Rising Sun and the Golden Moon

Chapter 2

Stacy's POV

“Welcome passengers to Haneda International airport. We thank you for flying with us and hope to fly with you again soon.”

The broken English from the flight attendant was incredible. Incredible to the fact that I didn’t understand much. Most of the time she was talking, I honestly thought she was stuttering. But apparently, from what I observed, the other humans on board understood her.

Once I got through customs with my luggage, of course, I rushed to the restroom. After my anxiety attack, I went to look for the Shaman. I don’t even remember his name. According to Alpha Kaden, he’s a werebear and an old one at that. He travels the world helping other packs lending his wisdom and power to aid the packs. I turned on my phone, pulling up a picture my Alpha sent me about the Shaman. Yep, werebear, for sure. Large, plump face with a full beard and thick, long hair. Not the sexy long hair, oh no. More like the ‘I haven’t used a comb before’ type of thick, long hair. Looking around the exit of our meeting spot, I couldn’t find the Shaman. Great. Foreign country, with a strange language, and tons, and I mean tons of small, short humans.

With my 5’8 height, I felt like a giant tiptoeing around ants.

Suddenly, my wolf perks up. “Go to your right, take the escalators to the train” “And where have you been Kira?” My wolf Kira hasn’t been around for years since my dad died. I don’t even remember the last time I shifted. Now she expects me to listen to her?

“Kira?” I called her again.

“I’ve been sleeping, now I just woke up to the most addicting scent. If you don’t follow it, I’ll take over and follow this delectable scent myself” I roll my eyes at her impatience and follow her directions. Thank the Moon Goddess we can buy a ticket in English. But that smell. Who or what was it? It can’t be my mate, can it? On the train, we lose track of the smell as we get off at a place called Hamamatsu-cho Station. Getting off the train was more difficult than getting on. Some of the people even bump into me as we exit the train. With small humans passing me, it looks like they are rushing in all directions heading to work. Why are they in such a hurry to go to work? With my anxiety about to kick in as I look around on the platform for a restroom sign, the Shaman appears just a few steps from me. Tall, big, maybe like 6’8 or 6’9. And round. Very round. Compared to the people around us, we both stick out like sore thumbs.

“It’s good to meet you, Stacy. I’m Frank.” He slowly approaches me.

“How did you know I was going to be here? Or where to find me?” I ask, puzzled as to how he found me. I left our meeting place at the airport. He lightly chuckled at my questions.

“I’ll explain everything soon. How about over some tea?” He gently took my luggage from me and walked, well, more like stomped out of the station to a nearby cafe. I quickly followed behind the bear for fear of getting lost in this urban jungle.

At a nearby cafe filled with sweet smells of pastries and coffee, with the dark furniture being highlighted by the bright sunlight.

“How was your flight, kid?” Shaman Frank asks.

“My flight was ok. It’s so crowded here.” I complained. I can feel another anxiety attack raging to surface.

Sensing my distress, Shaman Frank helps me focus on our conversation rather than on our surroundings.

“As you know, I’ll be helping you to control your anxiety. In exchange, I’ll like you to teach as an English teacher at one of my schools. It’s teaching at an elementary school. My company outsources English teachers to public schools. You’re free to your location. You have paid training here in Tokyo.

“If I want to transferred to a different location or different city, would that be a problem?” I needed to know in case my anxiety creates problems at work. Last thing I want are small human children hovering over me during an anxiety attack.

“It’s not a problem at all.” Shaman Frank states, sipping his dark coffee.

Hmm.. so I’m teaching English to even smaller human children while I learn about controlling my anxiety from a guy who could pass as a bum. Lucky me. Notice my sarcasm?

While I am calming down a bit at the cafe with Shaman Frank keeping me company, I find out that Frank has been living in Japan for over 30 years. He told me stories of him living in Europe for 30 years also, before Japan. Yet he looks to be around 50 years old. How old is this guy? I guess being a Shaman has its perks. Using magic to live a long life. Once my nerves have calmed down, Frank leads me to what explains to be a shrine that is hidden among the narrow alleyways of this obscenely crowded city. I should probably take a few pictures of the buildings and ally way for my mom back home.

After I take a few photos, Shaman patiently waits for me at the shrine to catch up to him. We silently walk towards what looks like a double post and lintel made of stone. Shaman explains that this is a Torii gate. With a small, short, stoned path that leads from the Torii gate to a dollhouse. Or at least the size of the stone house looks like a dollhouse.

“Um Frank, where are we?” I look around, puzzled at how small the shrine is. Two foxes flank each side of the small unkept path as we walked towards a small-sized, stoned-cut dollhouse building with some light brown, bread-looking thing on a plate in front. Frank explains to me that the bread-looking thing is called Abura-age (fried tofu) and that foxes like to eat it.

Really? I think to myself.

“This is where we will be staying for the night,” Frank explains looking back at me, gesturing to the stone dollhouse.

“WTF!” both me and Kira cry out loud together.