Japan was lovely in the springtime. Thousands of people flocked there every year, and for good reason. There are plenty of sights to see: mountains, forests, the famous and beautiful cherry blossom trees…when you visited Japan, you saw the traditional villages, the countryside, and the landscape.
Sonny Joon was not admiring any of these things. He had been stuck at a convention in downtown Kyoto for the past three days. He didn't really have an excuse for being there—did anyone need an excuse for traveling? Shouldn't they be able to move around their own planet at will? Even if he was a part of the Annunaki (just like Grandpa Jin had always told him), Sonny did feel quite partial to some places on Earth.
Perhaps it was all the new-age technology and colorful art here, but Sonny had been feeling especially inspired by his recent surroundings. What with all the flashing lights, crowded streets, and loud music, the city radiated energy. It was a perfect fit for someone like him, even though he knew that he wouldn't be able to stay there long. Perhaps someday he would return to this lively city.
His inspiration had hit him especially hard earlier that evening, when he hadnoticed that, while there were certainly people interested in extraterrestrial life, a lot of the focus seemed to be on the paranormal. Namely, ghosts and spirits.
He had heard bits and pieces of conversations from English-speaking tourists that there was a (supposedly) haunted ryokan in Misawa. Immediately, Sonny's mind started racing from one thought to the next. Shapes, music, ideas…they all zoomed through his mind, jumping tangentially from one to the next. He wasn't exactly sure if any of them were coherent, but there he stood: lost in thought.
He also had lost track of time. Snapping back into reality, he had stopped at the nearest coffee shop and pulled out his laptop.
After hearing all the hype, he had wanted to actually see the place for himself, but after looking up the word 'ryokan' on the Internet, he was disappointed to find out that it meant a traditional inn. He only had one more night in Japan before he was scheduled to fly to Germany for a job opportunity, so booking a reservation at the Ryokan Hiei wasn't possible.
Instead, he sat in a small pachinko parlor in Kure, which he had found after taking random train routes for forty-five minutes. Admittedly, he probably could have gotten there quicker had he looked at the map in more detail, but Sonny didn't do well with planning. He chose them based on color: favorite color to least favorite.
The parlor was empty, but Sonny noticed that the pachinko games were still running, along with the prize machine in the middle of the room. Inspecting the different prizes, he noticed an empty slot where someone had taken a prize at some point in time. The employees must have forgotten to put another prize in its place.
Sonny stood there, eyes trained at the empty compartment, while he thought about all the prizes that he would like to win, if he were a customer. Japan held some amazing toys and computers, but Sonny's real interest was comic books. Specifically, manga. He doodled constantly, whether it be on the train, at home, at work…it was as if he couldn't sit still. His hand would twitch, and even if he didn't have a pen or paper, he would trace shapes and letters on his thigh with his finger.
His actual drawings usually ended up being caricatures of his coworkers, or notes to help him remember the important things, such as where everything was located, how to complete certain tasks, etc. (He was a visual thinker, it turned out. Surprise, surprise.)
Tonight, however, he was in a different mood. Not only did he lack coworkers to make fun of, but he also couldn't concentrate on anything else besides ghost stories. Just like the stories of the Annunaki, the stories of ghosts and spirits played out in Sonny's head in a way that completely overwhelmed his thinking. There was nothing else to do except provide himself an outlet in which he could lay out these stories.
Sitting down in front of a pachinko machine, he moved the keyboard to the side and placed a small sketchbook on the table. Taking a pen from behind his ear, he began to draw the outline of a character that he had thought of at some point or another.
Sonny recalled a movie (or at least part of a movie) about ghost hunting. The idea hadn't really fascinated him at the time, mainly because the idea of "hunting" anything that has inherently had more experience in the natural world as not only a human, but a freaking ghost, seemed silly.
He smirked and continued to draw the young boy. Koji, he thought. Koji would be the reluctant ghost hunter, dragged into his own adventures by his companion. After all, what kid would want to go ghost hunting all by himself?
That being said, who would be his companion? Another kid seemed too boring, and Sonny frowned as he racked his brain for ideas.
Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and glanced up at the shiny glass in front of him. In it he could see his reflection, and his thoughts clicked as he noticed his current hair color: orange.
He drew the outline of the fox first, and then decided he would color it a fiery orange later. A fox was just the type of animal to convince the boy to go on his adventures: sly, cunning, and totally sassy. He admired at the duo and began to think of a name for this sidekick.
Kit. The Adventures of Koji and Kit.
Sonny smiled and pulled an assortment of colored pens (specifically bought for these sort of impromptu projects) out of his briefcase. He would be needing them for the cover, but for now he continued to draw pages of material.
He hunched over the table, working on getting whatever ideas came to mind onto the paper. His hand moved quickly and fluidly, creating scenes and dialogue; brow furrowed, glasses slipping slightly down his nose, he concentrated on getting all the details just right.
An artist's only goal is to get whatever is in his or her head onto their medium.
Hours had passed before Sonny had finally managed to finish the story, and all that was left was to place it in the prize machine. Eyes sore and stomach rumbling, he smiled to himself as he stood up from the table. His mind was on fire, but his steps were calm and measured as he placed the comic into the slot. The workers would figure out what to do with it later.
For now, he was acting on impulse. He was almost on some sort of high after finishing this story, and the only way he would ever get his mind to shut up would be to visit the place that had inspired it all.
The train ride to Misawa was a lot shorter than the train ride to Kure had been, but maybe that's because he knew where he was going.
He wouldn't be able to stay there for very long. He didn't even have to. He just wanted to look at the place; to see if it was as great and mystical as everyone said it was.
Stepping out from the fluorescent lights of the train station and into the dimly lit entrance of the ryokan, Sonny noticed the architecture first. The place looked ancient. Like it had always been there, looking back at you.
It didn't look haunted. At least not in the way that those places on TV always looked haunted. There were no broken windows, no ominous warnings, no chipped paint. It was all…serene. Maybe that was the creepiest part about it all. It looked untouched from its surroundings. Like the past fifty years had never happened.
Sonny walked up to the door, not even fully convinced that he was going to go inside. He pressed his ear against the paper-covered glass. Inside, he heard an elderly woman speaking in a hostile tone, and a younger voice responding. They weren't guests, he determined, as they had regional accents. They must run the place or something.
No, the only voice that he could distinguish as being foreign belonged to another young woman. She was American, it seemed. Just like him. Had she heard all the rumors of the hauntings? Was she like Sonny? Did she want to see if they were actually true?
Before he could give it a second thought, he cracked open the door just enough to see inside. There, he could see the two young women, although the elderly one had apparently left. There was a shattered portrait beside the front desk, but Sonny's eyes were once again drawn to the American girl.
Strawberry blonde, he thought. That was the first thing he noticed, as her back was towards the door.
His thinking was interrupted by a muted vibrating coming from his phone. He quickly shut the door and looked at the Caller ID. It was his soon-to-be employer, calling all the way from Germany. He cursed to himself, remembering the reason he had to leave so soon in the first place.
With one last glance at the ryokan, Sonny answered the phone and walked back towards the train station.