Chapter 23

  In just a few minutes, Duria stepped forward again, this time holding what looked to be a dark blue pair of undergarments.

  “Uhh… Lady Gonter would like you to try these on, to make sure they fit correctly,” Duria said as she handed the garment to Ben. “There are dressing rooms right over there,” she added, pointing.

  The young woman still couldn’t meet Ben’s eyes, but he politely took the garment. “Thank you.”

  With a nod she scurried back to the workroom.

  Ben looked at the changing room and its low ceiling and sighed. Then he simply dropped the blanket he’d been wearing onto the floor and stepped into the new garment, careful not to tear the fabric with his hooves.

  Fuku was there to help in an instant. He touched the fabric, commenting on how soft and stretchy it felt. He also touched… well, everything else.

  “It’s like a second skin, Ben.”

  Ben felt awkward—not only because Fuku was getting a little too touchy, but because of the way the strange new garment held everything firmly in place.

  These things were made of a soft material that covered him from waist to mid-thigh. But instead of hanging loosely or requiring some sort of tie to keep them in place, this material stretched to conform, remaining tight against his hide at all points where they touched.

  He took a few steps trying them out; there was no bunching or pulling. In fact, he had to admit that it felt good not to have the constant swaying between his legs.

  “These feel nice, actually,” he said after bending and stretching, putting the new garment through its paces.

  The seamstress moved up to the counter and climbed onto her seat, using one long arm to easily pull her short body up onto the stool with practiced ease.

  “That’s a new material I just received from Karta. It’s flexible and is supposed to retain its stretch for a long time. If they work for you, then they’ll work for everyone,” the seamstress said, then turned to Fuku. “Thanks for the idea. That design is gonna make me a lot of money.”

  “Glad I could help,” Fuku said slyly. “So we get that one on the house then, right?”

  The seamstress stared at him. Fuku stared back.

  She drew on her pipe and exhaled a plume of purple smoke toward Fuku. “Fine… but only because you insisted on three. I’ll only charge you for two.”

  With that, she waggled her brows and strode toward the back of the shop, wand waving in quick, excited arcs.

  “She’s fun,” Fuku commented as she left.

  Ben moved close to Fuku and whispered, “I don’t have money, Fuku. I honestly don’t know how it even works now. I hope this isn’t too expensive. I don’t want you to have to pay for my things.”

  Fuku waved his hand as if it were a paltry thing, “Don’t worry about it. I have lots of money, I get it from the dungeons—so we’ll find more in the next one. Besides,” his face turned mischievous as he looked up at Ben and whispered, “you can pay me back tonight.”

  Ben sighed. Ever since that kiss, he’d worried how far Fuku wanted to take things. His body simply didn’t work that way now. He had enjoyed the kiss—liked the affection they shared. He even looked forward to cuddling… maybe even more kissing later. But Fuku was probably hoping for more than he could give.

  He knew how typical male urges worked. Once things started, more was expected. Ben didn’t mind touching, closeness—it was finally beginning to feel normal, at least with Fuku. But anything more? Anything truly physical… he wasn’t sure he could handle it, and he knew his body wouldn’t react.

  He feared Fuku would wind up disappointed. Ben wasn’t sure how either of them would deal with that.

  But he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

  So for now, he smiled and gently stroked Fuku’s back—not making promises, but not denying him either.

  ***

  The day drifted along lazily. They ran errands, indulged themselves, and explored.

  They left the tailor’s shop several hours later. Ben now wore what the seamstress had called a kilt over his new undergarments—a circle of pleated, patterned fabric that fell to his knees. The design was made of overlapping blue, black, and gray squares woven into an intricate pattern. A brown leather belt held it in place, buckling in the front and supporting two large pouches—one on each side.

  He also had a cloak with a clasp at the neck, large enough to wrap around his entire frame, with a billowing hood that had small ringlets to slide over the tips of his horns. Ben remained shirtless, preferring to keep his chest open, which Fuku didn’t mind in the slightest.

  Fuku now had a pale-blue vest of his own, with ornately engraved silver buttons. It was cut just low enough to cover his tummy and his… “radish,” while still leaving his sack unencumbered.

  He’d also purchased a cloak for when the temperatures began to drop. It was made of the same material as Ben’s and nearly the same design—just without the horn ringlets. But even so, his didn’t have quite the same grandiose flare as Ben’s.

  When Ben had tried his cloak on, Fuku could’ve sworn it ruffled out in an unfelt breeze—like some hero from the past—even though they’d been inside the shop.

  But when Fuku tried on his cloak… nothing.

  No heroic flutter. No dramatic billow.

  Just a well-made cloak on a regular-sized Tanuki.

  (Okay… maybe a little rounder than average.)

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  Both outfits had cost a little over seven gold. Fuku was happy to pay, though he noticed Ben seemed a little tentative at the amount.

  ***

  They hit the general mercantile next and re-stocked on traveling supplies: dried breads, meats, cheeses, vegetables, sausage, and beans. It all went straight into Fuku's tail.

  This village was exactly what a village should be. Its cobblestone road wound from one end to the other, with the businesses and houses forming a ring around it.

  As they exited the store, the scent of fresh bread pulled them down the street, their stomachs empty having missed the mid-day meal. A bakery, its windows fogged with warmth, was turning out fresh loaves, so they stepped in hungry and left moments later with hot, thick slices of fresh bread dripping with butter and jam.

  Next, they walked further out where they found a blacksmith's forge. Fuku’s bounce quickened at the thought of seeing the big, burly blacksmith, and he practically towed Ben along behind.

  Ben didn't protest, knowing his companion had a thing for that particular build of man.

  They peered inside for a moment, but a thick, acrid smoke blew back from the forge, stinging their throats, so they moved on—without finding any eye candy.

  As they followed the edge of town, they came upon the open door of a tavern, rowdy laughter spilling into the street. Eager for a drink, Fuku urged them forward, giving Ben a push from behind—and earning a tail swat for his trouble. But just as they drew near, the crash of breaking glass and the thud of splintering wood made them pause, then quietly steer themselves toward a less turbulent part of town.

  They still had their tail following them—Rakxa and Ralf—and though they could probably quiet things down in the tavern, the two of them didn’t want the guards to have to work any more than they already were.

  Besides, Fuku was happy just to spend time with Ben. He knew they needed to get going soon, but taking a small refresher like this was always welcome. Having someone he cared for by his side, and being able to walk around without having to disguise himself, was the foam on the ale, so to speak, and he bounced along in quiet contentment.

  Ben, meanwhile, felt a quieter emotion settling in: envy. This wasn’t his village, and he knew their quest had only just begun, but here was a place where they could walk the streets without fear or judgment. It didn’t seem to matter that he was the Minotaur; no one cared that Fuku bounced along beside him, paw in hand. It wasn’t home—but it could be.

  The afternoon gave way to evening, and they went back to the dining hall—which was apparently also the town's inn—and got a room for the night before sitting down for a meal.

  ***

  Rakxa had stayed with them all day, trailing behind. Ralf left as they returned to the town center and was replaced by a new guard, another canine of some sort, but with shorter fur and a sleeker build.

  “Rakxa, come sit and eat,” Ben called out to the guard captain.

  She stared at Ben, her expression a mix of hesitation and fear.

  “We aren’t going to bite,” Ben said, waving the two guards forward. “Please, you haven’t eaten since this morning. You need to keep up your strength.”

  “Sir Minotaur, it’s our duty to make sure all is safe. We can eat when our job is finished,” she said as she approached.

  “Then consider your job finished,” Ben replied. “I’m not going anywhere else, and neither is Fuku. We’ll be staying the night, then moving on. Oh, and please… it’s just Ben, there’s no sirs here. And you really don’t have to worry about me anymore. Fuku is right here.”

  Ben patted the Tanuki’s head.

  Rakxa hesitated, glanced around the room, then looked back at Ben and Fuku. A low growl-purr vibrated in her throat as she weighed her decision… but at last, she sat and motioned for the other guard to join her.

  “This is Jalek,” Rakxa introduced the new guard.

  “Nice to meet you, Jalek,” Ben said.

  Fuku was too busy stuffing his face with roasted meat and salted potatoes to converse much, instead lifting a paw holding a small, meat-covered bone and giving a small wave in greeting.

  The meal was pleasant, the guards slowly opening up and sharing bits about life in the village.

  “I mean, this place is nice, but it could be bigger. I think everyone’s been anticipating something big to happen, so no one ever really pushed forward. And… well… it happened, just not in the way anyone expected—” Jalek trailed off.

  Rakxa exhaled slowly, then picked up where Jalek had left off. “I think the hardest part was the waiting. Now that it’s over—well… what happens now?” Her ears folded down in a resigned tilt. “I know these people. Some will hope you stay, others are ready for you to leave… but most don’t know what to believe anymore. Where do you go from there?”

  Ben wasn’t sure how to respond. The entire day had been a rollercoaster. “I’m sorry I’m not the hero you were hoping for,” he said at last. “But that isn’t my path.”

  “I understand,” Rakxa said softly. “It’s just difficult to believe something for so long, only to have it taken away so quickly. What do people replace that belief with?”

  Jalek added, “Everyone needs something to look forward to, a dream of something better.”

  Fuku yawned, then cut in. “You guys put way too much stock in that old prophecy. Look at what you’ve built here. This town is clean and prosperous. You already deal with the humans. Sure, they don’t see you as equals—but why would you want to be? Go sniff the air in one of their cities and tell me why you’d ever want to be like them.”

  The guards exchanged glances, brows knitting, then looked back at Fuku—who was casually picking his teeth with a claw.

  “You should just keep doing what you’re doing,” he continued, flicking a crumb to the floor. “You’ve already got a nicer town than most I’ve seen—and I’ve been to a lot of towns like this.”

  Fuku leaned back, patting his extended tummy. “You said people have been holding back? Well… no reason to anymore. Expand, keep building, and keep the pride you have in this place. Show the world what a Beast-kin village can be.”

  He let out a contented burp. “‘Scuse me… But seriously—you don’t need a prophecy or a hero. Look forward. This place can stand on its own. That elder-guy seems to be running things just fine. And if not him—whoever’s in charge should lean into it. Make this somewhere anyone would feel comfortable visiting.”

  Both guards stared at the little round furball with new consideration.

  Ben hadn’t missed the shift—especially in Rakxa. The lioness’s ears flicked, her gaze dropping to the table, her expression going distant.

  “Hrrrmmm…” she purred.

  She wasn’t seeing the wood grain anymore; whatever Fuku had said was still turning over in her mind.

  “I think Fuku is right,” Ben said gently. “This town is wonderful. You’ve accomplished so much. The prophecy only complicated things. Look at everything this community has already accomplished.”

  Fuku, oblivious to the quiet turmoil he’d stirred, tugged at Ben’s arm. “Can we go to sleep now? I can’t remember the last time I slept on a real bed.”

  The guards exchanged a nod, then bowed to them both.

  “Yes. Sleep well,” Rakxa said. “And… thank you for your words. You’re right—this village has done well, and there’s no reason we shouldn’t keep building on that.”

  “Yeah, I guess your companion really is more than just an emotional support pe… person,” Jalek said, catching himself.

  Fuku’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

  Rakxa’s paw snapped out and swatted Jalek’s arm, her own steely gaze silencing him instantly. His ears drooped and his tail curled between his legs.

  And with that, they left.

  Ben watched them leave. He still felt a little weak here in the inn, but it was tolerable, and the kitchen staff had accommodated him without question. He wondered how much gold Fuku had slipped them, and chuckled to himself.

  “I guess they finally believe I’m not going to go berserk,” Ben murmured as the door closed behind them.

  He looked down at Fuku, expecting a response. He had been braced for a long evening of talking, questions, hopefully some decisions being made—and of course, Fuku’s… desires. But instead he found the Tanuki snoring gently in his chair, his head pillowed on one small paw. As Ben watched, Fuku’s head slipped, and he half-woke with a start. “Wha…?”

  Ben smiled and chuckled again. “Let’s go to bed,” he said, gently scooping Fuku up.

  “Yeah… I’m sleepy,” Fuku slurred, his eyes closing once more as his head sagged against Ben’s chest.

  “Me too,” Ben said as he carried him toward their room.