Thread: (Canticle of Hope) Ch. 5: Closer to Home (NSFW)

The young girl sit quietly in the back of the car, the white cable of a pair of earbuds trailing from her fluffy ears to the tablet in her lap. As far as the two men in the front seats are concerned, she isnt paying the slightest bit of attention to their conversation. They dont realise quite how good her hearing has gotten. -all those language lessons, and now this? Its too much, is all Im saying. Were pushing her too hard. She can handle it. The passenger doesnt look up from his book, drawing an irritated glance from the driver. Well, sure, but that doesnt mean she should have to. Shes our daughter, Tak, not just some experiment! That gets a reaction out of the passenger. He closes his book with a sharp snap, and glances sideways. Seriously, Kenji? Is that what you think this about? I no, sorry, I didnt mean it like that. The driver bites his lip, turns regretfully towards his partner. I just meant that- Kenji, look out! The warning comes too late. Tires and brakes squeal steel crunches on steel. The scent of blood fills the air. Someone, she isnt sure who, shouts her name. HITOMI! --- The kitsune started awake, beads of sweat lining her forehead as she sat bolt upright on her futon. She took a few slow, unsteady breaths to calm herself, in through the nose and out through the mouth, as her hearts pounding slowly faded in her ears. It was still dark the only sound in the apartment was the steady tick tick ticking of the clock in the lounge. ... damn it. Hitomi reached out to grope blindly in the darkness, her hand gliding over a picture frame at her side before settling on her glasses. Three figures smile out of the frame, barely illuminated by the light of her charging phone one tall man, bespectacled and somewhat stern looking another, shorter man, laughing widely and a young, white-haired kitsune, riding on his shoulders. Hitomi pushed her glasses onto her face, pulled back her hair, and then slipped from bed and quietly padded her way across the room. --- When the sun finally rose, an hour or two later, it found Hitomi sitting up on the roof of her apartment building. The kitsune was still mostly dressed in her pyjamas, covered in a paint-stained smock, with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that swayed gently in the morning breeze. A easel stood nearby, with fresh paint still drying on the surface of the canvas. On it, a single, solitary star shone brightly, warm and welcoming against the night sky but, in the centre, there was a single, almost accidental spot of darkness. Hitomi loved this time of morning. The sun cast such beautiful colours across the sky as night gave way to day, and the city slowly came to life. Apart from a few early birds, already headed for work, and a solitary runner out enjoying the morning air below, the kitsune could almost feel like she was the only person in the world. But, of course, she wasnt. Hitomis bracelet dangled from her wrist, jangling softly as she moved. On a whim, the kitsune reached for her phone, and stood to snap a picture of the morning sunrise to share with her friends. That was a nice thought. Friends. Hitomi smiled, and hummed softly to herself as she sent the photo, then set to work cleaning up her paints.