Gaijin stepped onto the balcony of his hotel room, the better to admire the moon. Her round and silvery face gazed down, turning his too-bright shirt and garish trousers into a crazy pattern of blacks and whites. He let his gaze sink to include the mists rising from the river and the wooded park along the near bank. It was abnormally hot, even for July. The air scarcely moved where he was standing. Maybe it would be cooler down by the river, he thought.

He rode the elevator down to the lobby and deposited his key with the clerk. The clerk looked at him with unease and explained that it was Obon and even Gaijin should not be abroad on this special night. This is the night when the ghosts are free to roam, and some of them are hungry. Gaijin waved these superstitions aside and said that he needed some air. The clerk then cautioned him to stay to the lighted paths and not to stray too far from the hotel.

Out he went into the night, striding along the lantern-lit path to the park at the river’s edge. The air was indeed cooler, but it was also quite humid. The distance between lanterns grew further and further until Gaijin discovered he had passed the last one. The moon and the mist conspired to lend a silvery sameness to everything. He turned to retrace his steps and found only a confusing array of black tree trunks and branches. With a shrug, he resumed his former direction, knowing that the next hotel could be no more than a hundred paces ahead.

Soft sobbing brought Gaijin to a halt. It seemed to be coming from the edge of the river. He parted the flowering bushes and stepped cautiously in that direction. In less than a moment, he stepped out onto a grassy bank and beheld a young girl seated on a stone. O-jochu, why do you cry? is what Gaijin asked. With a start, she looked up; her face the pasty white of the geisha, her raven hair streaming down her back and her silvery tears running down her cheeks. She told him she was lost and alone and frightened, and Gaijin took pity on her. He suggested they could go back to the hotel and he would send her home in a taxi. Besides, she was not unattractive, even though the tears had smeared her makeup into a strange parody of a girl’s face. He offered his hand to help her rise.

Three-inch talons grasped his wrist and the "O-jochu" stood. Taller than Gaijin it rose in the misty moonlight. He fought to free himself from the iron grip. The talons pierced his flesh and the blood welled up around them. The creature bent and lapped up the ruby droplets with a long and narrow tongue. It smiled at Gaijin and then opened its mouth. Narrow lips stretched wide and then wider to reveal a row of needle-sharp fangs. A charnel smell escaped the gaping maw as it casually nipped off the head of Gaijin. Then, with great relish, it devoured his entire body, too-bright shirt, garish pants and all. The hungry ghost, no longer hungry, slipped back into the river, to wait another year.