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“Bingo-o-o…”
He didn’t respond, only barely cracking his eyes open.
Uran’s bare foot brushed against his thigh, then a little higher, but before it could take on too intimate a turn, he abruptly stopped her, catching her by the slender ankle. He could snap it, he thought, and yet he also knew Uran was stronger than most. With that leg — with that very same delicate ankle — she could crush the skull of an opponent who had angered her too much. At times her temperament resembled fire more than anything else, as though she were a fox, which did not quite suit her sorcery.
So annoying.
“Hey, Bingo…”
Uran reached out; the claws on her hand slid over his bicep, then she edged closer, trying to catch his eyes, and only then did Bingo finally react, lifting his gaze to hers. He didn’t like the way Uran sometimes looked at him — a fox looking at a dog, as if she were laughing, yet at the same time with the curiosity of a wild beast that had stumbled upon one already tamed. They all joked that Bingo was Yura’s dog, and, well, that was true enough. But Uran… no. Maybe she obeyed him, but never completely… She always tried to play by her own rules.
Though with Yura, whether you danced to his tune or not, sooner or later you ended up obeying him anyway.
Even foxes can be domesticated.
For a couple of minutes they simply stared each other down.
“What?”
“God. You’re such a bore.” Uran scrunched up her pretty face and looked away. “Here I am trying to have a little fun with him, and he just sits there like a damn tree, not reacting at all. That’s exactly what you are!” she snapped at Bingo. “A damn stupid bush! But only you are a bald idiot. So more like a pebble. Smooth and pointless.”
“Hey, that’s actually kind of hurtful.”
“You can’t be hurt. You’re a pebble.”
“Maybe rocks have feelings too.”
Uran turned back to him again.
When she moved close once more, Bingo made an effort not to look away. He didn’t blink when her hands settled on his waist, when her sharp claws lightly scratched at him. She was playing with him; just like a real fox, she’d laugh any second now, spring away, flick her tail, and vanish. All foxes cast illusions. This one just wasn’t red-haired… But the essence was the same.
Once Uran settled herself more comfortably on his lap, Bingo sighed and decided that if he kept sitting still, she definitely wouldn’t leave him alone. He placed his hands on her hips beneath the thin fabric of her skirt, then gave them a slight squeeze, but Uran didn’t even squeal. She merely narrowed her eyes, and within that fox’s gaze another creature revealed itself — a snake, a dangerous viper ready to lunge forward and bite. A predator. That was what she was… Yura had probably invited her along for Rokuhira’s murder simply because he wanted to let her gorge herself on blood. The other two could have handled it perfectly well without her, even with Hokuto’s puppet standing in for Yura himself. But Yura loved his little monsters, so he always tried to keep them close and indulge them whenever he could.
The fan on the nightstand rattled loudly, making the paper blinds over the windows flutter with every sweep. Dust drifted through the dim, curtained room in pale specks.
Like snowflakes.
If Uran wanted, there really could have been snow here, but she was looking only at him, devouring him with her eyes, and Bingo suddenly found himself wanting to tip his head back, to see whether she would strike or not. With foxes, you had to be careful… You might tame one for a while, but it would still remain a wild beast. It would never let a human get too close.
A human or a dog.
They were all like that. Savages. Yura had gathered them together and ground them down before molding them anew, like clay, but they were still only beasts wearing human masks. No matter how well they pretended, this wasn’t a fairy tale. They would never become ordinary boys and girls. At best, the false faces would fit a little closer.
Uran’s fingers brushed against his face, stroking his chin before she leaned into him, tucking her legs beneath herself. Without heels, she looked tiny, though it wasn’t as though Bingo could truly call her that. He tilted his head to the side, offering himself up, but instead of a bite came a light kiss. The little devil was playing again. She could never sit still…
Dogs were trained, but could foxes be trained?
She was cool to the touch. Not cold like ice, but in the stale heat of the room her body temperature felt pleasantly cool. Bingo stroked her thighs again, then let go, and Uran frowned at once.
“Getting cocky, you filthy mutt?”
“What did you call me?”
“Jerk.”
She nipped him on the shoulder, then coiled herself around him. Maybe she wasn’t a fox after all. Maybe she was a snake. Though she changed her animal masks faster than anyone could grow used to them. One day she was one thing, the next day someone entirely different. So fickle… Some people found it infuriating, but Bingo liked that little element of unpredictability. You could always expect surprises from Uran, though they were never unpleasant. It was the enemies who suffered, and who cared about them? Yura was right — there was no point getting distracted.
And right now… he probably had no reason to think about anything else either.
Bingo sighed again and slid his hands down to her waist. Yeah… what a size. His hands, that is…
“Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll break you.”
“Oh, please. Life hasn’t managed to grind me into dust, so what exactly do you think you can do on your own?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted with genuine concern. “What if I squeeze the wrong way? Coitus is a delicate science, you know. It’s not like making a wardrobe from an instruction manual.”
Uran’s thin lips curled into a grin.
“Insert the bolt until you hear the click…”
“Look at her, cracking jokes. But what if I mess up? Do you realize how many problems that’d cause?”
“Bingo, I’m not made of crystal. I’m not going to shatter.”
“But to me, you’re like crystal. Beautiful…”
She liked compliments. And she liked crystal because it reminded her of ice. Thin, delicate, cold and so beautiful. Sometimes Uran left frost patterns blooming across windowpanes, as though they were a signature. I was here. I am here. I exist. Bingo often found himself staring at them, admiring them. Sometimes he even wondered whether Uran’s touch carried some deeper meaning, though she might simply have wanted to be naughty, or perhaps touched the glass by accident and her sorcery had blossomed, giving birth to a frost flower or an intricate pattern.
Breathing out, Bingo buried his nose against her shoulder. Uran always smelled nice. Fresh… Like winter. Once he’d joked that she smelled like laundry detergent from a commercial, and she hadn’t spoken to him for a week afterward. But it really was a pleasant, delicate scent… And if you touched Uran for too long, you could feel your eyelashes beginning to freeze over. A dusting of frost. But her eyelashes? Never, though.
Beautiful. But deliberate. She had perfect control over it.
“More like a diamond. Did you know? It has the highest hardness on the Mohs scale.”
“That’s not exactly romantic.”
“I think,” Uran declared proudly, “that’s the best thing a girl could ever hear. A perfect gift.”
“Ugh. Stereotypes. How boring.”
“No, idiot. I’m just broke. So are you. So is everyone here, we’re all dirt poor. This couch is garbage, and the fan doesn’t even cool the room. I’m sure Yura’s shirt came from some crappy bargain store too. Cheapness everywhere. But can you imagine how much those diamonds would sell for? Think of everything we could have…”
Bingo lifted his head from her shoulder and straightened up, and the two of them looked each other right in the eyes. Then he thoughtfully scratched his chin, and Uran immediately copied the gesture.
“Yeah… That would be nice.”
“And that,” Uran replied with satisfaction, “is exactly why it’s the best gift.”