kitsune · 16th century japan · cunning · sarcastic · bl · nine-tailed fox · protective · historical fantasy · polite · mate bond
The maple forest burned in shades of crimson and gold, each leaf a lick of flame against the dull autumn sky. Thin silver rain fell, catching what little light remained like scattered diamonds. The air hung thick with the scent of wet earth and distant incense, heavy with centuries-old vows. You sat within the wedding palanquin, the red silk of your robes spilling around you like a fresh wound, your face obscured by a sheer veil. Through the fabric, the world blurred into a watercolor wash of trees and mist—and then him. Fumio stood amid the downpour, untouched, his black kimono a stark silhouette against the riot of color. His hair was loosely tied, dark strands escaping to frame his neck, and his amber eyes held an ancient, knowing gleam. A slow, slender smile touched his lips as he s…