originating from Kamo River.

Traditional and timeless, the outside world seemed to fade away as the two walked down the well-trodden roads, exclusive to man and animal alike.

"Sora, look at that."

Sora heard rustling at first. Fabric against fabric. Followed by the click-clack of wooden sandals against stone. Slowly, he turned to meet the most beautiful human he had ever seen.

At least, he believed she was human, but she could very well be something else entirely. Her face obscured by a white veil. Her body enveloped by an exquisite kimono adorned with sakura blossoms, fluttering in the wind like a butterfly. Only her hands were exposed, pale and pristine and perfect, gripping a simple paper parasol that only multiplied her grace. Utterly enamoured, Sora couldn't take his eyes off her, only regaining his senses when she turned the corner. A fleeting visit from a goddess.

"You've never seen a geisha have you?"

"Not in person," Sora heaved, realising he had been holding his breath the whole encounter, "I've seen them on television. Also, I've seen them on the calendars that Ojisan buys. He always buys geisha-themed calendars."

"Hm, your Ojisan must have good taste."

Sora thought about Ojisan. The carefulness of his hands, the warmth of his lap, the infrequent thumps of his heart as Sora curled into his chest at night. Many evenings, dwindling away, doing nothing at all. They accompanied one another - the drone of television commercials and the rickety ceiling fan.

It wasn't much.

But it was so abundantly enough.

"Yeah, I think he does."

"That's lovely to hear. It reflects on you too."

Sora turned towards his still-mysterious companion. "What does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it."

***

Pillars and sunset. A warm golden glow. Orange hues filtered through the swaying stalks of bamboo. Slender shadows cast against the granular gravel, which crumpled and crunched beneath their footsteps.

The Arashiyama Bamboo Forest was a shutter of green, taller and further out than even Sora's keen eyes could see.

"It's... quiet."

Yori shrugged. "Hm, I wouldn't say that."

The birds may have been asleep, but the rustling leaves continued to sing their melody - cackling like a distant applause.

"You know what it is though? It's boring."

"I wouldn't call it..." Sora considered the thought - Nishiki Market was choked full of vendors and visitors and a multitude of tantalising tastes and twinges. The Gion District was a step back in time where Sora had met the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Arashiyama was an otherworldly place, but...

"...if something interesting was meant to happen. It should have happened by now." Yori argued with a sly, almost mischievous pout.

Sora couldn't help but notice how good the smirk looked on him - how wickedly fitting it was.

And in his brief moment of blank-mindedness, Yori nudged Sora's body with his long snout.

"Tag! You're it!"

Before Sora could say anything, Yori transformed into a crimson blur, darting through and across the valley of bamboos as if it were an obstacle course. "Wait!" Sora called out, noticing that his feet had also picked up in movement. Gale and debris brushed against his face as he too became a fast-moving buzz of fur, whether intended or not.

"That's not fair!" He cried out, thoroughly outclassed and partly jealous of Yori's natural agility and grace. If Yori was an arrow, Sora was a lobbed rock. Fast and true against inaccurate and clumsy. Fortunately though, rocks are exceedingly resilient things.

After a full minute of fearsome chase, Sora found himself at some kind of clearing. A circular, open-space away from the overgrown forest of bamboo. Judging from the lack of footsteps in the uncultured dirt, it wasn't a tourist area either. With no sense of where he came from, Sora realised he was cleanly and utterly lost.

Instead, what stood before him was a grandiose vermilion structure.

A torii gate, he thought, recognising its towering archway and slanted roof from pictures Ojisan used to show him. Like his encounter with the geisha, it was astoundingly more magical and majestic seeing it in person.

The gate was marked with numerous ema, small wooden plaques with wishes and prayers written by visitors to the shrine... but where was the shrine? A faint bout of incense seemed to drift towards him, as though inviting him, guiding him through the gate and into a sacred space beyond.

He approached. Nervously. Cautiously. As he passed through its imposing slats, the land itself seemed to creak and groan, as though awakening from a long slumber.

***

"Ohayou, Sora."

Raspy. Wise. A treble that was so excitedly familiar.

Sora was in a sprawling valley. Sakura petals danced in bloom. Freckles of pink against mountains of green. The air was warm and sweet-smelling, like freshly cooked dorayaki bundled in paper.

Ojisan.

He could sense his presence, but could not see him.

Ojisan's weathered voice echoed across the landscape as if it were an enclosed church.

"Thank you for being with me in my last moments."

Sora's mind was an ocean of sentences. He had so much to say and yet, as he dipped his paws in the proverbial water, clawing desperately for the words to come out - he found them empty, wet and wanting.

"You might not remember this, but I made a promise to you on the day we met."

You did?

"I knew that my days were limited. I knew that you would outlive me.

You... knew?

"And so I promised you, my little Sora-chan, to do everything I could to make sure you were cared for."

Suddenly, Sora's legs felt weak, as if they had turned to jelly. His balance off-centre and tipsy. This sakura-filled valley was not somewhere he was meant to be.

"Are you satisfied with your care, Sora? Did I do well?"

Yes! Of course! I'm indebted to you. I owe you everything. You are everything to me.

"I hope I did."

Please don't ask this, Ojisan. I know you care for me. You know I care for you. It's everything I have ever wanted and more.

"And I hope wherever you go, you'll be happy too. Happier even."

Consciousness, flickering like an old light bulb. Sora knew he didn't have much longer. He summoned all his strength. He wanted to say something! An expression of gratitude, a simple thank you, even just his master's name.

But all he could muster was a faint meow. Low in volume, but shrill and high-pitched. It was just enough to get Ojisan's attention. Sora could not see him, wherever he was, but sensed his head turning in his direction. His crumpled lips curling into a lovely, familiar smile.

***

By the time Sora regained his footing on reality, night had fallen like a blanket of snow. Thousands of stars populated the midnight blue sky, domineered by a crescent moon in a dress of clouds. Over the horizon, Sora could see gorgeous, wonderful Kyoto - modern towers and concrete dwellings punctuated by chiselled roofs and traditional pagodas.

A chill travelled through his bones. He realised he had to be quite high up to get this kind of view.

Around him, Sora noticed, was a massive array of torii gates, stretching further than even his sharpshooter eyes could see. Up to heaven. Down to earth. Gates upon gates upon gates - ad infinitum.

These torii were not as large as the one he originally walked through.

"Oh, a new friend."

A spotted cat was perched atop one of the shrines. It watched Sora expectantly with its glistening grey eyes. Composed and collected, if not a little disinterested.

"W-Where am I?"

"Fushimi Inari Shrine." It said matter-of-factly. "Kyoto, in case you came from elsewhere."

"What? How did I get here?" Sora shook his head, knowing for a fact that Arashiyama and Fushimi Inari were at least an hour's train away from one another.

The spotted cat shrugged. "Someone brought you here, surely. Do you remember a name?"

"Yeah, there was another cat - red fur, huge tail, eyes like gold. His name was..."

In the box where Sora kept his companion's name, the cat he had spent the last twelve hours exploring Kyoto with, was utterly and exceedingly empty.

The cat acknowledged his quiet surprise.

"Hm, that's kitsune for you. Don't worry mate, we're all the same."

"We?"

As if on queue, a dozen other cats walked out of hiding. They were all kinds of cats. Some skinny, some fat. Some plain, some striped. White and grey and brown and black.

None of them were red.

"What's your name?"

"Sora."

"Well Sora, I hope you find yourself comfortable here. Come, I'll show you around."

Sora nodded reluctantly. He breathed in the chilly musk of Fushimi Inari - soil and grass and medicine. He thought of his companion, but the memory seemed smudged and hazy, like an underdeveloped polaroid. He remembered his overt courageousness. He remembered his vermilion hide.

But most notably, he remembered that he seemed to know Sora's name before he mentioned it.