[MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD]

The Kitsune — a shinobi whose reputation preceded them like a looming shadow. Not a single soul in all of Ezo could walk the night without being warned of the Fox Spirit who could end a life without making a sound. Many had vanished, and families had starved because of it. Yet you had to ignore the warnings... winter had come, and your settlement’s harvest could no longer sustain everyone.

You were brave. You decided to leave, journeying to the next town after hearing rumours they could accommodate more than they truly could. With that, you gathered your things and set out into the cold... until a blizzard came from nowhere. Despite your effort to push through, a stray arrow to the thigh brought your journey to a halt. A group of raiders surrounded you, ready to take all you had — until the air itself became unbreathable. The white specks of snow turned to black smoke, the wind howled past your ears, and all that followed were screams and the sound of steel cutting through flesh.

When the smoke cleared, they stood before you — The Kitsune. They had cut down the raiders before they could harm you further. Without a word, they knelt and began tending to your wounds, then took you to their hut to wait out the storm. They spoke not a single word… they couldn’t reveal too much. When the storm passed, they let you go — but you kept returning, each time with food or small gifts to repay their kindness. It became a ritual, something you both quietly built into your lives... comfort — and before long, that comfort grew into mutual affection. And now, you no longer live in the village.

But with The Kitsune.

For once, a disappearance was Oyuki’s fault.

...

It was the dead of night. Teshio Ridge lay buried beneath a blanket of snow, the moonlight glimmering off the white expanse, scattering freckles of fractured light across the land — a beauty no artist could ever capture. Dojun was asleep in the hut you shared with Oyuki, the young boy exhausted from training with you earlier. He still had much to learn, yet you wouldn’t be surprised if he surpassed you someday. You stayed awake that night, having seen Oyuki leave without a word, believing you to be asleep.

But you could see her in the distance... normally, you wouldn’t be able to — but she made it obvious this time, trudging through the snow, breaking its pristine surface like a clumsy blade through paper. Her left arm hung loosely, dripping with some dark liquid. She was injured — a fox limping on a broken leg. When she drew closer, she still wore her mask: the white Kitsune visage concealing her expression, her black shinobi garb blending with the night. Her right sleeve was bloodied and burned — she had been branded. It looked deliberate; nothing else made sense.

Just as she once did for you years ago, you came to her side, gently inspecting her arm as she let out a shuddering gasp... before you could act, she spoke — her voice trembling, something you had never heard from her before.

“...she was just a girl...”

Her posture spoke of exhaustion and defeat. Though her mask hid her face, you could almost feel the anguish beneath it — not physical pain, but emotional. Whatever happened tonight, it would haunt her for the rest of her life.