Chapter 3: Childhood 3:

And then it was April. The piles of winter snow had melted, the risk of new snows seemed gone, and proper travel opened up again. The open roads meant that a priest experienced in dealing with yokai was on his way. That had been the news Ranmaru’s parents brought when they’d shown up that morning to take the boy back home with them.

Ranmaru was happy to see them again, but the idea of leaving felt at least a little painful to the young boy, because returning home would mean breaking the transformation, and that would mean not being Kikuhiko’s friend and sparring partner any longer. They’d gotten along so well, but, once returned to Ranka, Kikuhiko would no doubt go back to his old teasing. 

On the other hand, it would be nice to be able to be friends with Fuji again. The youngest Hanamoto had been rather distant the whole winter.

Confusion bubbling, young Ranmaru said goodbye to the Hanamoto family, in a way for the last time. 

Returning home was nice, at least. The youth had missed the place. Even the smell was nostalgic.

“You’ve grown a bit, but some of your old clothes should definitely still fit,” Ranmaru’s mother said, once they were firmly indoors. “Why don’t you go get back into some girl’s clothing again, eh, Ranka?”

“R-right, yes,” the youth said, with a quick bow before hurrying off.

The idea of abandoning boyhood so quickly disappointed Ranmaru a little, yet, seeing those old clothes again, the young boy was struck with how nice the patterns were. Getting changed felt like a substantial step to going back to being a girl, and it felt comfortable. Yet being a boy had felt just as comfortable, if in a slightly different way. The transformed youth was a mess of confusion when called back to the main room.

Emerging, Ranmaru found a small plate of mochi set up on the table.

Sitting down to look at it, Ranmaru had only one question. “What’s this mochi for?”

“Well, mochi is made from rice flour, so I figured it would work to change you back, and that you deserved a special treat after everything. If it doesn’t work, I can cook up a little regular rice,” Ranmaru’s mother explained.

Ranmaru nodded, before turning and grabbing one of the treats. Though still uncertain what to want, the transformed youth knew that avoiding rice forever would be hard, so it was easiest to just give up on this alternative life earlier. Dragging it out would only make the inevitable hurt so much more.

A few bites of the soft delicious snack later and the boy felt the same strange surge of heat and cold. This time, however, there were actual changes to be felt. Ranmaru, or... she supposed that she was Ranka again, and she had grown slightly with the transformation.

“That was very interesting to watch. You sparkled for a moment,” her mother said, a hand raised to her mouth. “And it looks like you’re starting to have a growth spurt. How exciting. You’ll be starting to be a young woman soon. You’re going to need more new clothes though...”

Ranka could only offer something between a smile and a grimace. At least, if she’d kept looking the same, she could have pretended to be Ranmaru if she wanted to spar with Kikuhiko again.

“But your hair... sister had said the silver should come out when the spell was broken,” her mother muttered. “Hm... maybe it just has to grow out like it grew in. We’ll have to cover it up until you can cut it out.”

That also disappointed young Ranka. She thought the silver-white hair was unique and quite fun to have. Before she had any more time to dwell on that disappointment, her mother decided it was time for her to get some sewing practice in. Her mother was so certain she’d been allowed to slack on that and other feminine duties while playing the part of a boy.

The sewing, and the impromptu etiquette and grammar tests, to make sure Ranka wasn’t going to have too much lingering tomboyishness from the winter of boyhood, had ended up filling most of the day. Helping with cooking dinner had been a nice break, as Ranka had made sure to sneak in practice when possible at the Hanamoto’s and so received little chastising from her mother for ‘boyish mistakes’. 

 However, when the family sat down to eat their evening meal, Ranka was in for a surprise. After grabbing a bit of rice to eat, she felt that same surge of heat and cold, shrinking slightly and returning to the form of Ranmaru. Both parents dropped their chopsticks (food included) to stare at her... him? 

Eating more rice, in the spirit of curiosity, Ranmaru didn’t turn back to a girl. Had Inari’s wisdom decided that the young Mei was truly a boy at heart and decided to leave him in that form? Ranmaru had no idea, and could only stare at the bowl of rice in confusion. 

At least until his mother grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. “We’re going to see your aunt right now.”

Ranmaru had no choice but to hurry after, his father close behind. 

“I say it’s Inari blessing us. A son to carry on the family is a good thing, and Ranka always got along well with Fuji, so there’s a good bride option ri—” his father said, only to freeze under the glare of Ranmaru’s mother.

The brisk walk to the shrine was less frightening than the walk all those months earlier had been, but Ranmaru felt much more confused instead. Was his dad right? Had Inari deemed him truly a man and given him this form? He still liked his feminine clothing though (some of which he was wearing right now)... As much as he liked spending time with the boys in the village, he’d also liked spending time with the girls before. He’d never felt like an outsider as a girl.

On top of the confusion, he felt rather drained, and wasn’t completely sure why.

Mind still spinning, he followed his mother under the torii and into the shrine. The Mei family washed and quickly paid their respects before knocking out the door of the outbuilding where his aunt lived.

“I’m coming,” her voice called out, followed by a quick patter of feet before the door opened. “How can I... sis? What’s going on?”

“Your friend’s spell. It lifted when we gave Ranka some mochi earlier, but it returned when she started eating dinner just now,” his mother explained.

“It did? How can you tell?” the miko asked.

“She’s started to have a growth spurt as a girl, so she’s taller. Also, she sort of sparkles when she transforms.”

“Huh.”

“Huh? All you have to say is ‘huh’?” his mother hissed. “My daughter might be stuck as a boy forever now!”

“Transformation magic isn’t my specialty. I don’t really know much more than you do... Did you try feeding her rice again?”

“She grabbed a bit more after transforming, and nothing happened,” his father offered.

“Hmm... I can try praying to Inari for some guidance?” his aunt replied. “I’ll send word to my friend Koko as quickly as possible as well... wait here while I pray.”

His mother looked ready to argue, but seemed to fall short of actually finding anything to say and reluctantly headed into the small miko’s dwelling. Ranmaru and his father followed, finding themselves somewhere to sit while they waited. A wait that ended up lasting quite a while. 

Ranmaru hadn’t been sure how long they’d sat there, but he was absolutely starving. Glancing over, the transformed youth saw that his aunt hadn’t quite finished her dinner, there still being some rice and pickled vegetables left. As the minutes ticked by, the idea of grabbing a little bit grew more and more tempting. Stomach gurgles drew a glare from his mother.

“He’s a growing boy. Let him grab a little. I’m sure your sister won’t mind if he grabs a little cold rice,” his father said.

“She’s not supposed to be a ‘growing boy’ and she should have some manners,” his mother shot back.

The parents glared at one another in silence for a few more minutes, until Ranmaru’s stomach gurgled once again.

“Are you really that hungry?” his mother asked, her tone softer this time.

“Y-yeah... I think the magic was really draining?” Ranmaru offered.

“Very well. I suppose I can’t blame you for being hungry as a side effect of the supernatural. Grab a little. Your aunt owes us more than a bowl of rice for this headache.”

Ranmaru lit up, giving his mother a quick bow and ‘thank you’ before hurrying over to the leftovers. He ate a couple of pickles, which tasted delicious to his starving tongue. Then he grabbed a mouthful of rice. As he swallowed, the feeling of the change hit again, and the world seemed to shrink that tiny bit. He vaguely noticed his parents turning his... no, her way? Before the transformed youth could process what happened, the world went dark.

---

Blinking back awake, Ranmaru was staring up at a strange ceiling. Or was she Ranka again? She swore she’d transformed just before passing out, but why would that have happened? She hadn’t transformed after eating more rice at dinner?

“Oh, you’re awake,” a kind and familiar voice said somewhere to her side.

Turning, Ranka was greeted by the sight of a silver Kitsune in miko clothing. For a brief moment she wondered if she was still dreaming. Surely it would take days to get that kitsune back, even if she might have magical travel abilities.

“You were asleep for almost three days,” the kitsune woman explained. “Transforming so many times in one day... that must have been exhausting, so it’s no surprise.”

“Where am I?” Ranka asked, the room was slowly beginning to feel vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

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“The guest house at the shrine. Your parents and aunt worried that your exhaustion might be supernatural and had hoped staying at the shrine would help. I’m not sure it was that important, but not moving you far was probably easiest.”

Ranka nodded, slowly sitting up. “So... do you know what’s happening? Was it mom giving me mochi instead of normal rice that messed everything around?”

The kitsune gave a small laugh. “No, no. Rice is rice, the mochi worked just as well as plain white rice would have. The ‘issue’ was you.”

“Me?”

“You seem to have inherited your grandfather’s spiritual strength. I’d suspected as much, and thought it would help preserve the magic, but... you also seem to have taken to the change well. I can certainly see the balance of your vital energy has escaped the usual human balance.”

Ranka blinked, trying to process that. “I’m not sure if I’m too tired to understand that or... just not good at spiritual stuff yet.”

The kitsune smiled, stepping forward and ruffling Ranka’s hair a little. “Only the strongest humans can see the energies I’m talking about, so your language doesn’t quite have words for it. The simplest way to put it, I think, is that you’re a little like Inari themself. A foot in both the masculine and feminine worlds. As such, your spirit has held on to the transformation magic, refusing to lose the ability to switch back and forth.”

Ranka nodded slowly. That... that sort of made more sense. Still, it didn’t explain everything.

“Why did I only change one time when eating dinner though? I ate more rice after transforming?”

“As strong as your spirit is, it couldn’t possibly initiate another change so quickly. I’m not quite sure how long it would take you to regain that energy, but I suspect the hour or so between when you ate at home and when you ate here is about the minimum time. Hence the fainting.”

“Ah,” Ranka said, not sure what else she could offer. 

The kitsune miko sat quietly with her for a moment. If she was studying her, or just trying to have good bedside manners, Ranka wasn’t sure, but she found the kitsune’s presence reassuring. 

“I, um... you wouldn’t happen to have anything I could eat, would you?” Ranka asked, waking up enough to realise how hungry she was.

“I’ve got some soup. It’s mostly just broth and somen noodles. The noodles are probably rather soggy by now, but I don’t want to hit your stomach with anything heavier.”

The kitsune left for a minute or two, then returned with a bowl of soup and a spoon. It was just as minimal and overcooked as she’d warned (no doubt everyone had wanted there to be something ready for Ranka when she woke up, but no one had known when that would be). Still, it tasted excellent to the starving youth, who struggled not to gobble it down as quickly as possible and risk upsetting her stomach.

After she’d finished, and was able to think things over a bit more, Ranka turned to her caregiver.

“Am I going to turn into a kitsune?”

“Do you want to?” the miko kitsune asked.

Ranka gave that a moment’s thought, before she had to shrug. “I don’t really know.”

“Well, I don’t think it will happen, so don’t worry.”

Ranka nodded again, before another question struck her. “Will you help with the yuki-onna, now that they’re going out to hunt her?”

“My duties cover sending messages for Inari and their followers, along with protecting said followers if they’re attacked. Going on a hunt would be a violation of agreements by yokai and the kami,” the kitsune replied calmly. “It pains me that I cannot help more to deal with evil, but my helping would cause more suffering.”

Ranka frowned. “I don’t think I’d like to be a kitsune then, if it were possible... no offence.”

“None taken.”

---

Knowing that she’d now switch to and from being a boy any time she ate rice, Ranka felt oddly relieved. Both worlds were open. At least until she realised that she couldn’t hide that she was both Ranmaru and Ranka forever. Especially not with that distinctive silver hair that just kept growing in. She’d have to tell her friends sooner, rather than later, but was at a loss as to how.

Her parents were of little help, her father trying to bribe her into living full time as a man with a new bokuto and kenjutsu training. When that began to work, and Ranmaru started to spend more time in his male form, his mother would then bribe him back with the promise of some new clothing, and lessons on makeup that a young girl should have. 

Things calmed down a bit when her father left, taking the lead on the campaign to hunt down the yuki-onna and Ranka only had her mother to please, but the ongoing debate didn’t go away. Especially not when getting ready for a bath a little after her eleventh birth anniversary a couple of weeks later, she noticed her chest was seeming a bit flabby when a girl.

“I’ve got breasts now,” she muttered, staring down at her chest, and rather firmly overstating the level of development.

It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. The idea of growing into a woman still had the same appeal it had had before all this, but the idea of her two forms drifting ever more apart was worrying.

As she cleaned up, she decided that that settled it. There wouldn’t be any hiding for long. She had to fess up. And she’d start with the Hanamoto family.

Her mother proved reluctant, having tried to insist Ranka just keep avoiding rice as much as possible and hope for the best, but the transforming youth had no interest in ignoring the opportunity given.

As such, the pair set out to the Hanamoto home. Arriving at the door, Ranka found herself nervous about knocking, but managed to steal her nerves and gave a quick knock.

“You’re completely certain you want to tell them?” her mother asked. “You managed to hide it all winter while living there.”

“I wasn’t changing then. I want to see my friends too... Hiding indoors almost all the time like this is so lonely,” Ranka said, looking up to her mother with the hope she’d be more supportive.

“I just want what’s best for you.”

The door opened a minute later, revealing Fuji, who had a small onigiri in her hand. The girl gave Ranka a once over, and the confusion was clear in her face.

“R-Ran... no. Ranka? Why’s your hair silver too?”

“That’s what I’m here to explain. I also want to apologise to your family,” Ranka said, bowing deeply.

“Uh... I—I’ll go get everybody then,” Fuji replied, turning to head off, before pausing. “Oh, and, uh, come in. I guess I should have said that first.”

Ranka and her mother slipped in, closing the door behind them. The pair headed to the main room, where Ranka did her best to maintain her calm. It was only a few minutes before the full Hanamoto family was assembled (father, two daughters, and son). 

Taking a deep breath, Ranka decided the best opening was to show everyone. She pulled out the small ball of rice she’d brought with her and, telling everyone to watch her, ate it quickly. When she swallowed the shudder and shimmer of the transformation hit. The changes were still fairly minor, but there was just enough difference in his face now that Fuji and Kikuhiko quickly worked out that they were looking at Ranmaru now. He dove into explaining the reason why he’d changed (leaving out that the miko who helped was the kitsune whose blood was used, as even his mother was unaware of that and it didn’t seem his place to reveal it), why he could still change, and apologising for the deception he’d done all winter. 

The response was... mixed. Kikuhiko and Fuji both went uncharacteristically quiet while their cheeks turned rather red. Saki asked a few questions about what it felt like, concerned it might be painful, but seemed to be taking it surprisingly well. 

“I’m not sure what one could say to such news,” the father of the Hanamoto household finally added, “but I am fascinated to see whichever of the paths you might choose to take.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Ranmaru said, feeling a bit nervous. “I sort of dislike the idea of choosing only one path. I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to explore both worlds, and hope to do so.”

He saw his mother blush a bit at that, but she offered no clear protest.

Hanamoto nodded a few times, visibly mulling it over. “I suppose that could be an interesting choice. It does seem best to accept the blessings of Inari.  Either way, you’re an excellent student of kenjutsu and I would be thrilled to keep training you. Especially while your father is away.”

Kikuhiko lit up at that. “And I’d be happy to keep sparring with you... um... when you’re like this, obviously. I’m not the type to hit a girl.”

Ranmaru felt his heart race a little. Such easy acceptance for his odd choice was more than he’d hoped for.

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