The hours after Misha’s disappearance passed in a blur. Only stopping to confirm that Yui’s injuries were not severe—she was breathing and the cuts on her head were shallow—Jiro fell into a deep sleep. When he woke he was in his bedroom with sunlight streaming through his window. Instead of on a pillow, his head rested on Kaori’s lap.

“Good evening sleepyhead,” said Kaori, looking down at him. “You’ve been sleeping all day. My legs have gone numb.” She shifted Jiro’s head off of her lap and onto the futon, earning a sneeze when her fingers brushed his ear.

“Is Yui okay?” croaked Jiro.

Kaori motioned to Jiro’s other side. Yui was laying there with her eyes closed. Her hair was still braided, and she was breathing softly. The look on her face was one of peace.

“We had her in a different room at first. But she woke one time in the night. She said she wanted to sleep next to you, to make sure you were okay. Yui’s hard on herself, you know. She was probably frustrated that she let a spirit take control of her again. And in a way that was so dangerous to you.”

Jiro let out a slow breath. “Well, it was no ordinary spirit.”

Kaori chuckled. “No, she was not. Jiro, I think it’s official. You have terrible taste in women.”

Jiro smiled weakly, then met Kaori’s eyes. “Misha … did she … you know.” He trailed off.

“Suffer at the end? No, I don’t think so.”

They were silent for a time.

“Kaori … did I … did we …”

“She would have suffered much more had she remained in this world, Jiro. It was painful, but you did the right thing.”

The door slid open.

“Oh you’re awake.” It was Sumire. She had changed out of her priestess robes and now she was dressed similarly to Kaori, in a Japanese-style kimono. “You’re lucky we found you when we did, Jiro. That spirit was very far gone. Any more and she would have lost all traces of rationality. Convinced that you and she were making love, she would probably have torn you apart with her fingernails, flaying off your skin and then tearing you apart until you were only bits of flesh and bone.”

“Mom … that’s too graphic.”

Jiro shuddered.

“It was clever of you,” said Kaori. “To throw the pencil over the veranda. And then leave a saliva trail. It was like something out of a fairy tale legend.”

“It was more out of desperation than anything …” Jiro looked at the mother and daughter. “But how did you know to come here? How did you know where Misha would take me?”

“We didn’t. We followed her.”

“What?”

Kaori shifted around Jiro until she was by Yui’s side. She gently pulled up Yui’s blanket, revealing one pale, porcelain foot. Around the ankle was a bracelet. Each link was made of wood and inscribed with characters Jiro did not recognize.

“An ankle bracelet?”

“I made it for her,” said Sumire, “when she was a little girl. There were several times when Yui, possessed by a spirit, ran off and started causing trouble around the peninsula. So I came up with this tracking device. We were lucky that she happened to have it on.”

“After that,” said Kaori, “it was only a matter of getting down the hill to the main road. After Masa’s cut stopped bleeding, we decided to leave him in the shrine and chase after you.”

“How did you get down? Don’t tell me you flew by broomstick?”

Kaori chuckled. “We’re priestesses Jiro, not witches. We didn’t fly. We went down the old-fashioned way. I would show you my feet, but I know they would disappoint you. They’re covered in sores.”

“When we got down to the main road,” said Sumire. “It was a simple matter of hitchhiking in the direction of the ankle bracelet.”

“Wait … so I didn’t even need to leave a saliva trail?” Jiro groaned. “All that effort wasted.”

“In retrospect, it’s all quite funny. You, kidnapped by a little girl, desperately leaving a trail of saliva behind her back. Who would have thought one man could have that much liquid inside of him.”

Jiro smiled but inwardly he still felt weak, fatigued. For the first time in his life he’d done something to get over Misha, to move on from the past. But he would be feeling the aftereffects of this decision for some time.

There was another knock on the door. Sheena and Tae entered, followed by Ken. They looked beaten up and tired, but at the sight of Jiro their expressions brightened.

“Aya, is she okay?” Jiro sat up suddenly and then winced, several of his ribs were bruised. His tongue throbbed painfully from where Misha had bitten him.

“She’s fine kid,” said Ken. “One of the Spirit Council members pulled some strings with the police. That, plus some evidence, was enough to convince her that the assassination attempts were not Aya’s doing.

“Evidence?”

“There was video footage of her in Sochi Bay.” He narrowed his eyes, stretching out the scar on his face. “She was with you. In a shopping mall. Doing some things with her skirt …”

Jiro cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Now, now,” said Sheena, patting Ken on the shoulder with a blue scaly hand. “Let’s let the kid recover before we break him to pieces again.” She turned to Jiro and hissed a laugh. “Who would have thought a simple assassination would end up in something like this? You’re an interesting human, Jiro.”

“Assassination?” said Ken. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, it’s nothing that concerns you.” Sheena patted Ken affectionately on the shoulder and then made a signal to Tae. The furry kaiju pulled out an envelope and tossed it by Jiro’s head.

“A letter …?” Jiro looked at the trio in confusion.

“With a proprietor like you,” said Sheena. “I think things might finally start getting interesting around here again.”

“Huh?”

“Jiro,” said Kaori with an amused look. “It’s not a letter. It’s a check. Sheena’s agreed to give you the loan.”

His eyes widened. “You … this … but …”

Sheena laughed again. “Kaori, it looks like you’ll have to train Jiro in his public speaking ability. Plus about a thousand other things.” She sighed dramatically. “I suppose I won’t be getting my money back anytime soon.”

Jiro laid back on the futon and stared up at the ceiling. Just hours before, it had felt like the end of all things. But now here he was, with a new start, a new beginning. The new beginning was not with Misha but with these people. His friends. His coworkers. People he could trust and believe in.

Next to him, Yui muttered something in her sleep and smacked her lips. The air smelt of chestnut and lavender.

“So boss?” said Kaori with a smile. “What’s your next call? How will you make the bathhouse great again?”