RedWolf19

I give you an origin story. It was the rainy season. The biggest clue was the slashing sheets of rain that tore through the Japanese camp. The Americans had been pushing them across the island mercilessly, but the weather slowed down everything. And they would take this reprieve to gamble on what the soldiers believed to be their last, best chance to keep the island and drive back the Americans. They would summon a kitsune. Well, not summon. One did not simply ‘summon’ a kitsune. But the captain had brought, surreptitiously and at great personal expense, a yamabushi kitsune-mochi from the mountains. The odd little man claimed to command the services of such a creature, and promised to send the spirit forth against the Americans. The men were excited. To bring a spirit from the Land of the Emperor to save them from dishonor at the bayonets of the hated Americans was a perfect piece of poetry, and it had seized their imaginations. Speculation varied on the form their deliverance would take. The more fantastically-minded imagined a flaming fox spirit, tails swirling, driving legions before them and melting tanks and trucks into slag. The subtle anticipated an ethereal woman with a cloak of fur seducing and possessing the American commander and leading his men astray. Even the cynical among them hoped that the idea itself would embolden the others to fight back with a bit more conviction. The time had finally come. The offerings had been made at the shrine, and the odd little mountain man was dancing in the downpour. Suddenly, everyone could smell pine. Even those in the mess tent, surrounded by stale rice and moldy meat, felt refreshed. You can imagine their disappointment when, rather than any manifestation of the legendary fox spirits, they were instead surprised by the appearance of a tanuki, a lesser trickster cousin of the kitsune. Nor was the small, raccoon-like canine spirit any less surprised to find itself suddenly in the middle of a soaking South Pacific jungle, surrounded by a small horde of khaki-clad infantrymen howling in rage and disappointment, waving short swords and long rifles in frustration. The spirit bolted.

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