Something I made when inspiration bit me for a kitsune!Naruto/kitsune!Kurama ficlet. Kurama is still the Kyuubi here, yeah, but I wrote it with the more traditional 'kyuubi' in mind-this is, a fox who's lived for nine-hundred years and found enlightenment. So, AU.

(I wanted to use a real nursery rhyme with foxes in it, but then this weird song-thing came to me and I said 'eh why not'. I'll preface this by saying, once again, that English isn't my first language OTL.)

Warning: gets a bit NSFW at the end. Nothing too explicit, but yeah. The innuendo came out pretty slap-in-the-face on accident, whoops. (Edit: Fixed up the 'pup' thing OTL)

(Little fox, little fox,)

He'd found the kit when the little thing was barely two winters old. His body had been small, underdeveloped, malnourished, all the signs of a life that wouldn't survive the next winter, that looked like it wouldn't survive a simple breeze. He couldn't but wonder if the child's caretakers had brought him to the forest (abandoned him) to die, or if the little waif had found his way there on his own (such irony could be appreciated).

Yet, he hadn't walked past, ignored what surely would be another of the many little humans that had been forgotten in the Forest, to die twice over.

(one, when their hearts stopped beating;

two, when the forest and time ate what little remained of them, both in body and memory.)

Instead he'd stopped, watched, and felt a little fickle of a brilliant flame inside of his mind come to life.

Curiosity.

(What do your big round eyes see?)

And then awe.

Because for all that the child looked closer to the Shinigami's doorstep than to life, the little thing still managed to be full of it, glowing like a fire, gold and blue.

(Those eyes, eyes that would glow ethereally at night, like the eyes of a servant of Inari.

Kurama wondered if the child could make a forest fire of the bluest of flames.)

And he'd known, and he'd stayed, because brilliant blue and gold was a temptation too good to pass, a gift of the goddess herself too bright to not see.

Kurama could recognize a child of kin, no matter it hid under filthy over-sized rags and a dirty face.

(And the obvious tear-lines that cleaned a path down his cheeks, oh, how he would have liked to tear into the body of whoever was the cause of them and viciously eat their liver.)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

(What are you laughing about?)

He took the child that same night, while he slept uneasily under a three root after crying himself hoarse, wishing for someone to rescue him.

(He rescued him, swiped him away, like the fox that stole the sun and hid it in the most precious of places, only thwarted by a wit bigger than his.

Kurama was wittier than any legend.)

Took the boy to his den, left him sleeping under the warmth of pelts and soft seals heating his body, carefully cleaned his home and himself as he thought of the best way to present himself to the child (savior, kindred spirit, warder, protector, god...?).

Kurama didn't want the little kit scared away, didn't know what kind of stories he would've been told by the humans, wondered if a clever twist of words would impress the little changeling enough to stay.

He felt unsure about how to deal with the boy's obvious future questions.

(He'd never liked children much, but how could he deny such a treat? A little child, more fox than human and yet even now glowing with an aura more befitted of one of Inari's sacred messengers. Already golden, as if prophesying nine-hundred years of prosperity and his ascension to semi-godhood.)

One thing was sure enough, though: the humans had rejected him, thrown him away like a broken piece of their ridiculous weaponry, and finder was keeper.

If they weren't able to discern a soul that shined brighter than any Hoshi-no-Tama, well.

That wasn't Kurama's problem.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

(Little fox, little fox,)

The child had remembered his name. Kurama, for all that he'd frowned at the obvious reference to a certain human food, had felt the need to nod with the child's surname.

Swirl, Windmill, Whirlpool, all acceptable translations for a child whose eyes shone like a clear sky, but hid deep tempests of power and red and chaos.

(It took Kurama a long time to understand the child was more than that. An unstoppable force, pulling and sucking you into the eye of that power, that storm of light, closer and closer until you weren't able to ignore that light ever again, because it blinded and left one in absolute and breathtaking awe.)

That hadn't been the last surprise with the child, but it had been maybe the most unexpected one, for some reason.

Human children tended to not be very aware of themselves until later age, but Naruto Uzumaki quickly showed him he was an exception in many ways.

Some more bothersome than others.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

(Tell me do tell me do tell me)

Naruto didn't ask much about where he was, for one, and accepted Kurama's 'adopting' with a blinding smile and bright eyes.

Even Kurama's slow cajoling to make the child show his Other Form was meet with innocence and trust.

(And Kurama wanted, oh so he wanted, just to visit the boy's village and remind them all why kitsune were feared as man-eaters in half the world.)

A pure child all for himself, and for all that he'd had to do disreputable things like teaching manners or cleaning pelts after nightly 'accidents', he couldn't but thank Inari-sama for her most charitable gift. His kit would grow under his care and become a powerful kitsune under his guide, half-ling or not.

And even if he didn't quite live up to his expectations, Kurama had many counter-plans for the little blond.

The kit would not be wasted.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

(What are you thinking about?)

The years passed before Kurama could properly think of them, and with them his ward grew and matured, like the sun being born at dawn and rising to the sky, growing with every moment until his blazing body left the nurturing earth to take his place among the infinite blue.

At times, Kurama felt like the nurturing earth, watching the sun grow too grand for him to guard, to hide, to protect.

His ward grew, and turned from kit into an adult, not quite man but plenty enough of it to not be completely fox, either.

Even if his mischief and slyness was completely fox-like.

(The fond memories of hours of pranking humans and setting traps were followed by those of seeing his kit pranking them on his own, using every trick that Kurama had taught him to leave the humans in awe, dazed and utterly lost, wondering to themselves if they'd met a god instead of a boy.

Kurama couldn't feel more proud than in those moments.)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

(Are you laughing at me chasing you?)

And yet, for all that Kurama planned, and forethought, and imagined what kind of trials he could be faced with in the future thanks to his little charge, Naruto still managed to surprise him, outwit him and leave him feeling like the fox from the legends.

But now it was a fox tricked by the sun, not a prisoner but a willing participant in the play, an equal.

It made him idly wonder if he'd burn like a moth who's flown too close to the flame, or find that nine tails of experience made for something more than boredom and power.

"Brat," he said, fond and amused, as he watched the blond over him. "What exactly are you doing?"

The boy–young man, by now–smiled, sharp like a fox, eyes twinkling in sly amusement.

"What do you think, Kurama?" asked Naruto back, legs shifting at each of Kurama's sides, before a warm handful of lap sat over his. "I thought I was being pretty clear when I asked you to brush my tails."

(chasing your tail round an' round)

Kurama chuckled, but let the kid continue, keeping the teasing to a minimum. It was something new, and different, and as much as Kurama appreciated their teasing as much as Naruto did (not that he'd ever admit that), he was too curious to see how this would develop to risk distracting the kid with words and nags.

Much better to do with kisses and bites, he'd soon learn.

(And caresses, and hot skin, soft tan expanse under his fingertips and claws, no matter the shape they took, no matter the tails they showed, dancing around each other and with each other with intimate touches, their very own mating dance of chasing each other to orgasm, always after each other's shadow, each other's lingering touch, hungry gaze.)

They turned it into a game, one of give and take, and took joy and pride in it, chasing each other in a spring fever that extended into summer, autumn, winter, too clingy to leave and too much like them to listen to rules and 'how the world works'.

It worked for them well enough, so words and useless thoughts were discarded and forgotten for deep kisses and a scorching warmth penetrating him, filling him to the core till release.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

(Tell me do tell me do tell me)

If there was something Kurama would admit to, it would be the knowledge that Naruto Uzumaki was dangerous. Not because he wore violence as a cloak like some kitsune did, or because his premature tails made him more unstable, but because the blond was a whirlpool, a swirl, an attractive force of nature that, like the currents of a river, slowly pulled you to him, to his light, to his blinding bright sun-smile and bluest of skies.

And for all that Naruto Uzumaki was a half-ling kitsune, he was more god than any Kyuubi would ever become. And Kurama, as the undisputed Kyuubi no Kitsune, strongest of the them all, couldn't be more pleased by his kit's growth.

(What are you thinking about?)

If someone were to ask Kurama, he would've said that he'd always knew he'd only mate with the worthiest one.

And who was more deserving than someone who shined with the light of one of Inari's divine messengers?

Little fox, little fox

Did you see grandpa smiling with sharp teeth?

Did you see me growing a tail?

Little fox, little fox

Tell me do tell me please tell me

Do you think we're alike at all?