EXTRA: Sayuri and the Ōnyūdō

Sayuri drifted aimlessly after parting from the boy, the supernatural being, as if she were running away.
Then one day, on a mountain path deep in the hills, she encountered an Ōnyūdō twice her height.

After exchanging a brief greeting, she vented her frustration, saying, “I went through something awful.
”The Ōnyūdō listened with a laugh, saying, “That’s some bad luck,” but he seemed especially interested when she mentioned that she “practiced walking.”

Hearing that, Sayuri broke into a beaming smile.
“You’ll be surprised! I’m really, really good at it!”

She gave a light, floating hop and came to a stop about ten steps away from the Ōnyūdō.

“Here I go!”

As Sayuri waved her hand high in the air, the Ōnyūdō waved back lightly, saying, “Yeah.”

Sayuri took a big, deep breath, then stepped forward, one step, then another.
She looked a little stiff, but she managed to reach the Ōnyūdō and stop right in front of him.

“Hehe—So? How was that?”

She puffed out her chest proudly.
However, the Ōnyūdō smiled at her and said, “Sorry, but could you make way for me?”

“Huh?”

Sayuri let out a bewildered cry.

“When you’re walking, things like that happen sometimes. Now then—make way.”
He was smiling cheerfully, as if enjoying her reaction.

“I see… yeah, I get it.”
Smiling with a sly look, as though she had understood his intention, she slid smoothly sideways and quietly cleared the path.

“Hey—there’s no one who does that.”
The Ōnyūdō rocked his body as he burst out laughing.

“Wha—then what am I supposed to do?”

“This is how you do it.”
The Ōnyūdō walked around Sayuri, deliberately showing her as he did.

“Whoa! I didn’t think of that…”
She pressed a hand to her face and exaggerated her frustration.

After that, as they talked a little more, he offered some advice, saying that it would be better not to show herself at human festivals.
Sayuri wasn’t convinced and complained, but he explained the danger, saying, “If a child comes running up from behind, you’ll pass right through them and be exposed.”

“This isn’t that village—there’s no way that would happen!”
Sayuri argued back forcefully.
However, the Ōnyūdō said quietly.

“Human children run without watching where they’re going. That’s just how they are.”

It wasn’t meant to blame anyone; it was a gentle admonition, spoken out of concern for Sayuri.

“I see—yeah, you’re right.
Then I’ll enjoy it while staying out of sight.
Thanks. Bye.”

“Yeah—take care.”

After exchanging farewells, Sayuri soared high into the air.
She stretched her whole body wide in midair, then looked up at the sky and smiled.

The Sayuri who had been worrying about the village was gone.
Now, all that remained in her was a bright sense of anticipation—wondering what kind of fun awaited her next.