It’s hard to be grumpy about a four-in-the-morning shift when you have three fluffy fox tails to keep you warm and enough foxfire to fire up the ovens. At the time, I was blissfully unaware of the chaos waiting for me just down the street.

In the hush of the early morning, my bakery felt like the coziest place in Willowmere, filled with warmth, sweetness, and the soft glow of my aqua-colored foxfire. The aroma of cinnamon and vanilla wafted through the air, creating a comforting atmosphere that wrapped me in its warm embrace. Although I’d been hard at work for hours already, the sun had only just cleared the horizon, its watery light illuminating the winter wonderland outside my shop's windows.

Willowmere’s main street not only looked magical; it was magical. It was lined with a witch-owned coffee shop, a diner with fire-breathing waitresses, and a dress shop whose mermaid proprietor could make you a gown that shimmered as iridescently as her own scales. Elves and dryads frequented these establishments alongside fae and vampires; humans were the only species not permitted within its borders.

Now that it was January, however, a peaceful lull had fallen over the small, snow-dusted town. And as much as I loved the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, I was grateful for the change of pace. Since my bakery’s busiest time of year was nearly over, I would soon be able to finally take a much-needed break.

Well, once Valentine’s Day was over. After Christmas, it was my busiest day of the year. At least I had plenty of time to recover and prepare for it…but I’d think about all that later.

I took a moment to inspect my shop; Tails & Treats was my pride and joy, and I wanted to make sure that it was always warm and welcoming. The storefront itself was small but inviting, with wide windows framed in soft cream paint with hand-carved cherry blossom motifs along the trim. Pink paper lanterns hung beneath the eaves year-round, gently rustling in the cool breeze. A chalkboard sign out front listed the day’s specials in my neatest handwriting, with tiny fox doodles in the corners. On busy mornings, illusionary flower petals often drifted lazily down from the ceiling, and there was almost always a line of customers lingering outside, chatting and smiling as they looked over the shelves. 

The air inside was rich with the aroma of fresh bread, butter, and sugar, with an undercurrent of magic that hummed contentedly beneath it all. Golden sunlight poured through the windows to catch on glass jars filled with sprinkles, dried fruit, and hard candies. The counter’s polished wood was worn smooth by years of elbows and anticipation, and behind it the open kitchen revealed more shelves stacked with mixing bowls, flour sacks, and cooling racks crowded with cookies and pastries. Pink-and-white tiles lined the floors, and potted cherry tree saplings—enchanted to stay forever in bloom—sat in the corners. Their traditional blue and white pots were one of the few things I brought with me from Japan, along with some basic baking supplies.

But more than the design of my shop, I was incredibly proud of the treats it held.

An entire section of the wooden shelves was devoted just to breads; loaves of sourdough and whole grain sat next to baguettes and savory rolls. I had also included popular bakery items from my homeland, Japan, such as milk bread and almond bread.

Where the breads were fairly well-stocked, however, I was running low on some of my sweets. The pastry cases with classic cupcakes and cake slices were doing alright, and I still had a good number of fox-shaped cookies and croissants. But I was nearly out of mochi and macarons, and the section for danishes and donuts could use some replenishing. Not to mention I needed to make some fresh scones and mango puddings. And I couldn’t forget about stocking up on moon cakes for next month too…

At least I had a couple of employees to help me make everything now. Alice and Kiki were absolute lifesavers; I never could have managed to get through the holiday rush without them. How I had managed before hiring them was a mystery to me.

Thanks to them, I was looking forward to finally taking a little vacation in the spring. For once, I’d like to actually have enough time to go to the annual Cherry Blossom Festival.

I hummed one of my favorite Christmas tunes to myself as I kneaded the next batch of dough for the cinnamon rolls—which had also run dangerously low. My three fox tails swished behind me as I moved, flicking back and forth in time with the tune.

My fox ears twitched as the bell over the door chimed, alerting me to the arrival of my first customer of the day. I wiped my hands on my apron as I moved to the front counter.

“Good morning, Mrs. Mason,” I greeted the portly demi-fae. Her slightly pointed ears poked out from her dark hair, which hung to her shoulders, and she was dressed in her I-just-got-all-my-kids-up-and-fed, so-now-I’m-ready-for-a-nap look.

“Good morning, Kana,” she replied with a tired smile. She made a bee-line for the sale baskets on top of the display case, where I still had a few bags of Christmas cookies and New Years meringues I needed to sell. “I always look forward to seeing what new confections you’ve come up with.”

“That is so ‘sweet’ of you to say!” I chuckled at my own pun, and was thrilled when Mrs. Mason laughed aloud.

“Good one!” 

“I’ll give you an extra ten percent off the fifty percent sale price,” I offered when I saw her debating between two more bags of cookies over one bag of meringues. In a household with seven children, I knew the sweets would disappear quickly.

“You just might be ‘sweeter’ than your pastries!” The woman put her hand over her heart.

“You’re doing me a big favor, after all; I need to clear out the rest of my Christmas goodies so I can make room for the Valentine’s Day ones!” 

“In that case, I’ll take both bags of cookies and the meringues.” She placed them on the counter so she could fish out her wallet, and gave me a sly look when she handed me her card. “Will you be spending Valentine’s Day with anyone special this year?”

I winced internally, and my tails puffed up defensively. She sounded just like my own mother—and there was a reason I’d put an entire ocean in between us. “Just my wonderful staff, Kiki and Alice.”

“Not that strapping oni chap who’s been frequenting Tails & Treats as of late?” She gave me a wink, clearly convinced that there was something I wasn’t saying.

“Nope.” I charged her card and handed it back with a smile that felt a little forced. The oni demon in question had been coming in rather frequently, and he was certainly not bad-looking…but though flirting with him over the last few months had been fun, he had yet to actually ask me out. Which made me wonder if he simply flirted with every girl he met.

But I didn’t exactly want to tell Mrs. Mason that. If I did, then the whole town was bound to hear of it within the week.

“Well, alright dearie, if you say so.” The wink she gave me as she collected her sweets told me she didn’t believe me.

“Thank you, please come again!” I said as she turned and headed out the door.

Returning my focus to the cinnamon buns, I quickly flattened the dough, putting a little of my frustration into the familiar motion, before sprinkling on a generous amount of my own cinnamon spice and vanilla blend. After that, it was the work of a moment to cut the dough into strips, roll up each one, and pop them onto a baking tray. I slid them into the preheated oven and set the timer.

While I was prepping the icing, the bell chimed again, and I looked up to see Kiki walk in with the grace only a feline shifter could possess. She was already dressed in her pink bakery uniform, and had her thick, dark hair pulled up in a bun, which was perfectly framed by her black cat ears.

“Morning, Kana,” she said with a yawn. 

“Good morning, Kiki,” I replied cheerfully, as I dumped a bag of confectioner’s sugar into our massive mixer, which I had affectionately nicknamed Big Bertha.

“How you can be so chipper this early in the morning is beyond me.” Kiki set her bag down in the back, and pulled on her gloves as she joined me. 

“It’s not as hard to get up early when you get to do what you love.” I gave her a bright smile as I put the rest of the ingredients into Big Bertha and turned the paddle on, so it could begin mixing the icing. “Though it does get easier with practice.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Kiki grumbled. “Waking up this early before my alarm even goes off—naturally!” When she realized what I was making, she perked up, and her long black tail began twitching back and forth. “Cinnamon buns?”

“You guessed it.” Just then, the timer beeped, so I took the tray out of the oven and set it on a cooling rack. Their sweet and spicy aroma wafted out of the oven in waves, intensifying the already mouth-watering scent in the kitchen. “Which means we get to have a breakfast of champions.”

I checked on Big Bertha, and seeing that the icing was ready, turned her off. I got out a spatula, which I handed to Kiki. “Would you do the honors?”

“Absolutely!” She took to her task with gusto, her movements sharp and precise after more than a month of training, as she drenched the buns in a generous amount of icing.

Once she was done, we exchanged a glance, and she used the spatula to scoop up two of the steaming buns. Kiki handed one to me, and we both bit into them at the same time.

I hummed in satisfaction. It was gooey and delicious, with just the right balance of cinnamon and sweetness. There was nothing better than having one when they were fresh out of the oven like this.

“It’s so tasty,” Kiki said around a mouthful of heavenly goodness.

“Agreed.” I chuckled when I noticed that our tails had started swishing back and forth happily.

I did my best to savor my treat, but it was gone much too quickly. After washing my hands, I got out two boxes, filling one with some scones I had made earlier, and putting half of the cinnamon buns I’d just made into the other.

“Can you ‘hold down the fort’ as you Americans would say, while I deliver these to The Broom & Bean?”

“Of course,” Kiki replied.

“Great—I won’t be gone long.” Grabbing the two boxes, I carried them towards the door, which an incoming customer held open for me. I bobbed my head in thanks to her, and smiled to myself as I heard Kiki greet her.

Hiring some help was the best thing I ever did—well, after opening the bakery, of course!

The walk over to the magical coffee shop was a short one. Though my bakery opened the earliest out of every business on Willowmere’s main street, The Broom & Bean was a close second. The owner just so happened to be my best friend, a witch named Clove, and I was absolutely thrilled when she moved back to town this fall and opened her own shop—just down the street from mine. And since the products we offered went so well together, Clove sold some of my pastries in her shop, and I stocked some of her specialty coffee blends on my shelves.

However, as I neared the coffee shop, something seemed amiss. There was a dark, foreboding aura emanating from within the brick building, and my sensitive hearing could pick up muffled shouting from behind the purple-painted door, which had been left ajar. 

Alarm shot through me. Was Clove in trouble?!

Without knocking, I hooked my foot around the door and flung it open, my magic flaring to life as I summoned several orbs of ghostly blue foxfire to illuminate the shadowy recesses of the shop.

I came to an abrupt halt. All of the tables and chairs had been shoved against the walls, and in the center of the worn wooden floor, Thorne, Clove’s boyfriend, had a man wrapped in thick shadow chains. Sweat beaded on the shadowmancer’s forehead as he concentrated on keeping the bindings tight, even as his captive thrashed about madly. I caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes and horns, which protruded from a head of thick, black hair. A red line ran down his sharp cheekbones from his eyes like the twin trails of a tear, and if he hadn’t been roaring against the gag in his mouth, he would have been strikingly handsome.

With a jolt, I realized he was Japanese, just like me—and he was an oni, a demonic ogre of great strength. The menacing aura I had sensed was coming from him.

Willowmere’s werewolf sheriff and Clove hovered nearby, watching the oni struggle with expressions of concern and worry.

“What on earth is going on?!” I squeaked, my tails twitching anxiously.

The moment I spoke, however, the oni’s red, crazed eyes snapped to mine. I shivered. They were the wild eyes of a trapped animal, devoid of intelligent thought.

“Douse the lights!” Thorned grunted when one of the chains snapped, and he hastily reformed it before the oni could break free. “I need as many shadows as I can get!”

“Sorry!” I immediately extinguished my foxfire, plunging the room back into darkness.

Clove hurried over and took the boxes from my arms. “I’m so sorry, Kana, I completely lost track of time—I should have told you not to come. Thorne’s the only one in Willowmere who can contain him right now.”

I followed my best friend over to the counter, where she deposited the boxes. “Why is there a rampaging oni in your coffee shop?”

All three of them looked at me, but it was the sheriff who spoke. “You know what kind of magical creature he is?”

“Of course—he’s an oni, a Japanese demonic ogre,” I answered slowly. Apparently, none of them had encountered one before, though I really shouldn’t be surprised—Clove had no idea what a kitsune like me was until I explained it to her, either. Fox spirits who possessed illusion magic were rare outside of Japan, after all.

“Do you know how to calm him down?” Clove asked hopefully.

I took a few steps closer to the restrained ogre, my eyes returning to his glowing ones. Now that I was looking closer, I noticed that the whites of his eyes had turned black. “They normally don’t need calming, but… Let me try something.”

I had no idea if this would work, but maybe something familiar, something from his homeland, could help. This time, I only summoned one globe of foxfire. Red eyes immediately fixated on it.

Now that I had his attention, I used my magic to create an illusion that rippled outward from the ball of foxfire in a tidal wave. I made it appear as if I were wearing a kimono, a traditional Japanese dress, and made cherry trees grow up around the edges of the room. With a wave of my hand, I had them bloom, creating a curtain of vibrant pink flowers. An imaginary wind rustled the branches, causing the petals to fall around us like snow.

I watched his red eyes track the falling petals. I hid the others and the chains that bound him behind more illusions, and the oni’s thrashing immediately ceased, so Thorne allowed the gag to fall away. I sent out waves of calming energy, and used another imaginary breeze to send even more petals dancing into the air. They floated softly down to carpet the ground.

Once the oni was completely still, his breathing slowed. His horns retracted into his head, and the markings on his cheeks faded. As he watched the pink petals fall, the feral darkness in his eyes began to recede, until the red glow faded completely and he was staring at me with a vulnerable, awed expression on his face. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, so softly I barely heard him.

I blushed, feeling flustered. My concentration broken, the illusion faded, revealing the interior of the coffee shop once more. Thorne and Sheriff Connall were looking between us like I’d just performed some sort of miracle, but Clove was looking between us with raised eyebrows. A flush crept up my neck.

“Where am I? Who are you people?” The oni looked around wildly, his brows scrunching in confusion. But unlike before, he held himself very still—at least, until he looked down and realized he was bound by chains of shadow. Panic and a hint of fear crept into his voice when he asked, “What happened?”

Thorne and Connall shared a glance.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Thorne asked.

“I… After my plane landed in Seattle, I decided to explore the city a little. I walked through Pike Place Market and visited the piers, and then I headed through the downtown area on my way to the Space Needle when… When I was jumped by a group of humans dressed all in black. Their faces were covered, and they told me to give them my wallet, but when I reached to grab it, they must have thought I had a weapon, because they tried to stab me.”

I gasped, horrified, and covered my mouth. How terrible!

“And after that, I… I can’t remember.” The blood drained from his face, and he looked desperately between us. “Oh gods, I lost control, didn’t I? What happened?! Please, tell me I didn’t… I didn’t…”

“You sent four of the humans to the hospital, two with life-threatening injuries.” Sheriff Connall eyed the oni like he wasn’t quite sure if he believed his story, even though the oni hung his head in obvious shame at his words. “Last I heard, however, they were in stable condition. Which is the only reason why, when we were called in to deal with you, I asked Thorne to capture you alive.”

The oni’s shoulders shook with silent sobs. “Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

Connall and Thorne glanced at each other, shocked. His gravelly voice sounded so defeated that it broke my heart.

“Do you…have somewhere to go?” I asked gently. “Any family or friends you could stay with?”

The oni simply shook his head.

“We can’t just release him—what if he goes on another rampage, and we’re not there to stop him?” argued the sheriff. “Next time, he might expose us to the humans.”

“No real harm was done, though,” Clove protested. “The potions you slipped the humans will fog their memories and heal their wounds within the week.”

“Regular adventurers would be hard-pressed to restrain him—even I barely managed it. I might be the only one who can,” Thorne said seriously.

“Maybe we should send him back to Japan,” Sheriff Connall mused. “His own people could likely handle him better than we could here.”

“No!” The oni’s head snapped up, an expression of abject terror on his face. “Please don’t send me back! I’d rather go anywhere but there! You can keep me locked up in a dungeon for all I care.”

I scrunched up my nose in distaste. “Does Willowmere even have a dungeon?”

Connall shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Technically, no, but—I imagine Nocturne Castle does…”

The oni’s shoulders slumped, either in relief or defeat—perhaps both. He was looking at the two men with hollow eyes. I recognized that look—it was one I had seen in the mirror every day back when I still lived with my family in Japan.

My wariness instantly vanished, to be replaced by a deep sense of empathy.

Impulsively, I walked over and crouched down in front of him. The others tensed, but I ignored them—this man wasn’t going to harm me. 

“My name is Kana Inari. May I know yours?”

His eyes reluctantly found mine. “You can call me Kurogane,” he said after a moment of hesitation.

Interesting. Did that mean it was a nickname he went by, and not his real name?

“It’s nice to meet you, Kuro,” I said with a smile. He seemed startled that I’d skipped the formalities and gone straight to a nickname. “You can call me Kana.”

“Alright…Kana.” He looked at me with a confused expression, his dark brows scrunching together.

“If you don’t have anywhere else to go or things to do, why don’t you stay with me?”