Say what you will, but Toshi was a good host.

The first thing he did when we reached his furnished cave was offer me some tea and clothing more suited to the cold of these higher altitudes. He even left for a little while to allow me to change in private.

This cave was clearly well lived in. It was fully furnished, electrically lit, and even heated. In front of the bookshelves lining the wall, two padded armchairs faced one another across a small, round table, though I noticed that one of them had been somewhat mutilated. Gaps and nooks had been artificially caved into the armchair. I could still see the seams where it had clearly been torn open and later resewn, after some of the padding had been taken out. The cave’s other wall held a kitchen isle with a gas-lit stove and even an oven and a modern tap. There was even a fridge, though how Toshi had managed to lay electricity into the cave was beyond me. A dining table occupied the center of the room, along with four stools. The far edge of the cave appeared to end in a plain rock face, but upon a little scrutinization, I could make out a small tunnel leading further into the mountain. Seeing as I saw nothing suitable here, I expected back there was where Toshi slept. The modern furniture against the bare and rough walls of the cavern created a peculiar contrast, yet somehow it was odd enough to almost feel like a conscious stylistic choice.

“So, this is where you live?” I asked when Toshi returned from his modesty run.

He only nodded, standing about as awkwardly in the room as I was.

As nicely as he was treating me, he really wasn’t one for many words, was he?

“Um, mind if I ask what that was with the other tengu at the temple?” I asked, warming my hands on the tea he’d made for me earlier.

He sat down in the mutilated armchair, his wings fitting neatly into the artificial grooves, not so much as giving me a glance before he picked up a book. “It doesn’t really concern you. You just need to wait here until Kaoru shows his face, that’s all.”

I stared at him, and a thought tugged at my tongue. “Are you guys… friends?”

The question was out of my mouth before I knew I wanted to ask it. It had been the first time I’d heard Toshi say Kaoru’s name, and there’d been a strange sensation in the sound, something utterly familiar, as if it was a name that had often been used, something as familiar as his own name, perhaps even more so.

Toshi flinched, his ears growing red while his nose was taking on a white tint.

Instead of responding, he snapped the book shut and breezed out of the cave again, leaving me behind to ponder alone. I watched the cave opening with crossed arms for a moment. Well, if he was just going to leave me on my own after kidnapping me without explanations, I wasn’t going to feel guilty for snooping a little.

Time for my own investigation!

I looked around the cave again, trying to pinpoint the most likely place for a clue. The shelves caught my attention. The wall was practically completely covered in books—Toshi clearly liked his reading materials. I took a step closer to get a better look at the titles.

A lot of them were books on yokai, written by humans, but there were also some handwritten volumes that seemed to describe tengu traditions. One of them was the one that Toshi had started to read just before storming out. I picked it up, curious about its contents. I was about to dive in, when another corner of the shelf caught my attention. I recognized those covers!

I rushed over to confirm my suspicion, and I couldn’t have been more on the money. There was an entire corner of Toshi’s bookshelf dedicated to just one author—a murder mystery writer from the human realm, Tohikito Masato. He’d had global success with his novels—I’d read some of them in Japanese, English, and Portuguese. And apparently Toshi was a fan like me, how curious. I had to smirk at this revelation. To find a specific human author that he was obsessed with among all these non-fiction books truly felt like a treasured find.

Now to my actual research. I made myself comfortable on the couch and delved into Toshi’s book on tengu traditions.

I opened it at Toshi’s bookmark—a dried ginko leaf—and was not disappointed. There was a drawing of a beautifully painted fan. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint why that was. Perhaps it would come to me when I stopped thinking about it. Instead, I read what was written about it.

In short, apparently, it was an ancient artifact that transferred the special powers of the tengu chief to his successor on his death bed.

So what happened when the artifact wasn’t available?

The elder tengu’s words returned to me.

You must recover it before your father becomes one with the wind, or your leadership is forfeit.

Now, I didn’t have any guarantee that this was actually connected, and that this was the “it” they’d spoken about, but I had a feeling that it would have been just a little too coincidental not to be connected, especially considering Toshi had been looking for a fan just like this in Kaoru’s house.

That implied that the tengu clan might be in serious trouble if Kaoru didn’t actually have this artifact—or if he didn’t get here in time. He’d said he would be home by nightfall. Feeling antsy, I got to my feet and crossed through the tunnel until I could see the sky through the opening.

It wasn’t even late afternoon yet.

How much time did Toshi’s father have left?

The thought of Toshi losing his father left my heart wrenching. He knew there wasn’t much time. He knew that death was imminent. Of course, I didn’t mean what death meant to yokai, but it must still be a loss. While I had no idea what kind of relationship Toshi had with his father, my heart bled for him. Tears came to my eyes remembering my own experience—something I didn’t wish on my worst enemies.

Only then, as I stumbled toward the cave’s exit, I noticed Toshi leaning on the wall in the entrance to the tunnel, his gaze far off, watching the clouds below move gently.

He seemed to be reminiscing about something, pondering, perhaps, with a gentle smile on his lips but a sad look in his eyes.

I cleared my throat. “Are you… okay?”

Dazed, he looked up at me, but he regained his composure quickly. “It’s not safe out here, go back inside.”

I remained where I was. I wasn’t an expert on tengu by any standards, but I recognized a suffering person when I saw one. And if I knew one thing about suffering, it was that talking about it aloud could help put things in a new perspective even when you didn’t think that it could. I knew I had monologued for hours into my coffee after my father passed. There hadn’t even been anyone around, just talking aloud did the trick. I’d also written letters to him. Letters I then burned, hoping desperately that my words might reach him, wherever he might be. It didn’t matter if you knew your parent was going to die. It didn’t matter how much time you had left with them—it would never be enough. Never enough time to say everything that needed to be said. There were always words that wouldn’t develop until it was too late. Truths that needed to be shared. Love to be conveyed.

Even now, I hadn’t said everything I needed to tell him.

But you couldn’t let grief stop you. The world kept moving, and you had to as well. And based on what I’d read, Toshi had to carry a heavy weight on his shoulders. There was a lot of responsibility to be taken over.

“I know what you’re going through,” I said. Toshi looked up in surprise and I hurriedly added, “Not exactly of course—your situation is a lot more complicated than mine was, but…” I slowed my speech and spoke more quietly, to emphasize my understanding. “I lost my father a few months ago. He was the only real family I had. I still have relatives, but we’ve never been close and it’s not the same. It was hard, watching him die. And it was just as hard to move on without letting it push me down, but I had to, for his sake as well as mine.”

After a moment, he nodded, and pushed himself off the wall, his face an unreadable mask. “Let’s go inside.”