exotique. // Snake x m!Kitsune!Reader

II. The Beauty and the Beast

"Oh? Where's Mr. Fox?" Mey-Rin as she pushed her round glasses up the bridge of her nose, trying to scope out the beautiful gentleman as all the servants lined up for today's debriefing. "He's usually never this late! No, no, he's never late!"

"She has a point there," Bard commented as he glanced at the wall clock. "He's always tired in the mornings, but he's never late. It's not in his nature to be late."

"Snake, did you see him this morning when you left your room?" Finnian inquired of the newly hired footman.

The silver haired young man nodded his head shyly in response and answered, "'He was still sleeping. I thought he would wake up later.' Says Wilde."

In return Finny only hummed thoughtfully as he tried considering what could have possibly happened to the older man. Stranger still was the fact that Sebastian, who normally saw to waking up their resident fox himself, was standing in front of the five of them without any signs of irritation towards the beautiful creature.

Taking this opportunity to answer to everyone's confusion, Sebastian announced shortly, "That little fox seems to have exhausted himself last night though, admittedly, it may have been my fault for pushing him to his limits."

Mey-Rin's cheeks flushed red at the subtle implications of Sebastian's statement while, in contrast, Bard could only pale at the mere thought that crossed his mind. Finny stared blankly at Sebastian in absolute confusion, and Snake wasn't quite sure of what to think. Judging by the pink coating his pale cheeks, he certainly had an idea of what Mey-Rin and Bard were thinking during this awkward silence, but he doubted that his mentor and roommate would behave as such—especially regarding the butler of the estate. Yesterday, all "Fox" had expressed towards the butler was the slightest of disdain and resentment because of the snide attitude Sebastian often used with him. Not only that, but Snake was positive that the older man had been in their room all night long, and Sebastian was nowhere to be seen.

Well, they did say that hate was a form of love, but surely that wasn't the case.

"What on earth are you trying to tell them this early in the morning?"

Red eyes gleamed with the brightest of mischief as the raven haired demon remarked, "Well, if I understood correctly, you were the one who wanted to keep our nightly activities a secret."

A scowl carved itself deeply onto my lips at the thought of even being together with the taller man, marring my visage and contorting my facial features, as I retorted, "I was not the only one if I recall correctly. At any rate, please refrain from giving our colleagues the wrong idea, Michaelis."

"Then... you and Sebastian aren't...?" Bard faltered, uncertain if he wanted to finish that sentence and uncomfortable with the mere thought.

"We are most certainly not; Snake can testify for me." I confirmed brusquely as I moved to line up with the others from the threshold. I glanced over at the fidgeting white haired young man and mentioned, "You make for a horrible roommate so far—not bothering to wake me up when you're already getting ready and all and not even bothering to defend me when Michaelis is feeding everyone his lies. I did tell you lot that I tend to sleep more than the average human, did I not?" Rather, I required more sleep than the average human. Whereas humans slept for maybe seven or eight hours, foxes slept for approximately nine or ten hours a day, and demons, well, they hardly slept at all.

As I sauntered past the demon, I could feel his smirk against my skin even though he was nowhere near me and yet—at the same time—much too close. "What a shame," I heard him whisper. It wasn't the first time he had taunted me so either. A feminine face, a flexible body with slender limbs, a flawless complexion of milky white, and a promise of eternal loyalty were all that I could offer anyone, and Michaelis knew that was all I had. I was no better than an incubus—or so he had told me time and time again—until I was tied down by marriage. Taking my position next to Snake, I noticed that the younger man had tensed slightly at my sudden presence, but I didn't pay much mind to it similar to how I could easily disregard what Michaelis had to say this morning.

"You're running errands right after the Young Master's breakfast," Michaelis informed me shortly after the other four original servants left the vicinity, leaving only Snake, myself, and the crow, as he handed me a small piece of paper filled with grocery items and small menial tasks. "Snake will come with you. Some of those are things a footman must learn how to do."

"Like carrying heavy bags?" I mused dryly as I shoved the slip of paper into one of the pockets of my trousers after committing the contents of the list to my memory. "I am assuming that you would take Snake off my hands for a while to show him how to serve the Earl Phantomhive while I attend to my own duties this morning."

"Of course," Michaelis replied pleasantly although that very pleasantry didn't quite reach his eyes. "I will show him how to serve tea while you prepare the Young Master's clothing. Once breakfast is over, he will follow after you again." With that, he left the hall before me and gestured for Snake to follow him. Those golden eyes locked together with mine, but I quickly turned away in order to fetch the Earl's attire for today.

After neatly pressing and folding his little suit, I left it atop his wardrobe for Sebastian to handle later. Then I marched to the stables to prepare a horse and a wooden trolley with Finnian's help for our trip to London. It would probably be treacherous trying to get to town by feet considering how far we were from the city centre, and it was a miracle itself by how far Snake had gotten by himself to the estate considering that he was still human—even if only partially. Then again, he had rested in the one of the greenhouses before striking at night.

Nevertheless, he was a curious one with his slitted eyes, his scales, and his forked tongue. Had I not known anything about the boy, I would have thought him a hebi*, but that was certainly not the case. There wasn't much spiritual energy exuding from the young man—not much different than a normal human's or even a snake's. He didn't even possess enough spiritual energy to allow him to see apparitions or anything of the sort. Well, I suppose it wasn't really my place to meddle in his past or being even if he was a curious one.

"Are you going into town for the Young Master, Mr. Fox?" Finnian asked me as he saddled a dapple grey gelding the blond had introduced as Digby so that the large creature could later pull the wooden trolley out of the estate grounds and towards the city.

"I am," I replied shortly to the blond as I stroked the horse gently to keep him calm and tamed. "Do you need anything, Finnian?"

"No, no!" he answered hastily with a flush of embarrassment in his cheeks since he had been caught. He was an open book, after all.

"If you want to come—"

"It's fine, really!" Finnian insisted. "I still need to weed the garden!"

I didn't question him any further since the blond was quite dedicated to his work. No doubt he would be assuaged with just the presence of flowers. Smiling, I told him, "I'll bring back some seeds, and we'll plant them somewhere—just the two of us. It'll be our secret. When they bloom, we can use the flowers for the Earl's tea."

He beamed at the opportunity and nodded. "But is it okay?"

"Well, what Michaelis doesn't know won't hurt him," I replied shortly. Finnian handed me the reins to the young gelding, and I pulled him aside, holding the leather reins in my hands tightly to keep him situated in one place, while Finnian fixed the trolley to the saddles and so forth.

By the time he was finished, Snake had appeared in the front of the stables, and I hardly had time to catch the dilating pupils of the horse's panicked eyes since the grey gelding suddenly reared on his hind legs without much regard for his handlers as though he had encountered some horrible creature. Finnian tumbled backwards, nearly falling onto his rear, at the jolt—practically startled out of his boots—but he quickly regained his bearings. The motion jerked me forward, and Digby nearly brought his front hooves upon my head, about to crush his feet through my skull, had I not dodged quickly enough. Unfortunately, that move cost me my tight hold on the reins. The leather bounds slipped past my fingers, and the horse was just about to bolt out of the stables and trample over the unsuspecting white haired young man, who was simply frozen with shock at the horse's sudden wild behaviour, until Finnian leapt onto its back recklessly, trying to assuage it from behind by his warm touch.

As the blond attempted to soothe the raging equine, I cast a short glimpse at Snake before reaching out for the swaying reins. When I noticed the hissing snake hanging around his shoulders and a smaller one tucked behind his ear, everything made sense to me. I scowled and snapped at him, "Hide the damn snake already!"

Breaking out of his petrification at my abrupt outburst, Snake somehow got his friends to slither down his arms and into the sleeves of his coat, but when the gelding didn't seem to settle down with just that, I barked at the white haired young man, "Get out of here! He knows that your friends are still there!" Hurt seemed to cross the younger man's face as he came to realise what had happened, yet he still listened to me and slipped out of the stables. "Hide around the corner, and get on the back of the wagon once I get it a fair distance outside!" I told him just before he disappeared.

I snatched the reins that were flying in mid-air and pulled the horse back down to his four feet before it sent Finnian flying off his back. Immediately reaching out for Digby, I stroked his muzzle gently and whispered in his ear that everything was all right, that everything would be all right, that I wasn't going to hurt him, that Finnian wasn't going to hurt him, and that Snake and his friends definitely wouldn't hurt him. While the gardener slipped off the equine, I set my forehead against the gelding's and looked into his eyes, trying to gauge how uneasy he was. After waiting for his heavy breathing to slow and calm, I led him outside the stable by taking slow and steady steps backwards, keeping my eyes on the horse, and then glanced at Snake hiding around the corner nervously. Again, his cow-lick seemed to be trembling, shaking with his nerves and all. I nodded for him to get on, and Snake hesitantly approached the back of the trolley before cautiously climbing onto the wooden structure.

Sensing the disturbance in weight distribution, Digby was inclined to glance behind him to identify the additional weight, but I pulled him gently by the reins and kept him focused on me. "You trust me, right?" I asked the gelding. "I won't let anything hurt you." At this, Snake seemed to flinch, and when I glanced at him, he averted his eyes from me in shame. Slowly, I approached the driver's seat on the headboard while checking all of the harnesses, buckles, and straps, and then stepped onto it in the centre, adjusting my grip on the reins as well as the swords at my waist, before sitting down and drawing up the reins towards his mouth. Once my preparations were complete, I snapped them gently so that I could lead Digby forward in the direction of town in a nice, even gallop.

Snake was quiet during the beginning milestones of our journey. Even his snakes weren't hissing. Sighing, I apologised shortly for my loud outburst earlier within the stables. When he didn't reply to me, still keeping his silence, I added, "I was awfully brash. I should have considered your feelings at the time. Believe me, it wasn't you that scared him; it was your snakes."

"'You don't have to try and make me feel better,'" Snake mumbled under his breath. "Says Donne."

For a moment, I couldn't fathom why the white haired young man wouldn't believe me, but then I considered all of his reactions to my previous outbursts. He most likely had an insecurity regarding his snakes, his appearance, and his own skill and talent, but I still trampled on those insecurities and probably produced some sort of inferiority complex within the younger man. Shame didn't quite fill my endless thoughts, however; shame hardly even crossed my mind. I saw no reason for him to be ashamed of himself, of whom he is. Since I wanted to hear this for myself, confirm my suspicions for myself, I asked him tersely, "Why don't you believe me?"

Snake was quiet once again though the two snakes accompanying him on this outing seemed to be hissing as though chattering. "'I'm sorry,'" he apologised shortly. "Says Donne."

"I didn't ask for your apology; rather, I don't even want one," I retorted brusquely, sighing in slight exasperation. "Granted, your snakes seem to be an extension of you, but it really is not your fault. You have to remember that this horse may have been raised in an area with dangerous snakes loitering around and have been conditioned through exposure that snakes are a threat. They're terribly protective of their legs and hooves since that's all they have—especially with their impressive height. If they're bitten, then they die or are handicapped, and that's the end of it for them. That's what they've learnt from a young age. Do you understand?"

"'Yes...'" Snake responded shortly. "Says Keats."

"Again, I apologise for behaving so harshly earlier. We couldn't let that horse rampage at all cost since you especially would be in danger considering how close you were. A horse is definitely stronger than a human in terms of brute strength," I mentioned offhandedly. I assumed that I had caught him by surprise when I heard his breath hitch in his throat, escaping as a quiet gasp. "I know you wouldn't do anything wrong. Your snakes wouldn't bite this gelding; you won't let them bite. I trust you on that note. You aren't a bad person. I assume that's why the Earl took you into his manor. He trusts you to protect the manor just like the others."

"'When you say, 'the others,' are you included?'" Snake asked me. "Says Keats."

"I've taken a liking to the Phantomhive household, yes," I replied with a faint smile on my pink lips, "so it's my personal duty to protect it. However, as Earl Phantom's valet, a gentleman's personal gentleman, so to speak, I am to take orders from only him and not the household—though, rather, he is the entire household until he is to wed the Young Lady Elizabeth. It's unlike what Michaelis does in that he ought to cater to Miss Elizabeth once she marries into the Phantomhive house. I just prepare the Earl's clothing, run his baths, and handle his financial affairs—just to give a few examples. It's difficult to explain, but let me say that I am a little different from the rest in the aspect that I only listen to the Earl rather than any other member of the house or a guest. Michaelis wasn't exaggerating when he called me the Earl's pet fox—though I am still far from domesticated. After all, he is the only one who knows my real name. Names are important."

There was a slight pause, and I just instinctively knew that there was a question resting at the tip of his forked tongue he wanted to ask me. However, he was unsure if he could ask me, if he would be stepping over his boundaries in that way, before he finally caved into his curiosity and inquired, "'Why does only Smile know your name?' Says Donne."

I chuckled lightly and shook my head. "That's a secret I only share with the Earl. Maybe one day you'll learn about it, but I honestly hope that day does not come." I stole a glimpse of Snake over my shoulder, finding the younger man pulling his golden eyes away from me as he was caught in the act of staring and gauging me and my reactions, before turning my eyes back to the road ahead of me. "There are things a human should not know, for then they are no longer any ordinary human. Whatever others may say and whatever you will say—about your scales, about your eyes, about your tongue—you are just as human as the rest of them." He flushed red with embarrassment similar to how a child would burn with a scarlet fever after being caught lying to his mother because in that one statement I had completely summarised the entirety of his insecurities just from a simple surmise.

With the tension between the two of us eased, we continued the journey towards the city in a peaceful silence. When the city was just in sight, I slid over to the left side of headboard and motioned for Snake to step towards the driver's seat and settle himself on the right. Once he did so, I handed him the reins, and he gaped at me in shock. I smiled at him encouragingly and explained, "When a valet is unavailable to steer the carriage, a footman must be prepared to take over should the butler have other tasks he must attend. Can you do it?"

"'I've never done this before,'" Snake admitted shyly as he glanced at the reins and his hands. "Says Keats."

Without further ado, I shoved the reins into his hands, wrapping his fingers around the leather bounds gently. Chuckling softly when I noticed his hands (and his cow-lick) were trembling with his anxiety. "I wouldn't have let you do this if I thought that you couldn't do it in the first place," I told him blatantly. "You're a fast learner, Snake." Once he seemed to relax, I mentioned, "I don't use a whip because I don't like the sound it makes, so you'll have to get used to feeling his muscles through the reins in order to reinforce commands, all right?"

I straightened his back and nudged his feet forward towards the low front board of the trolley, telling him to keep his feet braced there. I adjusted the reins to sit between his fore- and ring-fingers before demonstrating to him how to snap the reins to get Digby to trot forward, how to guide the equine to speed up, slow down, and turn, and how to loosen his grip whenever he wanted the horse to stop. By the time I had finished walking him through the basics, we had arrived on the outskirts of the City of London.

"Well, that wasn't too bad," I chirped. "Slow down in front of the grocer's. I have to place an order there." I watched as Snake loosened his grip on the reins and as Digby accordingly slowed his pace to a stop.

Hopping off the headboard in front of the grocer's, I stepped inside of the rather quaint establishment in order to request all of the vegetables Sebastian had listed on the memo. Helping the employees carry out the bags of vegetables, I couldn't help but overhear (with my keen sense of hearing, after all) a few bystanders whispering about both myself and my protégé.

"Oh my! Look at him! Isn't he a foreigner?"

"He's quite exotic, isn't he?"

"Exotic and beautiful!"

"Rather feminine, too, but it's rather charming and befitting of his appearance!"

"He moves with such grace... but... his companion..."

"Just looking at him makes me ill! What is that on his skin?"

"They do look like scales! It couldn't possibly be real, could it?"

"He does look strange... I suppose he would be the other definition of exotic!"

"My heavens! He looks just like that snake he's carrying!"

"What person in their right mind would carry about snakes?"

After completing the transaction, I returned back to the headboard and found the younger man entirely downcast. Muttering a complaint in Japanese about women's nosiness, I clapped the white haired boy on the back, making him jump a little, and warned him, "You're slouching. That's bad for your back, especially if you're driving a carriage or a trolley. Mind you that we have goods to transport now, so be careful. I don't have enough money for replacements if they get ruined."

He glanced at me with those golden eyes dimmed and dulled with shame before averting his eyes, unable to make eye contact with me. Sighing, I told him, "You shouldn't mind what people say with their annoying drivel. You make the better man already by bearing that weight. They're just too nosy for their own good."

"'No, they're right. I'm... different,'" Snake replied as his hands clutched the reins tighter, too afraid to release them and too afraid to focus on anything else. "Says Keats."

"Of course, you're different, and so am I," I mentioned pointedly. "I'm a foreigner. They look at me like I'm an exotic animal that's been trapped by a rich man. Well, I suppose that's half true." Laughing light-heartedly in an attempt to lighten his mood, I reminded him, "Need I tell you again that I am a fox just as you are a snake?" Rather, I was more of an animal than this young man considering that I was a shape-shifting monster that had travelled from Japan by a pirate ship.

"'Still, I am a monster,'" Snake protested as though to imply that I didn't understand what he was saying or trying to say, "'and you're beautiful. I'm... different in another sense; I'm a freak. Everyone can see that. People will look at you strangely with you're seen with me. They won't just admire your beauty; they will berate you because I'm in your presence... I'm too close to you.' Says Keats."

"Thanks for the compliment, but I can assure you that I am more of a monster than you are," I argued as I lifted my eyes to the blue sky. A bitter smile graced my lips as I glanced at him and his confused expression. "You are human and a snake, and you are beautiful in your own right. You belong to two worlds. I am the monster here, a fox spirit, who can only belong to an invisible extension of this plane." He didn't seem to understand my words, but I didn't expect him to comprehend in the first place. "Again, you're beautiful, too." He seemed to flush red in embarrassment at this. How cute. "Your eyes, your hair, your skin, your heart and soul—everything—they are all beautiful because they all make up you, and you're a wonderful person. I've heard from the Earl and Michaelis about why you're here, and I've been with you all day yesterday. I can see that you think of the sake of others; that's something I can hardly do. I admire that, really."

"T-Th-Thank... you..." Snake stuttered, and it seemed as though he had forgotten to add on a "Says Keats" or a "Says Donne." Or maybe, I couldn't help but muse to myself, he really was speaking as himself for the first time since his arrival here.

"Let's hurry and finish what we have to do here," I advised promptly. "We still have to return to the manor and tend to the Earl Phantomhive. There's still the butcher, the bakery, and the apothecary. We also have to pick up some feed for the farm animals on the estate. Not to mention, I have to stop by the florist's as well for some seeds."

Reaching for Snake's hands in order to tell him to loosen his grip on the reins, he jumped at my slight touch and flushed heavily with embarrassment when he realised I hadn't even brushed my fingers against his gloved hands. I smiled at him in amusement, only making him quiver with frantic nerves, and watched as he held the reins shakily in his hands. Laughing, I mused, "You can't drive a horse-drawn trolley like that, Snake! Digby would receive mixed signals! Calm down, first of all!" That was easier said than done. I tried holding his hands in mine to keep them still, but that only seemed to unnerve him even more. He couldn't even look me in the eyes any more, and as much as it was amusing, it was even more endearing. It took a while to settle down the fidgeting Snake as he adjusted to the warmth and touch of my hands, but once he managed to get a hold of himself, we delved deeper into the city to continue our list of errands.

---

"You're practically a silver specialist by now," I complimented him as I stripped myself of my stiff uniform. I gladly threw off my tailcoat and waistcoat as well as my button shirt, unaware that Snake, who was already dressed in his pyjamas, was blatantly averting his eyes from my slender body until I glanced at him from over my bare shoulder. I laughed softly to myself at the sight of the reserved young man but said nothing about his behaviour.

Throwing my gloves onto the surface of the nearby desk, I then stepped out of my trousers and then draped my yukata over my shoulders, slipping my arms through the vast sleeves. After casually wrapping the obi around my waist, exposing quite a bit of skin through the open robe, I collapsed onto my bed and turned onto my side so that I was facing Snake. The latter was still sitting upright in the middle of his bed, stroking the smooth scales of his reptilian friends.

"You didn't mess up the table setting, you didn't spill the wine, you didn't knock anything over, and you even managed to do some of the heavy lifting today. I'm thoroughly impressed," I told him frankly with a bright smile stretching across my lips illuminated by only the scarlet flames of the candlelights.

"'T-Thank you for your compliments...'" Snake whispered into the dead of the night. "Says Bronte."

"Get some sleep tonight," I told him shortly. "You had a long day today. Your snakes were okay in this heat, right?"

"'Yes, of course!'" Snake replied. "Says Wordsworth."

"It'll get colder tonight, so they ought to curl up to your body warmth. If it's needed, I'll lend you my foxes since we can't keep the candles lit; it's hazardous." I wanted to suggest having them stay in the greenhouse, where it was warmer, but neither Snake nor the snakes seemed to want to be separated from one another for even a moment. It was understandable seeing that my fox familiars tended to stick to my side once they were out of their bamboo pipes. There was comfort in a master's power and a friend's strength.

"'It's fine. Thank you for your concern,'" Snake assured me. "Says Emily."

Pulling the covers of the blanket over my shoulders, I blew out the candles on my side and bid him goodnight. "Oh, and remember to wake me up in the morning. It'll be better to see your face than Michaelis'."

"'O-Okay!' Says Keats." With that, Snake shuffled around his bed and blew out his candles. I heard the blankets move about as he made himself comfortable, and soon there was nothing but the occasional hiss of his snakes. It was likely that they were having a conversation, not that I was able to make out heads or tails of anything.

Rolling onto my back, I stared up to the ceiling though I was unable to see much of anything due to the darkness that had settled within our chambers. "Do you like it here?" I found myself asking the younger man.

He was quiet, probably wondering about why I was even asking him that or how he was supposed to answer me. "'Yes, I do,'" he finally replied. "Says Webster."

"That's good," I mused to myself. "It won't be long before you won't need my guidance. I... I apologise for my actions yesterday—when I confronted you, I mean, about your intentions here. I was in the wrong. I'm truly sorry for that; I should have known better when you accepted the Earl's offer to work and live here with all of us."

He didn't respond to that, but I knew he was thinking about my words. The hissing of his snakes in the middle of the silent night had betrayed his racing thoughts, but before long I found myself lulled to sleep by the soft hisses. I wonder when I had gotten used to the sound of snakes hissing while I slept. Had it been the me in the past, I definitely would not have been able to relax, but just as I had gotten used to the rocking of the ship at sea and the peacefulness of the manor in England, it would seem that snakes have become a natural part of my routine as well. There was a voice in the back of my head telling me that this would be dangerous should I have to leave and return to Japan, but for now I didn't heed its advice.

After all, I was still in England. I was still here with Earl Phantomhive and his servants. I was still here in this room with Snake and his snakes.

---

Footnotes:
*A hebi is a type of shape-shifting yōkai that are said to have the body of snake and the head of a human. Other times, they may appear as humans albeit with vertically slitted pupils and forked tongues.