u/Hayakumo_Yoichi

Today was a long, hard day.

A light drizzle fell from the leaden sky.

After dark, I visited a bar called 'Easy-Gwen’ for the first time. It was my colleague’s favorite and his top recommendation.

On the entrance door, a placard caught my eyes;

‘A Big Bang Welcome to any customer who enters through this door.

– Bar 'Easy-Gwen’ Master.’

I wondered if it was supposed to mean something, or if it was just a bad joke.

No customers were inside.

As I started to take a stool at the counter, the bartender barked at me.

“Hey! You’re picking the wrong seat. Try the next one.”

“Pardon? It looks fine to me.”

“It’s… reserved, in a way. A regular is already there tonight.”

I blinked hard. There was no one in sight.

“Is there?”

“That regular – she’s a drifter. She wanders that specific seat, jumping from one universe to another across the multiverse.”

“You mean this counter exists in every universe, and she just switches between them?”

“This bar is a unique substance, you see,” he replied.

Intrigued, I took a seat right next to that empty one.

“She’ll show up,” he said, the corner of his lips curling slightly. “But no one can tell when.”

I made up my mind and ordered a pint.

“Yeah, I can wait,” I said.

I’m going to stay in this cosy, tiny universe until her arrival.

When I was young and innocent, I visited Japan for a summer exchange program. During the final week of my stay, I took a trip around the Tohoku region –the northern part of Honshu island. Because my best friend Yataro often said, “you never say ‘I visit Japan’ till you come to Akita.”

The night before my last day, I stayed at Yataro’s family home near Akita city. I was treated to delicious local food and excellent ‘sake.’ His mother was a great cook, and the warm, welcoming atmosphere was wonderful. 

After a short rest, Yataro suddenly asked with a grin, 
“Have you ever been to a Girls Bar?” 
I was surprised that he had never invited me out for a drink before – especially not to a place with attendant girls.  But at the same time, I was very curious. 
He raised his index finger and said, “I know a good one, and I’d love to introduce you.”
"Okay, Let's see if you’re telling the truth."

It was a beautiful summer night in Akita; I remember the scent of the grass and the cheerful sound of insects along the river road. 
We reached the Girls Bar ‘Komachi’ in about fifteen minutes. 

—

Inside the ‘Komachi,’ it was like another world.
They served food and drinks like ordinary bars, but that wasn’t all. The conversation with girls was their main service.
“What? I have to pay for just talking with a girl?” I asked Yataro.
“Yep,” he replied with a straight face, “That’s exactly why guys come here.” 
“Ridiculous! Why should I pay for a short conversation?”
The girl standing behind the counter – her name was Tamaki – said,
“In Japan, many guys are too shy to talk to women.” 
She looked young, but seemed to know a lot about men. 
“That's why the Girls Bars are so popular.”
I quietly asked Yataro, wondering if it was legal for teens to work in a place serving alcohol. 
“Hey! Is your eyesight okay?” he laughed, “She’s twenty-eight.” 
“Nope! I’m still twenty-six, you liar!"
Tamaki shot back, though she didn’t look really angry.  
“You’re actually twenty-seven, sister!” Yataro replied.
I was stunned. 
“Sister? You mean…”
“Oops, I forgot to tell you – Tamaki is my elder sister,” he laughed.
“When I told her about you, she was quite interested. Then she asked me to introduce you when you come to visit Akita.”
Tamaki smiled brightly at me and extended her hand.
“Nice to meet you, my bro’s friend!”
“Glad to meet you too,” I said, shaking her hand.

My awkwardness vanished quickly. 
Yet she was cute and so friendly. She never showed a hint of hesitation to even 'Gaijin' --a foreigner-- like me.

Tamaki had bright brown eyes, a well-shaped nose, red lips and smooth skin. She was beautiful, but not only good at keeping conversation; She also had impressive magic skills.
“Please, one more time, Tamaki-san,” I begged her with both palms together, after watching her blue flame magic. 
“No," she chuckled. “You'd stop talking while I’m performing magic."
Yataro had been talking with another girl and never looked at the magic.
“I love your blue-flame,” I pleaded. “Just once more." 
She seemed to have given up. 
“Keep your hands on the counter,” she said, and placed her hands over mine. 
“Okay,” I agreed. “They’re stuck."
"My blue flame is called 'Kitsune-bi,' she whispered. “It doesn’t burn. Now, I'll light your eyelashes one by one, boy."

Tamaki leaned towards me. It was so close that I could smell her faint perfume. There was a tiny bright blue flame lit on the tip of her index finger.
“Please count with me”
My heart was pumping as her face came very close. 
“One.” 
“One,” I echoed. A tiny flame appeared on my eyelash tip. 
“Two.” 
I said,  “two.” Just after her soft, low voice. 
“Three.” 
I felt my eyelids go heavy a bit. “Three.” 
“Four,” I heard her voice from a distance.
“Four…”
“Five…” 
The blue flames were dancing in my sight. And her face dissolved into the flames. There remained only a scent of her feminine perfume surrounding me.
That was what I last remembered.

—

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on a park bench. It was early morning, the eastern sky was getting bright.
“Where am I…? What’s happened to me…”
When I found my bags laid beside the bench, I heard a familiar voice from behind.
“Good morning,” it was Yataro’s voice. “Had a good sleep, man?”
I turned around then… I saw a fox, instead of my friend. My jaw dropped.
“Yes!” Yataro the fox jumped cheerfully. “We made it! You were bewitched by my sister -- Tamaki.”
“You mean… er, real magic?” I was confused. “Why on earth did you do such things?”
“Because we like you. It's our traditional way of communicating with humans.”
“Hey! What did I eat and drink last night.”
“Don’t worry. They were genuine foods and drinks. We quit putting an illusion on them, nowadays.” 
Yataro explained that they had been tricking people for centuries, but they never had malicious intent toward innocent ones.
“You were tricked, but you had fun. Right?”
“...Yes, certainly,” I admitted in a choked voice.
Yataro, grinned.
“In Japan, when a fox ‘counts someone’s eyelashes,’ it means they have enchanted that person. ”
“Er, about your sister Tamaki, is she also…” I wondered if she was really a witch.
“She likes you, if that’s what you want to know.”
“Is she here?” 
Yataro shook his head. 
“Me only. You are leaving tomorrow, so I’m here to say farewell to my friend.”
He said calmly, “in our traditional style.”
Suddenly, I was hit by sadness.

I tried to get close to my animal friend, but he jumped and disappeared into the air with a puff of smoke.
“Can we meet again?” I asked the sky. 
“No, I don’t think…” He replied.
But instantly, there was another voice who replied.
“Maybe next time you visit,” it’s Tamaki. “If you can find me.”
“Hey, I didn't pay for drinks,” I said aloud. “or even for the magic!”
“We don’t need rewards...” Yataro said, but Tamaki interrupted. 
“I love Garrett Popcorn’s Chicago Mix.”
And then, they were gone.

While collecting my luggage, I was already planning my next trip to Japan. I would bring popcorn and some snacks for them.
“Haha,”
I laughed quietly, because I noticed that I was grinning like an idiot.

Today was a long, hard day. 
A light drizzle fell from the leaden sky. 

After dark, I visited a bar called 'Easy-Gwen’ for the first time. It was my colleague’s favorite and his top recommendation. 

On the entrance door, a placard caught my eyes; 
‘A Big Bang Welcome to any customer who enters through this door.  
– Bar 'Easy-Gwen’ Master.’ 

I wondered if it was supposed to mean something, or if it was just a bad joke.  

No customers were inside. 
As I started to take a stool at the counter, the bartender barked at me. 
“Hey! You’re picking the wrong seat. Try the next one.” 
“Pardon? It looks fine to me.” 
“It’s… reserved, in a way. A regular is already there tonight.” 
I blinked hard. There was no one in sight. 
“Is there?” 
“That regular – she’s a drifter. She wanders that specific seat, jumping from one universe to another across the multiverse.” 
“You mean this counter exists in every universe, and she just switches between them?” 
“This bar is a unique substance, you see,” he replied. 

Intrigued, I took a seat right next to that empty one. 
“She’ll show up,” he said, the corner of his lips curling slightly. “But no one can tell when.” 

I made up my mind and ordered a pint. 
“Yeah, I can wait,” I said. 

I’m going to stay in this cosy, tiny universe until her arrival. 

We were young—too young. 

Actually, we were in our early teens, though we believed we were part of some adult conspiracy. We supposed ourselves to possess adult secrets, adult knowledge, adult manners and adult bodies. Laughable, wasn’t it?  

One fine day, just after the rainy season, we found a puddle on the asphalt. 
His face brightened as he pointed at it. 
"Hey, do you know what this is? A gate to the multiverse!" 
"Oh, really?” I lowered my voice. “If that's a gate, then your mouth must be a black hole!" 
I was so stupid then; I didn't understand Kotodama—the power of words. I also didn’t imagine that such things existed.  

I thought he had twisted his lips in annoyance, but now I realize he was smiling. Oh, he truly knew what he was doing!  

He jumped. He dived into the puddle feet-first. 
"Watch out! You'll break your—" 
But he didn't answer. He simply disappeared into the water.  

—

Twenty years have passed since that day. 
One shining Sunday, I was taking my five-year-old son to the playground. On the road, my son found a puddle.  

He said, in a bright, clear voice, "Hey Dad, he’s coming back!”
I laughed, thinking my son just played the role of some anime character. 
“And, who is going to come back to our universe, boy?” 
“It’s your old friend, he’s approaching. You know, it's a gate!" 
I was truly scared by the words he had just spoken. 
"Dad, you know it's the gate." 
He pointed at that tiny, shallow puddle. At that moment, a human head poked out from the water… 

It was him!  

Because my son naturally understood the secret of Kotodama, he had opened the gate which my friend had used so long ago. 
My friend had aged; and looked almost the same age as I was. 
He looked up, and slightly tilted his head. 
And he said in a cheerful voice, "Hi! I’m home!"

After looking around the world from the puddle, my old friend noticed my son. 
“Hey! You’ve got a son. Pretty like you in your younger days”  

I pulled my son closer, shielding him with my arms, and said, “Yeah… Actually, I am” 
I felt as if my tongue were tangled in my mouth. 

“So you’ve become a father too.” 
“And you?” I asked, simply wondering. 

He gave me a wide, bright smile. 
“Oh, yes. I came back home to see my dad and mom, to show them their grandson and granddaughter… You know, a bit of filial piety.” 

“Ah, you know… your parents have grown old, and they were deeply damaged when you disappeared…” I struggled, choosing my words carefully to avoid the heavy truth. “I'm telling you this for your own good—stay away from them today. Wait for another chance.” 

He nodded, his face turning dark and pale. 

However, I dared not let them meet; for I had seen the gills on both sides of his neck.

We were young—too young. 

Actually, we were in our early teens, though we believed we were part of some adult conspiracy. We supposed ourselves to possess adult secrets, adult knowledge, adult manners and adult bodies. Laughable, wasn’t it?  

I often said things like, "What’s the difference between us and them–Adults? You see? We just don't have women. I don't mean just 'girlfriends'; I mean more intimate relations with females. We’re bored of being those dreaming kids." 

When I declared this, he nodded like a woodpecker. 

One fine day, just after the rainy season, we found a puddle on the asphalt. 
His face brightened as he pointed at it. 
"Hey, do you know what this is? A gate to the multiverse!" 
"Oh, really?” I lowered my voice. “If that's a gate, then your mouth must be a black hole!" 
I was so stupid then; I didn't understand Kotodama—the power of words. I also didn’t imagine that such things truly existed.  

I thought he had twisted his lips in annoyance, but now I realize he was smiling. Oh, he truly knew what he was doing!  

He jumped. He dived into the puddle feet-first. 
"Watch out! You'll break your—" 
But he didn't answer. He simply disappeared into the water.  

—

Twenty years have passed since that day. 
One shining Sunday, I was taking my five-year-old son to the playground. On the road, my son found a puddle.  

He said, in a bright, clear voice, "Hey Dad, it's a gate!" 
I was truly scared by the words he had just spoken. 
"Dad, you know it's the gate." 
He pointed at that tiny, shallow puddle. At that moment, a human head poked out from the water… 

It was him!  

Because my son naturally understood the secret of Kotodama, he had opened the gate my friend had used so long ago. 
My friend had aged; and looked almost the same age as I was. 
He looked up, and slightly tilted his head aside. 
And he said in a cheerful voice, "Hi! I’m home!"

You are doing it again! I let out a deep sigh. 
"You’ve done it, again…" 
"But... That's because his hands are so beautiful. Long fingers, with smooth hands... There's not even any scratches." 
Yeah, your favorite is just another man with Peter Pan Syndrome.  
"Yeah, of course he doesn't work and never washes dishes." 
"You know that he eats meals with relish and so elegantly." 
I know that you are fond of that kind of King-Thrushbeard man. 
"Certainly, if someone else is paying. (It’s you!) It's bound to be delicious!" 
"Why? Why do ya spit out such sarcasm!" 
You cry and shake your head side to side. 
Why don’t you quit playing the innocent girl who falls for a romance scam? 
"Don't you see? It's your ‘Mr-Dreamboat’--your boyfriend's fault that you could never meet someone right for you."  

Tears fall from your reddened eyes. Without any words. 
"You've been deceiving yourself." 
I’m speaking in a tearful voice, towards the Medicine Cabinet on the wall. 
"You know, I really dislike... You." 

I know, because I’ve been lying to myself all along.

You are doing it again! I let out a deep sigh. 
"You’ve done it, again…" 
"But... That's because his hands are so beautiful. Long fingers, with smooth hands... There's not even any scratches." 
Yeah, your favorite is just another man with Peter Pan Syndrome.  
"Yeah, of course he doesn't work and never washes dishes." 
"You know that he eats meals with relish and so elegantly." 
I know that you are fond of that kind of King-Thrushbeard man. 
"Certainly, if someone else is paying. (It’s you!) It's bound to be delicious!" 
"Why? Why do ya spit out such sarcasm!" 
You cry and shake your head side to side. 
Why don’t you quit playing the innocent girl who falls for a romance scam? 
"Don't you see? It's your ‘Mr-Dreamboat’--your boyfriend's fault that you could never meet someone right for you."  

Tears fall from your reddened eyes. Without any words. 
"You've been deceiving yourself." 
I’m speaking in a tearful voice, towards the Medicine Cabinet on the wall. 

"You know, I really dislike... You." 

I know, because I’ve been lying to myself all along.

I extend my hands bearing the marks of a ring, and grab a well-polished glass.
I tilt it toward the beer tap. 
No haste, no hurry, but with steady encouragement. 

Amber-colored liquid swirls in the glass. 
I’m getting excited. 

Micro-bubbles rise and gather, forming a 'bubble-cumulus' head. 
The result is so perfect that my heart pounds with anticipation. 

I press the glass to my slightly parted lips. 
The taste? It’s perfect, too! 
The aroma that fills my nose is wonderful.

“Ah, well… I suppose that's mine, ma'am?” 

The man in front of me speaks up. 
"Oops." 
I’ve just downed the pint I was supposed to serve him.

Thrust! --A man crashes into me with shoulder first. 
A heavy stab; something inserts to my left flank. My belly changes into as heavy as lead. 
I cough. I cough several times, and my throat gets burnt. 
Then I see what is sticking out from my torso. 
Ah! Knife.  

A man who thrust me is looking down with twisted lips. 
"I don't know what you are... but you shouldn't have coughed when you are stalkin', you bloody sack" 
I ignore his what-to-say. 
“You are late..." 
I cough. I face him, and cough. 
“...It's so close to our time’s up." 
“So, what? It's only your time up, not mine." 
Now my nostril is full of the iron smell. 
“Finally, you come to me. So…" I cough. 
While I am speaking, blood spatters from my mouth and spreads around. 
He keeps smiling evil, with a blood spotted face and bloody hands. 
“So, what do you say to me?” 
“I appreciate it.” 
“You, disgusting.” 

Without another word, he turns and walks away into the darkness of a sleepless city. 
He must believe he just finished me. 
I fall down to my knees. While struggling to stay upright, I watch him –the man who killed my wife and unborn baby– dissolve into the darkest alley through my misty vision. Darkness falls in my eyes. 
I lose his shadow, but his footsteps remain. Then, I hear a sound of triumph: he's coughing.  

He coughs! And he can not stop coughing. 
"You! What the hell..." He can't finish, because he's choking on a hard cough. 
I try to laugh, but instead, I fall forward and hit my face on the asphalt. No pain, only joy. 
In any case, my time is up. I have been carrying a fatal disease. 
This deadly virus is weak against oxygen but highly infectious, and will infect anyone who touches an infected person's blood. And it goes down through his skin, then deep into veins.  

He cries out, knowing his time is nearly up. And coughs. 
I've done it. Ah...my revenge!

He just looked at me; that’s how we met. 

Next time, I went there just to catch a glimpse of him. He looked downward and stared intensely. 
From then on, he came to that balcony every day. 
Ah. What a romance! Like ‘Roméo et Juliette,’ I suppose. 

One day, he suddenly called my name. How on earth did he know it?
“And your name?” I asked in a cotton whisper. 
“ Love …Ok, I'm kidding you! But what's in a name? It’s meaningless between you and me.” 
He shouted it aloud, I was so scared that someone might hear him. 
“You are a very name of Love," he continued, "and mine is but a puppet of Death.” 
“It's the opposite!” I whispered back. For he was on the balcony and I looked up from below. 
“I’m coming down to you, okay?” He said. 
Although I was thrilled, I had to reject his approach. 
“Never! We can never be together. Stay where you belong, please! Don’t come down.”  
But his mind was made up, “I want to get together with you, my sweet Death.” 
Finally, he came to me. He plunged from the bridge.

Since then, we’ve been getting along, happily ever after beneath the cold river.

It was Friday night, and I was waiting for my girlfriend. 
I was at her favorite bistro; I loved the place too, mostly for the craft beer and the homemade sausages. 
“Hey master! This brand‑new beer is incredible!” I cried out.
“Ah, you noticed? That’s our Elven Ale.” 
“Exactly. I wonder what the secret is… Is it the pour? Or the brewing process?”
The master let out a warm, amused chuckle.
"One thing is for sure–you’ve got a magic touch..." I murmured, leaning over the counter. "If I had already drunk too much, I’d say you were hiding elves back there... But that’s impossible!"
I laughed at my own joke. “Forget what I said”

He laughed too, then he leaned towards me and dropped his voice to a whisper.
“Bingo! I keep two elves back in the brewery. Maybe that’s my secret.” 
“Unbelievable!” I said, playing along. “How did you catch them? Do you live in a fantasy world?”
“Of course not… Honestly, I saved their lives once, so they’ve been returning the favor ever since.”
I watched his long, pointed nose. “It’s like a fairy tale is happening right here…”  
Just then, through a crack in the back office door, I caught a glimpse of small cages stacked in the shadows. 
The master laughed softly. “What’s wrong? You don’t really buy my tall tale, do you?”
“Sure," I said, my voice trembling slightly. “I can’t stop believing you. I can see it now… sometimes fairy tales really do come true.” 

I kept my eyes fixed on his nose. It was growing and growing, inch by inch, stretching out endlessly… There was no sign of stopping.