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Chapter Sixteen -- To Be Or Not To Be

The police on the mainland had been notified and had arrived on the island three hours later in a sleek and powerful catamaran. They proceeded to take statements from everybody: the family, the children's tutor, the scientists, the five or six fishing families that made the island their home, and especially little Benjiro, as he'd been the only witness to the abduction.

The police team included a specialist child psychologist whose job it was to try to help the children cope with the trauma of seeing their mother murdered. She was also the one to coax details from the toddler's memory of the two men who had abducted Aiko. With his grandmother present, she put the kitten into a light hypnotic trance and was able to get enough details of the second man's features for the police artist to make preliminary sketches of him.

The telephone's computer automatically stored all calls over a twenty-four hour period; the fake delivery call and the abduction call were brought up from memory by the police and copied for examination back on the mainland.

Finally, after assurances that they would do all they could, the police left the family to their grief.

And still Miyatsu had not returned.

Montaro and Mieko took off into the warm night sky, levitating as high as they could, trying to spot his psychic signature.

Dawn was breaking over the island before the teenagers returned, exhausted-looking, flying low, their tails dragging on the ground.

"We think he's circling the globe," Montaro reported as he and his twin sipped a cup of warm milk each at the kitchen table. "Every now and then I heard a sort of echo. How about you, Mieko-chan?"

Mieko nodded wearily. "But we couldn't catch him. He's up too far and going too fast for us."

"But what's he doing?" asked Yutaka in a hollow voice. The old man's eyes were red-rimmed from crying; he had lost most of the boundless energy he usually showed for life, and now looked his age for the first time since he'd come to live on the island.

"We think -- we think he's searching. For a psychic trace of -- " Montaro faltered, and he stopped speaking, unable to go on. A tear trickled down his face, wetting his fur.

Mieko drew a deep breath. "Searching for a trace of Mum's body," she finished for her twin, her voice breaking on the last word. She buried her face in her hands abruptly, the tears winning out again. "Oh, Grandma," she sobbed, "Why? Why did they kill her?" It came out as a wail.

Kagami hastily rose and went to her eldest granddaughter, putting her arms about her in comfort, fresh tears wetting her own cheeks.

*

Miyatsu hung, exhausted, looking down upon the earth. The thin air this far up was difficult to breathe and viciously cold, with the moisture freezing into ice particles coating his fur, but he disregarded it. He didn't want to go down further into the warmth to let it melt away, as he had periodically throughout the long night and day following, as he fruitlessly searched for some lingering psychic trace of his mate's body.

Up this high, it was possible to see that the earth really was a globe: the planet's horizon curved downwards on all sides with Miyatsu floating wearily in the centre, his chest heaving as he panted to get enough oxygen into his straining system. When he looked up, he could see stars above him, although the earth below was bathed in sunset light.

Closing his physical eyes for a moment, he let his psychic senses take over. His mind's eye could see that the earth teemed with signatures of life, humans, animals, even plants, a glittering, ever-moving kaleidoscope. Each one was unique to the individual and lingered for a time even after death, gradually fading away to nothing as the body cooled. Miyatsu had spent the past twenty-four hours in the air, combing the earth in thin slices, filtering out signatures that could not be Aiko's. Time and again he'd spotted a small blue-green dot that was similar to her light; always he swooped to the ground to investigate, only to find that it was somebody else.

He was becoming dizzy from lack of oxygen, and started to go down again, but then stopped, reconsidering.

For if he just stayed at this altitude a little longer, he would lose consciousness.

How easy it would be, he thought, looking at the land so far below. Just to stop thinking, to stop feeling, and to let myself drop.

Quicker in the long run, and the ultimate outcome would be the same. For Miyatsu had no doubt about his symptoms this time: he'd experienced them before. He'd never expected to feel the pain of Pershan Syndrome again; twice in one lifetime was too much to bear. He would never see his Aiko again, so what did it matter if he died now or later? His heart was already dead. Only his body needed to follow.

Aiko! How could her light have been taken from the world, snuffed out so callously? Aiko, who had never hurt anybody in her life, whose only crime in the eyes of the small-minded had been to love him.

Grimly, he decided against a final plummet into the ground's embrace. Not yet. For he still had business to attend to. He was going to find her, wherever they had hidden her, and take her back to the island for burial. And then he was going to hunt down every last member of HAGEO and make them pay for the death of his mate! Until that was done, he had to stay alive.

Fighting exhaustion and heartbreak, he once more began to sweep the planet for any faint clue as to where the cowards had hidden his love's body.

*

Aiko dropped back into her body with a sense of resignation. Sakaki was again sitting by her bedside, so she kept her eyes determinedly closed and pretended to be asleep.

Over the past few days, she'd practiced her out-of-body technique intensively and could now achieve it at a rate of around once for every three attempts. But it was exhausting, and it seemed she couldn't manage longer than about ten minutes before being snapped back automatically, no matter how far away from her body she was.

She recognized the sensations that meant she'd reached her time limit by now; she'd feel a weird stretching sensation and a sound like the approach of an onrushing train: whum whum WHUM!

Although she could hold it off for a few moments, fighting against an inexorable pull as strong as gravity, inevitably she would wind up back inside her body, blinking and frustrated at not being able to navigate her way out of the maze of underground corridors. They were all labeled at the junctions, but that didn't tell her how to get to the exit.

The first few times she'd managed to leave her body, she'd floated through the door as if it was no more solid than smoke and navigated along confusing corridors, searching for an exit sign. The place was a maze of corridors and passageways. There was the constant low hum of powerful machinery somewhere in the distance.

An ominous sense of panic was growing within her as the days slipped by. She'd been here for four days now, four days with Miyatsu and her family thinking she was dead, and she was no further along in making an escape bid than she had been the first day.

It had seemed such a miracle that she could escape the confines of her body that she'd been sure she could somehow get a message to Miyatsu that way. Yet now it appeared to be a useless dead-end, distracting her from any constructive ideas. For not only didn't she know where on earth she was, she'd never be able to stay out-of-body for the length of time needed to get home to the island anyway. Also the sedative that had been dripping steadily into her veins over the past four days made her thought processes slow, and it was difficult to think consecutively. She felt as if her head was stuffed with cotton wadding.

Two nurses alternated day and night shifts between them so that there was one always in the room constantly, seeing to her physical needs and making sure she was well-guarded. Nurse Tetsu was as uncommunicative and coldly efficient as Nurse Rin.

Aiko's only sense of time in this sterile, artificially-lit place without windows was the clock, steadily ticking away the amount of life left to her mate and building on her feelings of helplessness and panic...

Sakaki would come into the room a couple of times a day and just sit beside the bed, watching Aiko with an intent, expectant expression. It seemed as if he were waiting for something. Aiko usually coped with his presence either by feigning sleep or else by letting her consciousness leave in reality.

Aiko didn't open her eyes now, letting Sakaki think she was asleep. After a few minutes however, Sakaki sighed and stood up.

"You're leaving, sir?" asked Nurse Rin, looking up from her desk.

"Yes, I can't stay. I'm due to join a satellite link-up with some overseas investors." He gazed down at Aiko again for a moment. "Does she show any sign yet of getting over her -- addiction?"

Nurse Rin shook her head. "I'm afraid not, sir. But it's early days yet, and she's been under that creature's influence for how long?"

"Years," Sakaki said with a grimace. "He first tainted her consciousness when she was seven! Poor little Aiko! No wonder she's confused. Imagine being addicted that long."

"Still, you said that once the animal has died, she'll be free of its mind control. Are you sure that will do the trick, sir?"

"Positive. He should be well and truly into Pershan Syndrome by now. He'll have stopped eating and will only be sleeping sporadically. I'd imagine he's feeling pretty weak by now."

It was as well that Sakaki was on his way out the door as he said this, for as it closed behind him Aiko dissolved into weak sobs of total despair, which Nurse Rin as usual ignored.

The clock ticked off another minute. Aiko stared at it dully through her tears, wishing Sakaki dead at this moment. That he could talk so callously about Miyatsu then just walk out...

The tears stopped abruptly mid-sob. Sakaki was walking out -- of course he was! Because he knew where the exit was!

Aiko wrenched her head as hard as she could to the side, desperate to follow before Sakaki disappeared into the maze.

Thankfully this time the trick worked at once. Aiko slipped through the now-insubstantial door. She was just in time to see Sakaki turn one of the corners at the junction of South 10, the corridor where her prison was.

She flashed after him, mindful that she only had around ten minutes in this form. He was going along East-West Connector now, then turned into East 10. Aiko wondered at that, as she knew from her explorations that East 10 ended in an abrupt dead-end wall with no junctions running off it. East 10 was usually where she turned back in her bodiless wandering, searching fruitlessly instead along West 10 or North 10, or one of the many other connecting corridors running like the spokes of a massive wheel that seemingly went on for miles to nowhere.

Now however, Sakaki stopped at the wall where East 10 ended abruptly and reached for what Aiko had taken to be a light-switch. He flicked it, and instead of the lights going out, as she'd expected, a concealed door hummed open, revealing the interior of an elevator!

Aiko was in it before Sakaki entered, and she hovered above his head, watching his next actions intently. The wall panel showed nine floors above them; Sakaki punched the top button and the elevator doors slid shut.

At last! Aiko felt exultant. After four days of fruitless searching, it had finally dawned on her to simply follow Sakaki out. The idea seemed obvious now: she could only think that it was the sedative that was making her thought processes so dull and stupid. A double-edged sword indeed, for without the sedative she would have found it impossible to leave her body at all.

The elevator stopped at Floor Eight, and two men got in, dressed in hard hats and boots. They greeted Sakaki, bowing respectfully. "Good afternoon, Raikatuji-sama."

Sakaki nodded back in acknowledgement. At Floor Five the elevator stopped again and the pair got out.

Floors Four, Three, Two and One flashed by. Finally they stopped at the Ground Floor. The doors slid open and Sakaki strode out, shadowed by Aiko. She'd lost count of how long she'd been out now, but there was still no sign of her time limit, and there was no way she was going to miss finally finding her way out of here!

There were many more people about now; offices opened off the long corridor labeled North G, and Aiko could see people working at desks. This, then, must be the administrative level. Sakaki turned onto West G and there were people here walking about, all looking busy.

And then they were heading straight for a big sliding door beside which stood a receptionist's front desk. Unmistakeably the entrance at last! All around were displays and posters, bright flashes of color on the newly-painted walls.

Sakaki drew level with the receptionist at her desk and stopped.

"Did those estimates I asked you about yesterday come through?" he began, but Aiko didn't stop to listen to business any further. For beyond the glass door the afternoon sun was shining brightly, and she wasn't about to wait. With a rush, she swooped past Sakaki and through the doors and finally -- finally! She was outside!

And it wasn't really such a big surprise that she could hear the familiar sound of surf washing onto a beach behind her, or that she knew that the gleaming building rising above the trees at the end of the beach was the headquarters and main office of Raikatuji Centre. Maybe subconsciously she'd suspected where she was all along. She turned slowly about, gazing around. Her small house was long gone, but it was still the same beach where she and Miyatsu had walked hand-in-hand through the rain twelve years ago. Over there was the Raikatuji wharf, gleaming in the sunshine. The building she'd just exited must be the entrance to the newly-built Raikatuji Clean Energy Facility.

Sakaki had brought her back to Kagoshima.

*

It was the evening of the fourth day when Miyatsu at last came home.

The family had gathered about the table for dinner when first Montaro, then his twin, pricked their ears forward and turned to gaze out the window.

Without a word, Montaro ran to the front door and levitated straight up into the sky, streaking westward towards the setting sun.

Mieko gazed wildly at her grandparents and siblings. "Dad is nearly home! But he's weak; he called out to us because he doesn't think he can manage the last few kilometers by himself. Hideaki, Hanako! We'll need all four of us to help him down."

Without waiting any longer, she launched herself out the door after her twin, and the two younger ones immediately jumped up and followed her. Within seconds, the only ones left at the table were Yutaka and Kagami, with little Benjiro on her lap.

The child bounced up and down excitedly. "Daddy's home, Daddy's home!"

Benjiro had refused to accept that his mother was never coming back. He had continued in his belief that her absence was only temporary by stubbornly insisting that: "Daddy will find the bad men and make them give her back!"

When told tearfully by his older siblings and grandparents that Aiko was now in the spirit world with Benjiro's little twin, he had covered his mouth with his hands in astonished delight, before crying out in wonder, "Mummy's bringing my sister with her when she comes home!"

Now the toddler jumped off his grandmother's lap and ran outside, eager for the first sight of his returning family.

Yutaka and Kagami exchanged a deeply worried glance before slowly following their small grandson.

Kagami was the first to put words to the worry. "He can't get back by himself?"

Yutaka nodded. "Pershan Syndrome," he said solemnly. "He probably hasn't eaten or slept properly since Aiko-- " His voice wobbled, and he stopped, drawing a deep breath. "Since he left," he amended shakily.

A dot appeared in the sky far out to sea. It was difficult to make it out at first against the setting sun, but it grew larger and larger and eventually resolved itself into four cat-shapes supporting a bigger one in the centre. Montaro and Mieko each had one arm slipped under their father's shoulders, and the two younger children were flying beneath, adding their telepathic strength to help buoy up the three above them.

As they flew lower and touched down outside the house, the two humans could see that Miyatsu was ill. He looked utterly drained and had lost a noticeable amount of weight and condition in just the last four days. His head drooped and his fur was matted and unkempt.

Still with his two eldest children supporting him, he looked into Yutaka's eyes wretchedly. His blue eyes were fever-bright, and Yutaka's heart sank as he realized his suspicion of Pershan Syndrome had been correct.

"I'm sorry," Miyatsu murmured desolately. "I failed. I wanted to bring Aiko home for burial. So that the family could grieve her properly. But they hid her too well. I couldn't -- I can't find her..."

"Get him inside," Yutaka told the children quietly. "Up to his room. He needs to rest."

*

Mieko brought the dinner tray from last night back down the stairs. Her ears were down and her tail dragged despondently.

"I left the breakfast tray on the dresser by the bed," she said tonelessly in answer to her grandparent's worried looks. "But he didn't eat anything after he came home last night. Look."

She lifted the tea towel that covered the dishes on the tray. The slices of fish and meat were lying untouched and dried out next to the vegetables and rice.

"At least he drank most of the milk," she continued with a sniffle, putting the tray on the counter. She gazed at her grandparents and her brown eyes swam with tears. "But this will be the fifth day since he's eaten! Dad's going to die, isn't he?"

Kagami hugged her granddaughter wordlessly, but Yutaka's lips thinned in anger and he stood up.

"We'll just see about that! I'm going up to have a word with him!"

"Oh, Yutaka! Do you think that's wise?"

Yutaka looked at his sobbing granddaughter and distraught wife. "Well I can't make things much worse, can I?"

*

Yutaka's knock on the door was ignored; he walked in anyway. Miyatsu was lying on the bed, his eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

Yutaka seated himself on the bed beside Miyatsu. "You do know your children are worried sick about you, don't you?" he said conversationally.

Miyatsu glanced at him for the first time since he'd entered the room but said nothing, his face expressionless.

"You're being amazingly selfish," Yutaka continued. The small frown that creased Miyatsu's face at this criticism encouraged Yutaka; at least he was being listened to. "Those five children, who you brought into this world, may I remind you, have just lost their mother. And now their father is going to abandon them."

Miyatsu's eyes flashed at that. "I'm not abandoning them! I came home, didn't I?"

"You're up here starving yourself to death. Explain to me how that isn't abandoning them? They are your responsibility, Miyatsu! When I helped you create them it was because I thought you were serious about wanting to start your own species. They need you, Miyatsu. If you allow yourself to die, what happens to them, hmm?"

He held up one hand to forestall Miyatsu as he opened his mouth to protest. "Oh, Kagami and I will look after them, of course we will, they're our grandchildren. But look at me, Miyatsu! One old human and his wife, who can tell how long we'll live? And even if we're lucky enough to live as long as the Okinawans, we can never help those children develop and refine their skills! They're a different species and have powers beyond anything I can imagine. How do you propose I teach them to, oh, let's say, spot a psychic signature, or shield their thoughts? I don't even understand how you do it, much less try to describe the technique behind it to them!"

"They can already do that," Miyatsu said, his eyes never leaving Yutaka's.

"They can," Yutaka conceded. "Because you taught them. But they're still children. Who's going to teach Benjiro? And Raden and Raiku once they're born? Are you honestly going to leave Kagami and I to bring up seven highly-talented children and just trust that Montaro and Mieko will remember enough of your training to take over? They're still only children, Miyatsu, they shouldn't have to try to teach their siblings all they need to know. They look to you as the model of how to be a Miyatsu, what to do, how to act. And if they don't know how to act as the Miyatsu species, then what is left to them? They'll have to try to become human, and that won't work, because they're not human. If you abandon them to their fate now, they'll eventually end up as slaves just like you were, leashed and muzzled and controlled like animals! You know they will! They need the guidance and the experience that only their father can give them. You're their safe harbour until they're adult enough to navigate the stormy seas of life."

Miyatsu drew a deep, shuddering breath and met Yutaka's eyes dejectedly. "I don't want to leave them, Yutaka, I love them. But -- I can't go on without my Aiko! It's like I've lost my beating heart, like a vital piece of myself has died! You can't imagine what it's like -- "

"Excuse me?" Yutaka interrupted, his eyebrows lifting. "I can't imagine what it's like? What do you think I am, a rock with no feelings? This is my daughter we're talking about, my baby girl! The light of my life, my only child! How dare you say I can't understand the pain of her loss?"

Miyatsu shook his head. "I know you loved her as much as I did, but you're human. You can't get Pershan Syndrome, you can still eat and sleep despite your grief. Your mourning won't kill you."

"So it's a foregone conclusion that every case of Pershan Syndrome ends in death? I'm sorry, Miyatsu, I don't believe it and neither should you. You're not Pershan, even though your Adersi leopard ancestors had much in common with that species. And you aren't your ancestors, you're not even completely feline, you have a significant percentage of human and Coati genes. Plus you've had Pershan Syndrome once before and recovered... "

"Because I was reunited with Aiko!" Miyatsu sat up slowly, watching Yutaka intently, his ears pricked forward alertly.

Yutaka waved away the interruption. "And how long did you have it at a low level before you eventually succumbed enough to fall flat on your face? Twelve weeks, Miyatsu! With your size and metabolic requirements you should have died in a month, five weeks at the outside!"

"Yes, but -- Sakaki was with me. He kept me company, talked with me, I wasn't alone... "

"And there we come to the crux of the matter!" Yutaka said triumphantly. "Are you alone now? Only by choice, up here in your bedroom. Downstairs are your family, waiting, loving, all distraught about you! Come down and be with us! Let us support you!" Yutaka suddenly looked old and weary as he pleaded. "You're my son-in-law, Miyatsu-kun, just as much as if you were human. You've loved my daughter and given me grandchildren. Don't leave us now, I beg you! Don't leave Kagami and I. We need you as much as the children do. My daughter is dead. I can't bear the thought of losing my son as well."

Suddenly Miyatsu's eyes were swimming with tears as he gazed at the old man. "Yutaka! How can I go on without her? Tell me how!"

And he buried his face in his paws and began to sob brokenly, great heaving sobs as if he'd never stop.

Yutaka put his arm about him, holding him close. It seemed the great upwelling of grief went on and on. Yutaka's face was again wet with his own tears.

"Yes," he murmured. "Cry it out. It helps -- only a little, I know, but it helps. Grieve for her, but accept it, and live for the sake of your family."

After what seemed like hours, Miyatsu's wretched sobs finally eased, gradually quieting into long-drawn breaths and hiccups. When he finally raised his face, his blue eyes were red-rimmed and the fur of his cheeks was damp with his tears.

"It's my fault she's dead," he mumbled brokenly, refusing to meet Yutaka's eyes. "If only she'd never met me, she'd still be alive. You and I both know that, Yutaka."

Yutaka still had his arm about Miyatsu's shoulders. He smoothed the fur under his hand soothingly. "No. It's not your fault, Miyatsu-kun. I can't lie to you: during this last week, I have imagined what might have been if Aiko hadn't met you. Oh, I could moan and cry and blame you for it all; it would be easy to do that, and I'd have a scapegoat for my misery."

He turned to look Miyatsu full in the face, putting one hand under his jaw for a second to force him to meet his eyes. "But it wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't be the truth. Because you made her happy, Miyatsu. She loved you, she loved this family that you both created. Both of you were living your dream; you were making it happen together. And you were generous enough to include Kagami and I in your Utopia as well." The old man shook his head sharply. "No, the fault is not yours, and you should never think it is. It lies with the evil-minded creatures that can't abide to see any love that falls outside of their narrow parameters."

Yutaka watched as Miyatsu thought about that, the expressions chasing themselves across his chimeric face. Finally the old man smiled a wavering reassurance. "You'll live, Miyatsu. You have to. You have genes that make you susceptible to Pershan Syndrome. That doesn't mean you have to succumb to it. Don't forget your other genes, the human side of your heritage! Humans are the damnedest animals that ever lived, cantankerous and contrary, and more stubborn than any other! And we need you, because the fight isn't over yet. We contacted the police about Aiko's -- Aiko's murder -- " he closed his eyes in pain and swallowed hard, taking a moment to compose himself. "They're confident they'll track down those responsible," he continued. "They took a DNA sample of the dried blood around Benji's mouth, they're going through the records of every organization that's ever opposed GMAs, particularly HAGEO. I gave them the records of all the threatening communications you and Aiko have ever received. The police will get to the bottom of this and bring Aiko's killers to justice, I'm positive!"

Miyatsu had a speculative look on his face. "You're right. Just because I -- I couldn't find her, that doesn't mean to say I should die and let them get away with it... "

"Good for you! You know, I wouldn't be surprised if your death was what they wanted all along," Yutaka said. "I've been thinking about that a lot over the past few days. That spokesman said that they'd read your file. But how could they? Aiko told me that it's classified, only Raikatuji researchers get to see it."

Miyatsu nodded. "Sakaki gave her a copy when we met again at Raikatuji Centre. It needed Sakaki's authorization before she could bring it up on her computer."

Yutaka nodded. "So somebody from Raikatuji managed to see it, somebody high enough up in the organization to be trusted with the information. And they would have made the connection with you and Pershan Syndrome if they had any intelligence at all! I think the HAGEO people didn't particularly care about Aiko. I think they feared you, my son. They wanted your death, as the most powerful GMA the world has ever seen. Don't let them win!"

A flash of fear showed briefly in Miyatsu's eyes. "If what you say is true, then the children will be in danger next!" he said. "Once I'm dead, they'd be easy targets!" He gazed at Yutaka desperately. "They're trying to wipe out my species, Yutaka! That's what this is about!"

Yutaka nodded slowly, the implications sinking in. "I hadn't thought of it quite like that before, but it makes sense. I'll need to alert the police to the possibility." He stood and gazed down at Miyatsu. "So. What are you going to do? It's your decision."

Blue eyes met brown eyes squarely. Shakily, Miyatsu got to his feet. "I'm going to fight to survive," he murmured. "At least until Aiko's murderers are caught, and my children are safe. Until then, I'll live."

*

The family stared in amazement as Yutaka, followed by Miyatsu, came downstairs. Yutaka was carrying the breakfast tray; he set it on the kitchen table.

"Your father has decided to have breakfast with us," he announced to the room at large.

Miyatsu gave his family a wan smile. "I'm sorry I worried you," he told the children quietly.

He sat down determinedly, lifted the tea towel off the plate and put a slice of meat into his mouth. He gave no sign of enjoying the food, in fact it seemed more as if it were a chore he wanted to get over with, but still, he was eating, and one by one his children broke into relieved smiles and sat close beside him, radiating their love as he doggedly chewed, swallowed, and reached for more.

Kagami was standing by the sink, watching in astonished relief. "What magic did you work, old man?" she asked her husband.

Yutaka smiled. "I convinced him that he wasn't to blame. And I appealed to his sense of responsibility," he murmured. "To the part of him that's a father."

*

After Miyatsu had eaten as much as his shrunken stomach could hold, his eyes began to droop tiredly. It was as if his body, having decided to live, was now demanding all the essentials previously denied it, sleep being foremost on the list.

Kagami took the children for a walk to allow Yutaka to continue his good work. As they trooped out, Miyatsu looked at Yutaka.

"I -- I can't go back up to the bedroom to sleep," he said in a small voice. "It holds too many memories. Everywhere up there, I see, and smell, and hear my Aiko. It's too painful."

Yutaka thought about it for a moment. "Remember those times over the years when we've gotten up before dawn to spend the morning fishing on the rocks?" he said quietly. "And we'd get home and everybody's busy and we'd feel like a nap after lunch?"

Miyatsu gave a shaky smile. "And we usually go into the lounge room, shut the door, close the blinds, and each take a couch." He stood up. "I think I can manage that."

Yutaka once more led the way. He bustled about shutting blinds while Miyatsu curled up on the larger of the two couches in the room, pillowing his head on his paws.

Yutaka took off his shoes and lay down on the smaller couch.

After a moment, Miyatsu said quietly, "So. Have we caught many fish?"

Yutaka smiled. "Not a single one, Miyatsu-kun. You keep talking and scare them off. As usual!"

There was silence for another minute or two.

"Yutaka?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"Shh! I'm casting my line. Don't scare the fish away!"

Miyatsu closed his eyes wearily. After a few minutes, Yutaka heard his breathing even out, slow and steady, as sleep finally claimed him.

Yutaka smiled. He'd been a father for a long time. It made one something of a psychologist.