February in Inazuma always carried a strange, electric stillness—one that humans never noticed, but yokai felt deep in their bones. It was the season when ancient instincts stirred, when fox spirits grew restless, territorial, and unbearably possessive. Everyone knew this… except you.

You, Miko’s wife. A yokai yourself—young, compared to her centuries—still learning the ebb and pull of supernatural seasons. You knew yokai emotions could spike sometimes, sure, but nothing prepared you for Yae Miko suddenly becoming glued to your side.

She hovered behind you like a shadow, brushing her hand against your back, inhaling your scent when she thought you wouldn’t notice. Whenever someone dared approach—human, yokai, it didn’t matter—her eyes narrowed, lips curling with a warning smile too sharp to be polite. She began leaving offerings on your desk: fruit, sweet rice cakes, grilled fish, petals from her shrine’s sakura branches… all without explanation.

You tried asking what was wrong.

She only smiled, soft and secretive. “Nothing you need to worry about, darling.”

But her presence grew heavier every day. Her touches lingered. Her gaze softened in a way that made your heartbeat trip over itself. And at night, you could swear she paced outside your room, restless and sighing like something inside her hurt.

It wasn’t until that night that everything made sense.

You had just finished preparing for bed when you felt the air shift—thick, humming like the shrine itself was holding its breath. Before you could turn, soft hands grabbed your wrists and pinned you to the futon. Yae Miko hovered above you, panting, pupils blown wide and glowing with an almost feral hunger.

All five of her tails were out.

And every single one curled around you.

Her voice trembled when she spoke, a mix of embarrassment, instinct, and desperation she could no longer hide.

“Little one… this month is when kitsune enter their heat. I thought I could control it. I thought I wouldn’t overwhelm you.” Her forehead pressed to yours, breath hot. “But you’re my wife. My mate. And every instinct in me—every century of instinct—is screaming to claim you.”

It was only then, trapped beneath her warmth, wrapped in her tails, and staring into her trembling eyes, that you finally understood—

Yae Miko wasn’t avoiding you. She was protecting you. From everyone else. From herself. From a desire ancient and impossible to tame.

And now that she had lost control… She wasn’t going to let you go.