The Fox and the Snakes

[Kyushu, Japan, Year: Late December 2019]

"Guys…" Jiuwei stared at the opened yet muddied and crumpled KFC box on the marble top counter in a large, luxurious looking kitchen with its custom Italian made Smeg appliances.

"Girlsss too."

"Whatever. All of you called me to divide… this?" Jiuwei's long manicured fingernails pointed at the two stale looking, battered chicken thighs on the grease soaked paper inside the disgusting-looking box.

"Yesss," came their resolute answer.

Jiuwei palmed his face with one hand, looking in disbelief at the ridiculous request which had befallen him.

"You could have bought a few chicken buckets from KFC than eating the leftovers dropped by some frightened kid. It isn't like you are poor in the human world," He grumbled as his face crunched up at the idea of even touching the scraps.

Bloody snakes just couldn't resist crap on the floor. Jiuwei clutched a meat cleaver in hand and the soggy looking thighs before him.

He, the legendary nine-tailed fox, is the judge, jury and executioner of those thighs for the Mishakuji. His ego has taken a severe beating from the realisation.

If they didn't help him in the past, or can crush him, he wouldn't bother to materialise in a physical form. Not for the two grease loaded chicken thighs from the human world.

"Be nice to them. Be nice to them," he murmured under his breath, suppressing the ever-growing temptation to throw the meat cleaver at them. "Deep breaths, be nice."

"A hunting achievement," a few of the snake-like shadows replied to his earlier suggestion in unison.

"Fruitsss of Ambusssh," one pipped in with pride.

Jiuwei rolled his eyes at their nonsensical answers. It's official - the great Mishakuji had reached the peak of boredom where even the most insignificant act excited them.

Great was their fall from being worshipped in fear as gods in the dark ages. Now they took pride in scaring kids in the modern age of technology.

Fruits of ambush, their arse, he thought. Those sad food scraps didn't even qualify to be fruits of labor. More of a beggar's meal, one taken from the bin.

"We… need you, Tamamo, to sssplit it for us. To be fair."

Jiuwei growled at his old Japanese moniker, Tamamo-no-Mae. It wasn't him. He only played a part in influencing the real Tamamo-no-Mae. Damn if he ever wanted to even try another male in bed.

"Stop calling me Tamamo!"

"No. Tamamo-no-mae. We like your name. Or do you want usss to call you gummi bear?

Bloody Disney's Gummi bear - that nickname was his bane since the Gummi Bears first appeared on television.

However, the use of that nickname had a far darker reason - the Mishakuji never respected the name which the Koreans gave him, 'gumiho'. They did mention that it sounded stupid. Then again, he knew of the existing similarities between them and their ring-wing human counterparts which inhabited Japan.

"Gummi bears, bouncing here and there and everywhere!" Sang one snake, much to his irritation, followed by a few hissy snickers. Which one, he didn't care to know.

"High adventure that'sss beyond compare!" Another joined in.

"You are terrible at karaoke!" he yelled at the ruckus.

"Then what ssshall we call you?" They enquired.

"Jiuwei! You can call me that," he snarled at them.

"No. Tamamo. That's Chinessse Mandarin. Not our language."

Jiuwei gritted his teeth. The stubborn snakes still didn't like the Chinese version of his name, too. Everything had to be Japanese for them.

"Kyūbi then."

Kyūbi should be an acceptable Japanese pronunciation of his Chinese name, Jiuwei, which meant Nine tails.

"Bah. Onyomi."

He smacked his face hard. He had forgotten that onyomi was the Japanese adaptation of Chinese phonetics to pronounce the Chinese scripts. Bargaining with a bunch of proud and fussy indigenous Japanese snake beings was frustrating.

He could only wonder why they were even friendly with him. Perhaps foxes always existed on the Japanese islands. Who knows? Then again, with the Mishakuji, it was hard to tell.

"Might as well call you Sssu Daji," the Mishakuji retorted in an annoying synchronicity.

A shudder ran up his form as he recalled his time as Su Daji's influencer during the ancient Shang dynasty. Tamamo-no-Mae came easy after he learnt the ways of dealing with human females from his time with Su Daiji.

Bad enough that Nüwa tasked him with a mission to topple the Kingdom by raising the position of a fearful teenage girl in the harem of the last King of Shang, Di Xin. The squealing little mouse of a girl annoyed the hell out of him.

At least, one good thing came out of it - his reputation gained notoriety as an evil, conniving nine-tailed fox in Chinese mythology.

"At least my legend is older than yours! Ancient China had the Shang dynasty before the Yayoi era humans of yours had kingdoms!" He retorted.

"Yeah, they usssed lead and trace mercury to make wine gobletsss, which poisssoned half of their population," they snapped back.

Unpleasant, but true. Both lead and mercury leached enough into the poured wine via those utensils and drunk by the humans, unknowingly poisoning themselves into madness back then, including Di Xin.

Although that fiasco made his old mission easy of toppling a Kingdom but unpleasant memories of Nüwa abandoning him soon after still stung.

It was Kanghui who saved his furry arse and brought him over to Japan. Yet, Kanghui was the one who introduced the Mishakuji to him.

Kanghui and the Mishakuji are all damn snakes, he grouched to himself as he did a rough count of the Mishakuji's shadows. Ten for two chicken thighs. Fortunately for him, they were not in full attendance.

"Ok. Whatever. Division isn't my strong point since I don't really care to share. I can chop the meat up, but you have to divide by weight," Jiuwei declared, waving the meat cleaver.

He could hear the hissing discussion between them. Ten snakes discussing two pieces of meat made him shudder at how mundane they sounded.

Why share when things materialize with ease at a snap of his fingers? The Mishakuji could just snap their fingers, tails or whatever and get a freshly fried chicken faster than the person ordering at the counter.

"I can help you call for delivery," he called out. "Heck, I will even stay to take the delivery."

Nope. They ignored him, judging by more hissy whispers amongst themselves.

"Damn it fellows, I know you hate dealing with humans but for fucks sake, pay to get the damn batch of freshly fried chickens… besides the delivery guy won't stay for a conversation," he muttered under his breath as he stared in aghast at the stale, oily and soggy chicken which his hands had to touch. Grease stains on his clothing were hard to scrub off.

"Do you think we can't order a delivery on our own? Paying is no fun…" the Mishakuji spoke as a united voice again, which irked Jiuwei to no end.

Misers, Jiuwei thought. A meal would cost pittance to the Mishakuji since they had a high net worth value in the human world. Those darn snakes had money flowing in from their shrines and multiple businesses behind their human facade. Not to mention that they could also create money out of thin air.

Yet here, some of them were arguing over two stale chicken thighs in an expensive condominium penthouse worth over five million USD. And not even over a whole chicken carcass.

"You guys know how stale this oil soaked meat is?" Jiuwei held up the grease loaded meat with two manicured fingers in disgust.

"We just want a tassste."

"You guys can't taste shit. And I mean shit in the toilet," Jiuwei grumbled out of their earshot. "Why even evolve to the final stage when you want to just eat crap? We don't even need to consume physical biological food anymore."

With the final evolution, without a digestive tract, food tasting flew out the window of abilities. The only agreement amongst their kind was to speak out loud, for none wanted to surrender their thoughts to another.

The communal Mishakuji had no problems sharing telepathic thoughts with each other.

Sharing thoughts with others was a big no-no, and Jiuwei thanked the rule in silence - because if they knew what he was thinking right now, he would be spirit fox stew.

"By the way, there isss a human sssoul on cusssp in the old ssshrine," they added. "Yasssu Mawari'sss mark on it."

His ears pricked at the mention of Yasu Mawari, another ancient Japanese moniker but for the name of Kanghui's earliest shrine in Japan.

Kanghui would not bother to mark an individual human or animal for the final evolution. Or did he get Kanghui wrong?

"Did you say human?"

"Yesss," the Mishakuji answered.

"Why the heck would she do that?"

"Not our concern," they responded as a whole. "We don't interfere with othersss. We only look after Arahabaki."

Arahabaki - Jiuwei sighed at the name. Old Japanese gang from the Jomon period stuck together. Even among the beings which originated in the land, they were still clannish when arguments amongst themselves took place.

At least, they got a spider to look after the newcomer, although the newcomer might not resist the spider's deadly charms.

"Male or female?"

"Male. Yata is with him."

The Mishakuji didn't seem to care at all. Usually, they were territorial over information.

Shit, Jiuwei snapped his fingers in disappointment. The newcomer might yet survive Yata.

"Full body or a wisp of a soul?" He asked, partly intrigued by curiosity and partly by a tinge of uneasiness.

"Full ssseven," the Mishakuji said.

He bit his lip, wondering if Kanghui knew. Last he heard, she was in LA to deal with Morningstar for something. Whoever that soul is in the old shrine, he wanted to see who the newcomer is. If weak, the newcomer is his food for the soul.

"Back to our chicken?"

"I divide your chicken and you bring me to that soul."

"Deal."