A frightening tablet by the way the samurai straightened and clenched their jaws. “The Shogun’s onmyouji will have your heads if you don’t deliver it to him.”

No, it couldn’t be. Not that.

Mister Caterpillar had no reply. He glanced to Mister Squash.

The samurai with them held up a hand. “Hold your dogs.”

The other samurai obeyed, pulling on the leashes and signalling the dogs to calm down.

This was Kuro’s chance. He scrambled to his feet and darted for the nearest break in samurai. Commoners crowded the area, but if he could only bulldoze his way through—

The commoners had their own weapons. They chucked stones at Kuro, driving him back with arms raised over his head for protection. He whirled to try another way, but the girl stepped in his way. She sneered at him, eyes as hateful as before. Kuro tried to shove her away, but she punched him in the temple.

Spiritual power electrified him. His knees buckled. Unable to stop himself, he collapsed. His arms felt like gruel, but he had to get up. He had to get away.

Better to be mauled by the dogs than thrown to the onmyouji.

He slid his hands up to his shoulders and raised his head just in time to see her lacquered sandal flying at his head.