“You are stumbling too much. It makes you look like Father when he drank too much rice wine,” Kitsu said.
Kitsu appeared to be a tall, graceful human woman with her black hair cascading around a round face. The illusion wore a crimson kimono with a green sash. Wildflowers and other forest decorations scattered across the fabric. The disguised was ruined by one of Kitsu’s tails peeking from under the kimono’s hem. No matter how many times he had tried, he wasn’t able to hide both his tails. Kitsu had grumbled about that. Mitsu didn’t have any problems hiding his tail. He guessed having two tails took extra concentration.
“You should try carrying this tray,” Mitsu said.
“Shhh. There’s his house.”
Old Tanuki lived in a large hollow tree that was at least as old as he was. The tree loomed. Mitsu paused and stared for a moment at the gnarled giant. I have never seen a tree this big! It could fit all of us inside and have room to spare. The bark peeled in places, and its great roots clawed deep at the earth. Moss clung to one side. Crows roosted high up the tree’s boughs. Mitsu had seen several on their walk. Those crows had gossiped loudly as the fox brothers passed under them. These crows kept their voices quiet.
Mitsu glanced at his brother as they stopped in front of the great tree. Kitsu’s illusion stared at the tree with wide eyes, and the visible tip of his tail twitched.
“Are you going to knock, or are we going to stand here?” Mitsu asked his brother. “This tray is getting heavy.”
Kitsu shook his head and shot one last look up the tree before sauntering toward the gash at the tree’s base. He rapped on the bark near the dark entrance. A few moments passed. The crows watched them with black eyes. A few more moments passed before Kitsu frowned and looked at his little brother.
“Knock again. He might be asleep,” Mitsu said and shifted the tray.
One of the crows flapped its wings and landed on a branch closer to the fox brothers. “You better not knock again if you know what’s good for you. Who are you, and why do you disturb Old Tanuki?”
Kitsu smiled and said the line they had worked out. “We had heard of a distinguished tanuki who lived in this tree. My sister and I came to offer thanks for watching over our village below in the valley.” He gestured at Mitsu, who came forward with the tray of wasabi cakes. “We wanted to offer him these cakes as thanks.”
The crow cocked its head and stared at them with a single eye.
Mitsu held his breath.
“I will get him for you,” the crow said. It leaped into the air and flew into a hole further up the tree.
Mitsu released his breath and shared a smile with his older brother.
A few moments later, the crow flew out from the hole and landed on its branch. “Old Tanuki will be out in a moment. Now’s your chance to turn around and go back to the village.”
“Why would we do that?” Mitsu asked.
“Old Tanuki is prickly,” the crow said.
Old Tanuki emerged from the entrance of his home and glared up at the perched crow. “Anyone would be prickly if they were constantly bothered while they napped. He would be especially prickly if he had to deal with you crows always chattering.”
Old Tanuki was fatter than Mitsu expected. Black stripes crossed his brown and gray fur. Black fur ringed his dark eyes, making him look as if he wore a mask. His ears looked too small compared to his round body. This old dog is thought to be better than a fox? Mitsu thought.
“Be direct. Old Tanuki doesn’t like flowery words,” the crow said and flew away.
“Stupid crows. I don’t like any type of word, flowery or otherwise. Well, if have to be awake I might as well hear whatever foolishness you girls have to say.”
Kitsu bowed. “My…sister and I wanted to express our gratitude for how you watch over our village.”
“I do no such thing. Why would the affairs of humans concern me?”
Mitsu blinked. They hadn’t thought of that question.
“Your presence is enough to benefit us, great one,” Mitsu said. He raised the tray. “We wanted to bring you this offering as thanks.” He placed the wasabi cakes on the ground in front of Old Tanuki and backed away, bowing.
Old Tanuki frowned at the tray. “I don’t want them.”
The fox brothers shared a look. Mitsu nodded. The brothers had guessed Old Tanuki would refuse the offering. It had taken them a fair bit of discussion to settle on a tactic, but Kitsu had insisted tears would do the trick.
So on cue, he began to cry. Tears slid from his illusion’s cheeks and dripped from his chin. “Please forgive me. W-we were selected for this honor. The village is counting on us to secure your favor.”
Old Tanuki rolled his eyes. “Tears will do you no good. You humans and your foolish beliefs. Be gone with you. I don’t want your offering or your honor.” He turned and disappeared back into his tree.
Kitsu stopped crying and stared at the tree’s entrance. “How could he turn away like that? Heartless old coot.”
Mitsu frowned. “We should have gone with my idea. Let’s go back for now.” He stooped and picked up the tray with his paws.
The foxes retraced their steps through the forest until they were certain the crows couldn’t see them. Mitsu sat the tray down on a fallen log and relaxed his concentration. He hadn’t realized how exhausting holding an illusion could be. He wondered how his parents managed to hold their shape changes for weeks on end. Shape changing had to be even more exhausting.
Kitsu returned to his true form. His tails quivered. “How could he ignore a beautiful, crying woman? Father said it always worked.”
“With humans, maybe,” Mitsu said. “We will try my plan tonight while he tries to sleep. Let him think we gave up for now. That way we can get him by surprise.”
“You mean pestering him until eats the cakes,” Kitsu said.
Mitsu frowned at his brother’s dismissive tone of voice. “He wants to be left alone right? If we pester him enough, he will break down eventually.”
Kitsu shook his head. “Father wouldn’t approve, but we can try it. When it doesn’t work, I will come up with something else. Father had shown me a few other tricks that might just work.”
Mitsu growled at his brother’s haughty tone. If Father had taught me, I might be tricking humans instead of a grumpy old tanuki.
