"Could I talk to you?"

Nana flinched at the sound, even though she had felt him approaching. Shin's voice was gentle, but cold and clear, and he spoke to others as a superior would. The other girls in the class had immediately become infatuated with the new student, and they hadn't noticed at all Nana's withdrawal from the boy.

"This won't take long," Shin said, and smiled his closed-lip smile. Nana was incredulous to see him hold out his hand, his long fingers beckoning.

Then, for reasons Nana could never explain, even far into the future as a very old woman, she rose to her unsteady feet. Seconds passed while Nana stood pigeon-toed, smoothing her short skirt. Shin was motionless. At last, Nana moved her trembling hand into Shin's grasp, and dared to look at him.

The Diclonius felt her uneasiness slide as she made eye contact with the handsome boy, though it was not replaced by reassurance. Nana's pink eyes studied Shin's crimson ones while gleaning no insight past their matte steadiness.

"Shameless…" came a low gossiping voice out of earshot from them, as the boy and girl moved through the crowd and turned the hall's corner.

Kaede House, while only in its second year of operation, was not the money pit that Kohta's aunt and uncle had envisioned. Somehow, the out-of-the-way establishment turned a small profit with the combined efforts of its staff. Yuka, Mayu, and Nana all had other commitments, but they did what they could to assist Kohta and Kaede in their partnership.

Though the inn was now reverted to its former function as a Japanese-style lodging house, it still served as a home for Kaede, Kohta, and Nana. There was something comforting about living and working in the same building, and Kaede could see this in Kohta without asking him about it. If she asked herself, she wouldn't want to call this place 'home', but she was content to be here, all the same. Wherever Kohta was, that's where Kaede would be.

The tourist season in Kamakura was winding to a close, and the recently cool temperatures had not helped to sustain it. There was only one guest still staying at Kaede House, which meant that Nana and Mayu weren't called upon as often. Nevertheless, Nana, living at the inn, took it upon herself to help informally when she had a spare moment. However, even informally, the girl was always dressed in her pink kimono, and it went without saying that decorations of ribbons or flowers always occluded her horns.

Takeshi Yamanote was in his 80s, a life-long bachelor, who had deigned to soak up his retirement while he figured he was still mobile. It had only been a few years since Yamanote gave up the suit-and-tie life and set out to tour as much of Japan as he possibly could. There was no end planned to this trip; Yamanote understood that the cancer would render him an invalid in anywhere from a month to a year from now. It was the second time he had been to Kamakura on this particular trip, but the first he had ever noticed the little Kaede House.

This was a curious inn, indeed. The minimal staff shouldn't have been surprising, given the small size of the place, but what drew him to it was its isolation amongst the Western-style houses that were ubiquitous in that part of town. Kaede House was close to the beach, and Yamanote thought that prime real estate like that would have since been taken up and redeveloped into something more modern and residential. And yet the Japanese-style inn remained. Yamanote took it as an abstract sign, and rented a room. His faith in this was half-whimsical, but only half. Never very spiritual before, or believing in signs, Yamanote found himself slowly embracing ideas of the world beyond that of the living; not dogmatically, but regarding whatever gave the old man fragments of comfort.

Kaede House was a fine inn. Yamanote knew from conversing with his hosts that the place had only been open a couple of years, re-established mostly by the young man and woman who ate with him at dinner. They were a pair unlike any innkeeping couple Yamanote had come across before. The man, Kohta, was gracious and accommodating, but looked somehow strained and distant at times. He could be speaking politely and looking past his guest at the same time, though his guest was never truly disconcerted. This palpable unease in Kohta gave Yamanote a sense of veiled fragility from the younger man.

His partner, Kaede, had the same fragility, but it was veiled behind such intense professionalism and crisp beauty that Yamanote almost didn't notice. The woman was usually wearing a dark purple kimono decorated with spidery white tree limbs. Her rich, vivid hair was kept done up in the classical Japanese style, leaving several strands always dangling free around her white neck. Kaede had a piercing red gaze, but this never seemed intrusive or intimidating to Yamanote. The hard look coming from under Kaede's long bangs was meshed with a becoming smile of service and dedication. And yet there was a sadness shining through her focused eyes that Yamanote could not ignore. It was the same sadness that was in the young man's eyes, of that he could be sure. But beyond this, the old man failed to see how such despondency could have any relation to the charming inn and its managers. He didn't ask questions; Yamanote learned long ago that the hidden things in others were better left untouched.

One night, Yamanote awoke with the familiar urge in his old age to relieve himself. Upon stepping out of the toilet into the hall on the first floor, a flash of pink in the gloom made him turn his head to the staircase.

More surprised than he should have been, Yamanote saw the short, pink-haired attendant slowly descend the stairs. She was sleep-walking, from her vacant, steady gaze. This was the first time Yamanote had seen the young woman out of the yukata she wore for work. Nana wore shorts and a sleeveless tank top, and… none of the usual hair ornaments.

Horns.

Yamanote blinked, dumbfounded, as he observed that, in the absence of the ribbons or flamboyant floral adornments that were daily on Nana's head, two short, bony protrusions jutted from her temples, rising triangularly from the pink mess of her hair.

Nana reached the wood paneling of the ground floor, and in the silent house her bare feet made clear but soft sounds on the polished surface.

"Wait."

Nana's eyes became focused, and she looked to be caught off-balance as she woke up. Yamanote immediately regretted speaking, but his initial surprise rebounded as the strange girl turned and looked him full in the face. She gasped, and stumbled backward.

"Sorry! I just –"

Reaching out a hand in a vague helpful gesture, the old man was quiet when one of Nana's legs detached as she landed hard on her bottom, flipping over and landing with a thud. Immediately, an unseen force held the limb and locked it back into place, but Yamanote had seen.

"Wahhh…"

Nana made an inarticulate exclamation, and drew a hand over her mouth, occluding her blushing face.

She's… embarrassed?

Yamanote was starting to sweat. He smiled gently and knelt, slowly taking the strange girl's other hand.

"It's all right," was all he could say. "Uh, how about we have a talk over some tea, if you don't mind? I'm sure we'd both feel better."

Nana stopped shivering, and with a pensive face, let the old man with the wet brow help her to her feet.

With surreal familiarity, the horned young woman drew a chair for the guest in the kitchen, and set out a small tea service while the water boiled. She was visibly shaken, and her naked limbs trembled slightly, but Nana's movements were clean and what Yamanote would expect of an attendant at the finest inn he had patronized in Kyoto.

"Um, I've never met anyone like you, but… are you a zashiki warashi? A house spirit?"

Nana blinked.

"My mother used to tell stories about girls like you. Like beings that would look after houses in secret when the owners were out. You're… such a good housekeeper, I just thought that…"

Yamanote trailed off, as though he feared his supposition would scare her away, back into the realm of imagination. He was relieved when Nana's reddened face shone up at him with trust and warmth.

"Yes. But… there aren't many like me left, so, could you keep it a secret? My… horns, I mean. And my leg."

"Of course," said Yamanote, graciously. "You have nothing to fear. And I'm not afraid of you, even though you have horns. There's no way that you could be an oni or some bad spirit, I'm sure."

Nana blushed, and she clasped her hands in front of her hips. The kettle boiled, and she prepared some green tea.

The two sipped their drinks side-by-side in the sitting room, facing the door to the porch, which, being chilly outside, they left shut.

"Aren't you cold, miss?" said Yamanote, clutching his tea and wrapping his yukata closer. He glanced platonically at Nana's bare arms and legs.

"I'm okay. My arms and legs never feel more than they have to. And I've spent most of my life not wearing any clothes, so I'm used to the cold."

Yamanote wasn't sure how to respond. He had no idea why this otherworldly girl would lie to him, but given her horns and her detachable leg, he wasn't sure what to believe. His eyes passing as chastely as he could over Nana's form, Yamanote could see very fine scars passing over the circumference of her limbs. They looked almost like doll joints, at equal lengths at Nana's upper arms and thighs. Were all of her limbs detachable? If she was truly a zashiki warashi, the old legends had never described one like this. And yet Yamanote clung to that as the only description he could give to the girl. Not knowing was…

"Listen, is something on your mind, dear?" Yamanote couldn't think of anything else to say. He thought that his odd acquaintance was uncomfortable. "Why don't you tell me? I've already promised I would keep a big secret for you, so I'm sure anything else must be very small."

"Mr. Yamanote," said Nana. "What should you do… if someone you've just met says that they love you?"

Yamanote put down his teacup. He was as surprised as the instant he saw the girl's horns. It was as though he were talking to an ordinary teenager, he thought.

"Well, uh..."

"It's just someone I know!" said Nana, as though she were apologizing. "Today, he confessed his love for me out of nowhere. The strangest thing is I get a feeling from him… this weird feeling that I can't ignore. It was there even before he confessed."

Yamanote took a moment to collect himself.

This is a zashiki warashi. A good demon. What does that tell you?

From the stories he had heard in his childhood, Yamanote was aware of the recurring theme of supernatural beings seducing mortals. The concept of a human man declaring his love for a woman not of this world was backward to him; absurd, even. It was just as bizarre as actually meeting someone like Nana.

Looking into Nana's big pink eyes, Yamanote took in her nervous but imploring mien, and the very human confusion etched on her young face. Yamanote's thoughts slowed, and he felt that, right now, Nana was simply a girl looking for answers in her life, like any other.

"Miss, whoever this person is, I think he is someone who is in tune with the world you come from. I have a feeling that he immediately saw you for who you really are, and that the two of you are meant to be because of that. Give him some time, but remember that this person has the sight and the will to bridge the gap between worlds. I think that's beautiful, personally. Don't be afraid of him."

The two sat and chatted for another hour or so, mostly about Yamanote and his travels. The old man was impressed that a teenage girl would pay attention to his ramblings. His brother's grandchildren were never this kind. But then, they weren't horned spirits, either. Yamanote didn't ask Nana any more questions; he felt as though getting too intimate with a youkai or other supernatural entity was profane in a sense. He wasn't concerned about being cursed, but rather he feared that the girl might dissipate like smoke if he picked too much at the fantastical truth he had discovered.

With a kind word, Yamanote walked Nana back to her room and said goodnight, taking pleasure in the relief in her glowing face. Less than a minute later, Yamanote was back in his room and immediately asleep.

Kaede House's last guest checked out early, not long after day broke, but Nana was there to help Yamanote bring his luggage across the small inn's wide courtyard. Seeing her in a coral-pink kimono, and with orange lilies decorating her hair, Yamanote felt as though little had changed in Nana's presentation. She was as smiling and helpful as she was when he had checked in. Her horns weren't visible now under the orange petals, but knowing that they were there made Yamanote feel a more solid link with the other world, the world yet to come, and the one he would soon reach on his own.

Climbing into the waiting taxi, Yamanote saw Nana give him a girlish wave at the outer door's threshold. Perhaps her nature as a zashiki warashi prevented her from leaving the courtyard. Yamanote's hand twitched in the impulse to wave back, but the door was shut, and Nana was gone.