The storm didn't let up.
By the time they reached the camp, the ground was thick with mud, and the fire pit they'd built the night before was a shallow pool. Kitsune refused to speak, acting stubborn, as usual.
He moved with the quiet certainty of someone used to weather and war, stripping off his cloak and draping it over a low branch to dry, even though it wouldn't.
Calia shook herself beside the tent's remnants, sending a fine water spray into the air. Lafayette cursed under his breath and went to work, rebuilding the fire with numb fingers.
The flames finally caught. A sputtering, stubborn thing. But it burned.
Kitsune sat back on his heels, arms crossed, steam rising from his soaked sleeves. The ledger sat beside him, Kitsune did not take the chance to open it in front of Lafayette, of all people.
He tucked it beside his sleeping bag.
Lafayette tossed a damp log onto the fire and watched the embers flare.
So," Lafayette said finally, voice low, "how long do you think this is going to take?"
Kitsune didn't look up. "Until it's done."
"That's not an answer," Lafayette said.
"It's the only one that matters."
Lafayette gave a sharp breath, somewhere between frustration and disbelief. He leaned back against a tree trunk and stared through the haze toward the cliffs they'd left behind.
"You even know where he is?"
Kitsune looked at him then. His eyes were hard, unreadable. "No. But I know where he was."
"And that's enough?"
Kitsune shrugged. "It has to be."
Lafayette frowned and rubbed his hands together near the fire. "You're chasing a ghost."
"Maybe," Kitsune said. "But that ghost owes a lot of people."
The silence stretched between them.
The storm eased a little, just enough to hear the soft breathing of the forest again. Calia curled beside Kitsune, her head resting on his knee. He didn't move.
Lafayette exhaled and stared at the fire. "You ever think she jumped to make us stop looking?"
Kitsune didn't answer right away. He reached out and scratched behind Calia's ear, eyes fixed on the fire.
"No," he said at last. "She jumped because of guilt."
Lafayette stared at Kitsune, a blank expression crossed his face. Before he could ask, Kitsune already began explaining.
He whispered the name now, the one he hadn't spoken yet.
"Kadeen."
"That bitch, she deserved to die."
Kitsune didn't look up. "Kadeen told me once. When he was younger. When they let me keep him, before CPC came again. He didn't say it outright, not then. Just… pieces. But I knew."
He exhaled through his nose, eyes distant.
"She used her power. Her station. She used his trust." Kitsune's voice turned bitter. "And then she hid it under paper and position and walked away like nothing happened."
"It's not just about names and debts," Kitsune said. "It's about what people think they got away with."
The silence was heavier now.
Lafayette shifted, his voice low. "You think she killed herself because of that?"
"She didn't kill herself," Kitsune said. "She gave herself to the storm. That's not the same."
Kitsune was close to throwing the ledger into the fire. His hands trembled, the edges of the oilcloth already brushing embers. His voice snapped like dry wood.
"It's not the same," he hissed. "Not when a woman like her walked away from that night, that night after what she did to my son. Touching him like it was some kind of gift. A gift?" He spat. "A gift of what?"
The flames flared, catching the corner of the cloth.
Lafayette moved fast, gripping Kitsune's wrist and yanking it back before the fire could take hold. The ledger thudded onto the dirt between them.
"Hey," Lafayette said, low but firm. "Don't burn what we still need. Don't let her be the last word."
Kitsune's chest heaved. For a second, he didn't speak. Then, through clenched teeth:
"She was his maid."
Lafayette didn't let go, but his grip eased as Kitsune continued.
"She was assigned to him when he was just a kid. Meant to watch over him. Protect him. Instead…"
His voice cracked just once, but he pushed forward.
"She waited until his birthday. Twelve. The day he was supposed to feel safe. Loved. And she " He stopped himself, jaw clenched hard enough to hurt.
"She ruined him. And smiled while doing it."
Lafayette released his wrist at last, the firelight flickering between them, silent.
Calia sensed Kitsune's unease; she curled around his arm, flicking her tail next to his hand to calm him down.
He sank back onto his heels, wiping at his face with one hand, though no tears came. Only heat. Only pressure.
"When I first took him in, he didn't say much. Wouldn't let anyone touch him. Wouldn't eat if the lights were off. The smallest sounds would make him flinch."
Lafayette settled beside him, silent.
"It came out slowly. A few words here and there. I remember one night he'd had a nightmare. He told me it was his birthday, and she'd brought him sweets. Said it was a 'man's day."
Kitsune's jaw flexed, rage simmering again, but his voice stayed level. "And then he said, 'It hurt after, but she told me not to cry.'"
The fire popped, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything.
Kitsune finally looked at Lafayette, eyes darker than before.
"He trusted me with that. And I promised I wouldn't let the world forget what she did. I failed him once when CPC dragged him back into that system. I won't fail him again."
Lafayette gave a quiet nod. "Then we use the ledger."
Kitsune picked it up carefully, brushing soot from the cover like it was something fragile. Or holy.
"Let's wait until tomorrow, the storm is bothering me," Kitsune said
For a long moment, neither man spoke. The silence wasn't empty anymore. It was shared.
Then, Lafayette shifted, casting a look around their tiny makeshift camp. His eyes landed on the two bedrolls sloppily thrown down under the lean-to.
"I swear to the gods," he muttered, "if you try to steal my sleeping bag again tonight,"
Kitsune blinked. "Your sleeping bag? It's mine. You lost yours three towns ago, remember? Had to trade it for boots."
"They were good boots."
"They had holes in them."
"You still wore them."
"I was being kind."
Lafayette rolled his eyes and stood, stretching with a groan. "Kind, is not stealing my sleeping bag."
"I didn't steal it, I rescued it. From you. For your good."
"Gods above. You're impossible."
Calia let out a low, bored sigh and padded over to curl directly across the middle of both sleeping bags, tail thumping lazily.
They both stared.
Kitsune sighed. "Guess we're all sleeping cold tonight, unless you want to..."
Lafayette muttered, "Don't think about it, creep."
The fire hissed as the last of the wet wood burned through, casting long, tired shadows behind them. And somewhere in the middle of all that soaked earth and scorched memory, something like peace settled for now.