It's raining today in Japan. The rain is surprisingly dull here. It's monotonous; the rain just patters down with no hint of excitement. I came here to experience some kind of… something. I thought that maybe if I could just get out of sunny So Cal, I could find something more interesting for myself. But, so far, the only thing that seems remotely worthy of my time is the thing I brought with to this new place. That's right, my manga. I'm still finding it hard to enjoy anything else but the worlds I discover in mangas.

I originally figured I'd be in heaven: coming to Japan, being immersed in the place where most of my treasured manga came from. The only problem is that my Japanese isn't that great yet, so I can't understand the majority of what anyone is saying, let alone any of the writing.

Anyways, I think I'll take a break and at least try to enjoy the wet weather.

Signing off,

Rachel

Last posted at: 9:09 AM

Rachel clicked out of her blog and looked out at the gray clouds and dull sprinkle. She couldn't help wishing it would at least rain harder so it would be more interesting. Shutting off her laptop and stuffing her iPod in her pocket, she stood up from the bed mat she had been sitting on and hunted her heavy jacket out of her unpacked suitcase. She threw it on along with her beat up Converse and trudged down the stairs of the high school dorm and into the drizzle in the courtyard.

Usually Rachel liked the rain; today's light drops weren't doing it for her, though. The red-headed 16-year-old left the school grounds and started walking along the wet sidewalks of the foreign city. Her feet moved, seemingly of their own volition, down the familiar streets of previous walks. The skyscrapers and lofty apartment buildings seemed to fade into the gray of the sky and the cars in the streets were muted and slower. At least, Rachel thought, I have the freedom to walk around when I want to. Back home I doubt I would be allowed to go out into the rain like this.

She turned on her iPod and threw her hood over her head. Her feet led her down street after street through the drizzle and she hummed to the music and watched the sidewalk pass under her. Rachel found herself wandering down a small alleyway and emerged on an emptier street than she had ever seen during her week in Japan. It was still more congested than the streets on a rainy weekday in her hometown in California, but for a big Japanese city it was pretty slow.

Rachel began to realize that she didn't know where she was. The buildings she was walking next to were too tall to see around and she wasn't close enough to any street signs to read them, (not that she could anyways). She stopped walking and pulled the headphones out of her ears to get a feel of her surroundings. Her curiosity was captured as she realized what she had been walking next to.

It was a very peculiar house; a traditional Japanese-styled house sandwiched between two taller business buildings and surrounded by an old wooden fence. The fence's gate was supported by two large posts with a crescent moon resting on the top of each post. Rachel touched one of the posts gently and admired the ornate gate and decorations on the house.

She had already started walking towards the house before se consciously decided to. Her legs moved on their own, as if she meant to go there the whole time. Rachel was shocked at herself when she boldly entered without permission, but she realized she wasn't actually moving of her own accord.

"Wait, wha?..." she said, stunned as she kicked off her shoes and headed further into the house, unable to stop herself. She walked through open sliding paper doors to find a beautiful dark-haired woman lounging on a low couch. The couch had another crescent moon decorating it.

"Welcome," the woman said in Japanese. Her voice was rich and alluring and, truthfully, not what Rachel had expected. The woman was smoking from a slender, elegant-looking pipe, and the tendrils of smoke coming from the end of the pipe and the woman's lips hung hauntingly in the air. Rachel had never been one to approve of smoking, considering what it did to one's lungs.

Before she could summon a clumsy Japanese "Hello", the woman astonishingly began speaking in English.

"I am sorry my smoking bothers you. I understand you have come here to make a request."

Rachel took a step back in surprise and blushed as she realized she must have made some kind of face suggesting that she didn't like the smoke. "I-I'm sorry. I don't really know why I barged in here like this. I'll leave now," she stammered, turning to leave before she could embarrass herself further.

"There is no such thing as coincidence in this world," the woman replied calmly. "The only thing is hitsuzen."

Rachel stopped and turned back to face the mysterious lady. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her. "What's hitsuzen?" she asked, then mentally smacked herself in the forehead for being so blunt.

"It's like fate," the woman answered, "or destiny. It means that any other outcomes are impossible. That everything that happens, happens for a reason."

"What does that have to do with me?"

The woman took another draw from her pipe and exhaled it. "You came to ask me a question. And not about finding your way back to Cross Private School. If it was not hitsuzen that you would find me then it would not have happened."

Rachel blushed as she realized she had completely forgotten that she had been lost a few moments ago. But the moment of embarrassment was fleeting as it was replaced with uneasy mistrust. How exactly did this stranger know where she had come from?

Guardedly, Rachel asked, "What is this place?"

"A shop," the woman said as the smoke from her pipe wafted about the room. "A shop where wishes are granted. And you have a very heavy wish burdening you. To grant it will cost you very dearly."

"I don't have any mo-"

"I do not charge money. For this I would charge much more from you. Equal payment for equal services required. Otherwise there is a burden that is placed on the granter as well as the receiver of the wish."

Rachel was dumbstruck at the mysteriousness of the smoking woman. Not only did she not know what on earth the woman was talking about, she also didn't know what the lady was expecting of her. She didn't know what to say, but it became clear that she was slightly disturbed by their conversation.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled and let the silence hang in the air for a little longer before answering. "I am called by many names. Names have power. A person can know many things by knowing someone's name. You may call me Yûko. (Of course, that is an assumed name.)"

Yûko grinned mischieviously at Rachel as she said that, then she turned her attention to another sliding door and said in Japanese, "Watanuki! Go make us some lunch! Fin sake and…"

The rest of her order was too fast for Rachel to understand, and the angry reply of a teenage boy's voice startled her. The boy sounded just older than her. She didn't think that there would be anyone her age here. Rachel heard Watanuki mutter something about "in her clutches".

Yûko shot an annoyed look in the direction of the paper door before turning her attention back to her customer. Rachel was oddly comforted by the fact that someone close to her own age was here and she wasn't alone with this apparently crazy woman.

"Your name?"

"Huh?" Rachel blushed as she realized she must have been lost in her thoughts.

"What is your name?"

"Rachel."

"Rachel, huh? Where you are going it's not going to matter for a while, but after that it's perfect."

"And where exactly am I going?" Rachel was growing tired with this crazy lady's riddles.

Yûko took another puff of her pipe before answering, "What is it that you wish?"

"Yûko-san, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know what I can ask of you that you can possibly grant for me. I don't have much to pay you with, even if you did accept money. I don't know what you expect of me."

Rachel stared at Yûko as the woman took another puff from her pipe. The smoke from it was beginning to irritate Rachel and she coughed quietly, breaking the moment of silence. Yûko put down her pipe and stood. She was a rather tall woman and her long, black hair draped loosely around her. The rings of smoke surrounding her seemed to follow her as she approached Rachel. Long, slender fingers slid under Rachel's chin and gently forced her to look into Yûko's eyes.

"What I expect of you does not matter. Only what you expect of yourself. You came to Japan seeking travel and new things to surround you. You came looking for something new because you don't know what you want. You think that experiencing things that are different will make you happy, but there is only you. Outside forces do not matter. You must decide for yourself what you want and what will make you happy. Not because it's what your parents want, not because change would be good for you, but because it is what you want. Only you can decide what makes you happy."

Yûko guided Rachel to the couch and sat her down, holding her shoulders as she stood over her. Rachel stared in bewilderment at her as she tried to process what she had just been told. How did Yûko know so much about her? And to lay it all out at once like that?

"You must decide what is best for you. It may be upsetting to those who care about you, and you may lose those whom you considered close, but it will be what is best for you."

Yûko sat herself down and picked up her pipe again. Rachel concentrated on her hands in her lap, desperately trying to make sense of what that woman wanted her to do. Yûko said that only she could decide what was best for herself and that outside forces didn't matter. But what did that mean?

"In the meantime, you should eat something. One shouldn't think on an empty stomach," said Yûko, just as Watanuki was coming back into the room with two bento boxes and a big bottle of what looked like sake.

"You didn't have any sea breem or fin," he told Yûko, clearly irritated.

"No matter. Thank you, Watanuki."

Watanuki took a long look at Rachel, who was too distracted to notice, before he went back to the kitchen.

"Maru, Moro," Yûko called, "go get that thing and bring it out when I tell you to."

Two little girls' voices responded in unison from behind the paper door. "Okay!"

Rachel stared at the bento box, still bent in thought, and mechanically picked it up. She began eating it without really tasting the food, a million thoughts still buzzing in her head. The food was very good and she found that Yûko was right: it did help to have food in your stomach when thinking.

Close to a half an hour passed with no sound but chewing and Yûko's long exhalations of smoke. Rachel finished her bento box and looked at Yûko, wondering if she should say something. Yûko, however, was the first to break the silence.

"Rachel. Have you decided what you want?"

In reality, Rachel knew exactly what she wanted, now that Yûko had helped her clear her thoughts. The problem was, she couldn't dare ask for it.

"I don't think it's something you can actually grant—this particular wish," she began.

Yûko stayed silent—expectant. It was at that moment that Rachel realized something. Sometimes, when someone offers you something, they actually can give it to you. Maybe all that's needed is for you to take that chance. And, sometimes it's good to at least just tell someone about what you want.

"I want," Rachel paused, not sure if she could say it, then continued in a rush, "Maybe it's not that I want my surroundings to change, but myself. I want to be more exciting and interesting. Something other than the norm. I'm restless with myself and I'm dying for change."

"Is that what you wish then?" Yûko asked. "To be different?"

Rachel took a deep breath, putting as much resolve into her bearing as she could. Then she looked Yûko directly in the eye.

"Yes."