Nine Tails (Story)

Burnished golden hair and skin white as ivory. Eyes like bluebells. Flushes of rose in her cheeks, and a delicate, dewy face. Pink lips that had a breathless, ready-to-be-kissed look. Slim body that had the grace of a dancer, always poised for a dip, or as if she were going to leap and fly into the air.
Damn, there went the poet in me again.
I smiled softly to myself, tails twitching. The girl shined among her peers, making them all fade into the dimness. And there was me, just crouching. Waiting. Watching.
Okay, so it was pretty creepy of me.
But what could I do? Being connected to a human... It was almost unthinkable. Pretty much forbidden. Tabooed.
Almost.


Ivy's POV

Hairs were prickling at the back of my neck. I pulled my ear-buds out, turning my head to look at the bushes behind me. But I knew how ridiculous I was being, and laughed internally. I was paranoid. I pulled my brown messenger-bag over my shoulder, putting the ear-buds back in and setting my iPod to shuffle. Paranoia? In this town? Ha. I could share it... If I wanted to be exorcised.
Sweet music drifted to my ears as I walked into school, glowing at the fact that I had friends, that I was now a senior, that my school was one of the few that hadn't banned iPods. People turned to say hi to me in the hallways, to which I was accustomed. People liked me, although I didn't know why. I was shy, and I usually stuck to books. But I tended to be nice to people, so they warmed to my odd personality.
At my locker, a dark whirlwind came my way in a fury. Her cottony hair fanned out around her, hidden under a red cap. Her face was flushed under her dark skin and she looked menacing, even though she was a head shorter than me.
"Ivy!" she said, her voice filled with rage. "Ohhh, I'm gonna kill that Lindsey Bohem. She was makin' fun a' you! Said you dont talk to people caus you're crazy."
I raised an eyebrow at the girl until she calmed down a bit. "Bri," I said calmly. "You know I don't care about stuff like that."
"I know, but... Ohh..." she waved a hand in exasperation, her velvety dark eyes looking off into space. "I care. What are best friends for?"
I shrugged. "Painting each others nails. Talking about boys. Texting."
She glowered. "But you dont do any of that stuff!"
I grinned slyly. "I like my nails the way they are, I dont have a boy to talk about, and technology hates me."
She giggled. "Well, I know one part of that we need to fix. The boy part."
I groaned. "Yuck."
"Play the game, girl. That's the only way you can win."
I just glared.


Trigonometry. The absolute bane of my existence. I never could seem to wrap my mind around math. I sat in boredom as the teacher droned on about this and that, resiting the urge to pull out my copy of To Kill a Mocking Bird and read it for the fiftieth time. Oh, sure, I got decent grades in this class. I just didnt know how.
There was a tap at the door. The teacher stopped, his lecture interrupted. He grumbled all the way to the door.
The boy that walked in made me rethink my conversation with Bri.
He looked like the exact opposite of normal. Is white- yes, white- hair reached down past his shoulders, looking to be the color of starlight. His green eyes were wickedly tilted, making him look mischievous. He wasnt pale, but not at all tan. His eyelids were dark violet, drooping halfway to cover his eyes and give him a lazy, elegant look. His eyebrows and lashes were at odds with his hair, being dark and sooty. On his upper lip, there looked to be a thin, white scar, like the lip had been torn. But his mouth was still perfect; sullen and mocking. He wore a gray, faded t-shirt that had something on it written in Japanese, with bluejeans, halfway concealing the white converse high-tops.
He strode lazily into the room, casting around green glances. A small smile appeared on his scarred lips when his gaze fell on me.
The teacher was futilely trying to regain the attention a mesmerized class. "Ah, yes," he said in his monotone voice. "This is Mr.... Ah..."
"Setsuna," the boy said. His voice was flavored with what seemed like thousands of accents, all meshing into one. My ears fought to find just one in the din. One second I settled on a molasses, southern-sounding voice, but the next, it sounded Welsh.
"Ah, yes. Setsuna. Do you have a last name, by chance?"
"Isnt that what you were supposed to know before I came?" the boy asked, raising the dark eyebrows. The teacher went pale, then red.
But he didnt say a word, only flipped through some files on his desk. His eyes widened, and he mumbled, "Japanese... I cant pronounce this..."
The boy rolled his eyes. "Higashiyama. It's pretty simple."
"Like that's going to help..." mumbled the teacher.
I just stared in awe at the perfection of the boy, at the way his lean, lanky muscles looked under his shirt, at the way the snowy tips of his hair fell into those green eyes....
I mentally shook myself. Woah, girl, I told myself. You cant even say his name right yet. Dont go falling in love. Because that ended so well last time.
Again, the boy looked in my direction. His eyes sparked under the heavy violet lids, and he winked. I only sat there, breathless.
Setsuna, I thought. What a beautiful name.



AN: Well, what do you think?!?!?!? I think it's going to be great fun writing this one. If you want to know more about Kitsunes, I suggest Wikipedia. It works well with explaining them. Anyway, tell me what you thought! It would be much appreciated :)