#3/26: The roof

Their shadows sprawl out over the vacant rooftop, extending to the very ledges where they are absorbed by the lurking darkness. Lifeless, yet fluid copies: obedient to every command. In a ritual of glutenous ridicule, they exploit their shadows, obliging their alter-selves to move in various shapes and configurations. Cusped on the edge of worlds, these two dare to approach this complete mockery with laughter, proprietors of slaves in their own right, with the only insurance of safety being that of the reality they foolishly grasp.

Their midnight play only furthers his intoxication. Finding his shadow's torment to be amusing, but tiresome all the same, he sits down for a small rest and takes a sip of the one-cup-sake she had bought them at the 24 hour convenience store. Momentarily, his head becomes clear. Why they had been drawn to such a place was a mystery to him. Perhaps the security of the solid earth lacks the excitement she had been seeking. Climbing all seven flights of the inn to come here was, in fact, by her suggestion. While he had been unsure, considering his state of drunkenness, she had bounded up the steps as if enchanted.

To his credit, they had spent a very full day and there was reason to be exhausted. Having come to this remote town by express train earlier in the morning, they had enjoyed the time walking by the sea, exploring a few shrines, sampling the local specialty of abura-age, and bathing at the hot springs. While not the vibrant tourist town it had once been, the attractions and amenities necessary for operating traditional ryokan inns and their onsen baths remained, and traveling around to all the popular sites certainly took a while.

Having spent an exciting day together, he had high hopes for the evening. She had remained close to his side the entire day, clasping his hand as they traversed the narrow streets and steep hills, and they even shared a few romantic moments, taking several photos together with the picturesque scenery of one ancient shrine. At the ryokan, she struggled to stop giggling as he awkwardly fumbled with the key to their room and opened the door. Putting their bags down and finding matching sets of towels and yukata, they gave parting remarks and set off to the gender-separated hot springs.

Returning to their rooms freshly bathed, they both sat at the small table on the tatami. At this moment, he had been at a loss as to what to do. Her hair had been taken care of with a blow drier by the baths, but droplets of water still traced the nape of her neck, sliding down further into the folds of her yukata. For a few moments, they sat in silence. Suddenly, with a sly grin, she expressed that she felt a yearning for some excitement. His face turned several colors as he replied with an "okay". She stealthily left the room and shut herself in the bathroom. Thinking that he understood her intentions, he made his way to the bedroom, in quite a peaked state of mind, for he had never taken her in bed before, nor had he seen her fully.

To his utter shameful embarrassment, she returned from the bathroom, dressed in a thick orange sweater and black jeans. "Aren't you gonna get ready?", she asked him. The ryokan, while quite spacious, was not equipped with a restaurant or bar, so she suggested that they go by some of the izakaya along the main road that lead to the station. Making up some excuse for taking out the bedding and the strange position she had found him in, he quickly changed into normal clothes and stuffed his wallet into his pocket.

On the roof, he finds her mysteriousness all the more attractive. Even her shadow puts him in a daze as he watches her colorless form dancing in the moonlight, urging him with slow sensual sways. An irresistible call to action, he stands up again and plunges himself into a world of little consequence, a nocturnal play land. He joins in the dance. Together, they form shapeless bodies, swaying to the beat of some unknown, silent beat.  

At the local izakaya, they had devoured copious amounts of ninonshu rice wine. Every time he attempted to order a beer, whiskey, or even water, she had cancelled it, telling the master to just bring another bottle of sake. He was usually weak to that drink, but with her charm, he had been persuaded. Again and again. But it is too late to question this now. On top of the ryokan, he is already under the spell. There is of no use but to embrace it.

Returning his sight to her true form, he watches her solid figure prancing about. Opposed to the dark shades of her shadow, that almost unbearably bright orange sweater she bears, one that could be spotted from quite a distance even in the depth of the night, swishes around, imitating traffic headlights on a nighttime highway. But as she approaches the far side of the roof, her body disappears from sight, leaving only a jack o'lantern clad torso floating in midair. With his hand raised, he tries to grasp the shape in his fingers, foolishly clawing at the cool autumn air. 

With a blink of his eye, she disappears. A small gasp escapes his lips as he bounds towards the ledge. From high above the ground, he searches for her figure, frightened by what may have happened to his new love, this woman who has challenged him, opened his eyes to a new world. To his momentary relief, she is nowhere to be seen. In that case, where has she gone? Has hysteria from the sake set in? Or is he under the spell of demonic yokai? Fear returns to devour him as he finds himself frozen in place.

Suddenly, she calls to him in a slight whisper. He responds, turning to his right. She has apparently been standing adjacent to him this whole time. Sensing his discomfort, she lays her hand upon his cheek and caresses his shivering shoulders. Despite the darkness, her eyes shine bright. "How upset I've made you. How drunk we have both become. Come, dance with me again. We will feel better." Moving about in strange shapes with her body once again, she encourages him to do the same. Mimicking each other, testing the limits of their bodies in this game, time slips. How long have they been in this haze: has he been in that haze. For if she is a yokai, it would explain the trance that has befallen him. Dare not he say it. This is not merely the drunken stupor of sake! This orange blur, this is no pumpkin! No yokai! For it is that of a fox! In the cover of darkness, there is no way of making out her tails.

The dance ceases, she moves in to grasp him in a full loving embrace. For a moment, these thoughts are quelled and he becomes entranced by the sweetness of her aroma. Her lips move to his ear. "Can you accept all of me?" she inquires. They begin swaying once again, in a slow consistent rhythm. "Yes", he replies. For a moment he is confident of her intentions, even as his true consciousness immediately screams out in rebellion, but he is too far of hearing. "Enter my world". She locks her arms around him and softly pushes him forward. Across the roof, on the other side, he sees the slender figure of his woman in the orange sweater. As if in response to his shock, she meekly waves as he and the body attached to him extend their steps into the darkness of the night. Looking down, he peers into the eyes of none other than her shadow. In a moment, the air gushes forth around them, swallowing them whole as they fall towards the security of the solid earth.