Something about the night, the cold of the air, blowing through his fur as he walked down Madison ave; all of it felt too familiar. It was the night Kit had to loose someone so dear to him. Now, the young Kitsune walked that street again.

            It was almost midnight now, and rarely did a car come by on the road, save for the occasional patrol car, the cop driving eyeing Kit up and down as they pass but simply driving on without a second thought. The streetlights cast a dim glow over Kit as he walked, his trench-coat rustling slightly in the dry summer breeze as it had on that fateful night, so many years ago.



            It was four years back, but the scene was still fresh in his mind: sitting back in his room, a bowl of weed in a pipe on his computer desk and a lighter in one paw, smoke clouding the room blurring his vision with soft angelic grey wisps that stretched wall to wall and floor to ceiling; for the sort of loner he was, it was Kit’s version of paradise.

            Suddenly a faint sound echoed in his ears, someone pounding on the door of Kit’s room, the sound of someone pounding at his door, reverberating off of the walls, all around him, only sounded like a whisper in Kit’s intoxicated state.

            Standing he walked to the door, snatching his pipe up and taking a hit as he opened the door with a flailing foot, fighting to keep balanced on the other as he swung his bedroom door open with his toes to look at his friend Chris.

            Chris stared for a moment, his muzzle tilted down, knowing full and well what was going to happen when he opened his mouth, and it did: for the second his maw parted ever to slightly in attempt to speak, kit exhaled a lung-full of thick smoke in his face and chuckled, a wide mischievous grin on his face as he passed the pipe off to his friend.

“Smoke up man,” Kit said, still grinning slightly as he motioned, holding the lighter in front of his wolfish friend’s paws.

            Rolling his eyes, Chris sighed and snatched up the lighter, the fur of his neck raising a bit as he glared at his life long friend.

“You know Kess is going to kill you for smoking again..” He said before taking a long hit, kicking the door shut so what was left of the smoke still lingering in the room would not escape.

“Your point? Kess wont find out about it..” Kit snapped, rolling his eyes and flopping down on his bed again. “Go ahead and kill that bowl by the way.. Ya need to catch up with my high.”

            Laughing as the smoke rolled out of his mouth, Chris shook his head slightly and looked at Kit, arching a brow and speaking in a soft, lifelessly dull voice.

“You’re a freak Kit.. You seriously are.”

To which Kit simply grinned and nodded rapidly as he usually did when he was stoned, the image of an escaped lunatic beginning to fit him nicely.


            The day passed quickly for the two, smoking in the secluded room of the small condominium without a worry or care in the world. Some would think, their troubles were miles away, but for the two, the wolf and kitsune, the pain was about to begin.

            The sun was setting, and silently grinning, Kit motioned towards the door and walked from the condo, snatching up his trench-coat as he passed it and wrapped it around himself, knowing that Chris would be, absently, quick to follow. Something was on Kit’s mind: For a year now, he had called Chris his Brother, and for a lifetime, he had seen Chris as his closest friend. Now, for a month the kitsune had wanted to tell his wolfish friend how he felt: Kit had fallen in love with Chris.

            As they walked, the sun’s light slowly fading away into the distance, and before they knew, night had set in. The full moon was high in the sky by the time they reached Madison Ave, and finally Kit had the nerve to tell his friend how he felt.

            Whipping around, his trench-coat sprawling slightly as he faced Chris now, the dry wind of a summer breeze softly sweeping through his fur s he took hold of his friends paw and leaned forward, kissing him quickly; Chris’s eyes shot wide open with surprise as he drew back and stared at Kit, wether shocked or embarrassed, Kit would never know.

            At that instant, a hummer barreled down the road and a gunshot rang out, confusion filled Kits mind as he looked around suddenly, then down to see Chris on the ground, bathed in blood, a wound in his face. Kneeling he pulled the wolf into his arms and forced a smile, looking down at him as he held back his tears.

“Hey, don’t you die on my Chris..”

“I won’t... ‘m I gonna be ok?”

            Hesitating for a moment at the question, Kit nodded and forced another smile, swallowing hard as he choked out his final lie to the wolf he held so close to his heart:

“Yeah man.. You’re gonna be fine.”

With those words said, Chris gave a single slight nod, and let go his last, soft breath, Motionless now as death set in, laying in Kit’s arms. Finally alone, Kit closed his eyes, grinning his teeth and clutched Chris’s body tighter than ever, tears rolling from his eyes and down his cheeks as he cried in silence.


            Walking along that fated road, alone and forsaken, Kit looked on as the sun began to rise, sighing and taking a black rose from inside his trench-coat, looking down at the sidewalk where a slab was badly cracked and broken.

“No one forgets the ones they loose Chris..” He said softly, shaking his head as a single tear falls to the ground. “You tried to tell me that.. But you ended up showing me instead..”

            Prying up a piece of the sidewalk, Kit set the black rose in a small ditch in the dirt under the concrete, then set the slab back and set his hands in his pockets, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I love you Chris.. And I always will..”