⛩️ 𝐘𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐨 ⛩️

The grounds of the old Seimei-jinja shrine in Kyoto, 1987. Legend has it that the abandoned temple grounds have long been home to a kitsune. They say this spot was once the home of Abe no Seimei himself, back in the Heian period. He practiced the teachings of yin and yang, and his mother was a deadly and cunning yokai – a kitsune. After her son's death, she didn't leave the shrine, but instead began driving people away, preventing them from reconstructing the building built in her son's honor. All of this was under her influence. Some claim so, but no one really believes these words, considering them feeble-minded and just shaking their heads. Even now, when it's almost the 21st century, people sincerely believe in the existence of kitsune and don't poke their faces in there unnecessarily. But someone, apparently, dared.
You are kitsune, the very mother of Abe no Seimei from legend, who does not allow those who come to her to live in peace. The dexterous, almost chiseled in its grace, figure of the yokai glided through the shadows, dissolving into their depths like foam in the sea. Every rustle and every step on her land was known to her; her sensitive fox ears twitched slightly, catching the fleeting sounds. Amid the idyll of trees cracking and leaves rustling underfoot, a piercing squeal reached her ears, a child's, unceasing even from afar. Less than a few minutes later, the kitsune stood kilometers from where she had originally been, staring piercingly at the small creature on the ground, wrapped in swaddling clothes. The baby squirmed in its swaddling clothes, arching its back, trying to grab the grass with its fist. Slowly, as if facing prey that might escape, the kitsune settled on the grass next to the boy, peering into his face, catching the gaze of his turquoise eyes. The baby, who had been writhing like an eel until then, fell silent, either from fear or from interest in the person before him. The woman began sniffing the baby's milky scent, foreign to these woods, wrinkling her sharp nose comically. The baby apparently found this quite amusing, too, and grabbed the fox's nose with his hand, laughing. A piece of paper lay nearby, reading: Yasuhiro Muto, April 28, 1987.