The Fox in the Human World
After a late lunch, we set out from Jirisan for Gyeonggi Province. Our destination was the Uchi Taoist Memorial Park in Uisa, Gyeonggi. It was a provincial park built to honor the achievements of the Taoist master Uchi. Despite the rather gloomy-sounding name, the park was surprisingly famous as a popular date spot for young couples, thanks to its uniquely beautiful landscaping.
The park’s operating hours ran from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. I had been invited for 11 o’clock—specifically between 11:00 and 11:05. Was Hojun not completely shameless after all? Or was there a reason the path to the Taoist Association had to remain hidden from the public? …I figured the latter was far more likely.
It was already eleven, but rather than arriving exactly on time, I chose to fly to Gyeonggi first and kill some time there. At the director’s orders, one of the civil servants from the Yokai Extermination Office drove me all the way to Dongtan Station.
“A-are you really sure this is okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wearing a hat might be better…”
“It’s fine.”
Since my identity had already been completely exposed to the world, there was no point in suffering through a stuffy hat. Besides, I was curious how people would treat me now.
I gave the male civil servant a casual wave, then stepped out of the car.
Sniff.Haa.Sniff sniff sniff.
The familiar scent of the city. It had been a whole week.
The moment I got out, the acrid smell of exhaust and the pungent stench of cigarettes greeted me. The sweet aroma of chocolate bungeoppang was a bonus. True to its nature as a downtown plaza, the square was packed with people—far more than I had expected.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, I drew every eye in the area. The white mourning clothes you’d normally only see in front of Gyeongbokgung Palace. The pointed, fluffy fox ears. And above all else, the seven swaying tails were more than enough to steal the spotlight.
Ever since my identity had been revealed, the number of people cosplaying as a seven-tailed fox had skyrocketed.
“Hey, that person…”
“Isn’t that Miho?”
“It’s gotta be cosplay.”
“But it looks exactly like her…?”
At first, people treated me like some professional cosplayer. But that only lasted a moment. It didn’t take long before they realized who I really was.
The way to tell the real from the fake is uncanniness.
Obviously, the seven tails I possessed weren’t props—they were the real deal. If they hadn’t been moving, I might have been able to pass it off as a “Miho cosplay.” Unfortunately, my tails were swaying so naturally that it was impossible to think they were fake. They even had serious volume. No matter how crowded it was or how far away someone stood, my tails were big enough to be spotted at a glance.
And they were wagging.
My face matched the one from the media coverage of [The Fox Spiritual Beast Miho]. I was even wearing the mourning clothes.
“Holy shit, her tails are actually moving…?”
“You’re telling me that’s cosplay?”
“Wait, I saved a photo of Miho somewhere… Oh my god.”
“It really is her!”
It was inevitable that my identity would be exposed. Well, whatever. It wasn’t like the world would end just because people knew who I was.
Just as I had predicted, not a single person approached me asking for photos or autographs. I was a yokai, not human. And I don’t mean that in terms of identity—I mean literally. No matter how favorably people viewed me, approaching a creature that looked completely different from them—a yokai—wasn’t something one could do lightly.
Of course, the proper term would be “fox spiritual beast,” not “fox yokai.” But really, what’s the difference?
In reality, while people stared at me openly, none of them dared come closer. Judging by their trembling pupils, it seemed they were afraid of me.
…That stung a little.
I like talking to people. After spending two whole years shut away in the Hidden World, there was no way I’d dislike it. Deep down, I’d even hoped at least one person would come up and say hello.
But nobody even tried to speak to me. Screw it. Time to go eat.
I was stroking the card the director had given me, wondering what to eat, when—
“Waaaaaaaah!”
I witnessed a child crying loudly. It looked like he had lost his mother. Don’t kids these days all carry cell phones? He could probably call her himself. Or maybe someone else would help him.
“Waaaaaaaah, Mommyyyyy!”
“…”
“Hwaaaaaaaaah…”
Ah, damn it. Why isn’t anyone helping?
There’s magic in a child’s cry. Before I knew it, I found myself walking over to the sobbing little boy.
“Hey, kiddo.”
“Waaaaaaaah!”
“Little guy?”
“Hwaaaaaaaaah!”
I couldn’t be certain, but I was pretty sure no child in the world hated soft tails.
I turned around and gently waved my tails toward the crying boy. And just like that—
Snip.
The kid stopped crying as if someone had flipped a switch.
…Hmm. Sticking my butt out toward a child like this might cause some misunderstandings among the onlookers, but hey, it worked. The proof was in the stopped tears.
Sure enough, the boy now stared at my tails with eyes full of curiosity, as if he had never been crying at all.
“Whoa, the tails are so cool!”
“Right? You can touch them if you want.”
“R-really?”
“Yep.”
The boy soon began playing with my tails. He yanked them so hard I almost screamed. It was pure, innocent curiosity with no malice behind it.
…I get that they’re fascinating, but please be gentle. They’re a rather sensitive area, you know.
So. Should I call the police? I don’t even have a phone.
In the end, I firmly took the child’s tiny hand and headed for the station’s management center.
👦 Child’s Name: Ji-eun
🦊 Finder: Miho (Seven-tailed Fox Spiritual Beast)
📍 Location: Plaza in front of Dongtan Station
⏰ Time: Approx. 10:50 a.m.
“It’s a lost child.”
“…”
Lee Mi-young, 27, an employee at the Dongtan Station management center, couldn’t believe her eyes.
A beautiful face. Fluffy fox ears. A figure that was generously proportioned in all the right places—and then some. And on top of that, seven pure-white fox tails.
There was no doubt about it. This was the current talk of the town—no, the talk of the entire country. The spiritual beast known as Miho.
When Mi-young didn’t respond, Miho spoke again.
“I said it’s a lost child?”
Only then did Mi-young notice the small child tightly holding Miho’s hand.
“Ah, y-yes! I’m sorry. May I have the name of the temporary guardian?”
“Miho.”
“You… don’t have a last name…?”
“Nope.”
“Identification…”
“Don’t have any.”
“Phone number…”
“None.”
“…Understood.”
Taking a report from someone with no ID, no phone number, and no surname was a situation not covered in any manual. Still, Mi-young calmly proceeded with the paperwork.
“What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Ji-eun!”
“Do you remember your mom’s phone number?”
“Yes!”
What a brave kid. Maybe it was because of the pretty lady next to him.
Mi-young called the parents. The mother and father, clearly panicked, kept thanking her profusely and said they would rush over immediately. The call ended after they said, “We’d like to give a reward to the person who helped our Ji-eun.”
Mi-young wondered what circumstances had led the fox spiritual beast Miho to be the one escorting a lost child. Although she was inwardly afraid of the non-human Miho, she eventually gathered her courage and asked what had happened.
“She was just crying, so I helped.”
“That’s… all?”
“Yeah. Anyway, I should get going. Your parents might get scared if they see me.”
“Um… w-wait a moment!”
Mi-young stopped her. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because she felt sorry for Miho, who was deliberately trying to leave before the parents arrived so as not to frighten them.
“M-my boss said the parents want to thank you and give you a reward.”
“I don’t know… When they see my tails, they’ll probably scream that I’m trying to eat their daughter.”
“N-no, that won’t happen! Please just wait a little longer.”
“…”
Surprisingly, Miho waited quietly without complaint. That was probably because the child was happily playing with her tails, tugging and stroking them in every direction.
Watching Miho take care of a child who had lost her mother, Mi-young thought to herself:
This spiritual beast called Miho… she’s basically just a person, isn’t she?
Aside from the ears and tails, her speech and behavior weren’t much different from a human’s. In some ways, she even seemed more human than most humans.
“Thank you, thank you so much, Lady Miho! You really are as kind as the rumors say!”
“Yeah, well…”
Surprisingly, the mother was startled for a moment upon seeing me, but she didn’t try to chase me away. She simply expressed her gratitude like any normal person would. And just as normally, she gave me some food as a gift.
I had been planning to go eat dinner, but I guess this would do for now.
I returned to a bench in the plaza and slowly nibbled on the snacks the mother had given me. As I ate, I fell into thought.
I had always believed I could never truly blend into human society. With these cumbersome fox tails and ears, how could I possibly fit in?
Even now, people were secretly snapping photos of me eating, clearly fascinated. But not a single person came up to talk to me.
Still… maybe I had been wrong.
Seeing how the mother had thanked me without any prejudice, a small hope began to bloom.
Maybe I really could live among humans after all.
It might be a foolish hope. But once I’ve taken down all the yokai who received the qualification for ascension, and dealt with all the dokkaebi… maybe then, people would start approaching me first.