By the time Ezume dragged himself out of his apartment, the morning had hardened into a bright, unforgiving noon. The sun hung high and pale over Toyama, bleaching the colour from the streets and forcing the shadows to cower beneath awnings and power lines. He'd changed into a fresh t-shirt - blue, with the word "LUNOSCEPTIC" printed across the chest in loud orange letters that practically glowed against the fabric. It was a gift from Sato, who'd found it on some obscure conspiracy merch site and bought it as a joke. Ezume wore it unironically. He also wore the same gray cargo pants as yesterday, the same worn-out sneakers, and the same three omamori dangling from his belt. He was not a man who believed in reinventing himself. He believed in consistency.

Sato was waiting for him outside the konbini near the train station, leaning against the wall with a can of iced coffee in one hand and an expression of profound, theatrical disappointment on his face. He'd dressed even more casually than usual — jeans, a plain white t-shirt, his red hair pulled back in its usual messy ponytail. He looked like he'd rolled out of bed twenty minutes ago, which he probably had.

"You," Sato said, pushing himself off the wall and falling into step beside Ezume, "are the most incompetent human being I have ever met."

"Good morning to you too."

"It's noon."

"Good noon, then."

They walked in silence for half a block. Sato took a long sip of his coffee, swallowed, and shook his head slowly, like a disappointed father who'd just read his son's report card.

"I've been thinking about this all morning," he said. "All. Morning. I couldn't sleep. You know how hard it is for me to sleep in the first place. And instead of sleeping, I was lying there, staring at the ceiling, trying to understand."

"Understand what ?"

"How a guy - a perfectly normal, reasonably intelligent guy, who has a pulse and functional eyes - can have a beautiful girl literally climb into his bed and still manage to screw it up."

Ezume's shoulders tightened. "I didn't screw anything up. I screamed because she was trying to bite me."

"She was trying to give you a hickey !"

"She had predator teeth !"

"You keep saying that like it's a deal-breaker." Sato gestured expansively with his coffee can. "Maybe she's just into cosplay. Maybe she files her teeth. Maybe she's a vampire, I don't know, but the point is, she was in your room, at midnight, offering to put her mouth on your neck, and you screamed like a fire alarm."

"It was a tactical scream."

"A tactical scream."

"I was gathering data."

"By screaming."

"The scream was part of the data-gathering process."

Sato stopped walking. He turned to face Ezume, his expression one of genuine, almost academic curiosity. "Explain to me. Please. I'm begging you. How does screaming help you gather data ?"

Ezume kept walking. Sato had to jog a few steps to catch up.

"It confirmed her reaction time," Ezume said, counting off on his fingers. "It tested her startle response. It demonstrated that she's afraid of loud noises but not holy talismans, which is a significant data point in determining what kind of supernatural entity she might be. If I hadn't screamed, I wouldn't have that information."

"You would have had a hickey."

"That's not-"

"That's exactly the point ! She was there to give you a hickey ! She literally told you that ! And instead of saying 'yes, please, thank you very much,' you screamed at her !"

"I didn't scream at her. I screamed in her general direction."

"Oh, well, that's much better. That's very romantic. I'm sure she's telling all her friends about the guy who screamed in her general direction."

Ezume shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and scowled at the pavement. They were walking through the shopping district now, past closed boutiques and shuttered restaurants that wouldn't open until evening. A few people were out - an old woman walking a tiny dog, a couple of kids on bicycles, a salaryman staring at his phone - but the streets were mostly empty. Toyama on a Saturday afternoon had the quiet, suspended feeling of a city holding its breath.

"The only lead we have," Ezume said, deliberately changing the subject, "is the bar."

Sato sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"Yoru no Kōbō. That's where I first saw her. She was sitting alone in the back booth, watching people. That's what she does. She watches."

"According to her."

"According to her, yes."

"And according to her, she's also just a girl looking for a good time, which you have apparently decided is a lie, because it doesn't fit your boogeyman theory."

"It doesn't fit the evidence," Ezume corrected. "The pointed teeth. The glowing eyes. The window jump. The fact that she wasn't afraid of a sacred talisman but was afraid of loud noise. None of that fits with 'just a girl looking for a good time.'"

Sato made a thoughtful noise. "Okay. Fair. Let's say you're right. Let's say she's a boogeywoman. Why would she be hanging out in a cocktail bar ? Don't they, like, live in caves ? Or under beds ? Or in closets ?"

"Boogeymen are not closet monsters. That's a Western misconception. Japanese boogeymen - yokai of the dream-eating variety - are documented as living among humans. They have territories. They have rules. They blend in."

"They blend in by wearing pink croptops and drinking cocktails ?"

"They blend in by looking like us," Ezume said. "That's the whole point. You can't blend in if you're hiding in a cave. You blend in by being in a bar, watching people, and nobody notices you're a monster because they're too busy looking at their phones."

Sato considered this for a moment. Then he drained the rest of his coffee, crushed the can in his fist, and tossed it into a recycling bin with a practiced, one-handed arc.

"Fine. We'll go to the bar. We'll ask if anyone knows her. We'll describe her. 'Super hot blonde, pink croptop, predator teeth, possibly a mythical creature.' That'll go over great."

"We don't mention the teeth, or the mythical aspect."

"Obviously we don't mention it. I'm not an idiot."

They rounded a corner and the bar came into view. By daylight, Yoru no Kōbō looked almost unrecognizable. The neon sign was off, the pink glow replaced by a dull, unlit plastic tube that snaked across the façade like a dead worm. The windows were dark. The door was closed. A small, handwritten sign hung from the handle: Open at 5 PM.

Sato stopped in front of the door and stared at the sign.

"Closed."

"I can see that."

"So we wait."

They stood there for a moment, two teenagers on an empty sidewalk, staring at a closed bar, trying to figure out how to find a girl who might or might not be a mythical creature. A breeze stirred the dead leaves at their feet. The old woman with the tiny dog passed them again, going the other direction. The dog gave Ezume a look of profound suspicion.

"This is pathetic," Sato said.

"Pathetic ?"

"We're really doing this."

"Yeah, duh. Only way. If you got any other plan, share it, dude."

They waited another thirty minutes in complete silence.

"Fine." Sato pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. "What do we know about her ? Actually. Let's make a list. A real list. Not one of your forum lists with forty-seven subheadings."

Ezume frowned. "My lists are thorough."

"Your lists are obsessive. Give me facts. Simple facts."

"She's blonde. Blue eyes. About my height. Wears a pink croptop and a black trench coat. Has pointed teeth. Glowing eyes. Can jump out a first-story window without injury. Not afraid of talismans. Afraid of loud noises. Claims to like watching people. Was alone at the bar on a Friday night. Didn't seem to know anyone there."

Sato typed as Ezume spoke, his thumbs moving quickly. When he finished, he read the list back.

"Blonde. Blue eyes. Pink croptop. Pointy teeth. Window jump. Not scared of magic paper (wow... so surprising). Scared of screaming (or scared of a dude screaming at her after calling her a yokai). People-watcher. Alone at bar. No friends."

"That's accurate, though you could avoid the personnal notes."

"Man, you dragged me into this. So let me handle my notes however I want, at least. By the way, this is the strangest list I've ever made."

"I've made stranger."

"I don't doubt that." Sato pocketed his phone. "Okay. We've got a description. We come back at five, we show the bartender, we ask if he's seen her before. If she's a regular, he'll know. If she's not, we're out of luck."

"And if he does know her ?"

"Then we ask where she lives. Or where she hangs out. Or if she's got a phone number. Something. Anything." Sato paused. "And if we find her, you're going to talk to her. Not scream. Not run. Talk."

"I wasn't planning to scream."

"You screamed last night."

"That was a special circumstance."

"Every circumstance with you is a special circumstance." Sato clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on. We've got three hours to kill. You're buying me ramen."

"Huh ? I didn't lose the bet yet, man !"

They walked away from the bar, leaving the dead neon sign and the closed door behind them. The sun was still high, the streets still quiet, and somewhere in the city, a blonde girl with predator teeth was watching people. Ezume didn't know where. He didn't know when. But he knew he was going to find her.

And this time, he wouldn't scream.

SEE YOU FOR CHAPTER 9...