Previously on Yokai Scammed My Soul:
Pigeon?
Dead.
Wig #1?
Secured. (again)
Ren?
Emotionally unstable and covered in spicy chip dust.
He crawled out of a convenience store dumpster like a raccoon who saw God and regretted it.
Cue anime- style narrator voice:
> "Our hero, having survived fiery trials, airborne slap-fu, and the wrath of a pigeon with Gucci drip, now faces... marriage?!"
~~~
Ren landed with a wet squelch and a desperate scream.
His mullet-fade glowed like a shonen protagonist's final transformation.
His Crocs? Still on. Still god-tier.
Nurarihyon appeared beside him in a puff of vape smoke, sipping sake and flipping through a bridal magazine.
||WELL WELL WELL. LOOK WHO'S ALIVE, SMELLING LIKE TRASH AND DESTINY.||
Ren, eyes squinted, spat:
"Why are you holding a wedding brochure that says ‘SEXY TANUKI BRIDES 2025'???"
Nurarihyon just winked.
||OH, NO REASON.||
Cue suspicious montage of Ren being stalked by increasingly aggressive tanuki women.
One of them had eyelashes so long they created their own wind tunnels.
He brushed them off, obviously.
Until—
He tripped over a suspiciously decorative manhole cover and...
...poof—
BAM
He lands in a fancy-ass yokai wedding venue. Cherry blossoms everywhere.
A string quartet made entirely of frogs.
A minister who looked like he was drawn by Studio Ghibli after three tequila shots.
The crowd goes wild.
Ren, blinking, said:
"...wait hold tf up—"
Suddenly, Tanuki bride entered.
Big eyes. Fluffy tail.
Voice like soft jazz dipped in honey.
||Ren-kun~~ you made it!||
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Ren stared:
"EXCUSE ME?!"
Cue instant outfit change— anime sparkle style— he's in a tux now.
Hair? Slicked back.
Crocs? Now formal edition with mini bowties on them.
Nurarihyon's voice echoed from the sakura trees:
||IT'S CALLED "DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS," RENNY. YOU'RE THE PEACE OFFERING.||
Ren stared:
"BRO I AM NOT TANUKI BAIT—"
But it's too late.
They're walking down the aisle.
Frogs are vibing.
The minister's crying. Tanuki Aunties are dabbing in the background.
The tanuki bride whispers:
||After this, we merge our spiritual energy and become one... also I get your Netflix password.||
Ren, indignantly:
"WH— NO— WAIT—"
The minister raises the sacred ramen spoon.
||Do you, Yagitsune Renji, take this tanuki to be your lawfully wedded cryptid—||
BOOOOM
The ceiling EXPLODES.
Wind. Feathers. Drama. Music swells.
Anime lighting goes MAXIMUM.
A hooded figure descends— trailing rose petals and unearned confidence.
It's—
A rival tanuki clan.
Their leader: a tanuki in leather.
Motorcycle helmet. Full JoJo pose. Voice like gravel and regrets.
||NOT ON MY WATCH, BITCHES.||
Battle erupts.
Cherry blossoms get shredded.
The bride starts throwing kunai.
Ren hides behind the frog cello.
Crocs glowing. Heart racing. Hair immaculate.
Then— BOOM— someone throws a teapot of sake into the ceremonial fire.
Fire + sake + frog orchestra =
NUCLEAR EXPLOSION.
The entire shrine BLASTS into the sky as if a mentos factory met a coke factory.
Ren sails through the air in slow-mo, screaming like an unpaid voice actor.
The tanuki bride, emotionally:
"WE COULD'VE HAD IT AAAAAALL—"
Ren mid-air:
"IMMA NEED THERAPYYYYY—"
They land.
Ren hits the ground like a Looney Tune and bounces off a noodle cart.
His Crocs absorb the impact.
Plot armor, bbg.
His wig? Still perfect.
He coughs up confetti.
Nurarihyon reappears, completely untouched, sipping bubble tea now.
||SO, WEDDING'S OFF THEN?||
Ren, exasperated:
"What gave it away? The explosion or the frog quartet's heads being on fire?"
Nuraruhyon punched him:
||YOU'RE BEING DRAMATIC.||
Then—
a scroll drops from the sky, landing with a satisfying thunk.
Nurarihyon picks it up.
Unrolls it.
Eyes widen.
||WELP. NEW LOCATION UNLOCKED.||
Ren, getting a bad feeling, said:
"If it's another volcano I'm eating this scroll."
Nurarihyon smirked:
||NEXT WIG'S IN THE SPIRIT REALM.||
Ren collapsed:
"...I don't have travel insurance."
But before Nurarihyon could whip out another cursed itinerary—
BWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMPP
The sky split open like someone accidentally sat on the TV remote controlling dimensions.
The clouds twisted. The wind went full anime.
Lightning flashed. Birds scattered.
Dramatic choral music started playing from nowhere.
Ren, rubbing his temples, said:
"Tell me that's not what I think it is."
Nurarihyon, sipping his bubble tea louder than necessary, grinned:
||AH, THE SOUND OF TRAUMA ARRIVING ON SCHEDULE.||
BANG.
The Yokai Train crashed through the goddamn skyline like a drunk Power Ranger Zord.
Its headlights screamed in kanji. Its wheels ran on pure cursed vibes.
Graffiti tags from other dimensions covered the side:
"[__] the Time Police" — "Tanuki Milf Fan Club" — "Wig Snatch Express."
It didn't stop at the station.
It made the station.
Right there.
In the middle of a ramen shop.
A conductor stepped out.
But this wasn't your average "Tickets Please" bozo.
It was a towering oni in a tight-ass uniform, ripped as hell, shades on even though it was night, exuding pure ‘you forgot your homework' energy.
He cleared his throat.
||Yagitsune Renji.||
Ren flinched.
"...Do I owe you money?"
The conductor thundered:
||YOU LEFT YOUR SOUL DEPOSIT ON THE TRAIN. AND YOUR SOCK.||
He pulled out a singular, sad little sock.
It was Ren's.
It had anime eyes on it. It was crying.
Ren, embarrassed, muttered:
"I can explain—"
He was interrupted by our conductor oni:
||NO TIME. SPIRIT REALM TRANSFER SCHEDULED.||
A portal opened behind the conductor. It crackled with eldritch sparkle.
The air smelled like lavender and trauma.
Nurarihyon giggled like a drunk raccoon.
||HOPE YOU LIKE WIGS AND EXISTENTIAL DREAD, RENNY.||
Ren backed away.
"No. Nope. I've had enough for today. First a tanuki wedding. Then a fireball frog band. I am not hopping on another cryptid clown car to hell."
The train honked.
LOUDLY.
It honked in Morse code.
||GET ON OR GET SCAMMED.||
Ren stood there. Crocs squeaking. Confetti still falling from his hoodie. Mind fried.
Soul in shambles.
Then—
He sighed. Cracked his neck.
Popped a spicy chip.
"Fine."
He turned. Faced the camera.
Anime glint in his eyes.
"Let's go steal Wig #2."
Cue epic J-rock outro. Flashbacks. Slow-motion Croc closeups. A single tanuki shedding a tear.
~~~
Meanwhile, far far away, in the spirit realm:
A shadowy figure watching Ren board the Yokai Train, smirked.
||Casus Belli||
another day of bullshit with only mild emotional scarring and chronic Croc dependency.
shoutout to the wedding frogs. gone but not forgotten.
SPIRIT REALM ARC, BABY.
we’re talkin cursed landscapes, cryptid politics, existential breakdowns, and probably a sentient wig with abandonment issues.
and for the love of god, don’t sign a marriage contract with a tanuki unless you read the fine print.
