In the end, they didn’t arrive in Kyoto until quite late. The problem was one of transport, travelling by train was out due to Nonemu’s ‘skin condition’, renting a car required a drivers licence and the only one Paul had was in his real name, which would be too easy to track. Buying a car would have been possible… except for the fact this was Japan, and Paul simply didn’t fit into the ones available.

It took most of the morning to find a solution; a motorcycle and side car. Paul found one for sale locally, a Triumph Thunderbird with a Hedingham sidecar, and bought it cash in hand. He haggled a bit, getting the toolkit and a set of panniers thrown into the bargain.

A decent helmet with a darkened visor, and some leathers and gloves, and Nonemu was quite happy to go out in even strong sunlight. Paul got the impression Inari was the reluctant one. After all, her first experience had been riding like a bat out of hell through Tokyo’s busy traffic with Ash. Paul could see how that might put her off a bit…

They spent a bit, tooling slowly around the back roads, on the excuse that Paul need to get used to feel of the bike… but really he was letting Inari relax before they hit the main highways.

As a consequence it was past midnight before they even reached the edges of Kyoto. Paul was considering stopping at a motel, before finding Kiko’s home, but Inari clutched at his arm, and pointed urgently.

The bike and helmets didn’t come with a comms system, and there was nowhere good to pull over, so Paul followed Inari’s lead and took the off-ramp she’d indicated. Inari declined to explain herself, instead wordlessly directing Paul through a maze of suburban streets.

Inari guided them past a train station bearing her name, and down a small side street past houses that were a mix of traditional and modern, until they reached one that had the older style of sliding doors and half-timbered construction with green rushes growing in a narrow drainage channel between it and the road. Inari batted at his shoulder for Paul to stop.

Killing the engine, he took his helmet off and looked at Inari.

“What the hell Inari? Why are we here?”

“This is where Kiko is!”

Paul’s unspoken question, eloquently put by his raised eyebrow, made Inari duck her head.

“I.. I can feel her here.”

“This isn’t the Kobe residence. I checked where that was.”

Nonemu having removed her helmet, since it was night, interjected.

“The hunters would know where she lived too. Maybe this is a friend’s place she’s staying at?”

“Reasonable hypothesis, should we knock? It looks like everyone’s asleep.”

Inari shook her head.

“Kiko is awake, and unhappy… she’s...in a bed room at the back. Wait here!”

“Wait...what? Inari!”

Inari stood on the seat of the bike, and jumped… arcing up to come down onto the roof ridge. Nonemu unfolded herself from the sidecar, and scrambled up the wall of the house like a great black spider.

Paul sat back and sighed.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m only human. Well, I hope at least one of them remembers I’m here before morning.”

A few moments passed in silence… and the night air was spit by a short, sharp, bark. Paul grinned slightly, he’d heard foxes before and despite popular belief, they didn’t go ‘kon kon’. Lights came on in the house, although there wasn’t any more sound until the door opened and Nonemu stepped out ten minutes or so later.

“Kiko was staying with a friend. I think Inari scared them out of about ten years of life… they were sharing a room and she barked at the window. There’s a garage, but you have to go around the corner of the street to get to it from the back. I’ll show you.”

With the bike tucked away out of sight, Paul gratefully stripped off the cycle jacket in the hallway, rotating his shoulders before taking off his boots. The jacket had been the largest he could find at short notice, and it only just barely fit, so after hours riding even with breaks, he was stiff and sore.

A young woman came padding down the stairs and stopped at the right of Paul, her eyes going wide.

“Boo!”

She jumped slightly, fanning herself, then bowed a bit.

“Um.. hello. I’m Masami,.. Masami Kobe. Kiko’s cousin. She said you were a friend of..of.. Inari.”

Paul bowed slightly.

“Paul Holmes, at your service. This is Nonemu… ah… well that was Nonemu, who was right there just now. Sorry, she does that. It’s her training. I’m sure she’s somewhere nearby, keeping an eye open for trouble.”

Paul sighed, shaking his head.

“Sorry to drop in on you unexpectedly. I gather you know something is up, perhaps if you could show me the kitchen, I might make us all tea while you fill me in on what Kiko has said to you.”

Masami looked confused, pushing her short dark brown bangs out of her face as she nodded. Paul guessed she was Kiko’s age or close to it. He frowned as she lead him to the small kitchen. There was something odd about the way she moved, with one hand on the waist height rail on the wall…

He watched her walk into the dark kitchen, then pause before putting the light on. The back door had a row of hooks with umbrellas and rain coats hanging up… and a single lone white cane.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you sight impaired?”

Masami jumped, whirling round, and catching herself against the table as she almost fell over.

“What? No..no..why do you say that…?”

“Just you move like someone used to not being able to see, navigating by touch. Plus, the cane is a bit of a give away.”

Masami sighed.

“I… was...”

“Was? Oh! Kiko, yes?”

“Mhm, I don’t know how, but shortly after she arrived, yesterday I suppose now, she healed me. I lost my sight in a car accident nearly four years ago. Detached retinas with torn optic nerves the doctors told me. Inoperable. No-one but my family knew… Kiko.. She said it was magic. But magic isn’t real, is it?”

Paul guided Masami to a chair, and set about making tea. As he waited for the kettle to boil he leaned back against the counter top and regarded the young woman.

“So… she healed you. Then told you a wild tale about magic and goddesses and hunters, I assume.”

Masami nodded, confusion and bewilderment on her face.

“You didn’t know what to make of it. On the one hand, you could see again. But on the other, nothing she said made sense. No-one believes in that sort of stuff nowadays, do they?”

Masami shook her head. Paul sighed, and poured a mug of Chamomile tea, pressing it into Masami’s hands.

“It’s real. All of it… and more. That Inari, probably having a tearful reunion with Kiko right now.. is the Inari.. Inari Okami. The actual, genuine, one hundred percent original Goddess. In mortal form admittedly, but still. Magic is real, there are yokai in the world and people who hunt them. Although some things are not as they are in the tales. The yokai are, mostly, just trying to live a quiet life, and are not unlike everyone else in that. The hunters are determined to drive them to extinction, and are not far off succeeding. Mostly for ideological reasons, before you ask, and out of tradition.”

Masami stared down into her tea cup, and then got up and crossed over to the fridge. Without saying anything she took out a can of beer and opened it. Paul watched without comment as she sat back down and drained it all down in one long series of swallows.

Once done, Masami leaned forward, resting her head on the table.

“I always thought the isolation and the constant darkness would drive me insane you know...”

“You’re not mad.”

“Well, you would say that, if you were a hallucination. I just hope Kiko isn’t really here, or she must be worried with me stumbling around acting like a crazy person.”

Paul studied her for a moment, then, taking a glass off the draining board by the sink, filled it with water from the filter jug in the fridge. He drank some, then he poured a bit into the palm of his hand, and dribbled it on the back of Masami’s neck as she lay slumped forward at the table.

She squeaked from the cold, and stood up, spluttering, red faced.

“Hey!”

“You’re not mad. That was real, I’m real and so is Inari and Kiko. Magic is actually real, it is however rare enough that for most people it effectively doesn’t exist. Large areas of the country are ‘dead zones’ devoid of any mana, magical energy...and since yokai need that to survive, thus those areas also devoid of them. Most people can go through their entire lives never having encountered any thing out of the ordinary. So, society as a whole has decided magic isn’t real and there are no yokai..”

Paul tossed the somewhat damp Masami a hand towel that was hanging up by the sink.

“That does not mean that it all doesn’t exist, only that yokai and many other things magical are a lot like snow leopards. They’re real, just it’s highly unlikely you’d ever see one..”

“Then how...”

Masami’s gesture encompassed Inari, him and everything else that had exploded into what had probably been a life of quiet despair until now.

Paul smiled.

“That is a very long story. Sit, drink your tea, and I will make up a supper or breakfast tray for Inari and Kiko. I doubt we’ll see them before morning. Then we’ll talk. I might as well spend some time catching you up. Although, first could I trouble you for some pain killers? Only I’m not as young as I used to be, and nearly six hours on a bike is a bit rough on my back.”

Masami nodded…

“One minute, I’ll fetch them. They’re in the bath room.”

Paul held up a forefinger.

“Word of advice. I’m betting everything is labelled in Braille. Close your eyes when you read the label. You’ll find it much easier.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Moments later she reappeared with a white box of prescription strength Ibuprofen. Paul shook three of the lozenge shaped pills out and took them with a glass of milk.

“How did you know that would help?”

“How would what.. oh, yes, that. Oh, just something I was told. I know a few former refugees, some of whom lost their sight one way or another. Usually they have time to adjust to being blind before they get access to decent medical care and are given their sight back. A few have found it difficult to adjust, as they’d learnt to read English in Braille. I figured, since it’s only been a day and you’ve obviously yet to adjust, it would help you too.”

“Oh… Kiko said you were smart.”

“Oh no, not that smart, just a lot of experience and a mind that holds onto all sort of odds and ends of information, that’s all. Nothing special.”

“Oh… I think she might disagree with you there.”

Paul pulled a face.

“Maybe, but really, I’m faking it most of the time. Anyway, you sit and I’ll put together a tray of food for Inari and Kiko. Sad to say, if you two were sharing a bed room, I think you’re probably going to be out of luck regarding sleep for tonight.”

“Oh no, no.. just.. she was so unhappy I was hugging her.. in her bed. I have my own bed room… and oh dear where am I going to put you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I can sleep on bare rock if I have to. Although I won’t be happy in the morning I assure you. So a couch would be a luxury in comparison.”

“Oh, yes.. if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Paul opened the fridge and studied the contents.

“Hmm, no idea when those two are going to resurface, so best stick to stuff that won’t go off and can be eaten cold… anything in here I shouldn’t touch? Like you’re saving it for later..”

“No, no… help yourself. Why are you doing this? You’re a guest...”

“Because you’re obviously somewhat in shock. I wouldn’t even trust you with a can opener right at this moment, you’d probably cut yourself or something the way you’re shaking.”

Masami looked down at her hands, and laughed tremulously.

“You have a point...”

Once Paul had taken up a tray of sandwiches, leaving them under a cover, on the table by Kiko’s bedroom door, he came back down and found Masami sitting, staring blankly out the window into the darkness. He wondered if having been completely blind until just recently, she found the darkness familiar enough to be comforting, at least subconsciously, in a world that had been turned upside down for her.

“Would you like some supper… or early breakfast depending on how you look at it? I was thinking of doing something for myself, and it’s the least I can do to repay you for your hospitality. Any preferences?”

“Umm.. something simple. Thank you.”

Paul nodded, and leaving Masami to her own thoughts, set about cooking. A short while later he put a plate of ‘Omurice’ or omelette folded over rice, with a smily face drawn on it in ketchup.

Apparently, this dish was a staple breakfast food for the Japanese, and held the place of ‘comfort food’ for many. Judging by the startled but delighted expression on Masami’s face, his guess had been right on the nose.

“How.. did you...”

“Not a hard guess.”

Masami stared down at her plate… and silent tears started to roll down her cheeks. Somewhat alarmed Paul got up from where he’d been about to start in on his breakfast, and put an arm around Masami, who buried her face in his shirt.

“Hey, hey.. what’s all this now...”

“I.. I.. thought.. I’d never see another funny face drawn in ketchup again! M.. mother used to do them for breakfast at the weekends when I was in school… and.. and the thought I’d never see one again was just so, so sad, but I couldn’t let myself cry… and now...”

“Ah.. I see. It’s ok dear girl, let it out. You’ve been brave for so long, but you can let go now. It’s over, your long night is done. You can cry all you want now.”

Masami bawled, as Paul held her, patting her back.

The sky outside was beginning to grow light by the time Masami’s emotional storm passed. Paul reheated breakfast in her small microwave and they sat, eating in silence. Once they’d finished, Paul collected the dishes, putting them in the sink, and eyed Masami.

“You still want that story? Or should I wait until later?”

Masami yawned.

“Sorry, later please. I think I’ve had enough shocks for one night…”

“Ok, it can wait. Although if I may, one question. Kiko was travelling with a companion, Ash. Do you know where she is?”

Masami shook her head.

“No… she arrived with Kiko yesterday morning. But she wouldn’t stay. She said something about teaching the hunters some respect or her ancestors would never forgive her, and about making an offering to her gods. But that’s all.”

Paul shook his head. Amused despite himself, and dismayed at the same time.

“Oh dear, oh dear… Ash is Irish, one of the Fae, and a follower of the Old Religion. I rather think what she has in mind as a suitable offering probably involves blood and body parts maybe…”

Masami paled, swallowing.

“I.. I really..don’t.. think I can deal with all this.”

“I know, and I don’t blame you. We’ve basically dragged you into a war, of sorts. But that’s ok, no-one is asking you to join in. Once we’ve rested up, we’ll be on our way and you can go back to rebuilding your life now you can see again.”

“Hm… I don’t want to seem ungrateful but… that sounds good. Getting used to being able to see is enough. All the rest is.. it’s more than I can cope with.”

“Understood… go gentle with yourself. You’ve got a lot of living to catch up on, and a lot to familiarise yourself with again. A word of advice, take it slowly at first or you risk overwhelming yourself.”

“That sounds like good advice. Thank you.”

It was quite late in the day by the time Paul woke up, his back and leg muscles protesting yesterday’s mistreatment loudly. He’d slept on an improvised bed on the couch in Masami’s small living room.

Paul groaned even before he opened his eyes, and tried stretching.

“Don’t. You’ll hurt worse doing that.”

Paul rolled over at the sound of Nonemu’s voice. She was sitting in a lotus position in the most shadowed part of the room, dressed in a spaghetti strapped cami-top and panties, with her sword resting across her thighs.

“Good morning Nonemu... um, what are you doing?”

“Resting. I don’t sleep any more, but I do rest during the day if I can.”

“Okayyy. How are you?”

“Undead, again. My heart stopped at dawn.”

“I… really don’t know what to say to that. Ok, I think I need a long hot shower and maybe some brunch.”

“I’d recommended a massage first, then a shower. Or you risk cramps. I can do that for you.”

“Ah, that’s not necessary...”

“Respectfully, I disagree. I would be failing in my duty if I let harm come to you.”

Nonemu stood up in a single fluid motion.

“Really, Nonemu that’s unnecessary.”

“Lay down, and be quiet. I’m not going to bite you.. or seduce you.”

“Okay.. that’s mildly reassuring and yet terrifying at the same time. Why the sudden insistence?”

“Because the owner of this house is an innocent and the longer we stay here the more risk there is to her. And if you cramp up and hurt yourself, you won’t be fit to ride.”

Paul considered that statement, and reluctantly nodded.

“Ok, makes sense I suppose… alright then, reluctantly.”

Nonemu nodded and sighed.

“I understand. If the feeling of my dead flesh is more than you can stand, please say so.”

“Huh? Oh! No... my reluctance has nothing to do with you. It’s just… Well, it would help if you were dressed a bit more. Because if someone walks in, it’s going to be a bit awkward to explain.”

“Oh! I thought.. it was because I’m a vampire. I thought my touch repelled you.”

“Hardly that! It’s more…. Look, you’re actually quite cute to look at, even if you do act a bit creepy at times. The whole ‘ninja’ thing of vanishing or appearing unexpectedly is a bit, weird. But I’ve known plain old humans who were way scarier than you.”

“Thank you… I think.”

“Yeah, that sounded a lot better in my head. I need some coffee and half an hour to wake up properly.”

“Well, massage first, then I’ll put some coffee on while you shower. I can manage that much.”

“Hmm… keep talking while you work on my back. Otherwise I’ll fall asleep again. So... not good at cooking?”

“I’ve been told my cooking probably violates the Geneva convention and the ban on chemical weapons.”

“Ouch! Harsh… what did you do to deserve that?”

“Tried to cook for them. I got told never to do that again. Luckily, we only really need to eat to regenerate large amounts of lost tissue, so it’s never been a problem. There’s always take out. The problem is, I can’t taste anything, so I can’t tell if I got a recipe right.”

“How about smell?”

“Cooking smells just make me feel nauseous. Eating food to regenerate lost tissue I’m told is not a pleasant experience. A lot of the older ones prefer their meat to be bloodily raw and preferably still alive. That way it’s at least palatable.”

“Ew.. remind me never to share a meal with them.”

“You’d be the meal.”

Paul chuckled, his light tone belying his words.

“Considering your mouth is only a short distance from the back of my neck, that’s not very reassuring.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I’m still full from yesterday. I wouldn’t dare do this a couple of weeks from now though. Your neck would be very tempting.”

“Oh, how often do you need to feed?”

Nonemu’s hands paused on Paul’s back briefly.

“Need to, want to, and what is optimal, are different things. I want to feed all the time, unless it’s just afterwards. One learns to ignore it. I absolutely need to feed at least once a month… but the optimal is every two weeks roughly.”

“What happens if you don’t? I assume you loose control?”

“Yes, and eventually if we can’t feed we fall into a death-like state, looking like a mummified corpse. We can be revived with enough blood however. Some of the oldest of us have been allowed to lapse into that state, so they can be safely stored until needed. It’s not a process anyone wishes to undergo, but only so many of us are permitted to be awake at any one time.”

“And once again I’d like to shake someone warmly by the throat. I’ll say it again, how you’ve been treated is shockingly abusive.”

“It’s not like that… our commander loves us, and treats us like he does for our own good.”

“Yeah.. abusers always say that. The sad thing is, he probably genuinely thinks it too, because he’s just following the protocols laid down by someone long since dead. Making him just as much a victim of systemic abuse.”

“Hmm… true. Our commanding officer is always mortal. Some of them were.. not so good. But our current commander is a good man, honourable, decent. We can tell that what he has to do sometimes troubles him… a lot of us take efforts to avoid needing correction, because we can tell it pains him.”

Paul sighed.

“There is SO much wrong with that… but one problem at a time. Ok.. enough Nonemu, I’m going to get a shower.”

“Mmhm… ok… Um. Holmes-san… my name is Usagi.”

“Oh. Thank you for that. Wait.. doesn’t that mean..”

“Rabbit. I know.”

“Ah. I see why you prefer not to share it. One too many times being teased and called Kawaī usagi, right?”

“Yes. Very. Please don’t say that again.”

“I won’t. Mostly because you actually remind me of the vorpal bunny.”

“The what?”

Paul laughed, shaking his head.

“Look it up sometime, I’m not going to spoil the surprise for you. But it might change your mind about your name. Well, I’m off to get a shower.”