Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 2 - Part 3

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The cherry blossoms that had brightened the hanami season quickly scattered, leaving behind lush green leaves. By mid-June, the days had become scorching, and Al thought summer was here to stay. But then, the rain started. It became more frequent, and everything in the apartment felt damp. Al felt like a snail trapped in the endless moisture.

"I hate bad weather days... so much," Al grumbled.

"It’s the rainy season," Akira replied. He explained that before summer arrived, there would be about a month of rainy, dreary weather. When Al asked, "Don’t you hate all this rain?" Akira simply said, "June has always been like this. The first half of the month was sunny, so people thought it might be a dry rainy season, but it looks like the real rain has finally started."

The incident began around this time, sparked by a single magazine. That day, three bodies had been brought to the center, and everyone was busy. Koyanagi had come in early, and each person was focused on one body. Muroi was in the treatment room, leaving no one to keep Al company in the break room.

Akira, knowing Al was around, had left the TV on, but the morning shows were mostly for housewives, and Al found them boring. He was dozing off, lying face-down on the back of the sofa, when the sound of the door opening woke him up.

Muroi had returned. Still in his blue surgical gown, he plopped down heavily on the sofa, causing Al’s body to bounce slightly on the sofa’s back.

"Ah, sorry about that," Muroi said, giving Al a gentle poke near his waist. As a bat, Al didn’t mind being touched, but the waist was a sensitive spot. He twisted his body and chirped, "Squeak! Squeak! (I don't like that!)."

"You want me to pet you more?" Muroi misunderstood, and before Al could protest further, he was being petted again. Al flapped his wings and flew over to Akira's desk. Muroi followed, persistent. Annoyed, Al moved to Tsuno’s desk next door, but Muroi followed him there too. Thinking that staying low was the problem, Al flew up and hung from the blinds, trying to look more like a bat.

"You really do look like a regular bat when you do that," Muroi muttered. Al wanted to ask what else he could possibly look like in this form, but as a bat, he had no human words to speak.

Ever since the incident during the cherry blossom viewing, Al had started to feel a sense of familiarity with Muroi, whom he had previously thought of as shady. Perhaps it was more accurate to call it sympathy. Al couldn’t help but feel sorry for Muroi, who had to endure such a harsh rejection after falling for Akira. Out of pity, Al often flew over to Muroi’s side as a bat and chirped, "Squeak! Squeak! (Cheer up!)" while rubbing his nose against him in a comforting gesture. This friendliness had made Muroi more inclined to play with Al. However, Muroi’s fascination with Al's bat body, such as flipping him over to examine his wings or peering intently at his private parts, was something Al found hard to tolerate. Even as a bat, Al still had a sense of modesty and felt embarrassed when looked at so closely.

"Come on, let's play, Squeak! Squeak!" Muroi called, trying to coax him. Al enjoyed playing, but he didn’t like being subjected to such invasions of privacy. Sensing Al’s reluctance, Muroi seemed to give up and turned his attention to a book on Tsuno’s desk. It was a men’s fashion magazine that had been left face down. Muroi flipped it over.

"I didn’t know he read this kind of stuff. It doesn’t quite seem like him," Muroi commented as he casually flipped through the pages. He suddenly stopped at one page.

"Hmm? What’s this?" Muroi’s curious humming made Al descend from the shelf to peek at the book.

"Squeak!!" Al exclaimed in shock. There, in full view, was a photo of him as a model. The magazine had been released.

Two months ago, Tsuno had asked Al to model for him. Despite Akira and Nukariya’s objections, Al couldn't bring himself to refuse. Tsuno had been genuinely troubled, and Al wanted to help if he could be of use, even in his current form. He told Tsuno, "Akira says no to modeling work, but let's keep it a secret," before going ahead with the photoshoot.

Al had been curious about the Japanese modeling industry and found it wasn’t too different from the American mail-order magazines he was used to. The clothes were cool, and the hair and makeup were meticulously maintained, which made him happy. He tried different poses, but the photographer remarked, "That pose feels a bit outdated," which left Al slightly shocked at how trends had changed.

The shoot took place at night, as he had hoped, and although there were some challenges with nailing the right poses, Al found the experience enjoyable. Tsuno’s sister had even invited him to register with their agency, but Al declined. He had only stepped in as a stand-in for Tsuno this time, and with his previous arrest at the police station, he didn’t intend to pursue a modeling career.

Now that the magazine was out, Tsuno might have brought it to show him, but this was very bad timing. If Akira found out, it wouldn’t just be a simple scolding.

Muroi, holding the magazine with both hands, stared intently at it. "This is definitely Kane-san," he murmured. With colored contacts and perfect makeup, the magazine version of Al was far more handsome than usual. He thought he had transformed well enough, but Muroi recognized him immediately.

As Al began to sweat nervously, Muroi closed the magazine. If Muroi didn’t tell Akira, everything would be fine. Al desperately tried to send a mental plea to Muroi, urging him not to say anything to Akira.

Just then, quick footsteps echoed from the hallway. It wasn’t Koyanagi or Tsuno. The break room door swung open, and Akira walked in.

"Good work," Muroi greeted him.

Even after Muroi’s confession of love, Akira’s attitude toward him hadn’t changed. The same could be said for Muroi…at least on the surface. When Akira wasn’t looking, Muroi would gaze at him intensely, his eyes filled with a passion that made Al’s chest tighten. Despite being clearly rejected, Muroi hadn’t given up. Al could sense that determination in the air.

"Muroi," Akira said, approaching him. "You’re my associate, but you don’t need to stick to me all the time. Tsuno is working on facial reconstruction. That’s rare in Japan, even if it’s more common in America. You should go observe."

"Well, yes, I did at first," Muroi responded awkwardly. "I’m really into plastic surgery, so when I see someone’s technique, I start thinking about how I’d do it myself. It makes me restless…" Akira stared at him intently.

"Are you saying you don't need to watch Tsuno's technique because you think you can do it better?"

Akira asked, not in anger or mockery, but with a puzzled tone, though his words were sharp.

"That's not what I meant..." Muroi's lips twisted slightly, betraying his discomfort.

"That's how it sounded to me. I’ve never seen your reconstruction work, so I don’t know how good you actually are. While some people’s confidence matches their skills, more often than not, they end up shaping the face the way they want it rather than restoring it to what it originally was. That leads to complaints from the bereaved."

Muroi's eyes turned red, and he bit his lip in frustration.

"Tsuno may not be the fastest, but he’s thorough. He understands that it’s more important to recreate the face as it was in life than to make it look perfect. That’s why I assigned the task to him."

"I’ll go and learn from him," Muroi said, lowering his head as he turned to leave the room, just as Koyanagi returned.

"Whew... Huh, where are you going, Muroi?"

"I was going to watch Tsuno’s reconstruction work..."

"Oh, that's already done. Tsuno doesn't usually do much reconstruction, but he did a great job with this one. The bereaved family should be satisfied with how it turned out. Despite there being no major external damage, facial reconstruction usually takes two or three hours. It seems he started early because he was pressed for time. He was in the treatment room even before we came in for our shift. In comparison, I think Takatsuka’s case took more effort. The blood vessels were severed all over, making it difficult to fix the circulatory system."

"That’s just how it goes," Akira replied.

"Yeah, we often get bodies that have already been through an autopsy."

Muroi, with no reason left to leave, slowly returned to his desk. Even though Akira's words weren’t wrong, Al couldn’t help but feel sorry for Muroi, who looked disheartened.

Al fluttered onto Muroi's shoulder and rubbed his nose against his neck, trying to comfort him. Muroi muttered, "You were running away from me just a minute ago," but then he smiled slightly and gently patted Al's head.

"There are two more bodies coming in this afternoon. It’s not too bad now, but the smell is only going to get worse as the day goes on. These days, I find myself thinking summer has arrived more from the smell of the bodies than from the sound of cicadas or wind chimes. You should brace yourself, Muroi," Koyanagi warned.

Muroi smiled wryly. "I’m usually okay with smells."

"He’ll have to experience it sooner or later, so don’t scare him now," Akira, unusually, cut in. Koyanagi shrugged, saying, "Well, yeah, but…"

"Remember that one associate who couldn’t handle the smell and dropped out? I thought if I gave a heads-up, it might help build some mental resilience for when they actually encounter it."

"Yeah, but if someone can’t handle the smell, there’s not much you can do about it."

Come to think of it, Al realized he had never seen a badly decomposed or dismembered body. Even though the center received bodies daily, Akira only allowed him to help with those that were relatively fresh and in good condition, with blood still usable. Whether it was out of consideration or a personal policy, Al wasn't sure.

"Speaking of which, Kane, who lives with Takatsuka, is working as a model in Japan, right?" Muroi suddenly dropped a bombshell. Caught off guard, Al let out an involuntary "Squeak!"

"…A model?" Akira turned around. Al, in a panic, tried to disrupt the conversation by screeching "Squeak! Squeak!" loudly, but Muroi scolded him with a "Quiet down," completely oblivious to Al’s distress.

"Yes, Kane-san. He’s working as a model in Japan, right? I saw him in a magazine that Tsuno had... Takatsuka...?" Akira’s glare was clearly directed at the bat on Muroi’s shoulder, but Muroi, misunderstanding, trembled slightly. Akira strode over, yanked Al roughly from Muroi’s shoulder, and held him in his hand. Al trembled in fear, feeling the heat and strength of Akira’s grip.

"What magazine is this?"

Al gulped. Akira, suddenly raging like a bull, made Muroi hesitate visibly.

"W-Well, I don’t know much about it. It was just in a magazine on Tsuno’s desk..."

Akira approached Tsuno's desk, flipped over the magazine that had been lying there, and started to leaf through it. His hand stopped abruptly. Al let out a small, despairing "Squeak..."

There he was, posing in a branded suit, his short hair slicked back with styling gel, and his eyes likely hazel from the colored contacts he had worn. As a bat, Al could only see in monochrome, so he wasn’t sure about the color outcome.

"What the hell is this about?"

Akira brought the bat close to his face, almost snarling as he shouted.

"Squeak, Squeak... Squeak..."

Al’s voice grew weaker and weaker. He lowered his head, folding his ears back. There was no excuse to offer. It was true he had secretly worked as a model behind Akira’s back.

“What do you mean by this?!” Akira demanded.

“There’s no point in taking it out on Al, the bat,” Koyanagi said, grabbing Akira’s trembling shoulder.

“You don’t need to be so angry. What’s the harm in being a model? Kane’s a handsome guy, after all.”

Right then, the door swung open with impeccable timing, drawing everyone’s attention to Tsuno, who had just returned from his task. Noticing the unusual atmosphere and all the eyes on him, Tsuno looked around nervously, asking, “Uh, what’s going on?”

“Tsuno, I need to talk to you. Come with me,” Akira said as he exited the room, still holding Al. Tsuno hurried after him, clearly flustered. Akira led him to a small courtyard between the center and the funeral hall, then abruptly turned to face him. Tsuno stood frozen, his face showing fear.

“Why did you make him work as a model?” Akira’s single question made Tsuno’s face turn pale, as if he instantly understood the entire situation.

“I told him it wasn’t allowed.”

“I’m s-sorry. Kane-san told me it would be fine as long as you didn’t see the final product…”

Akira’s grip on Al tightened, almost crushing him. Although Al wouldn’t die from being squeezed, the pain was still something he wanted to avoid.

“We agreed it would be a one-time thing. Kane-san’s profile wasn’t disclosed at all. Is there something else about him appearing publicly that would cause problems? I was concerned about his contract with the American modeling agency, but he said that had been terminated…”

Akira’s mouth tightened into a hard line. Even though nothing illegal had been done, there was no way he could mention his past of escaping from the police.

“Even though you didn’t want him to, I’m sorry I asked Kane-san for help. But we were really saved by his assistance. My sister had just started a modeling agency specializing in foreign models, and she didn’t have many on the roster. If we had backed out, it would’ve damaged the agency’s reputation. Kane-san didn’t try to deceive you; I think he lied because he wanted to help us. Please don’t blame him.”

Akira gritted his teeth, clearly struggling with his emotions. But he said nothing. The silence stretched on, feeling like an eternity to Al, who was trapped in Akira’s increasingly tense grip.

Finally, Akira exhaled heavily and turned his back on Tsuno, heading back to the break room without another word. Koyanagi and Muroi, who had been chatting when Akira entered, fell silent as soon as he walked in. With all eyes on him, Akira dropped heavily into his chair, opened a drawer in his desk, and unceremoniously shoved Al inside before slamming it shut. In the cramped darkness, Al heard the metallic click of a lock.

“Squeak, Squeak, Squeak!” Al cried out loudly. Although he liked dark places, being trapped with no freedom was unbearable.

“Takatsuka-san, um… isn’t that a bit tight for Al?” Koyanagi’s voice sounded from outside the drawer.

“You know, Al is sensitive and easily lonely. It’s cruel to lock him up like that,” Koyanagi added.

Encouraged by Koyanagi’s support, Al chirped, “Squeak, Squeak! (Yeah, exactly!)”

“Shut up! Be quiet!” Akira’s angry shout was followed by a loud bang as he slammed the desk, making the air around them vibrate with tension. Al shrank back in fear. It was no use…no matter what anyone said, it wouldn’t work right now.

Inside the dark drawer, surrounded by pens and rulers, Al thought about why Akira had locked him away. It was to stop him from escaping. But why would Akira do that?

Terrified, Al trembled. The thought of turning back into a human later that day filled him with dread.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The morning had been busy, but the afternoon became even more hectic with the unexpected arrival of an additional body on top of the scheduled ones. As a result, almost everyone was out of the break room most of the day. Despite the rush, the procedures typically took two to three hours to complete. The bodies in the afternoon were in relatively good condition, so by late afternoon, everyone gradually returned to the break room.

At 6:00 p.m., the end-of-day chime sounded. While most people left with casual "Good job" and "See you tomorrow" farewells, Akira remained by his desk.

About thirty minutes to an hour after the chime, the sound of the drawer unlocking finally echoed through the room. Al, who had been hiding in the corner of the drawer, was pulled out and taken to the changing room. As Akira locked the door, Al seized a moment of Akira's inattention and escaped from his terrifying grasp, fleeing to the top of a locker.

Akira clicked his tongue in annoyance but didn’t try to climb up after Al. Instead, he took a folding chair from the corner of the room, placed it in the middle, and sat down heavily, glaring up at Al on top of the locker. He was clearly waiting, ready for Al to turn back into a human.

Al wished he could stay in bat form just for tonight, but time marched on mercilessly. And, as usual, his body was loyal to the sunset. As the clock on the locker approached 7:00 p.m., Al felt the familiar sensation begin. His entire body warmed up, his short limbs stretched out, and the light brown fur that covered him was absorbed into his skin, revealing pale flesh.

In just a few minutes, he had completely transformed back into a human. Curled up like a cat, Al remained on top of the locker in his birthday suit. Akira came closer, hands on his hips, and commanded, "Get down here, now!"

Al peeked down at Akira from atop the locker. "Akira, are you mad?"

"Of course I am!" Akira’s shout echoed through the room. "Why did you agree to model when I told you not to?"

"Because Tsuno was in big trouble," Al explained.

"But if you got caught, it would have been a huge problem!"

"I was sure I wouldn’t be found. I wouldn’t get caught," Al said, trying to reassure him.

"How can you be certain of that?! There’s no guarantee! You brainless idiot!" Akira kicked the locker in frustration. Al shrank back further into the locker, trying to retreat from Akira’s anger. Annoyed by this, Akira moved the folding chair closer to the locker and climbed onto it.

With the extra height, Akira reached for Al and managed to grab his leg. Feeling himself being dragged down, Al let out a desperate "Nooo!" and clung to the edge of the locker. But with both legs being pulled, his fingers began to go numb.

Akira grabbed Al by the waist and half-pulled him out of the locker when suddenly, Al felt a heavy weight pulling him down.

"Whoa!" Akira cried out, losing his balance and falling off the chair. Because he was clinging to Al's waist, he fell along with him. Fortunately, Al didn’t feel any pain because he landed directly on top of Akira, using him as a human cushion.

“Ouch!” Akira’s pained voice came from beneath him. Al quickly scrambled off the human cushion, worried.

"Are you okay?" Al asked with concern, but Akira shot him a fierce glare.

Still grimacing in pain, Akira tried to twist his body slightly to the side, only to cry out again, "Ugh!"

Al jumped back in shock.

“…My tailbone hurts,” Akira muttered. Al wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but it seemed like Akira had hit his butt hard enough that he couldn’t get up. Al looked around anxiously. What should he do in this situation? The hospital—it had to be the hospital. He needed to get Akira to a doctor.

"Should I call an ambulance?"

"Are you an idiot? We can’t call an ambulance for something like this!" Akira snapped.

So what should he do then? Was he just supposed to stand by and watch Akira writhing on the floor? Just as Al was feeling lost, a voice came to his rescue.

"Um... excuse me," someone called from outside the changing room. "I heard a loud noise. Is everything okay?"

It was Tsuno, without a doubt. Al hurried to the door, unlocked it, and flung it open.

"Tsuno, help!"

Tsuno, with a shoulder bag slung across his shoulder, screamed, "Waaah!" and slammed the door shut.

"Tsuno, what’s wrong?" Al tried to open the door again, but Tsuno was pushing back from the other side. Al was confused.

"I’m sorry for interrupting!" Tsuno’s voice came through the door, almost like a shriek.

"We’re not doing anything!" Akira yelled.

"My apologies for intruding at a bad time," Tsuno corrected himself, which made Al suddenly remember that he was completely naked.

"Well, um... I’ve been worried about what we discussed earlier, so I came back. Kane-san took on the job for my sake, so please don’t be angry with him."

"What he did to help you and why I’m mad at him are separate issues."

"I don’t really understand what you’re saying, Takatsuka-san."

"Let me make it clear to you. Get in here."

"N-No, thank you," Tsuno declined, his voice hesitant.

Akira tilted his head in confusion. "Al, why won’t Tsuno come in?"

"Because I’m naked," Al explained.

"Then hurry up and put some clothes on!" Akira snapped, raising his right hand, but immediately cried out in pain.

"Akira?"

Akira’s face was pale, and his mouth quivered. Just moving his arm seemed to cause pain in his butt, and he froze in an awkward position, like a statue. It was clear this was beyond what Al could handle alone.

"Tsuno, Tsuno, help!" Al opened the changing room door and, despite Tsuno’s strange muttering, "Oh no, please, no," he dragged him into the room.

"Help Akira," Al pleaded.

Seeing Akira frozen in a bizarre pose, Tsuno sighed with relief and said, "Oh, Takatsuka-san is dressed," then tilted his head in confusion. "Takatsuka-san, what are you doing?"

"Akira’s butt hurts," Al answered for him. "He was holding onto me and wouldn’t let go, so this happened."

Tsuno’s expression shifted to seriousness. He approached Akira. "Is it really that painful?"

"Moving sideways or even lifting my arm hurts. This is the worst... especially since that idiot landed on me," Akira grumbled.

"I see," Tsuno said in a low voice before leaving the changing room. He returned a few minutes later with a stretcher used for transporting bodies. Together with Al, who had finally put on some clothes, they helped Akira onto the stretcher. Even though Akira didn’t make a sound, his pale face and sweaty forehead suggested he was in considerable pain. Noticing this, Tsuno explained the situation to Matsumura-san at the reception desk and borrowed the hearse they usually used for transporting bodies. The hearse was equipped to carry a stretcher, minimizing the strain on Akira.

Although Akira wasn’t a corpse, he was taken to the hospital in the hearse typically used for body transport. Once in the examination room, he was moved to a small bed, and the doctor instructed him, "Okay, take off your pants."

A short while later, a loud "Ughyaaa!" echoed through the room. Al heard the scream from the waiting area outside.

"Ow! What did you stick in there? Take it out!" Akira yelled.

"Relax, it won’t hurt. I’ll pull my finger out right away. Hmm, it’s strange.. I heard it was bad enough that you couldn’t move, but there’s no visible injury, no bleeding, and nothing seems torn. We might need to use an anoscope to check inside."

"Why are you looking inside my butt?! The pain is in my tailbone!"

"Oh, if it’s the tailbone, that’s orthopedics. Why did you come to proctology?" The doctor asked in confusion.

"I… I didn’t know!" Akira snapped.

It turned out that Akira had been sent to the proctology department by mistake due to Tsuno's well-meaning but misinformed request to the receptionist. After the mix-up was sorted out, Akira was transferred from the proctology department to orthopedics.

After the examination, Akira was diagnosed with a bruise. Although there was no damage to the bone, he was instructed to rest at home for three days and avoid any strenuous activity until the pain subsided. He received a painkiller injection, and by the time they were ready to leave, Akira could manage to walk with some assistance, albeit hunched over.

"I’m sorry, Akira," Al repeatedly apologized in the taxi on the way home, but Akira, his forehead creased with anger, didn’t say a word in response.

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