Yoiyama Kaleidoscope

The girl and her younger sister attended Suzaki Ballet Studio, which was in a venerable four-story building on Sanjō Street in Koromonotana-chō to the west of its intersection with Muromachi Street. Each Saturday, their mother would send them off from their white, ivy-covered residence behind Kyoto Notre Dame University, and they would ride the gently swaying subway car to the studio in the middle of town.

The lesson that day proceeded just like any other.

As the girl practiced her steps in front of the giant, hazy mirror, her attention was drawn to the window looking out onto Sanjō Street. The frosted glass admitted only a dim silver light, giving no indication of the festivities that were beginning to stir outside on the city streets. But getting off the subway with her sister at their usual stop, the girl had espied more than a few couples walking along the platform wearing yukata, and thus concluded that today was Yoiyama.

Once something caught her attention, the girl had a bad habit of forgetting about everything else. She made misstep after misstep, looking sublimely unperturbed all the while, failing even to notice Miss Misaki’s gimlet eye trained upon her. It was she who had dragged her little sister into taking ballet lessons, yet now she was so bored that it was all she could do to keep herself from screaming in frustration.

During a break, the girl snuck up to the fourth floor, which proved a most enjoyable excursion. The fourth floor was filled with so many marvelous odds and ends, it was as if Yoiyama was creeping in from the roof.

“What a shock that fish gave me!” she reflected, her feet pattering away on the wooden floor. “And how did it get so fat?”

“No detours on your way home,” Ms. Suzaki reminded the students as the lesson ended at last, though her words seemed aimed at the girl in particular.

The air in the dressing room was thick with the funk of sweat as the girls chatted in low tones about Yoiyama. Some were planning to go with friends, others with parents, and the more the girl listened to them chatter, the more restive she became, until she couldn’t stand any more.

She nudged her sister’s shoulder, which was slightly damp with sweat, and hissed, “Let’s go sightseeing!”

Her sister glanced back at her, looking uneasy. “I don’t wanna.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport!”

Her sister shook her head and maintained a stony silence as they walked down the stairs. She’d never had any sense of adventure; for her, there was always something to fear, something to worry about.

Coming to a red-carpeted landing, the girl grabbed hold of her sister’s arm.

“Come on, let’s go!”

“But Ms. Suzaki said not to take any detours!”

“Then we won’t tell her!”

“What if she finds out?”

“Don’t worry about it!”

The two descended to the first floor and pushed open the heavy door together, coming out onto the street.

A sticky, oppressive fug lay over the city. The tops of the buildings were trimmed in golden sunlight, as were the clouds that floated in the sky above. Sanjō Street was even more crowded than usual.

The girls came out onto Karasuma Street. The wide asphalt valley between the office building cliffs was devoid of cars. Instead, the roadway was filled with children and couples wearing yukata and businessmen on their way home. The girl was so elated at seeing such a rare sight she felt like skipping.

Pulling her sister along, she ran into the middle of the street. Both sides of the avenue were crowded with market stalls, more than she had ever seen in her life, stretching out far into the distance, their electric lights already glowing under the afternoon sun. The mouthwatering smell of grilling food wafted through the muggy air. Standing in the middle of the street looking up, the sky above seemed to go on forever.

The two girls walked along Karasuma Street, Kyoto Tower rising up in the distance in front of them. They entered one of the myriad alleys to find it even more crowded than the main street had been, the heat and noise overpowering. Street stalls had managed to pop up even in this narrow pathway, forcing sightseers to push and jostle as they passed through the alley.

The girl was eager to see the praying mantis which she had heard about in the dressing room. Not knowing where the float was located in this web of streets, she took a map from a man who was handing them out at the side of the road, but finding reading it too difficult, she soon gave up and struck out haphazardly. Her sister trailed along behind her, looking as if she were about to cry.

Between the lights of the stalls, the body heat emanating from the crowd, and the muggy weather, walking through the streets was like being in a sauna. The girl’s hand was slick with sweat as she dragged her sister behind her. Each time she saw something interesting she gave a cry of delight: roasted corn, fried chicken, goldfish scooping, lotteries, hot dogs, tamago senbei, mini castellas, grilled chicken skewers, balloons, takoyaki, target shooting, okonomiyaki, shaved ice, candied apples and strawberries, masks and stuffed animals.

Here and there, she spotted festival floats blazing with lights, rising high above the dark silhouettes of the crowd below.

　　　　　　　◯

Just as the girl had well and truly lost her way and was giving up hope of ever reaching her destination, she came across Mr. Yanagi.

Mr. Yanagi worked at an art gallery by Sanjō Takakura. The girl had gone there with her mother once, and she still remembered the fragrant black tea that he had served her. Now, he was loitering by a vending machine, carrying a cloth-wrapped package. He looked a little weary.

“Hello!” the sister chirped, greeting him politely.

“Well, hello there,” he said, smiling.

“Do you know where the praying mantis is?”

“Praying mantis… perhaps you mean Tōrōyama?”

“Yes, that must be it.”

Mr. Yanagi smiled again and gave them clear, simple instructions on how to get there.

“Don’t let go of each other,” he instructed them as they parted ways. “Hold hands tightly, so you don’t lose each other.”

Following the directions Mr. Yanagi had given them, the girls at last made their way to Tōrōyama.

Now that they had found Tōrōyama, the girl’s little sister began to insist they go home. The girl still wanted to enjoy herself some more, but she did feel a little sorry for her sister.

Turning to retrace their steps through the festival, her eyes fell upon a group of girls, all wearing red yukata. Though the alley was packed with sightseers, the girls flitted between them as gracefully as a school of goldfish, darting through momentary gaps in the crowd as if being sucked in. How delightful it would be to go out and enjoy Yoiyama wearing yukata, the girl thought. So beautiful and otherworldly were those girls, even her sister stopped clamoring and trying to pull her along for the moment; she stood there transfixed, her mouth half-open, and her sweaty hand dropped limply to her side.

Why did she let go of her sister’s hand?

Afterward, the girl would come to recall the moment when her sister’s hand slipped away from her own sweat-slicked fingers as one of sheer terror. While she frequently remarked on her sister’s timidity, it was never done with disdain; her mischief often exasperated her sister, but she had never deliberately sought to torment her, and to leave her sister alone in the tumult of Yoiyama—the thought of doing something so cruel would never had crossed her mind.

Perhaps her sister thought that the sweat had made her hand slip, or perhaps she was just that enraptured by the girls in yukata; either way she didn’t notice that the girl was no longer by her side. Her stupor only lasted for a moment, though, and through a gap in the crowd the girl saw her wildly look around, then strike off in the wrong direction, lip quivering and tears brimming in her eyes.

The girl chased after her.

Her sister sporadically disappeared and reappeared through the rippling crowd. Though at times she would lose sight of her, it was easy to pick out her shiny bun, and that lulled her into a sense of security. After tailing her for some time, she noticed that her sister had started to walk at a more leisurely pace; where earlier she had been close to bursting into tears, now she was glancing curiously at the stalls as she walked by. The girl was perturbed by the fact that her sister didn’t seem to be looking for her at all.

“Hey!” she called out.

Her sister didn’t turn around to look, but someone else did. It was one of the girls from ballet class who had been chattering so excitedly about Yoiyama earlier in the dressing room. She was standing next to her parents, and her expression turned skeptical when she realized that the girl was alone in the crowd. She was holding a glistening, partially eaten glazed strawberry on a stick.

“Are you by yourself?” she asked. “You’re not supposed to go off on your own.”

“Yes, I know,” the girl answered, quickly walking away.

It had been some time since she let go of her sister’s hand. She returned to the spot where they had parted, but her sister was nowhere to be seen. Since her sister didn’t know her way around, standing here and hoping that she would find her way back was optimistic at best. The girl’s eyes flickered back and forth as she left the alley, squinting as she scanned the crowds for a glimpse of her sister. Only minutes ago she had thought nothing of the crowds, but now she felt stifled by the masses of people swirling around her.

Trying to cheer herself up, she bought a glazed strawberry from one of the stalls. She bit through the crunchy candy shell and savored the burst of tart, juicy strawberry underneath. It was heavenly.

As she stood in front of the stall eating the strawberry, she noticed someone passing by with a strange balloon. The surface of the bobbing balloon was decorated to look like a fish bowl with images of aquatic plants and gravel, and inside it was actually filled with water and a real, live goldfish. Fascinated, she took a closer look and saw the fish twirl around with a flash of its fins.

“Where did you buy that balloon?” the girl asked.

“This?” smiled the yukata-clad woman who was holding the balloon. “I didn’t buy it. Someone gave it to me.”

“For free?”

“There’s a monk handing them out in front of the brown building over there. Go see for yourself!”

The girl started walking.

I’m still looking for my sister, the girl told herself. But her sister would be so happy if she could get her hands on one of those balloons, too. The girl decided to get two of those balloons and give one to her sister, as an apology for letting go of her hand.

　　　　　　　◯

The girl spotted the robed, bearded monk in front of the brown building. His ferocious countenance painted a curious picture juxtaposed with the goldfish balloon he was holding. Occasionally the monk would look up at the goldfish swimming inside the balloon and whistle, and as if in response the fish would swim to the bottom of the balloon flapping its cute little fins.

“What are you looking at, runt?” the monk rumbled, rolling his eyes down to glare at her. “Beat it!”

The girl continued to stare at the balloon.

“Interested in this?” the monk asked, giving it a little shake.

The girl nodded. “Can I have it?”

“Not this one. This is for my niece in Tanukidani.”

“Where can I go to get one?”

“Lord Yoiyama was distributing them, but they’re all gone now. Popular things, these. If you want one you’ll have to wait until next year’s Yoiyama.”

The girl’s shoulders slumped in disappointment, rather theatrically.

The monk brought his giant frame down so he could look at her face, bringing the balloon low enough that she could reach out her hand and touch it. It felt pleasantly cool, like a water balloon. Viewed through the transparent latex, the goldfish looked as if it were swimming in a spiderweb of power lines, silhouetted against the pale pink sky.

The girl made a show of stamping her feet petulantly.

“Do you really want one that badly?”

“I do, I really do! I want two of them!”

“Two! You insatiable wretch!”

“One for me, and one for my sister!”

“Icy,” muttered the monk, scratching his bristly chin. “Icy.”

“What’s icy?”

“I mean, I see.”

“Icy.”

“Don’t copy me. Where is your sister?”

“We got separated. I’m going to go find her, right after I get my balloons.”

“You dunderhead. There are no more balloons.”

The girl puffed out her cheeks sullenly. Not missing a beat, the monk made the same face right back at her.

“What kind of face is that? Who taught you to do that? What, you think doing that will let you get your way?”

“No one taught me anything!”

“Pout all you want, that’s not going to make a balloon just appear out of thin air.”

“Fine. I’ll just stay like this forever.”

True to her word, the girl situated herself next to the monk and pouted. The sight of the diminutive girl next to this mountain of a monk was quite remarkable, drawing curious glances from passersby.

Just as the girl’s cheeks were starting to get sore, the monk gave in.

“All right, all right, I’ll find one for you.”

The girl puffed out all the air she had been holding in.

“Follow me,” said the monk, leading her into a narrow alleyway between the brown building and the neighboring hair salon.

Even the recesses of this tiny corridor were saturated with the aura of Yoiyama. Large paper lanterns hung from the eaves of many of the houses fronting the alley, forming a lambent orange trail that floated off into the darkness. An old man sat cross-legged on a bamboo bench, bare from the waist up, his face growing steadily redder with each swig of beer. The air was infused with the smoky bouquet of an unseen mosquito coil.

As the girl trotted through the alley taking in the sights with unbridled curiosity, she felt something slither into her sandal onto her bare foot. She screamed and kicked her foot wildly, sending something that looked like a centipede tumbling away onto the dim pathway. Taking off the pink sandal, the girl hopped from foot to foot, flailing the sandal around.

“What was that creepy-crawly! Gross!”

“No need for hysterics. It was just a hellgrammite, nothing more,” the monk said, pointing to the gutter at the side of the road.

Looking into the gutter, the girl saw an endless procession of hellgrammites marching along, their countless legs scuttling in the dirt. The girl gave another shriek and grabbed the hem of the monk’s robe.

“Get off! It’s hot enough as it is!” he bellowed, shaking her off. “Hellgrammites swarm during Yoiyama, that’s obvious!”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why?”

“It’s obvious why, that’s all. Get used to it!”

“Icy.”

Regaining her composure, the girl put her sandal back on.

At the back entrance of the building was a small shop. A round table and chairs were set up by it on the street, though no customers were in sight.

“It’s just like we’re in France!” the girl whispered.

The sign outside the shop said “CALPIS ・RAMUNE・BEER”. Over the crackly speakers of the old-fashioned radio on top of the white table, someone was crooning a weepy-sounding song in a foreign language.

“What might you be doing down there, your reverence?” came a voice from above.

A beautiful maiko was leaning out a window on the fourth floor, waving her hands at them airily. In the same window a wind chime tinkled breezily.

“Hello there. What are you doing so high up?”

“Why, the stalls shall be here presently.”

“This girl here insists on getting a balloon.”

“My, my. But the balloons are gone now, are they not?”

“I believe there may be some left with Lord Yoiyama.”

The maiko cocked her head. “Then you wish to see for yourself?”

“That’s right.”

“Pray wait a moment, then, till the feeding is complete.”

While the monk and the maiko were carrying on their conversation, the girl stood on her tiptoes, peering through a window on the side of the building. The other side was dark and murky, as if it were filled with water, but for a moment she thought she had seen a large something moving beyond the sooty glass. The pane was pleasantly cool as she pressed her flushed cheek against it, and she was rather enjoying the sensation when a gigantic eyeball filled the window, staring straight at her.

“Eep!”

She jumped back as if physically repelled.

“Is it so difficult for you to just sit still?”

“I just saw a huge eyeball!”

“Must have been the koi,” said the monk, rapping on the glass. After a moment, there was a flash of scales, and the watermelon-sized fish eye emerged from the depths once again.

“This entire building is a fish tank.”

“It’s huge!” the girl gasped.

“Hannyaharamita’s a splendid fish, he is.”

“What’s Hannyaharamita?”

“That’s the fish’s name. I gave it to him.”

“Icy.”

“How many times must I tell you not to mimic me, accursed child!”

　　　　　　　◯

“I helped raise goldfish when I weren’t no bigger than you.”

“You started working when you were a kid?”

“That’s right, when I was in Kurama. I didn’t get to play all day like you kids do these days.”

As they ascended a spiral staircase, the monk told the girl about the goldfish balloon.

Deep in the mountains and ravines of Kurama, he said, was a pristine and remote valley where few humans had trod, and in this valley was a riverbed which bubbled forth a constant stream of water that was lighter than air. Sometimes the bubbles would get as big as a watermelon and rise up to wander among the treetops, but most of the time they were only the size of a marble, with a lifespan to match. The bubbles would quickly scatter in the wind, diffusing into a thick fog which blanketed the valley. Left alone, they would eventually mix with normal water, lose their lightness, and join the rivulets flowing through the valley. The weightless water was collected in contraptions made of bottles and thin pipes to be sold.

Next to the valley there was a goldfish farm, and by the farm, several enormous round balloons floated in a clearing cut out of the surrounding forest. Inside these balloons, goldfish hung suspended in the weightless water. As a young novice, the monk had earned his pocket money by feeding these goldfish. The fish would converge one after another as he pushed their food through the thin tube that passed through a hole in the bottom of the balloon. Fish that were reared in the mysterious water would become weightless themselves, and once they matured into fine young adults, each fish was sealed inside a balloon of its own.

The natural springs had largely dried up in Kyoto, but somehow in that valley the magical floating water continued to gush forth.

“It’s called tengu water.”

“Why?”

“Again with the whys. That’s what it has always been called, and that is all the explanation there is.”

“Icy.”

At the end of the stairs they came to the roof.

Pale pink clouds were scattered about the sky, the sun already below the horizon. A cool evening breeze was blowing as night slowly seeped in from the east. In the middle of the roof was a round pool, which was connected directly with the enormous fish tank that had been hollowed out of the building. A thick mist drifted over the surface of the water. The maiko sat in a small boat in the pool, holding a hagoita and sprinkling glittering pebbles into the water.

Urged along by the monk, the girl looked into the pool and saw a whale of a koi rising towards the surface, its mouth opening and closing. It consumed the pebbles with great decorum. Only then did the girl realize that the pebbles were actually hard candies.

“Koi can eat candy?”

“Can’t get that big if you’re gonna be picky. Time was it used to be only this big,” the monk said, sticking up his thumb.

“That’s amazing!” the girl marveled.

“When goldfish grow up, they turn into koi. Do you know what koi turn into when they grow up?”

“No idea.”

“Fah. You’ll learn soon enough.”

The girl and the monk stood by the pond and watched the fish feeding. After a while, the maiko turned over the can and emptied the remaining candies into the pool, then stuck her hagoita into the water and used it to row to the edge of the pool. The koi turned over in the water, making ripples on the surface of the water.

“Done and done!” the maiko exclaimed cheerfully, springing out of the rocking boat onto the shore.

“Well done, I suppose.”

“And what a fine fish it has grown up to be!”

“Then shall we to Lord Yoiyama?”

The maiko scrutinized the girl’s face. “You really want these balloons so deeply?”

The girl nodded emphatically. “But who’s Lord Yoiyama?”

“Lord Yoiyama is Lord Yoiyama, the greatest in all the land—at least for tonight.”

“I tell you, this girl’s curiosity knows no bounds,” the monk said ruefully.

The maiko walked to the edge of the building and held up her hagoita.

The hagoita grew and grew like the magic pole from Journey to the West, until it reached all the way to the next building. The maiko tested the makeshift bridge with her foot, then looked back over her shoulder.

“Well, let’s be on our way. Night will fall if we don’t hurry.”

　　　　　　　◯

Buildings rose and fell, jostling all around the girl as she journeyed through this world of rooftops.

Each rooftop was like an island, floating above the sunken city in the sea of Yoiyama, sprouting water tanks, AC units, small shrines, power lines, antennas. At first the girl was frightened as the maiko led her by the hand over the gaps between the buildings, but she soon grew accustomed to it. The monk trailed along, nearly forgotten.

“This one has the makings of a tengu,” he panted, wiping sweat away as he hustled up behind them. “She’s more used to this than I am!”

“There’s youth for you,” smiled the maiko.

In the precipices between the buildings, the floats could be seen rising up in the narrow alleys. From the ground, the floats seemed as big as castles, yet seen from above they were as petite as the table lamp in the girl’s living room. From this perspective the people in the crowd were tiny too, and viewed from the rooftop the squirming masses resembled nothing so much as the hellgrammites the girl had observed earlier in the gutter.

“It won’t be long before this place too is overrun,” remarked the maiko.

A lagoon had formed in an area enclosed by several old buildings. Judging from its depth, the water must have been collecting there for many years. The party boarded a boat at the landing that had been built at the edge of the rooftop, and with a heave-ho, the monk began to row. An old lantern hung from the prow of the boat, casting its feeble light over the surface of the water.

The girl reached out her hand along with the maiko and touched the murky water.

“You’d better not fall in. These waters run deep,” the monk said grimly.

“How come all this water is here?”

“Long ago, there was a famous well here at the bottom of this pool. The people of this town did all they could to protect it, even when the buildings started going up around it. Eventually the well ran dry, and when it did, people started talking about filling it and putting up a building over it. That’s when water started pouring out of the well, and there was so much gushing out that they couldn’t stop it up. In the end they decided to construct all these buildings around the well, and that’s how this pond was made. It’s been seven years, and now the water comes up seven stories high.”

The water in the pond looked awfully murky.

As the boat glided along languidly, the dark surface of the water began to glitter with the crimson light of the lanterns festooning the beer garden on the far side of the pond. A drunkard was leaning on the railing at the edge of the rooftop, waving his hand at the group. Just then, a thumping sound came from the hull of the boat. Peering over the side, the girl saw a great number of glass balls floating in the water, each containing a flickering red flame.

“What kind of person is Lord Yoiyama?”

“I couldn’t really tell you myself.”

“You mean you’ve never met him?”

“I have…but he’s hard to describe.”

“Is he scary?”

“Very scary.”

One of the windows in the building before them opened up.

“Watch your head,” said the monk.

“Keep your head down,” said the maiko.

Riding the water rushing into the window, the boat continued on inside the building. Filing cabinets and cardboard boxes floated down the long, river-like hallway. Paper lanterns hung on the walls. At the end of the hall, a thick pipe extended into the next building, allowing the boat to continue on its way.

This must be what it’s like being nagashi-sōmen, thought the girl.

The flow of the river gradually slowed, until they emerged in a meeting room where a single grand chair lay toppled on the ground. The waters of the river ended in that room, and they proceeded on foot up another staircase to the roof.

Here, there were many ways to get from roof to roof. They could ride in baskets along ropes, like cable cars; they could ride the powerful wind generated by giant fans and float through the air. There were even small shrines that concealed folding screens that would take you directly to the rooftop of another building when you crawled behind them. The maiko knew every one of these secret paths, guiding them from roof to roof.

“Isn’t there a ropeway that’ll take us straight to Lord Yoiyama?”

“Lord Yoiyama may only be reached by taking the proper path,” explained the maiko. “Trying to reach him in a single step is a fool’s errand.”

“Icy.”

The girl saw all sorts of rooftops.

One was covered with pinwheels, looking like a field of flowers. The monk and the maiko each picked a pinwheel and blew them as they walked along. The girl did the same. When the evening breeze blew across the roof, the glittering, many-colored field of pinwheels all spun in unison. By the time they had left the field, the girl’s head was spinning too.

Another rooftop was overgrown with bamboo. As the girl walked the narrow path leading through the thicket, she could hardly believe she was on the roof. It reminded her of visiting her grandmother’s house. The maiko explained how the roots of the bamboo sent their roots through the building, which meant that every year in spring, bamboo shoots would be budding somewhere in the building.

“My brother works in the building, you see. Every spring, he gives me some of the shoots that sprout in his office.”

As they were leaving the thicket, the girl caught fleeting glimpses of something red on the other side of the densely growing bamboo. Stopping for a closer look, she could make out the flitting shape of a red yukata.

“Hey, we’re going to leave you behind,” called the monk.

The girl hastily ran to catch up.

The next rooftop frightened her.

It was covered with countless laughing Buddha statues. The largest was three times as tall as she was, while the smallest was no more than the size of a pea. They all stared up at the darkening sky, mouths open wide with mirth. Looking at all those laughing faces, the girl held on to the monk’s hand tightly.

“Does it scare you?”

“What are all these Buddha statues doing here?”

“Because they were all collected here, over the course of a year.”

“Why were they collected?”

“That’s enough out of you. Watch your feet, or you’ll step on a Buddha.”

Other rooftops scattered around town were covered with lucky cats, or Hina dolls, or Shigaraki tanuki.

At last, the coterie made its way to a rooftop covered with round, red objects.

From a distance it had been hard to see what they were, but up close the girl realized that they were daruma. Past the innumerable daruma gathered there, a float rose high into the air, blazing with lanterns.

“What do the lanterns say?”

“They say Kingyohoko, the goldfish float.”

Something squirmed next to the girl’s foot, joining a long queue of other things making a beeline for the float.

“Hellgrammites!”

Once each member of the cohort reached Kingyohoko, it clacked to a halt and ceased to move, and one after another the hellgrammites piled on top of each other. At last the girl realized that the body of Kingyohoko was made out of a lattice of innumerable hellgrammites.

“This is why all the hellgrammites gather on Yoiyama,” the monk said. “Do you understand now?”

“Icy.”

The float was crowned with what appeared to be a giant telescope, pointed not at the sky but at the streets below. A man wearing traditional clothing and a short mustache was tinkering with the telescope, inserting a transparent orb into the wide end. After finishing up his work, the mustachioed man approached and hailed the group, raising a hand in greeting.

“What are you up to, shopkeep?” asked the monk.

“But of course, repairing the kaleidoscope. I finally managed to buy it back from the shop.”

“My, that’s wonderful news!” beamed the maiko. “When it disappeared I was worried sick what we would do without it!”

The monk leaned over and whispered in the girl’s ear. “That’s Lord Yoiyama’s kaleidoscope.”

“Kaleidoscope?”

“You know, that thing that lets you see all kinds of shapes when you rotate it. Don’t tell me you’ve never played with one?”

“Of course I have. But I’ve never seen one that big before!”

“There’s Lord Yoiyama,” said the monk, pointing next to the float. “Go say hello.”

The girl was sure that “Lord Yoiyama” was nothing more than a middle-aged man putting on airs, so she was quite surprised to discover that he was actually a little girl no older than she was. Lord Yoiyama sat on the edge of the building, dangling her feet idly in the air. As the girl approached through the field of daruma and approached, Lord Yoiyama turned her head and smiled.

In her red yukata, she looked just like a goldfish.

　　　　　　　◯

After prodding the girl towards Lord Yoiyama, the monk and the maiko vanished.

“Here comes the koi!” Lord Yoiyama exclaimed, an enchanting smile splitting her face as she pointed towards the eastern sky.

A distant sound like thunder rolled over the roofscape. A moment later, the girl saw a spout of water erupt from the roof of the brown building that she had been in only minutes earlier, and a gigantic koi burst through the mist into the night sky. It was so mindbogglingly huge that she could clearly see its round mouth gulping open and closed as it traced a leisurely arc through the air, its belly turning upward towards the sky in the midst of a somersault. Watching as it twisted its body and sent a shower of glimmering scales through the air, the girl was reminded of a gymnast she had once seen on TV. Passing through the silver mist, the koi transformed into a dragon. Its lithe, shimmering body wriggled between power lines and water tanks, occasionally dipping down into the crevasses separating the buildings, all the while holding its fearsome head high.

“There, there,” Lord Yoiyama said, picking up two or three wobbling daruma and hurling them through the air like a shot putter.

The daruma tumbled through the air and landed in the mouth of the dragon, which crushed them between its teeth like they were candy apples. A rush of burning wind bowled the girl over as the dragon passed over ahead, bringing with it a stench not unlike mashed crawfish, though Lord Yoiyama’s feet remained firmly planted on the rooftop.

“More! More!” she cackled, her long hair streaming in the wind as she continued to toss daruma to the dragon, which looped over in the sky and doubled back for more.

“There’s nothing to be frightened of,” remarked Lord Yoiyama, while the girl remained sprawled on the ground, terrified out of her wits. “It may look like a dragon, but inside it’s really just a koi.”

“That doesn’t make it any less scary!” the girl said, awestruck.

After feeding for some time, the dragon flew up high into the sky, its hunger apparently satiated. In a moment it had shrunk to the size of an earthworm.

“It looks so small now!”

“It’ll be back, once it’s hungry again. We’ve got plenty of food beside daruma ready for it.”

“I never thought I’d see anything like that!”

“There are plenty more interesting things I can show you!”

Lord Yoiyama took the girl up to the kaleidoscope on top of the float.

“Take a peek!”

As the girl peered through the lens, Lord Yoiyama cranked a handle attached to the kaleidoscope.

With a loud rumble, the kaleidoscope started to turn. Scenes from Yoiyama appeared one after another before the girl—parade floats blazing with lights—street stalls—alleys overflowing with sightseers—shifting and transforming into countless patterns. Weeping children separated from their parents, men wearing yukata wiping sweat away from their brows, young couples holding hands: all appeared and disappeared within her roiling vision.

Spellbound, the girl stared and stared, oblivious to the passage of time.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Lord Yoiyama murmured.

The girl tore her eyes from the kaleidoscope.

The darkening sky was stippled a queer mix of cerulean and pink. Night had approached unnoticed while the girl had been staring into the kaleidoscope, and now the lights of the city were rising up to meet it. The sounds of Yoiyama could be heard in the distance. The girl was unnerved by how dark it had gotten.

“Look.” Lord Yoiyama pointed to the west. “They’ve already reached Aburanokōji Street.”

The bumpy skyline was filled with pinpricks of light thrown off by rows of market stalls that threatened to overflow the rooftops.

“When the stalls get here, that’s when Tenguhoko will come. My job is to watch over the town like this from Kingyohoko.”

“Hm,” the girl frowned. “What’ll you do when Yoiyama ends?”

“Yoiyama never ends.”

“Yes it will. It only lasts ‘til the end of today.”

“We never leave Yoiyama. Yesterday was Yoiyama, tomorrow will be Yoiyama, and the day after tomorrow will be Yoiyama too. Yoiyama lasts forever, so we will stay here forever too.”

“We…you mean there’s other Lord Yoiyamas?”

“One in all, all in one.” Lord Yoiyama grinned. “And so shall you be.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are here. That means you are Lord Yoiyama, too.”

Lord Yoiyama produced a small, vermilion-lacquered bowl. It was covered with a lid, and the water that dribbled out from underneath formed itself into round beads, like glass marbles, and floated up through the air.

“Aren’t you thirsty?”

The girl shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

Lord Yoiyama opened her mouth wide, like the koi, and swallowed one of the translucent silver beads that hung in the air.

“Delicious,” she pronounced, offering the water to the girl once again.

“I don’t want any!” the girl said. As she backed away, she tripped on one of the daruma rolling around on the ground and fell flat on her backside. Lord Yoiyama’s face was pale like a Japanese doll, and though they were the same height, she seemed to tower far over the girl.

“If you drink this, I’ll give you balloons, goldfish, as many as you want.”

“I said I don’t want any!” the girl said. “Forget it, I’m leaving!”

“What a shame…Yoiyama is just beginning…neverending Yoiyama…”

“It’s late. I’m going to get my sister.”

“Don’t worry about that. She will be here soon enough.”

The smile on Lord Yoiyama’s face filled the girl with an unbearable terror. Hardly aware of what she was doing, she grabbed the largest daruma she could reach and flung it through the air. It struck the kaleidoscope with a low gong sound.

Lord Yoiyama exclaimed in surprise and looked back. Seeing the glass bead rolling out of the kaleidoscope, she hastily scrambled after it.

The girl got up and leaped from the side of Kingyohoko onto the roof, kicking daruma out of her way in her flight. As she ran, she almost fancied that the daruma were all screaming as they rolled along.

She reached the edge of the roof, not looking back, and found the monk and the mustachioed man already there. Beside them stood the maiko, holding two balloons.

“What an impossible child!” the maiko laughed.

“High time you went back,” said the monk, tying the balloons around the girl’s waist. “Two balloons should be enough for your weight. Put too many on, and you could find yourself floating all the way to Lake Biwa.”

He lifted her up over the edge of the building. Looking down, the girl saw the narrow alley far below.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson. Don’t go following the first damn person you meet.”

“Even if they’ve got something you want!”

A gentle release from the monk, and the girl found herself slowly floating away, sinking lower and lower. Above her, she saw the three figures leaning over the edge of the roof watching her descent.

“Thank you!” she called. “I’m going to get my sister!”

“Best hurry!” said the maiko.

“No wasting time finding her, you hear?” shouted the monk.

　　　　　　　◯

Touching down at the bottom of the dingy alley, the girl dashed off in the direction where the sounds were liveliest. The balloons tied to her waist made her body much lighter, allowing her to run along with the greatest of ease. Flying out of the alley, she was dazzled by the deluge of Yoiyama lights that poured over her.

Where could her sister be?

The girl glided along the currents through the crowds. As she approached a crossroads in front of a tobacco shop, she saw the girls in red yukata running across the street in front of her. And running with them, letting the girls pull her along by the hand, was the girl’s sister.

Dazed, the girl followed after them. The balloons tied to her waist made her nimble, yet the girls, swimming in front of her like goldfish, were nimbler still. They squeezed through even the tiniest gaps in the crowd, running further and further ahead. Though her sister was normally slow of foot, somehow the girl couldn’t seem to catch up. The sight of those girls dancing just out of reach infuriated the girl.

On and on the alleys went; it seemed as if there was no end to Yoiyama. The girl feared that those girls meant to take her sister into the very depths of Yoiyama.

“Don’t go with them!” she screamed out of desperation, but her voice was swallowed up by the cacophony of the festival.

As she passed by Koiyama, she noticed a large number of people in the alley happily holding balloons. Light from the stalls glinted off the scales of the goldfish floating inside the jostling orbs.

No sooner had the girls in red yukata run past than, one by one, all of the balloons burst silently, the rubber peeling back like the skin peeling off a grape. The tengu water ruptured into smaller bubbles and scattered to the four corners of the wind, and countless goldfish floated up between the buildings into the sky. The street was filled with cries of astonishment as people gawked up at the spectacle.

“No!” the girl cried, but indifferent to her pleas, both of her balloons split open, and with the escape of her goldfish into the Yoiyama sky, her body suddenly felt as heavy as if it were made of lead. In no time at all she was drenched with sweat.

Thinking that she had lost them for good, her eyes brimmed with tears, but then she saw them vanishing into the entryway of an alley between the buildings.

It was a narrow path, hemmed in by the grey walls of the adjacent buildings, paved with stone.

In the darkest reaches of the pitch black alley burned a single gate lamp, its solitude making it all the more conspicuous. From deeper within came the sounds of the girls’ muffled laughter and skipping on the stone tiles. But few rays of light from the festival made it this far into the gloomy alley, faintly illuminating the sleeves of the red yukata fluttering around in the dark.

The girls began to rise into the indigo sky one by one, just like the goldfish escaping the balloons.

“Come on!” the girl heard a cheerful voice say. In the alley ahead, one of the figures took another girl’s hand and kicked the floor clumsily.

It was her sister.

The girl mustered every ounce of strength in her body and jumped off the stone floor, grabbing her sister’s ankle and keeping her from floating away. Her sister kicked her legs wildly, trying to escape, but the girl held on tenaciously.

Hearing someone cry out “Sister!”, the girl looked up. Seeing her sister reaching her hand down, she grabbed it and pulled with all her might. Like goldfish congregating around fish food, the other girls floated down towards her sister and started to remove the pins that held her hair in place. A warm, damp wind gusted from the inner reaches of the alley, blowing her sister’s hair this way wildly. Without warning her sister’s weight returned, and the two of them tumbled down to the ground.

Even as the girl helped her sister up, one of the girls continued to try to grab her sister, her red yukata swirling in the air, a chilling smile on her face. The girl’s mind went blank with fury, and she gave the girl a resounding slap on the cheek. The girl in the yukata did not flinch, but merely floated away, still wearing that same smile.

“You know you shouldn’t have gone with them,” the girl chided. “And I thought you were a crybaby!”

“I’m sorry,” her sister whispered.

Embracing her sister, the girl watched the girls depart into the sky.

All of those girls had the face of Lord Yoiyama.

“All in one, one in all,” the girl whispered.

　　　　　　　◯

The girl ran hand in hand with her sister, and before she knew it they had come out onto the broad expanse of Karasuma Street. They sat down, blending in with the multitude of people who were seated eating all sorts of street foods from the stalls.

For a time they did not speak.

The girl squeezed her sister’s hand tightly, and her sister returned the squeeze.

After a while, the girl’s sister turned to her and began to ramble.

They talked about the recital in May, the fun they had eating their packed lunch in the dressing room backstage, like they were on a field trip. Later on, they had stood behind the curtains in the wings, watching the older students perform. They both liked watching from the shadows by the stage much more than watching from the seats. It felt almost magical. The thought that one day, they too might be able to dance like that, and become part of that spectacle, sent a thrill through them.

“What do you think we’ll be performing at next year’s recital?”

They chattered on, sitting on the sidelines of Yoiyama.

Having calmed down, they stood up at the same time and walked to the middle of Karasuma Street, silently observing the festivities growing more raucous by the moment. The streets twinkled with the lights of the stalls, and far off in the distance between the buildings, Kyoto Tower glowed like a candle.

“Let’s go home,” her sister said.

Clasping hands tightly, the two girls set off at a run for the white, ivy-covered house where their mother was waiting for them, leaving behind the Yoiyama night.