The Yokai’s ascent ends at a sharp cliff. She pulls herself up over the face and finds the air is much clearer here. She can even see the top. “What the …?” There is something already up there. A majestic-looking hawk-eagle with a bald patch perched in a nest, unceremoniously shredding a freakishly large, oblong vegetable with its beak and talons. “Weird,” says the Yokai. “Not the weirdest thing I’ve seen today, but still —”

“Hold it right there, tiny missy!” A muffled voice shouts. “This is my volcano!” With an echoing screech, the hawk-eagle flies down, landing with an impressive thud and a dramatic spread of its wings to block the Yokai’s path. “I don’t allow climbers. If you want to get to the top, too bad. Go find your own volcano, now. Shoo! Shoo!” It flaps at her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your volcano. It’s just that there’s a fiery tsunami down below and a possible boar on the loose. Everybody made a break for it. Maybe you should be, you know, fleeing like the others?”

The hawk-eagle makes a shrugging gesture with its outspread wings. “Well. You know what they say: kuu ka kuwareru ka. Now beat it.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

“It means I want you to leave.”

“No, the other thing you said. Kuu wa … nandakke?”

The hawk-eagle sighs. “Kids today. It means, ‘Eat or be eaten.’ Take my eggplant, for example —”

“‘Eat or be eaten’? By an eggplant? I doubt you have to worry about that.”

The hawk-eagle looks about to offer a surly retort, then points a trembling wing at her. “Behind you!” it squawks, a moment too late. It takes to the air while the Yokai’s hair is pulled so far back behind her she loses her balance and tumbles into her attacker. They roll a painful, pointy journey down the volcano, all the way back to the valley. Gasping, Akki crawls toward the prostrate Yokai.

“Well, fuckin’ well. Looks like someone’s little nightmare snack’s been all digested up — nothin’ for you to chomp on, now. Look at ya, you’re already shrinkin’ down to nothin’. And I thought killin’ ya was gonna be difficult!”

A giant hand shoves the Yokai’s face down into the sand. She lashes out with a high-pitched squeal and twice connects an elbow with Akki’s shoulder. He grunts and reels back, giving her the split second required to gasp for air and cough. He kicks her in the stomach, winding her further. When she rolls onto her back, Akki does not waste time. He tackles her, pinning her still-shrinking arms to the ground.

No! The Yokai squeezes her eyes shut, struggling to think straight. There has to be a way out of this before the flames hit. Think, damn it, think. Her mind begins to steel itself. The flames. The fiery tsunami. What happened to them? It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. The beach, the giant octopus, those other creatures, the hawk-eagle. How could any of it be real?