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Nightfall has descended upon the land of humans.
It’s a clear night: the dense fog which had enshrouded the earth during the day had crept away at sunset, leaving behind a view practically unparalleled. Stars blanket the vast onyx sky, forming a magnificent celestial atlas that perfectly frames the recently-risen full moon.
Beams of moonlight dance and scatter across the ocean. As each wave breaks across the sand, Jesse almost swears he catches a glimpse of divine light; the water shimmers cerulean before fading into its usual murky hue.
It’s quiet.
Really, it’s the quietest night he’s had since he stole away to the human world. Every day so far has been a whirlwind of noise and chaos.
Somehow, he’s not as bothered about that as he could be.
Water laps at his ankles. His sandals are further upshore, abandoned carelessly on the sand along with his violet haori. Come morning, Jesse might come to regret taking a dip in the sea so late into the evening, but for the moment, he savors it all.
The human world may have its issues, but it’s also…beautiful, in its own imperfect way.
His heart thrums. Not just in his chest, but also a few steps behind him.
Jesse could never forget the call of his soul. Even if it’s been months since he’s unwillingly parted from his hoshi no tama, he can track it down across any distance or time.
Not that he particularly needs to do that. His soul’s pearl is in the same place it’s been for the past half year: strung at the end of a blasphemously ethereal beaded necklace, forever around the neck of one of the most intriguing humans he’s met to date.
Brilliant yet terrible. Observant yet ignorant. Compassionate yet merciless.
“Anne,” Jesse says, turning around to face her. A chilly ocean breeze rushes past him, tousling his golden hair. “You’re up late. Here to keep me company?”
Illuminated in the twilight, the demon huntress looks more like a spirit than he does. She’s let her hair out of its usual immaculate, pleated bun; without her sharp hair ornaments, her aquamarine locks spill past her shoulders. She looks gentler, like she belongs to the ocean, to the waves, to the water.
Then, of course, she opens her mouth.
“Never turn your back to the sea,” she warns, her voice a low, bored drawl. “Or you might get swept away.”
Jesse laughs at that, his grin so wide that he thinks his fangs might pop out. Fire and light itch beneath his skin. “Let it try.”
He pauses.
“Say, is that concern I hear?”
“Don’t let it get to your head.”
He laughs again, snapping his fingers. At his silent command, ginger-orange flames twirl in the air, twisting into little shapes as they flicker around them. Perhaps it speaks volumes that Anne no longer goes for her sword at the sight of his fire; either she’s gotten used to his antics and thinks little of them, or she’s developed some modicum of trust in him over their months on the run together.
“Concern from the honorable lady of the noblest demon hunting clan,” Jesse teases. “For this humble fox?”
He searches her features, anticipating some flash of embarrassment. But Anne does what she manages every day: she throws him for a complete loop.
She tilts her chin upwards, almost challengingly. “Mind if I join you?”
He thinks he might’ve hallucinated at first. Or…the waves are loud. Maybe he misheard her. He shifts around ever so slightly, dislodging himself from the damp sand that’s settled over his feet and wading closer to shore.
“Sorry,” he says. “What?”
She kicks off her footwear. Jesse’s eyes trace the perfect arc her sandals make in the air before landing in the sand. Next comes off her own haori— made from a boyish, navy cloth probably worth more than what some humans make in a lifetime.
“Do you mind,” she repeats, enunciating each word slowly, “if I join you?”
He blinks twice before recovering. “Sure. Need me to—”
She flies past him in a whoosh of blue. Jesse can’t help but gape as she wades into the ocean barefoot, heedless of the way the water clings to the ends of her robes. It takes him a moment, but he trudges in deeper so he can stand by her side; by sheer virtue of his taller stature, the seawater just barely reaches the hem of his robes.
“Anne?”
She’s standing still, staring out into the ocean. As if the starry horizon—the unending void of darkness—is speaking to her.
His hand lands on her shoulder. It startles her into action.
“Do you think,” she asks suddenly, “Our meeting was preordained?”
Jesse coughs. “If that was your attempt at wooing me, we’ll have to work on your material a little more.”
“I’ll dunk you.”
“I’m wooed, I’m wooed.”
Anne glances up at the moon and stretches out her hand towards it, like she’s trying to grab it. Her hand closes into a fist. “Fate, destiny…I’ve never been a huge believer of those.”
“‘Seize it with your own two hands,’” Jesse quotes. “Right?”
She looks a little surprised, as if she really thought Jesse wouldn’t know where she was getting at even though she’s said that line a million times. “Exactly.”
He’s of a similar mind…in a way.
Luck has played a great part in shaping Jesse’s life. At the same time, he’s created the situations that have brought the most change to his life.
Perhaps destiny was at work for him to have met Anne out of the thousands of humans attending the spirit festival that night—but it was Jesse who chose to come to the human world, Jesse who called out to her that night.
He shrugs, resting his hands behind his neck. “Who cares about fate? We’re here, aren’t we?”
A cloud passes, shielding the moon from view. A shadow befalls the land. Even in the dimmed light, Jesse can easily make out the smile that crosses Anne's lips.
"I never thanked you," she says. "You could've left me behind that day and been rid of all of this."
Jesse knows exactly what she's talking about—the day he chose to throw himself into harm's way for a huntress whose ambition outshone her mercilessness, whose righteous fury had been fascinating even when directed at him.
"You told me to go," he recalls.
He remembers the clinking sound his pearl had made, rolling out of her hand as she stared death in the eye. For all her harsh words, she hadn't even thought about taking him down with her. It was that one act of kindness that had convinced him she was someone worth saving.
"Yet," Anne says. "You stayed."
She turns to fully face him, her hand reaching upwards to cup his cheek. Her sleeve falls back and bunches at her shoulder, revealing the ink-black markings crawling up her forearm.
Jesse hardly dares to breathe.
"Thank you," she says. "For all you've done for me."
Her hand feels cold against Jesse's always-warm skin. Still, even though her touch is feather light, he feels it linger—even after she pulls away.
"Careful, princess," he says. "That almost sounded like a goodbye."
She arches an eyebrow at him, and that's when he realizes.
"My life has been defined by my grandfather's values and my father's words," Anne says. "But that isn't everything I am."
She lifts her hair and goes for something near her nape—it takes Jesse a moment to realize she's unfastened her necklace. Her string of trophies, a staple that she's worn since the day he met her.
Her fingers are quick to undo the knot keeping the first bead in place. It slides into her hand, a luminescent yellow pearl that covers her whole palm.
She glances up at him and pauses in her movements.
"Starlight," she says, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
Jesse's voice is hoarse. "Starlight?"
"Back in my hometown, they say a kitsune's eyes are like…starlight. Foreign."
"Uh-huh."
"Distant."
"Uh-huh."
"Dangerous."
He licks his lips. "Is that what you think? That my eyes are like—starlight?"
"No," Anne says, very matter-of-fact. "Really, you look like you might just cry."
She glances down at the pearl in her hand. Without further ado, she clenches her hand into a fist, crushing it—the pearl explodes into a flurry of golden dust that sprinkles across the water. The gold flakes shimmer, then dissolve into nothingness.
"It's not like they were good people," she says, pulling out the next jewel. "I chose my targets based on how much human life they'd taken, you know. I wanted to make a difference."
Another bit of glittering dust—this time a deep sea green—seeps past her fist. It's carried further away by a strong gust of wind, illuminating the darkness ever so briefly before fading away.
"But even they deserve dignity in death."
She goes through the string of pearls, one by one. Sky blue. Scarlet red. Sunset orange. With each release, it looks as though her shoulders get lighter and lighter. Jesse hadn't realized how burdened she'd looked before until he sees her now, standing tall.
Dust glitters in the air, in the water, around them. Almost like diamonds.
She comes to the last pearl.
His pearl.
Jesse swears he feels her fingertips ghost over him when her fingers wrap around the amethyst manifestation of his soul.
"Our journey's coming to an end," she says, holding it out to him. "We've grown stronger. Strong enough that I have no doubts we'll defeat the moon eating demon and get rid of the bond he's forced upon us."
Jesse's hand hovers over her outstretched one. His jewel is right here, at his fingertips.
"I could strike you down," he says.
She doesn't even waver. "You could."
"Without my signature disguising you, he could very well track you and I down here."
"I'm aware."
He looks at her— really looks at her. Anne wears the same resolved expression she's had from day one, but there's something softer about her now. Something earnest, something terribly human. She stares straight at him, bare feet planted in the sand and expression for once an open book.
I'm serious, her eyes say.
I trust you, he reads in her squared shoulders.
His hand curves over hers. He feels the smooth, warm thrum of his soul beneath his palm. It sings at his touch.
Then, he curls her fingers over the jewel.
"Keep it," he says, drawing back.
She stares at him, flummoxed. "What?"
"We're heading to his lair anyways," Jesse dismisses, turning his gaze away from her. "It'll take a fortnight at most, so what's with the rush? Are you that eager to rid yourself of my company?"
"Jesse," she says slowly, which is definitely an upgrade from her usual 'kitsune' or 'Grimmett.' He likes the way his name rolls off her tongue. "I'm returning—I mean, you know…this is. This is your soul."
"And?"
"And?!"
"You can give it back to me once we're at the end of our journey," he says breezily. "Somehow, I feel like it's in safer hands with you than with me. You know I've lost it before?"
Anne adopts a face he's all too familiar with. It's the one she wears whenever he says something tremendously stupid or shocking.
"You…misplaced your soul?"
"Dropped it in a river and had to chase it downstream once," Jesse reminisces. "That wasn't too fun. A fish almost swallowed it."
"You're so…so…"
"Handsome? Ingenious? I know."
She stares at him, then glances down at the glowing pearl in her hand. Finally, she fastens the clasp back over it and holds the necklace out to him.
"Tie it on."
"Bossy as always," he jokes, but he takes the necklace and drapes it over her. She's pulled her hair up, so for the first time, Jesse has a clear view of her bare nape.
He goes quiet as he begins working the string into a knot. It's not every day that Anne Chevalier, with all her guarded wariness, lets someone so close to her. Especially not near her undefended back.
It's also rare for Jesse—a trickster halfling, a mischievous spirit—to be granted the honor of someone's trust. He isn't going to let his motormouth ruin it.
Anne is remarkably still. A little tense, if her stiff shoulders are any indication. His fingers move as quickly as they can, but the moment feels like it stretches for an eternity before he finally, finally pulls back and declares he's finished.
She lets go of her hair to feel the knot he's made.
"It's alright," she says, which is basically a glowing recommendation by Anne's standards.
"Purple suits you," he says, winking. "I like you better like this."
"Soaking wet and trembling?"
"Well…"
She smacks him on the arm for that.
"I hope you get swept away by the current."
"That's the mildest threat you've made yet—"
"And that your entrails get ripped apart by a passing shark."
"That's the spirit."
She huffs, hitching up her robes. "Let's get back to shore before we catch a cold."
"A little late to be salvaging your clothes now," Jesse says.
He then, of course, loses his footing and falls hips-first into the water. A wave smacks him in the back, just to compound his misery.
His hair is soaked.
His clothes are soaked.
And Anne—Anne bursts into laughter. Full-out, unrestrained laughter that sounds a little like tinkling bells. Amusement dances in her sunset eyes, or maybe it's the moonlight.
She looks really, really pretty like that, so all Jesse can do while chest-deep in freezing cold seawater is…stare.
The full force of her smile is focused on him.
(Oh, he's in trouble. So much trouble.)
"You're a buffoon," she informs him.
His eyes narrow at that. She must see the grimset determination in his features, for she backs away.
"Don't you da—" is all she gets out before he yanks her into the water with him. She falls in with a squeak and a loud splash.
Jesse can't help but snicker when she resurfaces, hair plastered to her face and eyes alit with fury. She looks a bit like a soaked rat, and he tells her as much.
"And you'll be a dead rat once I'm done with you," she says, grabbing a handful of his shirt and wrestling him to the ground. Now that she's completely drenched, she has no qualms about kneeling in the water.
"Why Anne," Jesse gasps, laughter bubbling in his chest even as she glowers over him. "This is hardly proper."
"You're dead, Grimmett."
"And you're pretty," tumbles out of his mouth, because who needs self-preservation when you can see Anne Chevalier's face pinken in real time?
She scowls, surging to her feet and yanking Jesse up to his. Her necklace swings at the sudden motion—the single pearl really does suit her better than her previously gaudy collection.
"Come on," she says. "Time to dry ourselves, find some game to roast, and figure out a plan."
"Dinner and murder," Jesse sighs dreamily, clutching his chest. "The key to winning my heart."
As they trudge back to shore, he thinks he hears her laugh.