“It wasn’t him. It was …” The Yokai is nowhere to be seen. Not a single pair of eyes belong to the Yokai. Where did she go? On the other side of the crowd a dirt path lines the woods and stretches into the distance. He can see her now, at the forest edge, clinging to a tree branch and shaking it for all it is worth. Something drops to the ground, giggling. She bends to retrieve it. Even from here, Zaniel can tell she is eating it.

From the ground up, she swells and grows. With a pleased chuckle she takes another fruit from the trees and brings it to her mouth, and another, and another, growing more and more each time. This is what she has been missing, she thinks to herself. She moans with pleasure, a sound so loud it makes yokai heads turn.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, no, it’s that creature! The one that ate Akki’s house! She’s growing again!”

“What? How?!”

“The jinmenju! Look, she’s eating its fruit!”

“What do we do?!”

“Run, stupid!”

“Yes, run! Before she eats us, too!”

“No, wait!” Zaniel steels himself, then leaps down from the hill. Not the wisest choice: he bumps into a tanuki and finds himself flying over the rooftops of Arashiyama. He rouses himself from that dream and continues his pursuit. He brushes against a tenome’s arm, then dreams he has eyeballs in the palms of his hands. Again, he fights through the illusion to return to this realm, and runs toward the now-giant Yokai, who continues to devour and grow. At her size, it is impossible for Zaniel to keep up with her. She disappears over the side of the mountains, off into the glowing horizon. He squats down, hands braced against his quaking knees, struggling to catch his breath. His eyes shut on their own accord. Without intending to, he wakes up.

“Damn.”

Zaniel lies in his bed, the light of dawn seeping through the curtains that shut off his tiny, cluttered apartment from the rest of the world. He concentrates on the ceiling as his heartbeat decreases and his breathing slows. He lets the last vestiges of the dream wash past his eyes, recalling as much detail as he can. It is a calming technique, an old habit, to contemplate how those images are now just memories, and they can no longer hurt him. However, he realizes, there is little need to calm himself. It is not fear that fills his mind, but ease. Ease, and perhaps a taste of exhilaration, that after all this time, at long last, he may have found the answer to his prayers.

Now, he only has two nights left to find her.

nine

CURIOUS CREATURES

良薬は口に苦し

The best advice is the hardest to take

“Ima okina-EE-to, okurema-SOO, yo!”

“Ack! Son of a …”