No crows greeted them this time. At least, the brothers hadn’t spotted any in the fading daylight. Abruptly, Old Tanuki’s tree home loomed black against the forest. Its limbs clawed the air. The sight reminded Mitsu of a demon their mother had once told him about.
He pushed aside his thoughts and plopped the tray on the ground. He raised his voice. “Old Tanuki. Old Tanuki. Please come out.”
Kitsu spoke out. “Old Tanuki, we come to honor you.”
They waited in the deepening night. The feeble candlelight coming from the paper lantern did little to keep the darkness away. A few cicadas chirruped, but otherwise, the forest remained still.
The moments stretched without a response from the raccoon dog.
Kitsu picked up a fat stick and drummed on Old Tanuki’s tree. “Old Tanuki, come out.”
Mitsu found his own stick and drummed in the same rhythm. Together, the fox brothers took up a chant in time with their drumming. “Old Tanuki, come out. Come out, Old Tanuki.” They continued the chant and drumming for long moments.
“Stop that infernal drumming!” Old Tanuki burst from the hole at the base of the tree. “What are you ladies doing this time of night drumming like that?”
Kitsu continued to drum. The lantern he held swayed in time with his beats, casting wild shadows across the clearing. “We were sent to honor you, and we can’t go back until we do.”
“You came to annoy me. Most humans run the other way when they see me. You do know who I am, right?”
“You are the Great-and-Honored Tanuki God of the Mountain,” Mitsu said. He stopped drumming and bowed low.
“Humph. If I’m a god to you, then you will do as I say and leave me alone,” Old Tanuki said.
“That we cannot do,” Mitsu gestured at the tray, “until you do us the honor of accepting our humble offerings.”
Old Tanuki glared at them. “So you will keep pestering me until I do. Aren’t you afraid of a curse or something?”
“We trust in your benevolence,” Kitsu said.
Old Tanuki grimaced. “If it will get you fools to leave me alone, fine. I accept your offerings. Now leave me.”
“You haven’t eaten them,” Mitsu said. He struggled to keep his excitement under control. His plan to bother Old Tanuki until he gave in was working better and faster than he expected. He had expected to pester Old Tanuki well into the night. He glanced at Kitsu and grinned. Looks like Kitsu is one-upped by me again. I should’ve been the eldest.
“Fine. Just stop that drumming. It is splitting my head.” Old Tanuki bent and sniffed the cakes resting on the tray.
Mitsu held his breath. He hoped he added enough honey to hide the spiciness from the scent but not enough honey to keep the cakes from burning. Kitsu froze and watched.
Old Tanuki shot them a glare before sighing and eating the entire cake in a single bite. Immediately, his eyes bulged, and his tongue rolled out. His eyes watered. He spluttered and scraped at his tongue with a paw.
“What did you do to me?” Drool dangled from Old Tanuki’s mouth.
Mitsu let go of his illusion. Kitsu did the same. “You’ve just been tricked by the famous fox brothers. Mitsu and Kitsu!” Mitsu announced and struck a pose he hoped looked elegant. He arched his tail, extended his right paw, and bowed.
Kitsu spun on his right hind leg, his double tails whirling around him, and winked at the suffering tanuki.
“Cursed foxes.” Old Tanuki’s speech slurred.
“Cursed foxes.” Mitsu matched Old Tanuki’s slur before laughing.
A crow flew into the lantern’s light. “What happened?”
“We tricked Old Tanuki. We, the fox brothers Kitsu and Mitsu.” Kitsu puffed out his chest.
Old Tanuki staggered away from them, spluttering. The crow hopped behind him. “What can I do to help, old friend?” the crow asked.
“Water. Need—water,” Old Tanuki said and stumbled into the darkness.
The crow glared at the foxes before following Old Tanuki.
Mitsu laughed. “Father would be proud. We got that old raccoon dog good.”
“With a trick like that, you should grow your second tail soon, Mitsu,” Kitsu grinned. “And I should soon grow my third.”
Mitsu wagged his tail. A second tail would be nice.
Kitsu gathered the lantern. “I can’t wait to tell Father and Mother about how well my idea went. Let’s go home. As Father always said it’s best not to push a prank too far.”
Mitsu frowned. Your idea? The one that worked was mine, and I was the one who made the wasabi sweet cakes. As much as he wanted to say something, he decided it was best to wait. Mentioning the facts now would only make Kitsu angry.
“My human illusion was good, but it feels better to walk properly on all fours again.” Kitsu danced a small jig as he walked.
“Did you see how his tongue lolled out?” Mitsu mimicked the poor tanuki.
Kitsu laughed. “I can’t wait to tell Father. He will take us to the village for sure.”
As they walked, their joking turned into planning. They discussed what types of tricks they would play on the humans who lived in the valley far below. They talked about maybe even seeing how city humans would react. Neither of the fox brothers had seen a city-dwelling human, but the brothers imagined they would be easier to trick than the humans who lived in the country. After all, they didn’t live in the forest as the village-dwelling humans did. Mitsu wondered if city-dwelling humans looked different. His cousin from the mountain had white fur, so it would make sense city-humans would look different too.
As they topped the rise to their home, the brothers looked up and saw their father. He sat proudly in the morning light. His red fur gleamed, and nine magnificent tails, capped with white, wagged greeting. Forgetting their lack of sleep, the brothers ran up the hill while trying to tell their father about their trick.
“Slow down, boys,” Father said. “What is this about a trick you played on Old Tanuki?”
“We really did. You should have seen it,” Kitsu said.
“Start at the beginning.”
The fox brothers did. They took turns telling their perspective and filling in details the other missed. Their father listened quietly with his tails fanning the air. Mitsu corrected Kitsu a few times, earning a glare from his brother, but Mitsu knew his brother wouldn’t try anything in front of their father.
When the brothers were finally finished with their tale, Father said, “It sounds like you did well for yourselves. I am going back to the village, and it sounds like you are ready to come with me.”
“Right now?” Mitsu asked. “We haven’t had a chance to sleep. Is Mother still in the village?”
Father nodded. “That is why we go now. I have a plan ready, and I need you.”
“Let’s go, Mitsu. I, for one, can do without sleep. But if you want to stay here, I can pick up your slack. Can’t I, Father?”
“I need you both.” Father walked between them and down the hill a short distance before looking back. “Come.”
Kitsu shot Mitsu a reproving look before following their father. Mitsu frowned after them. Something about the way Father spoke felt odd. Father’s voice sounded a little off.
“I’m just tired,” Mitsu said before stumbling down the hill to join his father and brother.
