They scatter, galloping on all fours, rolling in the grass or dragging themselves across it, disappearing into the surrounding trees. Some take a moment to stick out their tongues one last time at the Yokai or call her crazy. The Yokai hesitates to follow any of them, which only makes sense as they traverse in different directions — left, right, up into the air, burrowing down into the ground — until she is left alone in the clearing.

Well, at least I won’t be eaten, she thinks to herself along with other consolatory thoughts. The Yokai wanders off in search of other friends and food. Being a giant, she covers ground quickly. The scent of peach mixes with cedar and maple, the silence broken by the sounds of what she hopes are bats in the trees and raccoons in the underbrush. The air reeks of overripe fruit. Her stomach feels funny. She sniffs her hands again: they too smell of rotting peach. Suspicion alleviates. So it isn’t blood. The trees here appear to be full of the large dancing orbs. She grimaces at the sound and sensation of peach pulp squishing under her giant feet. At least, that is what she hopes she is stepping on.

Someone giggles.

The Yokai whirls around. “Who’s there?!” She looks around the trees and down at the ground. No response, except another wave of gentle laughter when the wind blows. Her stomach growls. She is still hungry. She heads deeper into the woods, hugging her stomach as if she can protect it from the chill in the wind.

Something rushes over her naked foot. Startled, she backs into the bush and stumbles against a tree, grabbing a branch that shakes a peach loose. It bounces off the Yokai’s shoulder and tumbles to the ground. Instinctively, the Yokai reaches out to catch it. She misses.

“Whee! Oof!” The peach giggles as it lands.

“What the …?” Wary, the Yokai reaches down to retrieve the peach. She picks it up and turns it over. Rolling her thumb over the surface she feels two soft, fuzzy lips open up at her touch. She drops it with a shudder. “Ew! What the hell?!”

Giggling, the peach rolls around on the ground. Face-down, its words are muffled: “That tickles! Do it again!”

“Ugh!” The Yokai runs away, horrified. What the hell is this place?