The day began peacefully. Birds chirped, the sun rose, and Raien woke up with a sense of—dare he say—optimism.
"Today's going to be normal," he told himself while brushing his teeth with a twig. "No fox outbursts. No tanuki riots. No exploding food. Just peace."
"Foolish optimism. You should know better by now," Kyūbakko muttered in his mind.
"Don't jinx it, fuzzball."
As if summoned by his words, Genzo's voice boomed from the courtyard: "RAIEN! REPORT TO THE SQUARE IMMEDIATELY! IT'S A CODE FISH!"
"…What?"
Mission: Festival of the Moon Carp
The village square was a mess of streamers, lanterns, and multicolored koi flags fluttering wildly. It was the annual Festival of the Moon Carp, a time-honored tradition celebrating good luck, fishing, and—most importantly—an excuse for the elders to eat embarrassing amounts of rice dumplings.
Genzo stood in the middle, arms crossed, eyes scanning the chaos like a general surveying a battlefield.
"Ah, good. You're here," he said as Raien arrived.
Raien blinked. "What's a 'code fish'?"
"It means the festival is in total disarray," Genzo said grimly. "We have missing decorations, broken lanterns, and someone fed the ceremonial carp too much pickled daikon. It's bloated. And angry."
"…I have so many questions."
"You'll have answers when the job's done. You're on Team Fix-It with Mei and—"
"Oh no," Raien groaned.
"—Taro."
Team Fix-It: The Disasters Assemble
Mei arrived carrying a giant box of fireworks labeled "Do Not Shake." She shook it anyway.
Taro strolled in fashionably late, chewing on a rice cracker and wearing a headband that said "Festival King."
Raien frowned. "Why are you dressed like that?"
Taro flexed. "Because I was voted last year's Moon Carp Champion."
"No one voted," Mei said. "You just wrestled the fish statue for 30 minutes while it was still tied to the cart."
"A glorious battle," Taro said, nodding solemnly.
Genzo clapped once. "Alright, you three. Task list: fix the lanterns, organize the koi flags, and for the love of the spirits, calm the angry ceremonial carp."
"…We have to wrestle the actual fish?" Raien asked.
Genzo shrugged. "If necessary. Good luck!"
Disaster #1: The Lanterns of Doom
Fixing the lanterns should have been easy. Should have.
"Just tie the strings and hang them on the poles," Mei said, demonstrating.
Raien climbed onto the roof of a small hut, holding a line of paper lanterns. Taro tied the other end to a bamboo pole—and promptly tripped, yanking the whole line like a slingshot.
"Wait—NO!"
The lanterns launched into the sky like fleeing geese. One smacked Raien in the face. Another flew into a chimney, setting off a pouf of smoke and a startled chicken.
"This is why humans shouldn't be trusted with fire," Kyūbakko muttered. "Or string."
Mei caught two lanterns mid-air with wind magic. The third exploded in a puff of glitter and confetti.
"Okay," she said, brushing sparkles from her hair. "So we'll call that one a decorative accident."
Disaster #2: Koi Flag Frenzy
Next up: hanging the koi flags across the main square.
Raien climbed a ladder while Mei and Taro argued over the color order.
"Red goes first," Mei said.
"No, blue!" Taro insisted. "Blue is the color of my soul."
"Your soul is loud and obnoxious," Mei muttered.
Raien, meanwhile, balanced on one foot, trying to tie the final flag to the rope.
A gust of wind blew.
The flag slapped him in the face. He lost balance. The ladder wobbled.
"RAIEN!" Mei shouted.
"I warned you about optimism," Kyūbakko sighed.
Raien flailed and fell—straight into a barrel of festival mochi.
The crowd gasped. A few cheered.
"Ten points for landing!" someone shouted.
Raien sat up, covered in sticky rice. "I hate this festival."
Disaster #3: The Wrath of the Ceremonial Carp
At the center of the festival grounds was a large circular pond where the Sacred Moon Carp floated majestically—or at least it was supposed to.
Currently, the fish looked… bloated. Its belly wobbled as it swam sideways. Its eyes were bulging like it had seen things no fish should ever see.
"It's… possessed," Taro whispered.
"It's overfed," Mei replied, poking it with a bamboo stick.
The carp made a horrible gurgling noise and tried to splash her.
"Alright, we just need to calm it down and move it to the display pool," Raien said, trying to coax the fish with soft whispers.
Then it launched itself out of the water and slapped him with its tail.
Everyone screamed. The carp began rampaging through the shallow pool like a slippery torpedo.
"IT'S GONE BERSERK!"
"Let me eat it," Kyūbakko said. "Just a little nibble. I bet it's full of power."
"NO EATING THE SACRED FISH."
They tried everything—music, bait, calming incense (which made it sneeze), and even singing. Nothing worked.
Finally, Raien did the only thing he could think of: he channeled a tiny bit of fox flame into the water, just enough to create a warm bath-like effect.
The fish stopped moving.
Then it let out a happy bubble.
Raien sighed in relief. "Finally."
Then it pooped in the water.
"Spirits help us," Mei muttered.
Unexpected Heroism
By sunset, the square was miraculously in order. The flags danced on the wind (slightly tangled, but artistic). The lanterns glowed with magical light (one still smelled like chicken). The Sacred Moon Carp rested calmly in its display pond, occasionally burping like a drunk monk.
And Raien? Raien was exhausted, wet, and still slightly sticky with mochi.
But he was… happy.
Because for the first time, the villagers weren't staring at him with fear.
They were laughing.
Waving.
A little girl even ran up and handed him a pink paper fan.
"Thank you for helping the fishy," she said shyly.
He blinked. "I—uh—you're welcome."
"Don't get soft," Kyūbakko grumbled. "They'll ask you to babysit next."
Raien grinned.
"I'll take babysitting over evil fox rampage any day."