Story: Smart Succubus

 

Keito knew her place, and she knew it very well; Just beneath the fox.

She stood with military stillness before the brutal gaze of Kuyō, the fire-eyed Youko who led the Public Safety Commission like a feudal warlord. Every student feared him and with good reason. He’d turned a disciplinary role into a private reign of terror. But he lacked imagination. He preferred fear to foresight. It is better to be feared than loved, isn't that right Machiavelli? 

Heh. Well, then. That was where she came in. To properly implement the human's insights into leadership. Except she'd do it from underneath, with a mind to one day, perhaps, sitting upon the throne rather than whispering into the ear of the one sitting upon it.

"You summoned me, Chairman," she said, bowing low, eyes angled downward in a show of submission.

Kuyō didn’t look up from his seated perch, a wide stone chair surrounded by flickering blue fire. "Report."

Keito’s lips curled faintly. Just a whisper of silk at the edge of her voice. She must be obsequious, for now. She had no illusions that even with her level of intelligence, she could so much as scratch his cheek. He would burn her webbings long before they reached him, and after that, she'd wish that he'd burned her as well.

“There’s been movement in the freshman ranks. A disturbance centered around two female students: Mizore Shirayuki and Kurumu Kurono.”

“Names I do not care about,” Kuyō said flatly.

“You will,” she replied smoothly. “One is an A-class elemental. Controlled. Cold. Methodical. The other is a succubus—less refined, but dangerous in a different way. Social. Strategic, without even knowing she is.”

Kuyō’s eyes flicked toward her. She had his interest. Good. Now to stir things up a touch. 

“I’ve seen the early signs of conflict,” she continued. “It’s emotional now, but that will evolve. Jealousy, obsession, territorial instinct. All I need to do is give it a little... encouragement.”

“And why waste time with girl fights?”

“Because they’re orbiting something greater,” Keito said, stepping forward. “Moka Akashiya. She’s connected to both.”

Kuyō went still. Of course he recognised the name. The only thing to make S-Class yokai nervous was the presence of another S-Class. Especially one from such fine breeding, and exquisite influence.

“I’ve seen the transformation,” she said, lowering her voice. “Once. In the forest, when a third-year tried to corner her. She peeled him off the ground in seconds.”

Kuyō's glare darkened. “The sealed one.”

Keito smiled inwardly. There it is. The fear beneath the power. In the end, all tyrants fear challenges to their rule. They rule with an iron fist, and are wary of what might happen to them if their power slips out of it. Will they find themselves crushed? Their name spat upon openly? Or perhaps this one feared instead the chaos that would reign within the school without him there to assuage it? Not an unreasonably fear. Despite the school's intentions, students and faculty alike were beholden to their instincts. Even Keito herself caught her thinking going in certain directions that would not work within human society. 

“She could be a threat to you... or a very effective distraction. I’m preparing for both.”

Kuyō stood, his aura flaring like wildfire. There was nothing wild about it - those flames were controlled, and hot enough to sear the soul.

“You presume much.”

“I observe much.” She bowed again, lower this time. “I serve. But I prepare.”

He met her statement with a brief silence. Then, to her surprise, he chuckled. Once. She'd never heard him laugh before. He made sounds approximating laughter when burning those foolish enough to stand up to him - but a chuckle? How new.

“You’re a venomous little thing,” he said, turning away. “Fine. Stir your little drama. But if it gets out of hand, you clean it up with your own webs. After all, those who oppose me, oppose Yokai Academy itself. You may leave at your leisure.”

“As you wish, Chairman.”

She turned to leave, but her mind was already spinning.

Let Mizore stalk Kurumu. Let Kurumu charm the boys and frustrate her. Let them circle each other like oil and water... Until one snaps. Then Kuyō will be forced to act. Or Moka will. Either way... The fire fox burns. And she alone will inherit what’s left.

All it will take is a little more of a push. Because as useful as his seeming invincible power might be, he was most certainly not invincible. Only to the likes of her. How might he fare against the silver haired vampire, if they came to blows? Might the werewolf come to her rescue? Or was he too traumatised by the year before to make the attempt?

The best part was, even if they failed, she'd still win in the end. After all, she'd have a better idea of his limits. She'd see how he fought and struggled against his peers, while she could simply play dumb. Now then. Let's see, shall we? She'd sent Mizore off to have an argument with Kurumu, had she not?

Very well. In that case! Let's go and find out, shall we? 

====

The stone doors groaned shut behind Keito. Silence lingered like smoke. Only then, with her gone, from the shadowed corner, Morisaki snorted. Loud and dismissive.

“She talks like she’s already in charge,” he growled, stretching out his arms. The thick veins across his forearms pulsed like coiled ropes. “Someone ought to remind her what happens to uppity insects.”

“You volunteering?” Satō asked, leaning against the wall with arms crossed. His voice was low and sharp, like a razor sharp scalpel made of ice. Morisaki growled under his breath. He wouldn’t. Not without Kuyō’s blessing.

Deshiko, who had remained oddly still through the exchange, finally moved, cracking her neck like a beast shaking off a muzzle. “She’s useful. The Chairman likes results. And she gets them.”

Morisaki scoffed. “Chairman likes control. She’s playing games with unstable girls and hoping it blows up on schedule.”

“It’s not loyalty,” Satō said quietly. “Not from her. It’s ambition. You can smell it on her.”

A beat of silence fell upon the room. The lot of them were, after all, ravenous predators, whose only cage was their fear. The fear of a man who would incinerate them all if he so much as suspected them of going against his will

Then Deshiko laughed, a low, gravelly sound, and broke that spell for at least a little while. That man was not here right now, after all, he'd gone out the back entrance to muse on matters further. “Who cares? Kuyō’s the only thing that matters. He lets us off the leash.”

She stepped forward, her boots hitting the floor like dropped weights. “When was the last time the school actually listened to us?” she continued. “Before Kuyō, we were a joke. Now? We’re wolves. We're the ones that get to pick first who we devour.”

Satō looked away. “More like foxes in a burning forest.”

Morisaki chuckled at that. “Still smells like victory to me. Meat's better cooked anyway, helps the digestive process along.”

The air shimmered faintly. The blue kitsune flames that surrounded the throne pulsed in time with Kuyō’s heartbeat, everpresent, all-consuming. None of them looked toward it. Not directly. They could see that he was not here, and that was all that mattered to them.

“I’ll follow him until I stop breathing,” Deshiko said. “Not because I like him. Because he lets me be who I am.”

“And what if he falls?” Satō asked, so softly it was almost a whisper.

Deshiko’s eyes narrowed. “Then we burn with him.”

No one responded. But deep in the shadow where the walls met the floor, a faint shimmer of silver thread clung unnoticed to the stone. A listening strand of silk. 

=====

Outside the room Keito plucked the thread free from her finger and wound it back into a coil. A simple little trick - sound reverberates into a carefully pressed thread. The Soviets used something even more clever than this to spy on a Western diplomat's office, allowing them to send radio waves without using a scrap of metal. Something like this, in comparison, was child's play.

“So even the wolves know they’re dogs,” she whispered. “Good.”

She moved a marker on her mental chessboard. A small figure labeled Kurumu, sliding it closer to a frozen pawn marked Mizore. Let them fight. Let the flames rise. She just has to make sure she's the last one left when the fire dies out again.

And the thing about flames? The brighter they burn, the sooner they go out. All she'd have to do was find a way to starve it of fuel.