Thirty-three hours in second class to get here. Small and slender, I didn’t mind the open seating, but the need to lean away from the overweight, sweating-like-a-water-buffalo kappa who took up the middle seat had me wanting to transform. I bit my tongue and forced back the resulting visions of blood scented claws and splattered gore that would result if I gave into that urge. Half way through this hell-bound trip to the mortal realms, I gestured to the kappa and the chain-smoking priest in the aisle seat that I had to get up. I worked my way through the damned until I reached the toilet. Blood leaked out from underneath the door and the sight of a beheaded fox demon had me wanting to abandon the physical urges of my mortal half. But instead, I stepped carefully over the blood patches and locked the door.<br/><br/>Now though, we’d landed. Processing through customs proved shockingly efficient. I kept expecting to be trundled onto the next flight back to hell, but my informant’s instructions proved accurate. The forged papers and perfectly calibrated guanxi got me past customs and into the mortal world.<br/><br/>I didn’t bother to claim my luggage as I had ample resources in my carryon for at least a day or two. Checking into a youth hostel, I washed away the sweat of my trip off my body and the gore of hell from my hair. Fresh underwear, a cute black and white checked skirt paired with a white blouse, and a darling pair of black leather boots had me feeling girlish. I brushed out my coal black hair and put on a pair of sunglasses.<br/><br/>Then I caught an uber to the city center and walked the few blocks remaining to the Noir café. The purpose of my  trip, my destination, I thought as I acknowledged the homeless man and dropped two heavy copper coins embossed with the pale horse of death and sealed by the prince of Satan into the plastic bucket. “Hãy để tôi không bị bỏ lỡ,” I whispered. Then I walked in and ordered something decadent and wickedly sweet; my first taste of sweetness in such a long, long time.