What is she? A bouncer? A thug? A loli thug? She’s really Yakuza! Her attitude rivals mine easily. I’d tried to act like yakuza when I was angry and confused about my treatment by others. Why do that? I thought it might help to distance the critics from me. In essence, all I’d ended up doing was contributing to the rumor mill.

I was about to leave. The girl was simply unapproachable. Nevertheless, I considered my options first.

1: I go home and be a monster forever, doomed to lose my mind.

2: I stay here, she destroys me.

3: I could kill myself, like maybe starving myself to death on her doorstep.

I couldn't think of a better plan, still needing information. Gingerly, I crept towards the door as silently as possible, feeling as though if I made a loud noise in doing so, I’d bring her out after me again. She might have been baiting me closer. At a crucial moment she’d throw her door wide open and slam her bat down onto my head. A hundred simulations ran through my mind and in every one, the loli-dragoness crushed my head with a pugnacious expression.

I looked hesitantly towards the sign she’d pointed at, glancing back towards the door to make sure it wasn’t a distraction. There was something on the door painted probably many years past. It was the faded plaque I’d noticed and dismissed because the lettering there was flaking. There’d been no time to decipher it, but she couldn’t have known that.

“S-Shinohara Spiritual D-Detective Services..." I stared as I read it aloud, far louder than I should! I clapped my hands to my sentai mask.

Why read this? I know I’m at the right place, but what good comes of knowing this?!

I looked at the cartoony doodle of a sign taped up on the wall. I didn’t see anything at first, but what I found was less helpful than finding nothing would have been. To the side I noticed another little sign, also hastily tacked on with a flimsy strip of Scotch tape.

This thing could tear off in a gentle breeze. Would she try to blame others if they didn’t see her silly sign because they didn’t notice it or it fell on the floor? I read the silly note aloud. “NO MALE SOLICITORS ARE WELCOME RIGHT NOW!” I couldn’t stop from wailing while reading it.

My noh-eyes widened. I staggered back, my hands raised before me to ward off the concentrated evil of her little cartoony sign. It was incredibly childish, and scribbled with crayons. There were cutesy doodles all over and around it. Chief of those were the shapes of a man’s genitalia with a circle and a diagonal line through it. She’d even doodled in a flame below each! I was certain that she was a real oni in disguise. The highly concentration of pure evil within the sign confirmed it.

I swallowed as I inevitably looked towards the door with dread clutching at me. Her sign practically said, ‘Men will be slaughtered upon sight.’ Well, she’d not gone that far yet, but to approach her yet again might truly finish me.

My desperation mounted as time ticked away. I stared at the sign, my only company in the small hallway. As I did, anger began to flame deep inside me, a pot full of oil sitting on top. The oil started to roil inside the pan and then sloshed violently. The flame guttered, but then it burst up explosively! I became enraged like never before.

I’d been a sad victim all day! The world kicked me repeatedly, daily. The victories I’d had were small compared with the loss I’d experienced. Everything was already gone. My life would end no matter what. Like with my father, I lost control entirely. I became the violent brute everyone accused me of being. I stomped and jumped up and down, bellowing. Finally, I hurled myself at the door, having successfully psyched myself up. I slammed on it repeatedly with my arms and turned to ram it with my ass repeatedly. My yelling became more shrill. It was probably shrill because of the damage she’d caused down below. It was like a typhoon struck Australia and consumed the whole continent!

“Evil pimple-covered-gangster-oni-ogre-demon-dragon-devil-yokai-poop-eating-creature!” The insults were babbled and none got her attention.

“FLAT!”

“FLAT-CHAN!”

“FLAT-CHAN!!!” I screamed to get her attention. It devolved further. I was only screaming FLAAAAAAAAT repeatedly. I discovered a dubious benefit of becoming a yokai. It’s much harder to get a sore throat shrieking, so you can scream nearly endlessly, and require no breathing between.

I knew my behavior would soon usher in my destruction. I was summoning the apocalypse. All four horsemen were riding around me.

Her response came quickly. She threw open the door furiously, holding the bat. She looked like she’d been possessed by Sadako. Her eyes were shining with anger. Her lip twisted over her teeth on one side as she snarled, twitching. She stumped towards me like the primal oni she was.

My gorilla-mode had triggered her. That conflagration within me instantly froze with a whimper, which I uttered. “Crap...”