THE beautiful fox, Shinozaki, led me to a food stall. Not in Nakasu, the eat street near the tourist hotspot of Canal City, but Maizuru, west of Fukuoka Tenjin Station.
Shinozaki ducked his tall frame under the stall’s curtain. “Hey there, Chef, I’ll have the usual.” He appeared to be on friendly terms with the owner. “Actually, make it two today,” he amended.
“Oh?” responded a middle-aged man’s voice from the back. “Did you bring someone with you today, Shinozaki?”
“Sure did.”
Soon the sound of food being prepared was drifting over the counter. I fidgeted nervously, and Shinozaki addressed me from a neighboring seat.
“Here’s your bag.”
“Oh, right! You startled me when you grabbed it like that.”
“Sorry. I wanted to make sure the nekomata hadn’t marked it.”
“Food’s ready!” the cook declared as I accepted my bag.
With a jolt, I looked at the bar top to find two bowls of udon in rustic Koishiwara pottery. A scratch pattern had been etched into their outer surface with a hand planer. The broth within was clear and glossy, and delicately sliced green onions and thin pieces of fried tofu rested on top of the thin noodles.
“Thanks for the meal,” Shinozaki and I recited in unison, pressing our palms together in prayer.
The udon had a subtle yet refined flavor, and the faint aroma of bonito flakes tickled my nostrils. It was, simply put, a scrumptious meal.
“Mmm… This hits the spot,” I said.
Every so often, the noodles ensnared flakes of tempura. The pleasant crunch added delightful contrast, elevating the dish. I dipped my chopsticks in and out of the bowl in a state of total absorption. Not only was I famished, I also hadn’t eaten out in a long time. Only after more than half the noodles had vanished did I remember: I’d forgotten to thank my savior.
“Oh—Shinozaki! Thank you so much for rescuing me earlier.”
“No need to thank me. It’s my fault you got dragged into trouble in the first place. Eat as much as you like. Consider that my apology and a bit of hush money on the side.”
“Hush money?”
“Yeah.” He nibbled on a piece of fried tofu spongy with broth. It must have been quite tasty, for his eyes narrowed in delight. “These days, it’s easy for evidence of the supernatural to spread through social media and word of mouth. That kind of thing can be a matter of life and death for us ayakashi.”
“And that’s why you’re bribing me with udon?” I asked. “But even if I keep quiet, we made a pretty big scene in front of the station.”
Our squabble with the fortune teller might be trending already.
Shinozaki jerked his chin at my phone. “Look it up now.”
“Uh, really…?”
Prompted by his silent gaze, I picked up my phone.
“Am I missing something?” I mumbled after a moment.
When a celebrity merely walked down the street in our barbaric age, disrespectful videos of them surfaced online in five seconds flat. Yet I couldn’t find any discussion about the commotion in front of Fukuoka Tenjin Station.
“Weird,” I said. “There were people taking pictures of the station, but I can’t see the fortune teller’s booth in any of them.”
“That booth,” said Shinozaki, “is a trap that only people with powerful spiritual energy can see.”
“A trap? Right in front of Tenjin Station?”
Shinozaki shrugged. “Human authorities know about ayakashi and tolerate us. I’ve been tracking that black nekomata for a while now. After all, he’s been causing a ruckus around here lately. We ayakashi have to eliminate the troublemakers among us. If we fail to do so, the professionals get involved, and that means trouble for us as a whole.”
Something clicked in my mind. “Oh, I get it now. When you said, ‘I found you,’ you were referring to the nekomata, right?”
“In any case…” After an awkward pause, Shinozaki cleared his throat. “I run a business in Fukuoka that helps ayakashi move here and find work. I give strays like that black cat suitable jobs and homes. Everything I do is to make Fukuoka an easier place for ayakashi to live.”
“You sound like a public servant.”
“Public servants have a difficult time engaging with ayakashi. There are a lot of complications, religion being one of them.”
“Oh, I could see that.” I nodded.
“I match ayakashi who want to move to Fukuoka with groups of people who welcome their presence. I ensure their peaceful coexistence, turn a profit, and eat udon.”
“I knew relocation support services were popular among humans,” I said. “So that extends to ayakashi as well?”
I glanced at the leftover broth in my bowl. It shimmered with an appetizing, golden-brown sheen, and the beautiful color reminded me of a full moon. The unique texture of the thin, tender noodles had surprised me. What a delicious meal. It more than qualifies as a bit of hush money.
“I understand,” I said. “I won’t tell anyone about today. I promise.”
“Good,” Shinozaki said with a grin. “That’s a relief.”
After drinking the rest of my broth, I called toward the back of the stall, “Thanks for the meal! I’ll bring a friend with me next time.”
“Hmm, might be difficult,” the cook replied. “Most humans can’t come here.”
When he stepped into view, I nearly gasped. “An otter?!” I cried.
An apron was tied around the otter’s waist. He had a fluffy coat, spoke with the same voice as the disembodied cook, and stood around five and a half feet tall.
“Not exactly, miss,” the creature said, waving his furry paw in denial. “I’m a kappa, not an otter.”
“A kappa?!” I repeated, my voice rising. “Like those green things in Tenchika Fountain?!” I was thinking of the sculptures in the Tenjin Underground Mall. They bore plates on their heads and frolicked beneath the glittering light of water projections.
“Kappa come in all shapes and sizes,” interjected Shinozaki. “The stereotypical green ones are known throughout Japan, but kappa also refers to the sort of ayakashi Chef is.”
“Wow,” I said faintly. “There’s a lot to learn.”
“Chef’s cute, isn’t he?”
“He sure is.”
A beautiful fox; a sleek, black nekomata fortune teller; and a giant otter. Or kappa.
He’s certainly adorable, but my mind is struggling to keep up with all the fluffiness today.
“The name’s Kawazoe,” the otter said. “Nice to meetcha, miss.”
“Kawazoe, is it? I’m Kaede Kikui. It’s nice to meet you as well.”
As I shook Kawazoe’s paw, Shinozaki changed the subject. “By the way, any leads on the shapeshifting tanuki case?”
“None of the ayakashi I associate with have heard anything,” Kawazoe answered. “This tanuki might’ve blended into human society—they appear in public as a person but’re pulling strings in the background as an ayakashi. That happens from time to time.”
Shinozaki nodded. “It’s within the realm of possibility.”
When I remained silent, Shinozaki explained, “There are rumors of an ayakashi being involved in a personal data leak. We’ve determined that a shapeshifting tanuki is likely the culprit. Unfortunately, even the ayakashi division of the Fukuoka Prefectural Police Department is having trouble cracking the case.”
“Shinozaki here is personally looking into the case,” Kawazoe added. “He’s making sure we don’t draw unwarranted suspicion from the police.”
“Sounds rough,” I said.
So Shinozaki didn’t just help ayakashi relocate. He also responded to incidents not directly related to him. Between the matter of the shapeshifting tanuki and our encounter with the black cat, that had become abundantly clear. So much responsibility had to be difficult.