Paul sat with his back to the mossy wall… at least, he thought it probably had been a wall a few centuries ago, but now it was a more-or-less straight line of haphazardly piled stones covered in moss, with a few remaining on top of one another. Still, as an archaeologist friend of his had said once, one stone is just a stone, two stones is a feature and three stones is a wall.
Paul wondered about it though.. outside of the temple walls, he’d hardly examined the mountain he’d inherited. The dense bamboo forest didn’t really lend itself to idle exploration. But still… He recalled Shoko saying, way back when he’d first met her, that she lived some distance away in the forest… and yet, in all the weeks since, he’d never investigated it, never even asked. Now that he thought of it, he wondered what her place was like?
Paul sighed. He was procrastinating again, distracting himself, as he did sometimes when faced with something he didn’t really want to think about.
The truth was… he really wished Inari and the rest of what he’d come to think of as his family, hadn’t latched onto the idea of celebrating Christmas, or Kurisumasu. Not that he was against it, as such.. but he never enjoyed this time of year.
He was no Scrooge, spitting ‘Bah! Humbug!’ at all and sundry… but he just did not like the forced merriment and false jolliness or the sense that one was obligated to enjoy all the decorations and hoopla of the traditional festive cheer... or else.
Most years he’d rented a cabin or hotel room some place far away from the bustle, and spent most of December purposely avoiding looking at a calendar, usually writing or reading. The year before this one, he’d stayed at a converted bothy in the Highlands of Scotland, from the first of December through to the end of January. He’d brought enough supplies with him for the entire stay, and he’d literally seen no-one else the whole time. He’d only known it was time to leave when the porridge oats had run out.
Now, here he was… centre stage of a small community full of people expecting him to throw himself into celebrating the festive season, because he was English, and it was a holiday tradition they associated with Western culture.
The devil of it was, he really didn’t have the heart to say anything either, because they all seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely.
Inari had been singing Christmas carols, badly, while weaving garlands. The three young witches that had somehow ended up as his apprentices for now, had been laughing and playing around as they copied and assembled the design for the foxfire lanterns that he’d finally gotten to work. Shoko, Aimi-chan and Jaio were, last he saw, scrambling up and down the tree, hanging ornaments they’d made from scraps and bits and pieces.. Aimi-chan had found online a whole slew of videos on how to make your own home-made decorations.
Shoko would likely have a permanently sparkly tail well into the new year.. PVA glue, glitter and fur were not a good combination.
Although, it wasn’t as bad as what happened to Aimi-chan. Paul snorted.. who knew glitter and ghostly ectoplasm would mix like that? Aimi-chan now sparkled all the way through. It reminded Paul a bit of the transporter effect from Star Trek, at the roughly half-way stage when the person was a ghostly outline full of twinkling points of light. It didn’t seem to be causing her any discomfort, if anything, she seemed to be in high spirits. Briefly he wondered if ghosts could get high off things living people couldn’t, like glitter perhaps.
Even Kiko had thrown herself into the task of playing Santa-san’s helper.. she’d trimmed the red skirt of her miko robes with white fake fur, found herself a santa hat and a red & white striped candy cane pen, and had set to work with lists and a clipboard. Even her glasses had a tiny sprig of fake holly on them. The JSDF had arrived in a convoy that afternoon, and formed a human chain up the steps, transferring donated presents up from the trucks to be stacked under the tree, prior to distribution by messenger fox.
They had worn pointed green hats, which looked somehow fitting with their uniforms.
It was all so very merry and Christmas-y that Paul had felt a strong desire to be somewhere else...anywhere else… and so he’d ended up deep in the forest, up high enough that he was beyond where the bamboo grew and into the pine trees.
Paul sighed, he really didn’t want to be a grinch.. but he’d had enough, and rather than snapping at someone, he’d taken himself off to be by himself.
Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the ancient wall, and just listened… letting his mind drift and his thoughts quieten into formlessness, until he was no longer doing, or thinking, but he was just present in the moment.
How long he was like that he had no idea, which was rather the point, but gradually he became aware of something niggling at the edge of his awareness, like the tentative nibble of a fish on a line. Without moving a muscle Paul came to full alertness, focusing on what it was that caught his attention.
After a moment he inwardly sighed, and then barely even moving his lips he spoke gently.
“I know you’re there and I mean you no harm. Why don’t you come out and say hello properly?”
There was the faintest whisper of sound, an almost silent rustle, with hesitant pauses in between, of someone walking as silently as possible over the thick spongy mat of pine needles that carpeted the forest floor at this altitude.
Paul estimated that the person, although he wasn’t entirely sure there was only one set of footfalls, was standing directly in front of him, no closer than ten or twelve feet away. Cautiously he opened his eyes just the barest sliver, just enough to see out of.
At first sight, he thought it was a deer, snow white, with a delicate dappling pattern of golden fawn coloured patches like evening sunlight falling through tree branches upon new snow.
Then she folded her arms across her chest, just under the small mounds of high conical breasts.
Paul’s eyes open wide in surprise, causing the Kirin to snort and take a step back, stamping in alarm.
“Easy… I mean you no harm, really. I’m Paul, Inari’s Herald.”
The Kirin paused, regarding him out of eyes the colour of the sky on a cloudless winter’s day. She tilted her head, her silver white hair tumbling like a waterfall of silk, glinting gold as it caught the late afternoon sunlight.
Paul regarded her in return. She was approximately centaur shaped; from roughly the waist down she had the legs and body of a deer. Her torso was human, more or less, although her forearms sported a fine pelt matching the deer half of her body. Her face was elongated around the nose and mouth, suggesting a muzzle with widely spaced nostrils and a pale pink nose pad like a deer. Her ears were large, and also deer shaped, and highly mobile, Paul noticed, swivelling to pinpoint the slightest sound. From her forehead sprang a single deer-like antler, curving upwards and backwards, with small side branches jutting up like twigs on a bare winter’s tree branch.
The Kirin snorted, sidling, and Paul’s eyebrows rose as he caught sight of her back… a thick mane of stiffly upright silver hair ran down the human-like spine and along the deer-like lower back terminating in a tuft at the end of a tail that was long and more cow-like than the small bob a deer normally would have. What caused his surprise however, was the subtle shimmer of silver gilt scales to either side of the mane, somewhat resembling an over-sized koi-carp’s scales.
Paul could well understand why Kirin were described as chimeric, related to deer, unicorns and dragons.
The Kirin settled down, still standing with hooves splayed, ready to run. She huffed and regarded Paul warily.
“I know who you are human.”
“Ah, well that saves time.”
“I know what you are too. I don’t know why you are here though. Why did you come out here, and wait for me?”
“Why did I do what now? I was just looking for some peace and quiet, away from the bustle.”
The Kirin froze, looking at him, ears back and her eyes wide.
“You.. you’re not here to talk to me?!”
“Well, I wasn’t, but now you’re here. Hi there…”
The Kirin made a small sound, sort of a whinny, which after a moment Paul realised was her version of laughter. He chuckled as well.
“So, why come here to my temple, Inari’s Herald?”
Paul glanced behind him to the tumble down ruin, then back at the Kirin.
“This is your temple?!”
She hung her head, scuffling the pine needles with a fore-hoof.
“It was… I never wanted a temple anyway. The forest is my temple. The mountain is my altar.”
“You and Joyce Kilmer, ah, never mind you wouldn’t..”
“I think I shall never see, a poem as lovely as a tree.”
“Oh! Ah.. well that’s what I get for making assumptions.”
“The old priest used to come here and share poems with me. That one is my favourite.”
“That figures, so… what should I call you?”
The Kirin shook her head.
“I have no name, I’ve never needed one. Why would I? There is only me...”
“Point… if you’re the only one of your kind I guess it does make it a bit easier. Lonely though..”
The Kirin shrugged.
“I have never needed companionship before. But then, I am never truly alone… I sense everyone on my lands, and everything that they do.”
Paul looked thoughtful, tilting his head to study the Kirin..
“Hold on a minute… are you the mountain’s spirit?”
“Yes, among other things. Did no-one tell you I was here?”
“Nope.. I mean, yes they mentioned you existed, but apart from that, no details. But then it has been a bit busy of late, so I suppose they can be forgiven.”
“It has been rather more interesting than usual, yes.”
Paul grinned.
“One way of putting it...Um, forgive me for asking, but you’re a spirit, presumably you can manifest as anything right? So.. why that shape?”
The Kirin shrugged.
“I was as you see me, once, long ago. I died here, and my spirit became one with the land. I.. I suppose it’s out of nostalgia, or a habit really.”
“Ah, I see. That makes sense. Although I did wonder. I mean, it’s a distinctive and quite beautiful ‘look’, which are both good reasons to choose it.”
The Kirin’s cheeks flushed a pale pink as she ducked her head, hiding her face.
“Th..thank you.. although you flatter me.”
Paul shrugged.
“Just saying how I see it. Although it figures, this is a beautiful place… how could it’s spirit be anything less than sublime in appearance?”
The Kirin made a small noise, a sort of strangled squeak, as her ear-tips flamed scarlet.
“S..stop.. you’re embarrassing me!”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“My apologies mistress Kirin… how might I make amends? If I had a brush and comb I could offer to braid your hair if you wished..”
If anything, her blush deepened.
“I..I.. ah! I’d like that but not now! M..maybe another time!”
“As you wish. What would you like now?”
“Um.. ah.. perhaps.. you could tell me why you came out here?”
“Don’t you know already?”
The Kirin shook her head, tossing her long silver locks about, setting it drifting like gossamer on a summer’s breeze.
“Ah, no… I’m aware of where everyone is, and most of what they say and do.. but I don’t always pay attention, and I certainly don’t know what they’re thinking. So, I knew you were here, but not why.”
“Ah, I see… well, not much to tell. Christmas has never really been my favourite time of the year. The family I grew up in celebrated it as if we were duty-bound to.. everything had to be perfect. So, I’ve sort of avoided it ever since, and yet, now I’m supposed to be all about it just because I’m British and we in the West kind of invented the modern idea of what Christmas is. It just got a bit overwhelming really. So rather than start snapping at people, I took myself off.”
“Oh! Oh dear. You were seeking solitude and I interrupted.. I’m sorry!”
“Well, I’m sorry I gave you cause to think I was out here seeking an audience with you, so you put in an unnecessary appearance… I guess we’re even?”
“Hm, I suppose, yes.”
Paul grinned.
“Still, a pleasure to meet you all the same!”
The Kirin nodded gravely, recovering some of her composure.
“Also, I am glad to meet the Herald of Inari.”
“Please, call me Paul. I’m not much of a one for formality.”
“Paul-san then.. as I gather most call you.”
Paul nodded, thinking of Shoko-san when he’d first met her, and he’d first heard her call him that. Which lead to the events of the past few months flashing through his mind… causing him to draw in a deep, somewhat shaky, breath.
“Are you well Paul-san?”
“Sure, I’m fine.”
“Your hands are shaking.”
Paul glanced down, and wrapped his hands around his knees.
“Ok.. maybe not entirely. It’s just.. well, a lot’s happened in a very short space of time and it’s kind of thrown most of what I thought I knew about how the world worked right out the window… and I just now realised that, so… no, I’m not fine, but it’ll pass.”
The Kirin studied him for a moment, then slowly walked over to where he sat against the tumbled-down wall, and carefully lowered herself to the ground alongside him. Paul held his breath subconsciously scared he’d frighten her off.
“Lean against me, human.. if you wish.”
“You sure? I mean… you seemed pretty wary...”
The Kirin snorted at him.
“Humans, mortals, were often a threat to me. You however, are not at all threatening at the moment. You’re alone, scared, and unhappy. You more resemble a lost child right now. But then, mortals are all like children to me.”
The corner of Paul’s mouth twitched upwards.
“Thanks, I think…”
Paul sighed, and leaned against the Kirin’s warm flanks, finding the texture more like plush velvet than hair or fur.
“Not that I’m disagreeing though. I’ve been surfing the wave...ah.. clinging to the back of a wild horse, for a while now and I guess it’s finally caught up with me.”
The Kirin snorted again, a soft chuff of breath, warm and fragrant of flowers and green grass.. and shook her head. Her long silver gilt hair brushing against Paul’s cheek felt like the breath of a breeze more than something physical. Paul sighed.
“And I should stop talking, shouldn’t I?”
“First sensible thing you’ve said so far.”
Paul chuckled, and shifting his position curled up against the Kirin, resting his head against her side.
“Hoi… If I fall asleep, you’re not going to vanish are you, or turn into a statue or something?”
“I’ll stay. Now rest. You’ve done much, and come far. You’ve earned a moments respite, and this mountain has ever offered solace and a place to rest to those travel-weary and troubled souls that find it.”
“That would explain a lot… took me awhile to recognise it, but the whole mountain feels like home, or how I imagined that would feel, right from day one.”
“Hm. Paul-san...”
“I know. Shutting up.”
The Kirin’s silence had a distinctly amused air to it. Paul sighed, and closed his eyes, thinking to himself that a nap probably wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t that cold and he was well wrapped up, and besides, the Kirin’s flanks were warm even if, technically, she was a spirit and not really real.
After a short while Paul drowsed off, lulled into sleep by the sense of quiet contentment and the rhythmic breathing of the Kirin under his head. While he slept the air lost it’s damp chill, and out of the grey leaden sky, snowflakes drifted down. Fine like powdered sugar at first, but quickly turning into a steady fall, like large soft white owl’s feathers drifting in the air, piling up over everything, burying the forest in a pristine blanket. The Kirin glanced upwards, and wove a fine net of magic around herself and her sleeping charge, turning aside the cold and the snowfall.
Above, the sky turned from silvery grey to dark lead and finally black as the unseen sun slipped below the horizon. Finally Paul stretched, yawning...and then stopped as his boots encountered the soft resistance of the snow ringing them.
Lifting his head he looked around, and swore slightly.
“Dammit! Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You needed the rest. Why should I wake you?”
“Well, quite apart from not freezing to death in my sleep, now it’s dark and the path is buried in snow. I doubt I can find my way back to the temple.”
The Kirin looked at him, a look of amusement evident despite her not-quite human features.
“As if I’d let harm befall you, do you feel cold at all?”
“Ah.. no..now that you mention it. Sorry, I’m not used to magic still. I apologise. Although, I still need to get back.”
“Oh well, if that’s all that bothers you.”
The Kirin lifted her head, and called, a low hooting sound that seemed incongruous coming from her. After a moment, as stared off into the darkness, Paul could make out a shadow among trees, one that paused at the edge of the clearing.
“Kotan Kor Kamuy will guide you back to your friends, who have noticed your absence and are looking for you.”
“Ah, thank you again. For everything. I think my head is clearer now too...”
The Kirin stood slowly, as Paul did, and bowed to him, which Paul returned.
“You are most welcome Paul-san, you are taking good care of my mountain, and of my daughter Inari.”
Paul blinked.
“Wait… Inari is your daughter?!”
The Kirin smiled softly and nodded.
“She is indeed, although it’s been so long I think she’s forgotten. Now.. best be on your way young one, your friends grow worried.”
Paul, recognising a dismissal, started to turn to go, only to stop as a thought struck him.
“Excuse me, one last thing… if I need to talk to you again, how might I get your attention?”
“Oh, that is the easiest thing, just ask. I always know what is said and done here. I am the mountain, the forest, the rushing waters and the hidden still places within the ground.”
“Oh, of course… well, again, thank you.”
“No Paul-san, thank you.”
Paul glanced back once over his shoulder, as he walked to where the caped figure stood among the trees, but of the Kirin there was no sign, not even the gap in the snow cover where she’d sheltered them.
As he grew closer, Paul realised that what he’d taken as a person wearing a cape, wasn’t. What stood there was a large owl, its wings suggesting a cape, the outline of its head resembling a hood. It stood about four feet tall, regarding Paul from large unblinking eyes, making Paul feel uncomfortably like a mouse.
“Well, shall we be off?”
“Hooroo.”
“Right. Lead on then.”
The owl hopped, leading the way… and as Paul noticed that the space between the trees in this direction seemed to be a bit wider, hinting at a path under the snow, it flapped its great wings, and took to the air, skimming silently over the ground.
Paul hurried, hoping not lose sight of the owl, but he needn’t have worried. The owl only went a few metres before alighting again, waiting for him to catch up.
Paul studied it as he waded through the snow; it was grey, with streak marks making it blend in with the tree trunks, although its underside was a creamy grey-ish colour, a few shades paler than the lighter streaks among its flight feathers, and dotted sparely with brown streaks.
Paul was no ornithologist, but aside from the size, he guessed the owl was a Tawny or brown owl, common across most of Britain, Europe and Asia. He could probably have found it’s cousins nesting in Hyde park if he’d ever looked.
The owl hooted at him, as it waited some distance off, a distinctive and much imitated; “Hoohoo.”
“Ok, ok, coming… say, you’re a Tawny owl, right?”
The owl, Kotan Kor Kamuy the Kirin had called it, preened itself. Paul got the definite impression it was pleased at being recognised. He frowned a little, dredging up a faint memory.
“Hmm.. if I recall correctly, aren’t you sometimes called Cikap Kamuy?”
“HoHoo!”
The owl seemed to nod, before it flapped its wide wings and flew off a short distance, perching on a half fallen tree that leaned at an angle, propped up against one of its fellows.
“Ah, thank you for helping me, Honoured Kami.”
The owl hooted softly, and dipped it’s head, slowly blinking as if to say ‘don’t mention it.’
“Although, if I recall correctly, you’re a Kami of material success and order… should I take this as good omen?”
The great owl fluffed itself, individual feathers rising and falling as it gave itself a slight shake, before tilting it’s head almost entirely on one side, regarding Paul.
“Or are you doing this as a favour to the Kirin, and anything else is extra?”
The owl swivelled its head level and nodded, slowly blinking one eye after the other. As he drew level with it, it sidled down the tree-trunk until its head was level with his, and leaned forward, nibbling at his hair gently with its beak. Paul stood carefully still, a normal owl was capable of snipping off a finger neatly with its beak. However, Cikap was careful to only gently preen his tousled black hair, before it sidled back up and flew off again.
Paul got the definite impression he’d just had his head patted, and his hair ruffled indulgently.
In this way, Paul slogged through the snow. He hadn’t thought he’d walked that far on the way here, but now it seemed to take ages walking back, following the Owl god. He scowled as they crossed a small bridge over a flowing stream, that he definitely did not remember.
“Are you leading me back by a different path for a reason?”
“Hoo?”
“Yes, I am sure. I always remember where I’ve been, and this is not the path I took here.”
“Hooroo!”
Paul sighed.
“Well, whatever. Long way around it is.. I certainly don’t want to try back tracking.”
“Hoo..hooo!”
“Fine, lead on. I’m sure you have a good reason, whatever it is.”
“Hoo!”
Cikap ruffled his feathers, and flew off, although perhaps not quite as far as before. Paul trudged along after the owl Kami.
Rounding a bend in the path, he spotted a light below, a warm golden spark some distance off, that bobbed and swayed. He blinked, then grinned, and looked up at the rather smug looking owl.
“Alright. I get it. You weren’t leading me to a where, but to a whom. Sorry for doubting you, however briefly. Thank you very much. I think I can manage now.”
The owl bobbed its head, and hooted softly once before flying off back the way they’d come. Paul hurried forwards, towards what quickly resolved itself into a lantern on a stick carried by Inari.
“Hey Inari!”
“Paul!”
Inari rushed through the snow, her geta hardly leaving an impression as she ran over it. Paul had just enough time to realise her hair was once again the colour of ripe rice grains, and her snow-white fox tails were streaming in the air behind her, before she flung her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder and neck.
“Whoa, easy… careful with the lantern.”
“Oh bugger the lantern! I thought I’d lost you Paul!”
Paul hugged her, holding her tight.
“No chance Inari, I’m not that easy to kill. Besides, I had help. The local spirit and an owl as a guide.”
“Oh. Oh.. I’ve been an idiot, of course the local spirits would look after you! But I was so worried when there was no sign of you and snow started falling..oh...”
Paul stroked Inari’s hair as she cried, shuddering against him as her pent up tears came flooding out now that she had no need to hold them back.
“Shush, there, it’s ok now. I’m sorry to worry you so.”
“I..I searched and searched.. but there was no sense of you anywhere!”
“Wasn’t there? No wonder you were worried. Hmm, I think maybe I wandered into some sort of local pocket of magic that blocked you. Something the Kirin was hiding in perhaps.”
“Kirin? You.. saw a kirin?”
“Well..yes. Sort of. She said she was a spirit, the local genius loci… spirit of place, in fact.”
“But, she’s not a Kirin! She appears as a young girl, if she does.”
“Huh?! But then what did I meet?”
Inari drew back, her eyes wide.
“Oh… I know. Although I can hardly believe it. I mean, yes she’s a spirit of place...or places… of all Japan.”
“Oh! Um. Well now. Huh, I guess that’s why she said you were her daughter… born of the land so to speak.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.”
“Anyway, let’s head home now, before it starts snowing again.”
“As you wish Paul.”
Paul held Inari’s hand as they headed back. For long moments they said nothing, and then Paul sighed.
“Um.. Inari?”
“Yes..?”
“Ok, I know you’re not asking.. but I owe you an explanation as to why I went off by myself.”
“You owe me nothing Paul-san. If you don’t wish to speak of it, you need not. I’m just glad you came back.”
“Ah.. well I didn’t intend to be gone as long as I was either. I’m sorry for that. It’s just… well, Christmas has never really been a happy time of the year for me, and usually I just ignore it as much as possible. But, everyone seemed determined to enjoy it, and I didn’t want to spoil things, so I took a breather, and went for a walk.”
Inari stopped to look at him and sighed, shaking her head.
“Paul-san… this celebration is meant to be for you! If you rather we didn’t then..”
“No! No.. it’s… Look, I am enjoying watching everyone having fun. Shoko-san is a delight. Don't stop them on my behalf. But.. ah I dunno, bad memories and habits I guess.”
Inari looked thoughtful, then nodded once decisively.
“We are making new traditions. So, we’ll make one for you… if you need time alone or something, then you shall have it.”
Paul smiled.
“Ok… we can find a compromise I guess. I can always find something to do in my workshop I suppose. There’s toys to build for a start… and yeah, walks in the snow too. Remember when you asked if you could come with me? That’d be nice. I’m not saying I don’t want company... but quiet companionship would be far, far better and much appreciated.”
“Then that is what you shall have my Herald.”
Inari linked her arm through his, and rested her head on Paul’s shoulder, her hair shimmering softly with its own internal glow against the dark wool of his coat, like the harvest moon in the night sky. Paul smiled softly, and planted a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.
“Thank you for being understanding Inari. Even if you were purely mortal, you’d still be a goddess to me.”
Inari hugged him a bit tighter, not saying anything, letting her actions speak for her as they wound their way home.