by Phil Gabriel
The Haunted Onsen
A Tokyo Supernatural Tale
Phil Gabriel
To those who walk the streets of Tokyo, this most modern of cities, but still hear the whisper of spirits and feel the touch of magic
Text copyright © 2017 Phil Gabriel
All Rights Reserved
Cover Art by:
Runno
Created with Vellum
Foreword
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the stories of Scott, Kitty-Sue, Akiko, and the magical underworld of Tokyo.
This story is the second full length novel set in the Tokyo Supernatural world. The first book in the series, Mages in Manhattan, is available on Amazon.
The first short story, The Ghost in Roppongi Station, is available on Amazon, as well as on my website. I have several other shorts set in the same universe.
If this is your first look at this world, I did my best to make this a standalone novel.
To keep up with future updates, please subscribe to the Tokyo Supernatural newsletter.
Enjoy!
Phil Gabriel
1
Onryō Problems
The arrow released by the ghost samurai bowman hissed as it passed my left ear. I took a deep breath and slowed down time. The next arrow came towards my chest and would have pierced my heart if I had not sidestepped and turned. The third arrow floated towards my head. I reached up to grab the shaft, anxious to show my contempt for his weapon. I was surprised when the arrow sent a high-voltage shock through my hand and down my left side, before fading away. Shit, I’m supposed to be immune to shocks.
Now my left arm hung limply from my shoulder. Obviously, his arrows had something extra going for them. Keeping the speed increase, I decided that retreating was in order.
I backed up to the edge of the clearing as he tracked my movement with his nocked arrow. Damn, he was fast enough to track me even at my highest speed. Goddamn ghosts and their refusal to follow the laws of physics.
Upon reaching the edge of the clearing, but still inside the onsen’s wards, I quickly ducked behind a large cedar hoping to catch my breath and wake up my dormant arm. A few deep breaths, inhaling the aroma of cedar, helped immensely. I saw the spiny needles of cedar leaves hanging in the air, knocked from the tree by my passage. I let go of time, and the world sped up around me and the cedar needles dropped to the ground. As I started to feel pins and needles in my arm, I heard the voice of my ghost apprentice: “Scott-sensei, those arrows will go through the trees.”
Crap. I dropped quickly to the ground. Three ectoplasmic arrows flew through the tree in a vertical line. Head, heart, and balls would have been hit if not for the warning from Akiko. Lying on the ground, breathing deeply, I found myself nose-to-nose with a red-haired fox. The fox stared at me with her slit eyes, seeming to enjoy my discomfort. On her white chest fur was a heart-shaped patch of red fur. Around her neck was a small black leather collar embedded with jewels.
“Go find your own hiding place,” I whispered to the fox while scrambling backward on hands and knees. The fox scampered away, wagging her two tails.
Akiko wisely stayed invisible as I scrambled, still hampered by a weak arm, putting more distance between me and the bowman. After another dozen arrows had been sent my way, I muttered, “When is this asshole going to run out of arrows?”
“Scott-sensei, he has an inexhaustible supply of arrows,” said Akiko.
I could back beyond the onsen’s wards, preventing the samurai from attacking, but that wouldn’t help complete the mission. I did have a ward against ghosts that should also stop the fusillade of arrows, but it would require some preparation. At least he wasn’t coming into the forest after me, giving me time to recover and prepare for the next phase.
My mind flashed back to the call that had started this misadventure.
2
Call from Koji-san
One week earlier...
“Scott-san, I hope you are well,” he said when I answered my cell.
“Hello, Koji-san. I’m doing great,” I said. “How are you?”
“Scott-san, I would like to invite you to visit our onsen,” he said.
“I’m very busy here in Tokyo,” I replied. “I could probably come up in August.” August was three months away. Three months would allow me time to gather energy and work on my projects.
Magicians hate to travel; moving to a new area with different magical flows and fields requires time to adapt. Going to Hakone without storing up a lot of magical energy would leave me in a vulnerable state.
“August will be too late. I have a delicate problem that you might be able to help me with,” he said. “It has to do with an unruly guest. Could you please schedule a visit? Just as soon as possible? This guest needs to be evicted before June’s full moon.”
“Unruly guest” is a code phrase for a haunting. It still didn’t make sense; Koji was a magician. He should have been able to handle a minor ghost.
“It is a very busy time for me now, Koji-san,” I said. “It would take a lot to rearrange my schedule.” I wasn’t about to risk myself to do an exorcism, no matter how long we had known each other.
“Scott-san, I understand completely. As it happens, my family owns a parcel of land in Hakone. It has a natural hot spring and other qualities that you would appreciate. We are prepared to offer it to you in return for your assistance.”
The earth stores a lot of energy, both mundane and magical. Magical energy flows up from the center of the earth through places like hot springs. Energy flows in volcanic areas are so great that even an unattuned magician could replenish there.
What Koji was offering was essentially a gold mine. A gold mine that regenerated over time. Of course, he wouldn’t offer anything so valuable if the danger wasn’t great.
“I could rearrange my schedule and come up next Saturday,” I said. “We can discuss the details then.”
“Excellent, I will have your room reserved for Saturday. Do you prefer a Western-style room or a Japanese style?”
“How about one of each? I need a working space, as well as a resting area,” I said. “I will also have company.”
“The trickster kitsune?” he said. “I have heard that you have a new companion. Will the queen approve?”
There were already rumors about Kitty-Sue and me? Give a girl a few million dollars, and then stab her through the heart with a magical dagger, and suddenly everyone starts gossiping.
“The queen has voiced no objections to our relationship,” I said. Disapproving glances didn’t count as objections.
I could hear him tapping on a keyboard, moving reservations around, then he said, “Of course. I have two adjacent rooms reserved, one Japanese style and one Western style.”
“Great, Koji-san. See you on Saturday.”
I stepped out of my study, turned right in the hallway, and entered the kitchen/living room area. Kitty-Sue, my kitsune companion—OK, lover—was in front of the stove, preparing dinner. As usual when at home, she was dressed in a short yukata, blue with a pretty flower pattern. The yukata was so short that her twin bushy tails were free to swing back and forth as she danced to the music from the stereo as she cooked.
In fact, the yukata was so short I could see her panties, in a matching blue, as she moved.
She turned to me with a smile on her face, her pointed nose, slit-pupil eyes, and furry fox ears all indicating happiness. She sniffed the cooking food, then turned on the rice cooker before saying, “So, we’re going on a trip?”
Of course, she had heard every word; those furry ears were very sensitive. “Yes,” I said, “we’re going to Hakone.”
Her smile widened for a moment, then she frowned. “I thought you neede
d more time here in Tokyo to Zen out and absorb magic? After all the energy you expended at Christmas.”
“I should take more time,” I said, “but Koji-san has a deadline.”
“Isn’t it dangerous for you to do your hocus-pocus with your ‘tank’ empty?” she asked. “Isn’t that why the New York werewolves were almost able to kill you?”
“My ‘tank’ isn’t empty,” I said. Then, compelled to tell the truth, I added, “I’m about one-quarter full.”
She crossed her arms, which served to emphasize her breasts, and leaned her pretty butt against the counter. Raising one eyebrow, she asked, “So it is dangerous?”
Then she leaned forward with a look of concern. “You didn’t promise to do anything with the dragon, did you?”
“Dragon,” I said, “what dragon?”
With a look of surprise, she asked, “You don’t know about the dragon of Lake Ashi in Hakone?”
“There’s a dragon in Hakone?” I asked. My mouth was suddenly dry. I opened the cabinet and brought out a fresh bottle of Italian wine.
“Yes,” she said, “Kuzuryū Daimyōjin. The Nine-Headed Dragon. Very old, very dangerous. A famous priest fought and tamed the dragon over twelve hundred years ago and convinced him to stop demanding virgin sacrifices. The dragon has lived near Lake Ashi since, maintaining the lake at a constant temperature.”
As I poured wine into two glasses, I forced my hand to stop shaking. Dragons! Dragons were high-level magical entities. Some said they could tell the future. Even a “tame” dragon could screw up your life with a prophecy at the wrong time.
I handed one glass to Kitty-Sue, who took a ritual sip. She rarely drank more than a sip but said she enjoyed the smell and taste. After I had taken a slightly larger gulp from my glass, I said, “Virgin? I don’t think that will be a problem for me.”
Kitty-Sue snorted and said, “The dragon no longer demands virgins. The priest convinced him to start accepting gifts of rice and bean paste.”
“Well, there you go,” I said. “I’ll just stock up on snacks, and we’ll be all set.”
Kitty-Sue set her glass down and crossed her arms again. She was looking at me like I was missing the obvious. “So, Scott,” she said, “what would you do if someone showed up on your doorstep, carrying a purse made from a magician’s skin, who also had tattoos all over his body inked with magician’s blood?”
A chill ran down my spine and radiated out through the tattoos that ran down my arms. Invisible to the human eye until energized, these tattoos had been inked with the blood of a dragon. Dragon blood was the magical equivalent of a superconductor.
And my bag of tricks, a warped space container that could hold an enormous number of objects in its time-slowed interior. Yeah, that satchel had been crafted from dragonskin, using a unicorn horn for stitching and hair from a unicorn’s mane for thread.
“But those were gifts from a dragon,” I explained. “Given freely as part of a Deal. The skin was a millennial shedding, the blood she donated with no harm to herself. There’s absolutely no reason for the dragon of Lake Ashi to be angry.” I realized that my wine glass was empty. I poured another glass and offered to top off Kitty-Sue’s almost full glass.
With an angry snort, she shook her head at the offer of more wine. Then she said, “Even you must realize how bad a first impression that would give, right?”
“I can’t remove or disguise the tattoos,” I said, “not from a dragon. Leaving the satchel behind would leave me without my most potent weapons.” I took another drink of the wine. For some reason, it didn’t taste as good as good as I remembered.
Kitty-Sue stood with arms crossed, still as a predator, waiting for me to…? Oh! That’s how she looked when she wanted me to ask her advice.
“What do you think I should do?”
“Don’t go,” she said. “Put off this trip. Later, I can arrange for my aunt to make explanations for you and smooth the way before you go there.”
Yeah, but at what cost? The kitsune queen had been trying to trap me into her service since I had arrived in Tokyo. The price she would ask for this favor would be very high.
As I thought it through, I examined Kitty-Sue. The top of her yukata was open, baring the tops of her breasts. The only blemish on her shapeshifter’s skin was a small scar in the shape of a heart just to the left of the center of her chest. In the right light, I could sometimes see the outline of the hilt of the phantom dagger that had pierced her heart. The dagger that tied our lives together.
I was crazy enough to face down a dragon. Was I crazy enough to face down a dragon knowing that my death would also kill Kitty-Sue?
I reached out and touched the scar with the first two fingers of my right hand. Beneath the scar, I could feel her heartbeat, slightly elevated. She was really worried about the dragon. Asking for the kitsune queen’s help would not only be a leash on me; it would be an admission of a mistake on her part. Throwing her life and destiny in with a gaijin magician shown as a huge mistake.
“Let’s not ask for her help yet,” I said. “I can’t avoid this trip. I already promised Koji-san. Any other ideas?”
She took my hand in her two hands, pulled it to her mouth, and kissed my fingers. A thrill ran up my arm-- not magic, just the touch of a special woman. She turned away and took another tiny sip from her wineglass.
“The dragon is content with offerings of rice and bean paste,” she said. “But a higher quality gift might cool his rancor.”
“Better than beans and rice?” I asked. “I don’t have any virgins to sacrifice to him. And I wouldn’t, even if I thought it was possible.”
She gave me her “don’t be an idiot” look and said, “No, never. Don’t ever mention human sacrifices again.” She suppressed a shudder. “Dragons are known to prize rare elements and stones. What do you have to offer?”
The memory of my last encounter with a dragon flashed back. She had had a treasure trove composed of magical objects, precious stones, and gold ore.
“I have some gold,” I said. “Not many precious stones, but a quantity of gold.”
Her tails made that question mark shape, and she said, “Quantity? How large a quantity?”
I reached into my bag and pulled an extremely heavy item out. I had to hold it with two hands due to the weight. A pure gold ingot, 12.4 kilograms in weight. It gleamed under the overhead lights.
“Would one of these sate his appetite?” I asked.
“Oh, my,” said Kitty-Sue. “That’s beautiful.” Her eyes had an avaricious gleam, and she tracked the ingot with laser focus as I slid the bar back into the satchel.
With a sigh as the gold disappeared, Kitty-Sue continued, “OK, that might make the dragon more receptive. As long as you don’t get burned to a crisp as soon as he smells you.”
“So, that’s a good plan?” I asked.
“I estimate your odds as about fifty-fifty,” she said.
“No problem,” I said without thinking. “I’ve faced much worse odds before this.”
Her sharp look reminded me that I wasn’t just risking my own life. Her life, joined to mine through the phantom dagger, would end if my life ended.
I was saved as the rice cooker dinged, indicating the rice was ready.
Eager to change the subject, I asked, “Is Akiko joining us for dinner?”
“She said she would be here by five—” Kitty-Sue interrupted herself and pointed her sharp nose in the direction of the dining area. A few seconds later, I felt the psychic tug of our connection, and Akiko materialized. Kitty-Sue was always quicker than me to sense the presence of ghosts.
“Konnichiwa Kitty-Sue-san, Scott-sensei,” said the ghost.
She gave a short bow, her impeccable Japanese manners surviving even after her death. She wore her habitual outfit: the short tartan patterned skirt, white blouse with a colored ladies tie, and the blazer jacket combo of a Japanese high school student. A ribbon, color matched to her tie, adorned her hair. On her nose was perched a
set of red-framed eyeglasses. Although she still wore the uniform she had died in, she had matured a great deal, no longer the skinny teenager I had saved from an eternity of haunting.
Enormous breasts, unbound by physical laws, strained at her blouse. Her hips filled out the very short skirt nicely. When she bowed, the skirt rode up to reveal her panties. With all the forms she could have taken, she had chosen to morph into an anime schoolgirl fantasy figure.
“Kitty-Sue-san,” asked Akiko, “shall I prepare the table?”
“No,” Kitty-Sue and I said at the same time. Akiko was an enormously powerful magician, but her poltergeisting was erratic. The number of dishes I had had to replace due to her assistance was in the hundreds.
“I’ll take care of that,” I said. “That’s my job.” I gathered plates and utensils and set the dining room table, chopsticks for the girls, western flatware for me. I snagged another bottle of wine and clean glasses for everyone, even though I was the only one who drank with dinner. Wine for me, some Japanese fizzy drink for Kitty-Sue, and plain water for Akiko.
Akiko drifted closer to the steaming pots on the stove and inhaled deeply—the only time she had to breathe was to smell. “Smells great,” she said. “Don’t you think you should add—” Her voice cut off at the look Kitty-Sue sent her way. My cold-blooded kitsune assassin girlfriend was very possessive of her kitchen.
Backing away from the stove, Akiko came to join me at the table. She sat in her favorite chair, her body bobbing up and down slightly as she “sat.” At this distance, I saw that the patch on her jacket had changed again. As a magician apprentice, she had a habit of changing the emblem on the left breast of her jacket to a different, imaginary school of magic. She had made a game of making me guess which school was represented.