<span style="color: #BFBFFF"><span style="font-size: 87%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="text-align: center;">The trail was slowly being reclaimed by the forest around it, or at least it looked that way to Colm. The ground itself was laid with lazily spaced stones and the occasional wooden strut set deep into the earth to act as a step up the slow incline that could have been there for hundreds or years or barely a decade, but the way the branches of the trees on either side of the path stretched across the track toward one another brought to mind an absence of humanity. Someplace forgotten. To his left the Katsura river bubbled in the fierce golden light of the setting sun and the leaves rustle in the faint Autumn breeze. The crisp air has begun to turn chilly now that the heat of the day isn’t out in full force and the combined effect of the lengthening shadows with the near silence send a wash of goosebumps over Colm’s skin. The sounds of birds and human life are deadened here, like the Sea of Trees at the foot of Mount Fuji, though the forest is just as beautiful here. The lava flows of Aokigahara that turns the ground into a treacherous minefield of roots and caves is missing, but the quietly magical nature of the place is no less tangible and Colm mentally berates himself for his decision not to wear a jacket. It lies buried somewhere in the depths of his pack and while it’s cool out the steady climb over the terrain will only leave him sweaty were he wearing added layers. <br/><br/>Slowly the sharp right angles barely perceptible through the screen of branches and leaves begins to come into focus. The path widens languidly, stretching to allow for more carefully placed flat riverstones sunk into the earth as a spread of wooden structures emerge from woodland. Unexpectedly Colm finds himself standing in what has to be the wide entrance to a ryokan, with a number of large traditional Japanese buildings set out before him. They are all incredibly beautiful, with sliding screen doors and multiple regal rooftops. Either by advantage or by man made design an off-shooting stream of the Katsura runs directly through the main hub of the buildings so that many of the porches and balconies directly overhang or are built out onto the water. Flashes of bright orange and white in the stream announce the presence of Koi fish and there is a stately air of tranquility, reflection...and loneliness. Everything is still and quiet, there is no movement in the windows. Like the path he’d taken to stumble on the ryokan, it feels as though this place could have been equally likely to have stood here for a year or for hundreds of them. <br/><br/>Something shuffles in the trees. <br/><br/>The hair at the nape of Colm’s neck stands on end with the feeling that someone...something is watching him. A shiver coursed down his spine as the tall young man peered into the fiery golden swathes of light penetrating the forest, searching for the source of the movement. Could be an animal, but more likely a person. Surely the place couldn’t be entirely abandoned, the path here is clear of leaves and the polished floorboards of the inn porches gleam with care. Someone must act as custodian of the inn, even if it is sporadically. He wonders idly if the owners would be looking for an extra pair of hands to help out.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">“Hello?”</span> Colm calls, first in English before correcting himself to Japanese. Even after almost full year of being in Japan he forgets himself, particularly if his nerves get the better of him or if he’d been drinking. Colm had a beer with his lunch, but he’s no lightweight  and he scowls at the thought that the simple movement of leaves could have him feeling so jittery. Too many late nights tutoring online, his nerves are shot and he needs sleep. <br/><br/>At first Colm thinks he’s being ignored, or the sound was merely a trick of his imagination. He gets no response. Belatedly, he recalls the creepy ancient folklore Kanako had taken great pleasure in wording Colm up on during the Tenjin Matsuri; about places forgotten by time and left to spirits both benign and malicious. He resolutely pushes that thought aside.<br/>Movement in the trees draws his attention as a figure moves towards the clearing, sending a wave of relief mixed with amusement at how easily he’d freaked himself out. His greeting dies on his lips when he catches a glimpse of the figure’s face. <br/>At first sight Colm assumes she is wearing a mask, her face is somehow too pointed and bizarrely beautiful to be real, but then her eyes crinkle with laughter. He blinks in surprise, disturbed to find that her features appear to shift in increasingly frightening ways in a trick of the light, and forces himself to don an open expression. <span style="font-weight: bold">“Good afternoon,”</span> He called, walking towards the woman with a smile. <span style="font-weight: bold">"I hope I'm not disturbing you," </span><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://i.imgur.com/GudIZXn.jpg?1">[ img ]</a></div></span></span></span>