This is how you write a book about yokai. Yokai are, of course, the supernatural given form. Monsters of our own imaginations, mysteries of daily life, the strange, the unusual, the scary, who are assumed to have their own whims, and their own rules. Throw in a little non-linear storytelling that breaks all its own internal structure, then wind it up and let it go. Anyone with a little knowledge about yokai will recognize the title as a riff on that most famous of yokai scrolls, Hyakki Yagyō, the Night Parade of 100 Demons. Jinpachi, called Hachiko by Harada, has an seemingly endless of parade of unreal experiences, as the inhabitants of another layer of existence reach out for him over and over. We learn that Jinpachi is gay, as he offhandledly tells his wife that he did not have a few pages ago.

Jinpachi isn't a very fully formed character. We know he's a book designer and very dedicated to that craft, and he bind books as a hobby, but he's actually rather dull. The only humor in the volume comes from this staid, slightly boring man having extraordinary, bizarre and sometimes terrifying experiences. He's captivated by “Ghost Sensei,” who is clearly his type. The reverse is also true, but perhaps not equivalent. Harada is himself mysterious, and the name he picks for Jinpachi is a prank, as he leads the younger man through the alleyways of the esoteric world of the yokai. He admits to collecting the rare and occult, but clearly sees Jinpachi as a way to get his fix and isn't above setting the younger man up a bit. We do know that, for the purposes of this book, Harada is not married, but as cute a crush as Jinpachi has on him, it's unlikely that he's think of Jinpachi in any specific way, except as a key for his hobby. He's always smiling, but it impossible to truly know what the older man is thinking. Unless, as he says, he's just having a bit of fun.

I mentioned that the story is non-linear. In my opinion that is the only way to deal with tales of the supernatural. If time and space and reality are not part of their worlds, then it only makes sense that any human drawn into that other world experiences time differently…and not just in that straightforward Urashima Taro way, either. No, what really works best here is that nothing makes sense, and none of it is consistent, in a way that keep both Jinpachi and the reader on edge.

The art is superb, building creepy and mysterious situations out of small things and large. A towel. A wallet, a book, all become key to seeing too much. There are many ties to Japanese folklore here. Items develop or are imbued with emotions from the people that use them and, even when the emotion is not negative, if you're not the right person, the thing might not want you. But even if you're in the right place at the right time, the needs and desire of things may be inscrutable to humans.

Jinpachi doesn't have it easy, these are beings whose motivations are not human, although they derive from humans. It's possible that out protagonist may be changed or trapped, although of course he never is. But what really brings the book home are the idea of neighbors. There is a word I love to think about, especially when traveling—sonder. Sonder means the realization that everyone you see has full lives that you know nothing about. When I stare out a train window, and consider that every apartment in a building has people who are the stars of their own lives, and know as little about you as you do about them. What do we really know about our neighbors? I know their names, their kids' names, but not their inner dreams and life goals. In this book the yokai are also our neighbors, as real as the people who we know live in that apartment or house that we never see. This is a central concept of this series, and one played for quite brilliant effect.

This volume is also a lot of fun if you're the “it's all connected” conspiracy-type. Everything in Jinpachi's life is now connected, whether he wants it or not. As Harada says, Now that the unseen have seen Jinpachi, they really like him and are coming for him hard. Everything is connected in a way that stretches the possible so that the impossible makes as much sense.

The final ingredient, so to speak, is food. I'm hardly the only one who has noticed that manga (and likely manga artists) are often very food-focused. This volume is not about food in any meaningful way, but quotidian food is centered in several of the chapters. Rice becomes a whole plot point toward the end of the book, and while that chapter is not centered in hunger, there is a whole huge life story built into the idea of eating rice that is portrayed quietly in a panel or two, in a truly masterful bit of storytelling. This was just a really excellent, creepy, fun volume of stories that are strange enough to not make any particular sense. Absolutely recommend for cold winter evening reading time. Perhaps make some toast and coffee while you read it.