Kiki's Burnout Adventures: B1 — 7. Healing (Patreon)

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The common area buzzed with quiet morning conversation—all beastfolk, mostly keeping to themselves. Kiki sat with Nyla at a corner table, picking at grilled fish and rice while Art demolished his portion with the focus of a predator.

Kiki eyed the cat with a small smile as Nyla watched him work with unusual fascination. Is it just me, or are you trying to speed eat to show off for a pretty girl? Why don’t I get that kind of treatment? Is it because I don’t have a cat tail or ears?

Art finished with a satisfied twitch of his whiskers, sitting back to lick his paw and groom his mouth. “It is proper to show appreciation for the food one is offered by devouring every piece. You should be identifying cultural norms instead of making jokes.”

Nice deflection, Master Cat.

“Oh, shush, you… A healthy appetite is attractive.”

She shook her head. Depends on the indulgence. At least in human culture.

“Now, why would I want to understand something like that? Look around. This is where your focus should be.”

Nyla seemed to snap out of her transfixed stare. Kiki couldn’t begin to guess what she was thinking as the woman’s gaze darted to her, then to Art, and back to her food, as she began eating with a rather good appetite.

Kiki chuckled. “You don’t need to rush…but if you’re that hungry.” She held up a hand to the minx beastwoman in her 30s who was serving between tables. “We’ll have five more plates!”

“Right away, My Lady!”

Nyla almost choked, cheeks coloring slightly. “You needn’t spend so much on me… I can’t pay you back if you order this much,” she mumbled, fingers unconsciously falling to her thin stomach and tail curling around the chair leg.

“Nonsense,” Art firmly protested, causing the cat’s ears to tilt up again slightly. “You are currently in our clan party, so is it not right to prepare the group for a productive day?”

Kiki gave him a half-hidden smug smile that had his narrowed eyes darting her way. Amusingly, Nyla seemed to accept his words as if law.

“That…makes sense. But I must return the resources you’ve spent on me somehow…the time, the effort to make me feel welcome.”

“Hmm.” Kiki rested her elbows on the table, bridged her hands, and rested her chin on her fingers. “Let me see. What can you do for me?”

She studied the nervous cat woman; honestly, she wasn’t sure how old the girl was by beastfolk or catfolk standards. Nyla looked to be in her early twenties, but a hard life could put years on your looks.

The girl’s ears folded down again, as if she were being judged on how little she had to offer, likely an automatic reaction. There was a lot to learn, and an idea popped into her head.

“Don’t pick on her, Kiki,” Art defended with a low growl.

I’m not… I’m taking her seriously, just like you said. Note to self, when defensive, you can’t actually read my intentions.

“Kiki…”

Her focus shifted momentarily to the observant patrons of the inn, as few as there were; word was quickly spreading about her presence. Art was an even bigger attraction, being, as they saw it, a full-blown magical creature, so whispers followed them like smoke.

“…They’re not hostile, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Nyla whispered, ears twitching and still not able to look her in the eye as she watched the minx woman collect the dishes. “They’re just curious. Master Art is…well, very unique,” she mumbled, shoulders lowering.

“I’m the problem?!” Art hissed privately to her in disbelief. “How is this possible? What do we fix this, Kiki? Fix it!”

Calm down. It’s fine…

Voice gentle, Kiki hummed again and said, “Don’t worry, I’m getting used to being stared at. It’s fine. Still, I’m so new to this culture… You know what I really need? I need a guide and translator for all the local customs. Do you think you’d be up for that job? I can pay pretty well.”

Nyla’s ears flew up, eyes going wide and tail shooting straight out, almost in comedic fashion. “If you were seen in public with—I would not advise that.”

“You let me worry about…”

She trailed off as the door opened. The room fell deathly silent. Every head turned, and ears lowered. The man who entered was massive—easily six-five, moving with the fluid grace of someone who knew exactly how dangerous they were.

A red and black robe hung loose around him, more modest than ceremonial, but open enough to reveal tattoos snaking up his chest and arms—dragons, flames, geometric patterns that seemed to move in the morning light at his back.

Beside the mask, his gauntlets were the only armor visible—skin-tight, black and red, intricate engravings running along the fingers and wrists. Two katanas hung at his waist, their hilts wrapped in crimson cord and patterned after blood moons.

Red-dyed wooden shoes tapped against the floor with each step, but it was the mask that made Kiki’s stomach drop.

Red. Demonic. Horned. The face of something that belonged in nightmares, not breakfast halls. It covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes visible—glowing purple neon, smoky trails drifting from them like incense.

His thick black hair was tied into a topknot, perfectly neat despite the rest of him radiating barely-controlled violence.

Kiki instinctively reached for her bracelet before leaning closer to her broom, resting against the table. Art, that doesn’t look like the Ronan image I hired.

The man’s gaze swept the room once, dismissed everyone, and locked onto her. He covered the distance in four strides and stopped in front of her table. Art instantly rose on his haunches, a low hiss in his throat as Nyla’s face paled, as petrified as she was when first seeing her in the bath.

One arm resting atop his sword handles, his other gauntleted hand rose, finger traced words in the air—glowing script that hung for a heartbeat before fading:

“Your token?”

Kiki held out a hand to calm Art, being careful with her words as the minx woman stood petrified several feet away, plates trembling in her hands.

“You don’t look like the Ronan I hired.”

His fingers moved without hesitation, smooth and flowing like water.

“Unable to update picture.”

Kiki blinked. “Wait, what? Why not? Is there some kind of rule or—”

“Don’t know how.”

“Wha—you’re joking.” Kiki stared at the glowing script as they began to fade, those violet, misty eyes fixated on her as he stood perfectly still. She stared at the floating words, then at him, then at the two katanas strapped to his waist. “Your armor… Where’s your armor?”

The purple eyes flickered, and that got his loose hand atop his sword to curl slightly.

“Cannot use.”

The words hung there, heavy with implication and questions Kiki wanted answered. Silence stretched—the entire room was holding its breath—and finally, more script appeared as he held out his armored hand for the token:

“Accept or decline?”

Behind her, Nyla’s voice was barely a whisper, trembling: “That’s not a typical samurai mask of the clan. That’s a unique make… Kiki, I think—” Her voice dropped even lower. “I think he’s the one they call the Red Demon. One of the Twelve Moons. He’s a fallen hero of the Aketsuki Great Clan.”

That escalates things. Kiki’s pulse hammered. I kind of feel like we got some false advertising going on here…but he accepted all my conditions. 

“Well,” Art said casually, as if he hadn’t been hissing a moment earlier, returning to licking fish from his whiskers, “he certainly makes an impression. Though I question the interior design choices with the mask. A bit gaudy, don’t you think?”

Kiki looked back at the towering figure. The mask stared down at her, expressionless, waiting. He was probably the only one who would accept her ridiculous demands, and she was advised that she needed protection. Still, she needed some kind of test to break the ice.

“Uh… First, I met this cat girl—Nyla,” Kiki said quickly, rising and gripping her broom like a purse—it wasn’t like standing really changed anything; he was still a giant. “You wouldn’t have a problem with her showing me around the city, would you? I know I put in the contract for a guide, but—”

She tensed as his open hand turned, pointer finger flowing into script before she finished, and it ended in the open palm again, right under it:

“I am your shadow.”

Kiki’s brain blanked for half a second. Shadow? My shadow? So…he’ll follow, and do what I, as the body, directs… Wow. Symbolic guy, huh?  I guess that’s cool.

Puffing up her chest and releasing the tension building in her lungs, she showed her best, non-stressful smile. “Okay then, Mr. Shadow. If you’re here to accept all of my conditions and do exactly what I say… Then I accept.”

Nyla made a whimper as she pulled out the token and placed it in his open palm.

The surge was immediate.

Blue-white mana exploded from the token, visible, roaring outward in a torrent that made everyone in the room gasp and stumble back, including Kiki. It poured into the ronin’s gauntlet like water finding a drain, spiraling, condensing, flooding the magical item with the vast majority of the mana she’d offered as the price—the company’s cut likely already taken.

The gauntlet shifted—black bleeding to red, red darkening to black, the colors inverting as violet traces ran along it like veins, flaring to life along the surface. The transformation spread, the second gauntlet igniting, then the mask, its crimson surface darkening to obsidian before flaring back to red in new patterns.

Kiki caught herself with her broom before her knees buckled, Art jumping to her shoulder instantly, claws digging into her kimono, but careful not to break her skin.

The token crumbled to dust in the Ronin’s palm when she thought he was supposed to return it, and the mana flow stopped.

For a moment, there was utter silence, and even her new shadow’s head tilted to the side, as if confused. Then, his finger flowed in a loop of words that almost sounded comical:

“That was unexpected. It is done.”

With that, the Ronin stepped back, partially-open kimono flowing with the movement as if out of a movie as he dropped into a formal bow—one fist pressed to his chest, the other hand flat against his thigh, head bowed low.

Seconds passed in utter stillness, and when he straightened, the contract was sealed. As for the mana…yeah, she could sense it flowing through his gauntlets and mask like a live wire. Apparently, he accepted jobs to keep his armor functional because it was practically dead before. Not now.

Nyla was pressed into her chair, half under the table, tail puffed, ears flat. “That was…I’ve never seen raw mana like that before… How much did you pay him?”

Kiki’s hands shook. “Holy—that was—”

“Dramatic?” Art vocally offered with a huff, as if he wasn’t terrified, jumping back to the table to stand in front of Nyla. “Yes. Also concerning. You just dumped enough mana to power a small village into his gear. I’m beginning to wonder if transactions like this are the only way he can legally charge his magic items.”

Her new shadow didn’t respond to Art, but his head did momentarily shift to the cat, his gaze lingering for almost three seconds before returning to Kiki. His next glowing words were the first question he’d asked:

“What are your orders?”

Kiki forced herself to stand straight, even though her legs felt like jelly. “Just a bit, Nyla. Umm. And your orders are to protect the three of us—Nyla, Artemis, and me. Oh, and yourself! I need you for a month,” she half-mumbled to herself, trying to get lost in the transaction of it all.

She looked at Nyla, still trembling with most of the patrons around the room. “If…you don’t want to show me around anymore, I’d understand. I promise not everything in my life is this intense… Well, mmm.”

She winced, thinking back to the past week. “Maybe I can’t make that promise. But…I’d like it if you’d show me around. Art really likes you, as you might have noticed.”

Art’s glare was burning darts that she ignored as Nyla watched the former samurai wait with a casual grace that was oblivious to the atmosphere he generated. She quickly tore her gaze away.

“I—” Nyla swallowed, glanced at the ronin, then back at Kiki again. Her ears slowly rose. “I…don’t require payment. The meal was payment enough. But yes. Yes, I’ll show you around. Just…maybe we avoid the main districts for now?”

Kiki looked at her, then at Ronan, then back at the shy cat woman. “No, I’m going to pay you, Nyla. I’ve made the contract. You’re under that protection. I just want to have a fun day with you. And you’ll introduce me to your sister tonight? Show me everything you always wanted to do… Is that asking too much?”

Nyla’s ears flattened at the start, but by the end, her gaze was uncertain but not resistant. “You…are very kind. It may cause problems. Not my sister. Just…being seen in a friendly way with a beastkin.”

“That’s not a no,” she grinned. “Let Mr. Shadow here be your guardian angel. You’ll make him sad, and you don’t want to make this scary face sad, right?” She giggled, getting a small smile from her. “I’d stand out more without you, honestly. You should have seen me yesterday!”

“Okay. If you’ll have me.” Her gaze flicked to Art, sounding breathless, as if she’d been invited on a sacred quest. “Also, if my little sister is back from her errands tonight… I’d love to introduce her.”

Kiki twirled her broom around—the Ronin’s neon eyes tracked the movement with interest—and she gestured toward the door. “Let’s go and see all the best places! We’re tourists today.”

As they walked out, Art whispered in her mind: “Despite my approval of how you handled Nyla, you realize you just hired the most conspicuous ‘shadow’ in the entire city, yes? We were told not to draw attention to ourselves.”

Yeah, well. He was the only one who accepted. She countered. It isn’t like I have a line of men lining up to be my knight. And don’t be a hypocrite. Nyla’s freaking out because she thinks we’re ruining our social life by hanging out with her since she’s a ‘filthy beastkin.’ I gotta stand up for my own values while being realistic, don’t I? If we take Nyla, we need to protect her.

“Fair point.”

She turned to Nyla and held up a thumb with a reassuring grin, turning to a song for direction. “What are you living for? Smile a little! Everyone needs a place to call their home. Everybody’s skin is different, not their bones. So, even when you’re lonely, know you’re not alone… You’re one of us. Will you drown in the pain, or go dance in the rain?”

The woman’s tension eased slightly, her disbelief showing a seed of hope. “Different skin…but the same bones? B-But what if something bad happens because you’re seen with me? I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Kiki moved closer, looping an arm around her shoulder and drawing her forward. Her flinch was reactive, but her questioning smile grew as Art transferred to her shoulder.

“Life’s too short to take it as it goes. I don’t know much, Nyla, but I’ve got heart and soul. Before the day is through, I promise you that we’ll laugh about it all. Maybe I’m a little pushy right now. I totally get it. But one thing I’ve learned is that it takes a mighty fall before you learn to walk. You’re one of us.”

Nyla mouthed those words as Art purred on her shoulder. “One of us….”

Outside, the morning sun was bright, the city alive with movement and sound, and Nyla seemed to see it in a whole new light. The Ronin fell into step behind them without comment—not close, but present, a looming red-and-black figure that made people notice and part around them with that mask, practically like water around a stone.

She drew her forward, into her bouncy rhythm. “That’s what friends are for, and if there are problems, that’s what he’s for,” she winked. “So is this your starring role or just a cameo? Let’s have fun.”

She straightened and actually smiled. “Okay.”

Kiki glanced back once, releasing Nyla now that she’d found her stride.

Just his presence marked them. Art wasn’t wrong, and Nyla was very couscous about it, but Kiki wasn’t worried. She’d spent a king’s ransom on this guy—apparently, a legend in the Great Clans. He had to earn his keep and meet her unreasonable demands; that was his problem, not hers.

“I didn’t ask your name.”

The Ronin’s violet eyes shifted from the roofs to her. His hand rose:

“You may call me Kuren.”

“Kuren,” Kiki repeated. The word felt heavy, significant—then again, it could mean dog poop for all she knew. “Nice to meet you, Kuren. I’m Kiki. That’s Art. And this is Nyla.”

Kuren’s only response was a slight tilt of his head, then his gaze returned to the roofs. She noticed his focus drifting between critical areas, yet his posture was as lax as could be. He was her silent, crimson shadow in the bright morning light.

Okay! Kiki thought as they merged into the crowd, Nyla getting into the jam and pointing out landmarks. This is my life now. Portal witch, talking cat, fox goddess watching from the sky, and a seven-foot-tall mute samurai who apparently used to be a hero. Cool.

She caught herself humming again.

Yeah. I’m definitely healing. Either that, or I’m just coping and will totally break down later tonight. Both? Probably both! Wait—we totally forgot about the food…

She laughed inside.

I’m so spacey lately! A total mess. And you know what, Kiki? That’s okay.