The Kapahulu morning was like a dark painting with rain unrelenting to those foolish enough to be in it.
The pelting drops gave off a popping sound as it struck the ground, but more so as it hit people about the head and body who ran for shelter from its deluge. Standing inside the picture glass window of her noodle shop, Mrs. Reina Fujikawa sighed."You would think with this kind of weather, people would come for hot soup and noodles, but no. Nooobody like come," she absentmindedly wiped away a bit of perspiration from her forehead that wasn't there. "Five days already, the rain is like this. Might as well we close if nobody going come."
The old woman's husband, Shohei, known as Shoulders to his old war buddies, sat on a stool just inside the kitchen door, playing his shakuhachi.
"No good play, shakuhachi, when get this kine rain, you know?" Reina scolded him. "You like 'obake come inside?"
"No talk dat kine stupid stuff," Shohei stopped playing the shakuhachi long enough to wave his wife off for pestering him.
Just then, Reina spied a dark figure across the street, standing in the rain, looking directly at her. The figure walked directly toward the noodle shop without regard for oncoming traffic. He appeared to be entirely unbothered by the rain, and soon, the bell on the front door to the noodle shop rang as the dark figure entered. Putting the shakuhachi aside, Shohei called out to their one customer in a week."Irasshaimase!"
It was a well-dressed Hawaiian man with a dark purple top and black slacks. His shoes were brand new, but when Reina looked closer at him, she gasped and ran over to Shohei. "I saw him cross the street in the rain, but look! He's dry; he's not wet at all!"
Shohei shook his head, ignored his wife, and pushed past her. Approaching the Hawaiian man, Shohei asked, "Good afternoon! What you having today?"
"The largest bowl saimin you have," the Hawaiian man replied.
~
An hour later, the Hawaiian man was on his seventh bowl of Saimin, and at first, Reina and Shohei didn't mind the voracious appetite of their one and only customer for the day, but now, something seemed strange. "I saw you playing the shakuhachi when I came in. Do you mind playing something while I eat?"
"Oh, I'm not that good," Shohei laughed nervously.
"I told him no play shakuhachi when get dis kine rain," Reina also laughed nervously. "Bum-bye 'obake show up!"
The Hawaiian man's face turned deadly serious, "Play, I insist,"
"My wife told me that you walked in from the pouring rain, and yet you were dry this whole time," Shohei remarked. Are you yōkai, yurei, or 'obake? Which one? You going to hurt us?"
"Bring me more saimin, until I've had enough," the Hawaiian man said. "Then we'll see,"
By the fifteenth bowl of Saimin, the rain fell heavier than it did in the past week, so much so that it kicked up its mist, almost forming in and of itself. Reina and Shohei couldn't see anything outside their big-picture glass window. Without saying a word to one another, they knew that they had to board up the window. Turning to do so, they saw that the Hawaiian man was gone, and so were the empty bowls of Saimin. In the same second, the door to the noodle shop opened, and more Hawaiian men, along with women and children, poured in and asked for large bowls of Saimin.
Along with that, they demanded to hear Shohei play the shakuhachi. It was four in the morning by the time everyone had finally left. The elder couple made more money than they ever would during the terrible rainstorm. Enough, to close up the noodle shop and retire. However, Shohei would never play the shakuhachi again.
Reina complained about the rain interfering with the noodle shop business. The Hawaiian spirits heard her and gave her more business than she would ever need in one night.
Loved it
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