Twin Kitsunes: The Nogistune

35.

⤚ Heavy Dirty Soul ⤙

Akiya

WE had special blades. It became quite obvious to me as I stared at my mother's katana. It was a rare occasion mom left her katana here when she went to work since she displayed the piece with pride.

Araya and I knew the story of it since mom loved sharing it. The blade was passed through her family, and now it was hers, given by her mother. Who it would go to after? I had no idea, mom never spoke of it. But she also never told us we were kitsunes.

We never knew our grandmother, truth be told we knew none of our family. It was just Araya, mom, and I. No one else but them. But we grew up that way and never questioned it. Mom never spoke of it so we never asked mom about our family.

About her side of the family. If we had aunts or uncles. Our grandparents. It was a topic never spoken of. And it made sense now. Our mom had to be a couple centuries old to hold her own against the nogitsunes, meaning we had quite old family.

But that was just brushing the surface. We had zero information on our mystery dad. It was almost as if he didn't exist, and mom hated it if we even mentioned him. Whoever he was, they didn't end on good terms. Out there was some male kitsune whom our mother really hated.

If he was even mentioned she tended to leave the conversation or snap. So Araya and I never spoke of him. He remained shrouded in darkness. Like the rest of our family. The most we knew was because of that cursed katana that sat in front of me. The stories mom would tell.

"Did you think your pathetic blade would hold up against mine?" I bit my lip. "Your blade is weak and isn't made to fight up against people like us." That's what the nogitsune said before shattering the katana that Araya and I stole from the pawn shop.

Well I stole it and she distracted the shop owner. And for the katana to hit the nogitsunes and shatter like it was made of glass and not steel. I was confused and terrified as it had been my only form of defense. Sure I wasn't good with it, but I was better than no blade.

The fact that they shattered it like glass was what started this. So when mom left her katana here I knew that I had to inspect it. This was a family heirloom, and we came from a family of kitsunes. This was more than just some katana that survived the years.

This was a kitsunes weapon.

Mom never let us hold it, but she let us touch it. But never hold it. She always said she didn't want us to accidently hurt ourselves. Katanas were quite lightweight compared to the more brunt force swords that were sold that would hold us back.

We'd be too busy trying to hold it up. But katanas were lightweight and easy to carry around. Even mom's slightly larger katana was pretty lightweight. The katana was inside a white casing embedded with some type of gem. Holding it didn't feel weird until I took out the blade.

We have special blades. I knew it the moment the katana left its casing. The katana that I stole was just a broken weapon. But it never made me feel weird or make the electricity dance in my hands once more. It did nothing, but shatter under the pressure of the nogitsunes.

But this one didn't. Mom's katana was a long one made of steel and silver stripes throughout it. The hilt was wrapped in white and black ribbons and tied together. Almost as if the white and black were meant to intertwine and conquer each other in ways most didn't understand.

But I felt the surge of power as I held the katana in my hand. I turned the katana over as the silk ribbons pressed into my hands. I kept my grip tight as I examined the katana trying to see what made it so special, but the only difference was the silver stripes.