“Sorry.” She swallows. “I said, ‘Sounds deep.’”

“Yes, true. They can go deep as the ocean, too. Be careful not to drown in any of yours, child.”

The Yokai wonders if that is possible. The suzumebachi seems to recognize the perplexed look on the Yokai’s face. “I would not think on it too much, young one. Just be yourself. That is all any of us can do. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some mantis to find.”

The hornet alights into the air, straight up, flapping its giant wings so that the cloud of smoke around the Yokai dissipates and makes her cough. By the time it all clears, the Yokai notices the waitresses removing the tables. They fold the second-to-last one up and carry it away, making room for creatures to dance, for the squids have returned for an encore performance. The Yokai, however, is still hungry. All that sake has only made her more desperate for food, something to sober her up and soak up all the alcohol in her stomach.

Everything seems to shimmer with light. Colours swim before the Yokai’s eyes, bounce off yokai bodies, reflecting their scales and shells, dying their fur all the colours of the rainbow as they pump their fists, wriggle their shoulders, and stomp their feet to the music. The Yokai catches a gleam of gold between her fingers and licks it before she can think twice about doing so. She wishes she could have another one of those glowing lights from earlier. She does not see a waitress she can ask. No, it is not a nightmare she wants … she was looking for something before that … no, not something, someone …

“Hey!” A giant tanuki is shouting, pointing. “Who ordered the human?”

On the last remaining table, Zaniel sits upright. His bed is gone, replaced by a cold, silver platter scattered with lettuce and grapes for garnish. He cries out as a futakuchi-onna reaches for a grape with her chopsticks and snags his T-shirt. Scrambling off the platter, he nearly misses a black paw that almost scratches his naked leg. It takes him a moment to recognize where he is, and when he does, his panic doubles.

A waitress comes running up to the Yokai, dodging around the dancing demons. “Sorry, miss, last call for all-you-can-eat just ended, but I believe that one is part of your order just now?” She points at the young man scrambling away from yokai hands and claws.

“I didn’t order anyone,” the Yokai slurs.

“I see. All right, we’ll take him to the kitchen. Sumimasen, ningen-sama!” She wades through the crowd and tries to grab Zaniel’s wrist. He snatches his arm away too late. The waitress reels back in pain, cradling the fingers that she singed on his obsidian bracelet, now glowing with fierce heat. The other yokai back away in fear.