I live in Yokohama, on a hill near the sea. There's a huge Zen temple complex nearby populated with ravens. Years ago, on a stormy night a young woman was found murdered there. The priests pray for peace within her soul. Yet, occasionally, on a warm stormy night, taxi drivers say they pick up a woman in drenched clothes asking to take them to the hill. When they get there and turn around for the fare the seat is empty save for a puddle of rain.