Beyond, With a Yokai

Chapter 11: Fragile Trust

"I'm asking just one thing — don't interfere," I said, trying to keep calm, though weariness crept into my voice. This was the moment I couldn't allow anyone else's doubt to sway the decisions already made. Tomoya had proven more than once that he'd protect Yesenia — and that was what mattered.

"How am I supposed to just stand by, knowing you're risking your life?" Her voice trembled with emotion.

"He won't die. Tomoya will give him his energy, and Aki will survive," Senya said with absolute certainty, as if it were the only possible outcome.

Margaret burst out laughing so loudly the house seemed to echo with it.

"Oh, my sides! You're all fools if you think a nogitsune would sacrifice himself for you," she said with open scorn in her voice.

"We trust him. He won't betray us," I said, looking the fox straight in the eyes. "You don't have to trust him, but at least trust me."

I placed a paw gently on hers, running it softly over her fur, trying to calm her.

"Alright, Aki," she agreed after a pause, but I knew her words were more a concession than real trust.

Margaret had always been stubborn and willful, but this time she backed off — or at least pretended to. Either way, it wasn't safe for her to stay here, and I knew I had to see her off. We stepped outside, and I walked her to the edge, feeling the weight of misunderstanding hang heavy between us. In this world, we all had to learn how to trust — despite our doubts.

"When are you planning to do it?" she asked tensely.

"In three days," I replied, trying to sound composed, though inside I was boiling.

"I want to be there — to make sure he keeps his promise. A promise, yes! Tell me you got his word," she said, almost pleading, as if looking for any kind of reassurance.

"There's no need. He'll help," I tried to reassure her.

"And why are you so sure?" Her eyes flashed, and I could see her growing anxiety. Margaret was always hard to convince — especially when it came to safety.

"Because he's in love with Yesenia," I said, surprised at how easily the words came out.

"Fine, he'll help her. But what about you?" she pressed, her voice growing sharper.

"He'll help me too. Enough questions, Margaret! I've said all I can," I snapped, irritation flaring up, though I tried to hold it back. Her constant interrogations stirred up anger, but I knew she was only scared for me.

"Fine, no more questions," Margaret exhaled deeply, trying to collect herself. "But I want to stay with you these next few days."

"You can visit, but I don't want you here during the ritual." I said it firmly, knowing that if Margaret were nearby, she'd definitely try to intervene, and everything could fall apart. And if she interfered, Yesenia wouldn't be able to return home. I saw something painful flash in her eyes, and realized her worry was only growing.

"You're planning to die, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet — like a sentence. She looked at me, tears shimmering in her eyes. Margaret tried to hide them, but I knew — she'd never been good at masking her feelings.

I looked away.

"I just didn't want to say it in front of the girl. I've already made the deal with the fox," I sighed, realizing there was no point hiding the truth anymore. But Yesenia must never know. Margaret could always read me like an open book. She caught even the smallest changes in tone or expression. This time was no different.

"Margaret, I..." I trailed off, not knowing what to say, how to go on.

"You still love her?" The question hung in the air, and I felt everything inside me tighten.

"I do."

She exhaled heavily, then said softly:

"Alright. I'll come tomorrow."

I looked at her again, then almost whispered:

"Margaret, please... Don't tell the pack we met. I don't want them interfering."

She nodded, though her eyes remained troubled.

"I won't tell," her voice was firm, but I knew the matter wasn't settled in her heart.

She said nothing else — just turned and stepped beyond the barrier, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stood in silence until her silhouette disappeared into the night. A dull emptiness hummed in my chest.

"Aki."

I flinched. The fox had said my name — for the first time. It sounded strange, almost... gentle?

I turned to him.

"Why do you keep calling me a friend?"

His voice was low and calm, but I sensed the tension underneath.

"You don't like it?" I smirked a little, glancing sideways at him.

"That's not the point. It's not true."

"And why not?"

"You're not my friend, cat."

He said it sharply, firmly... but there was something in his eyes I couldn't quite place.

"Maybe so. But to me, you are."

"Why? What made me your friend? We bicker every damn day."

"Could've killed each other by now — so this is progress," I chuckled. "And besides, we've been through a lot together. I can see that you're not as bad as you pretend to be."

The fox narrowed his eyes. His gaze sharpened, like he was trying to spot a trick in my words.

"You sound like Yesenia."

"I'm just telling the truth," I sighed, looking at him more gently. "I don't know what happened in your past, but I won't judge. Just believe this — not everyone in this world wants to hurt you. Try opening your heart, just once, and you'll regret not doing it sooner."

I didn't wait for a reply. I lightly patted his leg, turned, and headed for the house.

"I'll help you. You won't die."

I froze.

His voice was firm, without a hint of doubt.

Slowly, I turned back to meet his gaze.

The fox looked at me seriously — no smirk, no sarcasm.

And in that moment, I knew: he meant it.