A curious little man sits in my bathroom. A disgusting thing, nude and hunched. His slick skin, a pimply red. Greasy hair congealing on his head. Large black eyes in an ecstatic haze. A rotted gold smile smeared across his face. He scurries to my shower on all fours. Tiny hands, nails cracked, peel the curtain back. His mouth opens and his tongue slithers to the showerhead. Around and around, he licks like an ice cream cone. His tongue flicking harder and faster, making the showerhead gleam. Next, the walls and shower floor feel the power of his tongue. Second course is the tub. He crawls over and slides the cover back. As he smells the water, the little man’s head rocks from side to side. His tongue stirs the water. Treating it like ramen broth, he slurps the tub dry. He licks his lips while his bloated belly jiggles. The little man gazes at the cobwebbed cornered ceiling and climbs his way up. I shut the door and ran. At the front door, my hand spasms as I touch the knob. My chest, heavy and tight, as my heart drums faster than I thought it could, and I drop to my knees. I let the knob go, stagger to my bedroom, lock the door and cover myself with blankets. As usual, I calm down. This happens every time I try to leave. Under the covers, a single thought occurs. I wish I never became a shut-in. Mother told me to clean or an akaname would come. Four years have passed since I shut out the world, and I have no one to call for help. In the stories, the akaname cleaned and left. This yokai is harmless, it will leave soon. I listen to it scurry about the bathroom as sleep comes. I awake to a foul odor. The smell of old diapers and mildew hit me in steamy waves. A playful whisper tickles my ear, “I finished cleaning your bathroom and toilet. I got a taste of you. You’re still dirty and I need to clean you. Peropero (Lick, Lick).”