"Kokkuri-san, Kokkuri-san, if you're here, please move this coin."
A wind rustled the curtains at the kitchen window, and Inari smiled. "Kokkuri-san, Kokkuri-san, is it you here with me?"
The coin under her finger jerked once to the left, away from the gate freshly painted on the paper, then slid to the right over the word "YES." The parchment in front of her was covered in letters and numbers, a couple of small, common words, as well. Since she was a child and she watched her older brother play this game, she had talked to Kokkuri-san quite often. He was a spirit who, she came to find out later, was part fox, dog, and raccoon, and he was often called upon to answer questions. Years before, he had merely kept Inari company and played word games with her that she liked to invent. Now, he was her confidante, and she liked to ask for his advice.
He could be a trickster.
He could be a liar.
Either way, he was her friend.
"Kokkuri-san, I forgot to say goodbye to you last night. Did you move my pencil sharpener?"
"Yes."
"Kokkuri-san, where did you put it?"
"Bed."
She laughed and replied sarcastically, "You're so creative. Alright, next question."
It went on like this every day for about an hour. Sometimes she cried to Kokkuri-san about her problems, and he didn't like it when she cried. To make her stop, he would push something off the table, so she quickly fell into the habit of clearing it off before she started up a conversation. Most of the time, though, their talks were pretty calm.
"Can I ask you about my future today, Kokkuri-san?" Inari asked with a dreamy smile. He wouldn't let her ask those questions yesterday.
"Yes."
"Will I meet my Scorpio this week?"
"No."
Pouting, she added, "Kokkuri-san, can you please tell me his name again?"
The coin flashed across the board, quickly spelling out the name of a man. Kokkuri-san had told Inari once that this was the name of her future soulmate, but wouldn't tell her when they would meet.
"Kokkuri-san, what does he look like?"
She thought she heard a whispered laugh in her ear and the coin moved back to the red gate. Eyes wide, she huffed. She hadn't been specific enough for him to answer with the paper board. Rolling her eyes, she rephrased her question and asked what color his hair was.
"Dark."
Is he tall?
"Yes."
Is he kind?
"Stop."
"What?" Inari asked indignantly. "Why?" The coin slipped quickly across the paper again, spelling out an entire phrase.
"Perfect. For. You."
It filled her stomach with a warm feeling that rose into her chest and gave her chills down her spine. "Thank you, Kokkuri-san," she said gratefully, "I hope you have a decent evening. Kokkuri-san, Kokkuri-san, please return home."
The coin covered "Yes" and she felt the breeze rush past her again. When the wind had gone through the window and the curtains stopped rustling, she slowly got up and shut Kokkuri-san's portal in. Inari lit a large, white candle on her countertop and held the board over the flame until it burned the red gate away. There was an unusually loud hiss when it disappeared, and she made sure the rest of the paper burned away to nothing but a pile of ash. Sweeping it out t front door, she ran to her room, fished the hand-held pencil sharpener out from under her bed, and started sketching like nothing paranormal had just occured.
Outside her bedroom window, a long, narrow muzzle, patched with red and brown, leered against the sill. A creature resembling a giant, wild dog sat there, its thick ringed tail wagging about with nothing to do. Something whispered around its mane and it looked up, staring into the distance. Another wind blew, and it was gone.