Elizabeth A. Freeman Shirogitsune 
 
 
   
      Toushi knelt beside his futon, his gaze falling upon the mask that lay beside his pillow. It had been four months but he could clearly remember the first time he had encountered the owner of the mask. With a sigh he lay down, staring at the ceiling and thinking back to that night. 
 
     The autumn leaves skittered across the stones of the temple courtyard like brittle skeletons in a delicate waltz. The remains of their dance would be there in the morning for Toushi to sweep away as he went about his morning tasks but at the moment he sat upon the stairs of the main temple building and watched them. The setting sun cast a golden glow on the world. As the last rays of the sun slipped beneath the horizon Toushi rose, strolling inside to his private quarters. A small fireplace warmed the room. His few possessions were set against one wall while his futon lay in the middle of the room.  
 
      "No one came today. I don't even know if anyone even remembers this place.” 
  Toushi thought somberly as he slipped off his formal robes, letting them fall to the floor. He had long abandoned the perfection of neatly folding them. He gingerly tugged the blanket back and then moved to curl beneath its warmth.   
 
      “It's okay. Even if no one comes, I'll stay here. Who will remember to honor the old gods if I don't?” 
  Toushi mused, letting his eyes slip closed. Sleep came easily, the sounds of cicada humming gently outside soothing away any remaining tension of the day.  
 
     A sharp crack like the roar of thunder woke him abruptly, and he sat upright. To his left the sliding screen leading into his room rattled and he could make out the silhouette of a figure lit by the harvest moon. A chill of fear rocketed up his spine and he remained frozen as the screen slid open. Before him stood a tall figure, lithe but masculine with skin the color of snow. A mask halfway obstructed the stranger's face. Shaped like the face of a fox it was a pale blue accented with silver details. A silver crest adorned the fox's forehead with a single gem that shimmered in hues of blue, green, and gold.  
 
     “You are Toushi?” delicate almost feminine lips moved beneath the nose of the mask, accompanied by a soft husky voice.  
 
     “Yes?” he found himself answering. Part of him cried out to question this masked invader, yet curiosity held his fear and suspicion at bay.  
 
     “Then you are the one they spoke of. The one who was named after death by freezing, for his mother died in the snow while giving birth. You have maintained this temple by yourself for over a decade?” the masked guest questioned, crossing the room to stare down at his writing desk. It seemed to Toushi that this masked man seemed to glide rather than move with the jaunty locomotion of a normal stride. With his back turned to Toushi the priest had a better vantage of the long silver tresses that hung in braided tendrils down to the stranger's mid back. As his gaze drifted lower his eyes widened. At the point where the man's spine should have ended a small hole was cut in the back of the ornate robes he wore and a long bushy silver tail swished in slow strokes. 
 
     “Yes... Who are you, and who spoke of me?” Toushi intoned hesitantly. In a smooth movement the masked man turned and moved to his bedside, kneeling beside him.  
 
     “The ones to whom this temple is dedicated, my people. The Kitsune. You may call me Shiro.” the man answered, reaching out to stroke Toushi's cheek gently. At the words Toushi thought his eyes might jump out of their sockets. The shock must have been apparent on his face as soft lilting laughter escaped the full pale lips beneath the rim of the mask. 
 
     “We have agreed that for all your dedication to our kind that you must be rewarded.” Shiro's lips curved into a smile and his crimson eyes sparkled. Toushi opened his mouth to speak but his words were silenced as the fox deity leaned in and kissed him. Shiro's fingers stroked his spine with ghosting touches as his tongue caressed the priest's. After what seemed an eternity they finally parted.  
 
     In a single shrug of his shoulders Shiro discarded his robes, bearing his pale skin. The fox god spared but a moment to extract his tail from the clothing before pressing Toushi back against the futon and covering his body with his own. Questions rushed through Toushi's mind but lost their way to his lips as Shiro's fingertips and mouth burned away all coherent thought. Time seemed to slow and the world grew silent as Shiro pleasured him with those beautiful lips stroking his aching cock. Their hushed moans the only sound as Shiro made love to him. The pleasure building until the world was washed away in a blur of sensation.  
 
     “When you awaken your temple shall be the most grand and shall be visited by patrons from far and wide, my beautiful priest.” Shiro whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Toushi's forehead. 
 
     “I want to see your face...” Toushi panted, the last convulsions of his orgasm still wracking his body.  
 
     “Shhhh... The next time we meet you shall. Until then, sleep.” Shiro murmured, and at the command Toushi felt his consciousness slipping away from him.  
 
     When he awoke at dawn all that remained was Shiro's mask beside his pillow. As he dressed and prepared to set about his morning duties he found that the old, decrepit temple was as though it had just been built. Outside in the front courtyard villagers had gathered to offer their prayers to the fox gods, yet none other than Toushi seemed to recall the former deteriorated state of the temple. 
 
 
 
 
 Publication Date: November 11th 2011 https://www.bookrix.com/-ddsgale