Fine line black tattoo of Totoro beside Japanese katakana reading Studio Ghibli on the forearm.

Totoro and Studio Ghibli script on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single-needle style outline of Totoro, with pointed ears, whiskers and a rounded body, sits beside the katakana text スタジオジブリ in black ink. The thin, even linework is shown on a forearm photographed at a slight angle against a soft grey background. The design has no shading or colour, and the text is set to the right of the figure.

Fine line Forearm Totoro Script Character Line drawing

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had been falling on Hollin Cross for nine days when Eddie Parr came running up the lane without his bicycle. There was something asleep in the bus shelter, he said, round as a loaf and grey as wet slate, with two ears like folded leaves standing up from its head. It had not paid the fare, and he did not think it meant to. Nobody in the village believed him until his mother went down to see for herself.

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Ruth Callow, who kept the post office and had no patience for nonsense, took her black umbrella down the hill. The creature was still there, curled on the bench beneath the timetable that had listed the 4.10 to Market Dunning since the line closed in 1953. When it woke it yawned without a sound, took the umbrella from her hand, and held it over its own head, leaving her to stand in the drip. She laughed, which she had not done since spring, and sat down beside it to wait.

After that she carried a flask of tea down each evening and set it on the bench. The creature left an acorn in exchange, and once a conker polished so bright she could see the lane reflected in it. Her husband grumbled about the postal rounds and the damp in the sorting room, and the vicar asked whether the thing was a dog. Ruth only said it kept better time than the railway ever had, because it never once looked at a clock.

On the tenth morning the rain stopped. Ruth found the umbrella folded on the bench with a single acorn balanced on the handle, and the timetable had been stripped of its 4.10. Small wet footprints led from the shelter across the road and into Hollin Wood, where the chestnut dripped and nothing else moved. She did not follow them. She took the acorn home and put it on the windowsill, where it still sits.