Morning if one could measure time in the City Beneath dawned subtle and strange. A muted azure sifted through translucent paper windows, painting Yuto's guest room with light unlike anything he'd known above. The harmonics of bells and flutes filtered in from distant plazas, blending with the gentle crunch of someone eating.
Koma was already awake not that Yuto saw him sleep since arriving tossing leftover dumpling bites into his mouth while peering out a crack in the window. "You made history last night, kid. Most humans who slip past the barrier wake up back home convinced it was just a fever dream. The Assembly's talking about you all over. I even heard the carp spirits are placing bets on whether you'll survive the first week."
Yuto forced a nervous laugh, stretching the ache from his shoulders. He washed his face in a shallow basin as a festival perfume smoke, river water, faint cherry blossom floated in from the garden. He watched his familiar reflection ripple, uncertain if he was seeing the same Yuto Arai as yesterday.
Before he finished, a young fox spirit in indigo robes appeared outside the door, bowing just enough to signal deference but not submission. "The Assembly awaits. Please bring your lantern and come with me."
Heart thumping, Yuto slipped the lantern's cord around his wrist, feeling the pulse of power inside it a subtle warmth, as though a heartbeat answered his own. Koma waddled nearby, tail swaying. "Let's not keep the ancient immortals waiting. Spirits get grumpy before their mid-morning tea."
The trio moved through winding arcades and open bridges, lanterns swaying overhead and markets bustling with dawn trade. Spirit vendors called greetings, their shapes flickering between animal and human as they hawked their wares: moss-wrapped trinkets, luck charms, folded feathers glowing with inner moonlight. Some watched Yuto with open curiosity; others looked away, wary or envious. Koma offered sly commentary under his breath as they passed:
"See that old crow? Named every star in three constellations but can't remember where he put his own left shoe…"
"Careful near the river, that's tanuki territory my cousins cheat at dice."
Yuto's anxiety simmered just beneath the surface, but awe began to edge out fear. This world, vibrant and familiar in some impossible way, already felt as if it was an unremembered home.
They entered the Assembly's main sanctum a vast auditorium domed by shifting starlight, its columns carved into spiraled dragons, its walls covered in calligraphy that shimmered and rippled as one. The council gathered in layers of cloud-like mist and silk: the antlered spirit presiding, the fox-masked dignitary at their left, others whose eyes suggested days stretching far into myth.
The antlered spirit's voice sang out, blending thunder and wind. "Yuto Arai, true-named in lantern light. You have faced the first threshold. Are you prepared to accept the task of Mediator the bridge and shield for both our worlds?"
Yuto's knees wobbled, but he met their gaze. "If my name's on the lantern, I'm ready to try."
A ripple of approval, or perhaps relief, passed through the assembly. The fox-masked dignitary intoned, "Each Mediator receives a quest a journey designed to test resolve, wisdom, and heart. Ours is a world trembling on the edge. Strange storms have troubled the city. Shadows cross into the human world and sometimes fail to return. Our harmony weakens."
The antlered elder continued, "Your first task: descend to the River of Forgotten Paths. A yokai is said to be haunting both its banks and the dreams of Tokyo's children above. Find what troubles the river. Restore balance, if it can be done. If not report what you discover, no matter how dire."
Koma's ears drooped, but his tone stayed brisk for Yuto's sake. "That river's haunted during festival time. Unlucky for the Assembly to send a first-timer, but it means they trust you or expect you to do what others can't."
The Assembly's leader bestowed a slim charm of woven red and gold thread. "For safe passage. Not all who walk that current find their way back. Go bravely; the eyes of worlds watch."
As the session ended, some council members drifted closer. The silver-haired spirit leaned in, her voice as soft as wind through pine: "You are not alone, even when lost. The city remembers you, even if you do not remember all of it yet."
Koma escorted Yuto to the riverside, his mood mixing pride, anxiety, and a little envy for the attention. The city's lower quarter unfolded before them, spirits trailing translucent umbrellas, barges ferrying blossoms and fortunes. At the river's edge, the water shimmered between blue and gray, reflecting both the city and fleeting afterimages of distant Tokyo skyscrapers overlaying pagodas, police sirens echoing with temple gongs.
"Remember what the Assembly said," Koma muttered, settling onto a stone. "Trust your senses, but not just your eyes. Yokai are trickier than kitsune when the river fogs rise. And if you see coins floating on the current don't touch them."
Yuto stood on the dock, lantern steady in his grip. He felt the river's pull, a song laced with childhood fears and hopes, memories that vibrated close to waking.
He stepped aboard a waiting spirit-barge, Koma at his side, and called softly across the shifting water:
"I am the Mediator, lantern-lit and lantern-named. If there is pain in these currents, show me. If someone is lost, call out. I will answer."
As the barge moved off and the fog thickened, the world changed. Lights blinked in and out of focus faces, memories, shadows. Yuto gripped the charm and his lantern.
Something deep in the mist replied: a whisper, faint but persistent, asking not for escape, but for remembrance.
And so the Journey of the River began, with Yuto Arai a boy forever changed ready to step into the currents of forgotten stories, where both his world and the spirit world awaited his courage and compassion.
End of Chapter 8