The Lonely Eagle’s Taro Mud Hot Spring Adventure

Once upon a time, there was an eagle. And he was really, really lonely.

Not the ordinary kind of lonely — the kind where he’d fly to the highest peak, shout “Hey — “ and even the echo couldn’t be bothered to reply.

“Sigh,” the eagle sighed, perching on a rock by Lemon Lake. “Even my own shadow can’t be bothered to follow me.”

Lemon Lake was bright yellow because the bottom was covered in super-sour lemon grass. And in the lake lived a shark named Shasha. But he wasn’t an ordinary shark — he was afraid of sour things.

“Don’t come any closer!” Shasha hid underwater, pinching his nose. “Last time you shed a single tear into the lake, I couldn’t eat for three days!”

The eagle felt even worse. “I can’t even cry now?”

“No way!” Shasha blew a bubble. “Go cry in a freshwater lake.”

Just then, Mayor Grape rolled by.

Actually, “rolled by” is not quite right — Mayor Grape didn’t have any feet. He moved by rolling. Mayor Grape was a giant grape, deep purple and shiny, wearing a tiny pair of gold-rimmed glasses. His expression was always dead serious.

“Ahem,” Mayor Grape rolled up to the eagle. “I heard you’re lonely?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect.” Mayor Grape lowered his voice. “A demon has blocked the Taro Mud Hot Spring. No one can bathe. I need someone who can fly, someone brave, someone who isn’t afraid of heat — “

“I can do all that!” The eagle’s eyes lit up.

“I wasn’t finished — and also, you have to be really unlucky.”

“…That I definitely can do.”

So the eagle set off.

His first teammate was… a snail.

Yes, a snail. And this snail’s name was “Fast Bro,” because he genuinely believed he was the fastest snail in the world.

“I don’t need you to carry me,” Fast Bro said seriously. “I’m fast on my own.”

“It’ll take about three years to reach the hot spring at your pace,” said the eagle.

“Then three years it is! Quality takes time!”

The eagle decided to just grab Fast Bro and fly. Fast Bro screamed the whole way: “This is cheating! This is cheating — “

The second teammate was a crab named Clampy. Clampy’s special skill was that he could walk sideways without getting dizzy, but walking straight made him dizzy. The problem? The mountain path they had to climb only went straight.

“I’m doomed,” Clampy stood there frozen. “I feel like I’m about to start spinning in place.”

Fast Bro stuck his head out from the eagle’s beak: “You take your time. I’ll wait for you up there.”

“You shut up, you snail!”

The third teammate was the most ridiculous — a dinosaur.

Well, not a real dinosaur. It was a chameleon who called himself “The Last Dinosaur.” His name was Little Long. He hid in the grass by Lemon Lake, turning himself grass-green, but every time the shark Shasha accidentally splashed lemon water on him, he’d pop right out.

“I can change color!” Little Long said proudly. “I’m amazing!”

“Then why do you always get caught?”

“…Because I want to be a dinosaur, not a chameleon. Dinosaurs don’t have to hide.”

The eagle thought this team was absolutely absurd. One lonely eagle, one ridiculously slow snail, one crab who couldn’t walk straight, and one chameleon who didn’t want to hide — all going to fight a demon and save the Taro Mud Hot Spring.

They flew over a banana grove and ran into a bunch of bananas.

That bunch of bananas was having a party.

“Where are you going?” asked Banana Boss, wearing a tiny hat.

“To fight a demon,” said the eagle. “To save the Taro Mud Hot Spring.”

The bananas looked at each other, then all jumped off the tree at once.

“We’re coming with you!”

“You don’t even have hands,” said Fast Bro. “What can you do?”

Banana Boss thought for a second. “We can… be eaten?”

Silence for three full seconds.

“…Maybe not,” said the eagle. “But thanks for the offer.”

The bananas silently climbed back up the tree and continued their party.

After walking for ages, they finally reached the Taro Mud Hot Spring — except it was blocked.

What should have been a bubbling purple spring, smelling like creamy taro milk tea, was now sealed shut by a giant lump of black sticky goo. And sitting on top of that goo was a… very tiny demon.

“Demon” was too grand a word for him. He was barely thirty centimeters tall, red-skinned, with two crooked little horns. He was eating a bag of potato chips.

“You’re the demon?” The eagle was stunned.

“Yeah,” the tiny demon munched on a chip. “So what? Got a problem?”

“Why did you block the hot spring?!”

“Because I want to bathe in it,” the demon said matter-of-factly. “But I don’t want to share. So I blocked it up. Just me alone. Perfect.”

“But everyone says you’re scary — “

“That’s because last time someone tried to take the spring, I called a river snail to scare them,” said the tiny demon. “That snail went ‘HAAA — ‘ really loud, and they ran away.”

…A river snail.

Fast Bro climbed off the eagle’s back and stared at the little demon. “So… you’re not a bad guy?”

“I never said I was a bad guy. You guys assumed that.”

Another long silence.

Clampy was the first to crack. “So we climbed all this way for nothing?! I spent three hours walking straight to get here!”

“Don’t you get dizzy walking straight?” asked Little Long.

“Yeah, and I’m super dizzy right now,” Clampy wobbled. “I’m seeing three demons.”

“That’s because you’re dizzy,” said Fast Bro.

“Or maybe there really are three?” Little Long started doubting his own eyes.

Just then — the real dramatic moment happened.

Mayor Grape rolled up from the bottom of the mountain.

Yes, he rolled. But he was rolling way too fast and couldn’t stop at all. He charged straight toward the black sticky lump that the tiny demon had used to seal the spring.

“Out of the way out of the way OUT OF THE WAY — “

“BOOM!”

Mayor Grape slammed right into that black goo and got stuck. Only his tiny gold-rimmed glasses were still visible on the surface.

“…Help.” Mayor Grape’s muffled voice came from inside. “Help me.”

The tiny demon stared for three seconds, then fell over laughing. “HAHAHAHAHA how did you even get in there HAHAHAHA — “

The eagle asked, “What is that black sticky stuff?”

“Taro paste,” the tiny demon said, wiping tears from his eyes. “I sealed the spring with taro paste. All natural. And you can eat it too.”

“TARO PASTE?!” Fast Bro was shocked. “You blocked a hot spring with taro paste?”

“Yeah. Whenever I want a snack, I just dig in.”

Mayor Grape struggled inside the taro paste. “GET ME OUT OF HERE! I’m the mayor! I have dignity!”

Little Long finally showed his worth — he shot out his tongue, stuck it into the taro paste, grabbed Mayor Grape, and yanked.

“POP — “

Mayor Grape came out, but he was completely covered in purple taro paste. He looked like a very expensive dessert.

“…I hate all of you,” said Mayor Grape.

In the end, they decided not to fight.

Because the tiny demon said something very reasonable: “Honestly, the Taro Mud Hot Spring is huge. There’s room for everyone.”

So now, the Taro Mud Hot Spring has become the most lively spot in the whole forest —

The lonely eagle isn’t lonely anymore. He flies little animals to the hot spring every day. Fast Bro can finally crawl there slowly — nobody rushes him. Clampy found his new skill: walking sideways into the hot spring fits his body perfectly. Little Long doesn’t have to hide anymore — everyone says, “Wow, that dinosaur is so cool.” Shasha the shark swims over from Lemon Lake sometimes — but he’s still scared of sour things, so he stays far away from the lemons when he soaks in the taro soup. Mayor Grape does inspection tours every week — and slips on the taro paste every single time. The bananas came later too, bringing the whole bunch as snacks. The tiny demon still sits on the side eating potato chips, occasionally dipping them into the taro paste from the spring.

And the taro paste seal that got smashed open? They replaced it with a giant taro root, with a little flag stuck on top that reads:

“Help yourself. Don’t be shy.”

THE END

Let me know if you’d like a shorter version, a more polished literary version, or a version for children (simpler vocabulary).