Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 3 - Part 3

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About a week after that conversation, Al, as usual, rode on Akira's shoulder to work at the center. When Akira gave the bare minimum of greetings to the young receptionist and was about to head to the break room, he was stopped by Matsumura from the office, who called out, "Takatsuka-kun, wait a minute." Matsumura, who looked far younger than her mid-forties, was slender and youthful and handled all the embalming-related administrative work at the center.

"You submitted a vacation request the other day, right? It's been approved."

A brief expression of relief flashed across Akira's face.

"I thought it might be impossible since it was for a long period..."

Matsumura winked cutely.

"Taking a long vacation every once in a while is fine. No one would complain. You're the hardest worker here, after all. Besides, last year you hardly used any of your paid leave because of Koyanagi-kun's wife's situation. Take this chance to relax and enjoy yourself. Still, I'm so jealous of your eight-day break. Where are you going? Overseas?"

Al looked up at Akira in surprise. He hadn’t heard anything about taking a long vacation.

"Yeah, something like that."

Akira didn’t deny it. So, he was planning on going on a trip abroad. When would he go? Would Al be left home alone during that time? Unable to bear it any longer, he chirped, "Squeak-squeak (Akira, where are you going?)"

"Looks like Al is jealous too," Matsumura said with a chuckle, as Akira quickly walked down the hallway.

"Squeak-squeak (Hey, where are you going?)"

Even though he knew his bat voice wouldn’t be understood, Al couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Shut up and be quiet. I'll explain later."

Realizing why Al was squeaking, Akira scolded him. Al, perched on his shoulder, drooped his head in dejection. When they entered the break room, Tsuno had already arrived and was reviewing the day's schedule.

"Good morning, Takatsuka-san. Um... May I take charge of the body from the car accident this morning?"

Akira's head tilted slightly.

"With the facial injuries, it’ll take quite a while to repair."

"I don't mind. I want to work on facial reconstruction since I don’t get many opportunities."

"...Alright. It's yours."

As they were talking, Koyanagi and Muroi also arrived.

"Good morning, Al."

Koyanagi, who was two years younger than Akira but had recently been losing hair at the top of his head, always greeted Al first when he arrived. Al flew over to Koyanagi’s sturdy shoulder and chirped back, "Squeak-squeak."

"Takatsuka-san, I think the body of Isaka Koji will arrive around 10 a.m. Would it be alright if I handled it? He was a friend of my wife’s family."

One by one, the bodies were assigned to different people. Muroi assisted Tsuno with the time-consuming reconstruction. Akira offered to help Koyanagi, but Koyanagi declined, saying, "It's fine. It's not that bad. You should take it easy, Takatsuka-san."

By ten o’clock, the break room was empty, except for Akira and Al. It was another sunny day, so before heading to the treatment room, Tsuno had prepared a water bowl for the bat’s bath. He was truly a thoughtful and kind person.

"Hey, Al. Come here."

Akira sat down on the sofa with a serious expression. Recognizing that this was going to be a serious conversation, Al lay face down on the table across from him.

"...Three or four days ago, I talked with Sakeiri on the phone. I agreed to let you appear in the drama and go on location overseas, under certain conditions."

Al was genuinely surprised, thinking both were off the table.

"You’ll only appear in the first episode, and only for the part shot in America."

Even one appearance was quite a "concession" from Akira. Al chirped excitedly, "Squeak!"

"Sakeiri said the entire location shoot will take six days, with three days of actual filming. You’ll only need to be there for one night scene."

Which meant that apart from the night of filming, Al would be free to move around. He could visit Nebraska during that time.

"I’ve got the time off, so I’ll accompany you to America during the shoot."

So, the vacation was to accompany him. Overjoyed, Al flew to Akira’s chest and rubbed his head against him, only to be roughly peeled off.

"Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not going because I want to."

Al tilted his head while still held in Akira's grasp.

"...I knew it. With that tiny brain of yours, you didn’t think this through at all, did you? You don’t have a passport, so you can’t board a plane. Even if you could board as a bat, the flight to America is long. If it crosses into nighttime, you’ll transform back into a human and cause a commotion. The only option would be to freeze you as a bat and ship you to America. Who exactly did you plan to have receive your frozen bat body and thaw you out?"

Now that Akira mentioned it, Al realized he had no argument and let out a weak "squeak." There was a knock on the break room door, followed by Matsumura's voice, "Takatsuka-kun, can I come in?"

"Oh, sure."

When Matsumura entered, she looked around and said, "Oh?"

"I heard voices, so I thought someone else was here."

Her gaze landed squarely on Al, who was still clutched in Akira's hand.

"Takatsuka-kun, were you talking to Al?"

"Uh, well... yeah..."

"And I think I heard something about America?"

"I was just trying to explain why he’d have to stay behind while I go abroad..."

Matsumura chuckled at Akira's poor attempt at lying.

"Al is a smart bat, but I think understanding that might be a bit beyond him. Anyway, I came because the internal phone line in the office is acting up, and we received an embalming request from S University Hospital. It’s for a patient who passed away from cancer. Can you handle it?"

"...Yeah."

"Okay, I’ll let them know."

As soon as Matsumura left, laughter could be heard from the other side of the door. Akira clicked his tongue in annoyance, then roughly tossed Al aside before sinking deep into the sofa.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The American location shoot was scheduled for late October. Al was to be frozen five days before Akira’s arrival in the United States and shipped to the home of a friend of Akira’s in Chicago, just in case. Normally, it’s difficult for an individual to send frozen goods to America, but since Koyanagi’s family ran a large food company, they managed to secure space for Al in a freezer container on a plane meant for exports. Apparently, when Koyanagi was studying abroad in America, he used that container to receive frozen homemade dishes from his mother.

When Akira asked Koyanagi to ship Al, pretending he was a “rare delicacy caught in the coastal waters of Japan” and saying, “I want my American friend to taste it”, Koyanagi immediately agreed, saying, “I’m always indebted to you, Takatsuka-san. Consider it done.” Without needing a passport or a plane ticket, and arriving in America while asleep, this might even be easier than traveling as a human.

Even if he only turned human at night, Al still needed clothes and underwear. He carefully selected four or five days’ worth of clothing and underwear from the closet, preparing them for Akira to take along. As he packed his bag, Al hesitated. It had been a year since he last returned to his homeland. He wanted to give his parents a gift, but he couldn’t exactly say, “This is from your long-dead son.” He’d have to leave it at the door without being noticed. But if he didn’t write the sender’s name, it might be thrown away as something suspicious.

Still, he wanted to give them something. As he agonized over what to do in front of the bag, Akira’s smartphone rang. Since Akira had gone out to the convenience store, Al thought it might be something urgent and picked up the phone. As a bat, all he could do was watch the phone ring, but now, as a human, he could listen to the message and pass it on.

“Hello, this is Takatsuka’s phone.”

“Hi, Akira.”

The Japanese was a bit odd. Actually, it sounded more like English. Al tilted his head.

[“It’s been a while. I was happy to hear from you the other day.”]

It was definitely English.

[“Akira’s out right now. He should be back soon, but if you have a message, I can relay it to him.”]

When Al responded in English, the person on the other end said, [“Oh,”] in surprise.

[“Ah, sorry about that. You’re not Akira, are you?”]

The man’s voice was soft and gentle, probably in his fifties.

[“Who are you?”]

For a moment, Al looked up at the ceiling. He couldn’t exactly say, “I’m a vampire.”

[“I’m... well, I’m Albert Irving. I’m staying at Akira’s place for a while.”]

[“That kid is living with someone?”]

The man’s voice sounded shocked, but he quickly apologized, [“Sorry for raising my voice.”]

[“I just never imagined that kid would live with anyone. I’m Richard. Richard Carlisle. Could you let Akira know that I called? It’s not urgent, so I’ll call again later.”]

Al’s hand trembled as he held the phone. Richard Carlisle... one of the most famous movie producers in America. What could such a big industry name want with Akira? Then again, it could just be a coincidence in names, but it was worth asking.

[“Are you, by any chance, the movie producer?”]

Al hesitantly inquired.

[“Yes, that’s me. Have you perhaps heard about me from Akira?”]

Al let out an “Oh” at the other end of the line and gripped the phone tightly.

[“I’m a huge fan of yours. Every movie you’ve produced is fantastic, and you were amazing as an actor, too. The movie Hot Beach was the first movie I ever watched with a girlfriend. I even spilled popcorn on the floor, but I was so captivated by your portrayal of Chris that I didn’t even notice. The scene where he’s swallowed by the huge wave left a lasting impression on me. I still haven’t forgotten the impact of that moment.”]

Al blurted it all out in one breath, panting from speaking so quickly that he’d forgotten to breathe.

[“You remember an old film like that so well. But to be honest, that movie didn’t do so well at the box office. And the surfing scene you were so impressed by, that was actually done by a professional stunt surfer.”]

Richard’s tone was slightly sarcastic, almost as if teasing.

[“That doesn’t matter at all!”]

Al clenched his right hand into a fist.

[“The impact of that scene only exists because of everything Chris had been through up until that point. No matter how well the stuntman performed in the wave, it would’ve meant nothing without Chris’s journey of selflessness and teaching the protagonist despite the dangers and prejudices he faced. Even if the surfing scene was done by a stuntman, it was your acting that brought all that emotion to life!”]

From the other end of the line, Al could hear Richard laughing.

[“I was never highly regarded as an actor, but it’s nice to know there’s someone who still remembers me. So, are you an American? What are you doing in Japan?”]

...In front of his idol, Al felt the need to embellish the truth just a bit.

[“I’m from Nebraska, and now I’m working as an actor in Japan. I couldn’t catch a break in America, but I’ve been getting roles in TV dramas here.”]

Richard responded with an intrigued, [“That’s interesting.”]

[“Choosing Japan, that’s really fascinating. I have a few Japanese friends myself, and at first, I found them mysterious, quiet, and hard to read. But as I got to know them, I realized they were kind, loyal, and incredibly sincere people. I grew to love them.”]

[“That’s exactly like Akira. He’s kind but unsociable and very difficult to please. He’s always scolding me about something.”]

From the other side of the line, a hearty laugh echoed, [“Ha ha ha.”]

[“You’re quite a charming kid.”]

Just then, the sound of the front door opening reached Al’s ears. Akira had returned. The owner of the house glanced at Al, who was holding the phone, as he rustled a convenience store bag.

"Is it Nukariya?" Akira asked.

Al shook his head.

"Then it must be Mitani, the horror maniac."

To Akira, Mitani was more known for his love of horror than as a young, talented actor.

"Mitani... no," Al replied, shaking his head.

Akira tilted his head in confusion.

"Who else would be calling you? Sakeiri?"

Al thought that was a bit rude, but since it was true, he let it slide.

"Akira, phone," Al said, offering the phone.

"You should've said that first!" Akira snapped, snatching the smartphone from him. He shoved the convenience store bag into Al's hands, instructing him, "Put this in the freezer," before moving to the bed with the phone, making it clear that he didn’t want Al to overhear the conversation.

Inside the convenience store bag were five ice creams. When Al opened the freezer, he saw three more ice cream cups lined up. Akira acted as if he’d die without a steady supply of ice cream.

Since Akira was on the phone, Al didn’t want to make any noise. Instead of turning on the TV, he sprawled on the sofa and flipped through an American funeral magazine. Less than ten minutes later, Akira returned to the living room. He walked to the fridge, took out one of the ice cream cups, and plopped down heavily on the sofa, munching on it. As usual, his face wore a scowl that wouldn’t let anyone else come close.

"Akira, ice cream... good?"

"It's sweet."

That didn’t really answer the question, but Al decided not to push it. If he kept asking, Akira might snap, "What does it matter to you?" So Al just responded with a casual, "Hmm," and let the topic drop.

"I didn’t know you knew Richard," Akira muttered under his breath.

"Richard famous, very talented. I fan. Akira, you friend with Richard?"

Akira’s right cheek twitched. Though he clearly heard the question, he ignored it and continued eating his ice cream in silence. Judging by his reaction, he didn’t want to talk about it. Akira had once mentioned that he spent a few years in America training to become an embalmer, so maybe he met Richard back then. Still, it was amazing that he knew Richard Carlisle. If it were Al in Akira’s place, and he weren’t a vampire, he would’ve asked for a role in one of Richard’s movies, even a minor one.

"Do you want to meet Richard?" Akira suddenly asked, as if it were nothing important.

Al swallowed hard. His hesitation must have been interpreted as reluctance because Akira remarked, "What, you don’t really want to meet him?"

Panicked, Al quickly responded, "I want to! I want to! I really want to!" He nearly jumped off the sofa in excitement.

"I’ll introduce you when we get there."

Unable to believe the incredible stroke of luck, Al pinched his cheek. It hurt a bit.

"That is, if he has the time," Akira added.

Richard wasn’t an unknown actor someone could just meet without an appointment. His films regularly topped the box office in the U.S., and he’d been nominated for and won numerous Academy Awards. It was said that landing a lead role in a film produced by Richard was like securing your career as an actor.

If someone were given five minutes to pitch themselves to Richard, there would be no shortage of people willing to pay ten thousand dollars for the opportunity.

Richard’s immense popularity and influence in the film industry also meant he had many enemies. There were incidents where the set of one of his films was set on fire, and a man with a knife once crashed one of his lectures. Yet, these incidents only solidified his status further.

The thought of possibly meeting Richard made Al’s imagination run wild. He pictured himself being introduced to Richard through Akira. Richard, with his down-to-earth personality, would be charmed by Al’s witty conversation. When Al mentioned that he was shooting a movie in America, Richard would say, [“I’d like to see you act,”] and come to the set. Upon seeing Al’s performance as a vampire, Richard would be astonished.

[“Your acting is incredible! You’re a rare talent, the kind that comes along once in a decade. Please, I must have you in one of my films.”]

But what if that actually happened? Al was a bat during the day, so acting in a movie would be impossible. But if it were a night scene, maybe he could manage a small role. If he did get cast, he’d have to extend his stay in America. No, he needed to think this through—filming wouldn’t start right away, so he’d likely return to Japan first, and then head back to America when the time came. The best way to travel between America and Japan would still be in the frozen container. That meant he’d need someone in America to handle freezing and thawing him. He’d have to hire a manager who knew his secret and would never reveal it…

Just as his daydreams swelled like a balloon, they popped, bringing him back to reality. Akira had only said, "if Richard has time." It wasn’t even certain they’d meet.

When Al snapped out of it, Akira had already left the room. He had finished his ice cream and was now lying on the bed. To calm his excitement, Al took a shower. After drying off, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, checking his reflection from various angles. His body hadn’t changed since he became a vampire. His muscles weren’t particularly well-defined, but he had a lean, good build. He thought, modestly, that his face was reasonably attractive. Overall, he believed he had the looks to make it on the big screen.

He was starting to feel confident that he could handle a lead role. His fantasies kept swirling around because there were no limits to the possibilities.

Now that he thought about it, Akira never watched movies. He had told Muroi as much, and Al had never seen him go out to watch a movie or catch one on his computer or phone. Akira had zero interest in movies, yet here he was, connected to Richard, a movie producer. It was a strange combination. The two seemed to have nothing in common. It would make more sense if they were relatives.

Then again, maybe they really were related. Akira’s face had deep, chiseled features for a Japanese person. It wouldn’t be surprising if one of his parents were American.

After drying his hair, Al approached the bed. Akira was lying there, flipping through a magazine. He didn’t seem ready to sleep yet. Deciding to pack for the trip tomorrow, Al slipped under the covers beside him, saying, "Excuse me."

"Akira," he called.

"What?" Akira responded without looking up from the magazine.

"Um... Are your mom or dad American?"

Akira looked back at him with a puzzled expression. "What are you talking about? Look at me—I'm obviously 100% Japanese."

So much for the relative theory. Hugging his pillow, Al murmured, "Never mind."

He closed his eyes, but the thought that he might get to meet Richard Carlisle was too overwhelming, and sleep was still far off.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

On the day Al was to be frozen as a bat, Nukariya visited the apartment just after 7 a.m. It was an early hour, and it seemed he had come to see Al before his departure. He gently placed Al in his palm, stroking his head and back softly.

“It’s goodbye for a while. I’m going to miss you.”

Even though it wasn’t a permanent farewell, Al couldn’t help but feel a bit lonely.

“Squeak-squeak! Squeak-squeak! Squeak! (Don’t make that face, I’ll be back soon. Look forward to the souvenirs.)”

That’s what he tried to say, but sadly, it came out in the voice of a bat.

“That’s enough,” Akira interrupted, grabbing Al mid-sentence.

“I’m leaving soon. You should get to work too,” Akira said, and with that, he opened the freezer door and tossed Al inside. Al hit his head on the corner of a cup of ice cream and groaned, “squeak!” The door slammed shut, plunging him into total darkness. Al lay there, face down in the icy freezer, stunned. While he had accepted that he needed to be frozen, this was far too rough.

Couldn’t Akira have offered some comforting words like, “It’s going to be cold until you freeze, but hang in there”?

In the chilly darkness of the freezer, Al protested with a few weak “Squeak-squeak!” noises.

“Akira... um, are you really freezing him now?” Nukariya’s voice sounded a bit hesitant.

“Yeah. Koyanagi’s picking him up tomorrow morning. I could wait until I get back, but if there’s any trouble and I’m late, he might turn back into a human. Freezing him after he turns back into a bat tomorrow could be risky. Half-frozen would be a disaster.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean half-frozen or anything like that. I was just thinking you could be a little more gentle. It’s really cold in there. Maybe you could put a towel in with him?”

Exactly, that’s what Al had wanted—some consideration.

“That would make the freezing less efficient,” Akira replied, missing the point entirely.

“Well, yes, but... you know, this might be the last time I see Al.”

Shivering in the darkness, Al tilted his head. Why would this be the last time? He’d be coming back after the shoot.

“If you wanted a proper goodbye, I could take him out of the freezer for a bit.”

A silence fell between them.

“No, it’s fine. If I want to talk to him, I can call or video chat,” Nukariya replied, his tone a bit cool.

“If you just want to see him, come by on your way back. By then, he’ll be frozen.”

Akira might have been trying to be considerate, but who would want to visit a frozen bat? As expected, Nukariya let out a troubled sigh.

Shortly after, the two of them left. Al knew he should stay still to freeze properly, but the cold was unbearable. He began crawling aimlessly around the freezer.

He remembered reading a book about a mountaineer who had been lost in the snow and had died peacefully, wrapped in snow as if he were sleeping. Al had thought he’d freeze peacefully too, but reality was different. He suddenly recalled how unbearably cold it had been the first time he was frozen, alongside some beef. The memory only resurfaced now.

Suddenly, something hard bumped into his head. Annoyed, he lashed out at the object, knocking it against the wall of the freezer, where it bounced back. Curious, he sniffed it. Sweet... It was one of Akira’s stashed cup ice creams.

Al grinned despite the cold, and pried open the lids of all four cups, plunging his face into the ice cream, licking and clawing at it with both sets of talons.

He knew Akira would be furious, but since he’d be frozen, it wouldn’t matter if Akira yelled or hit him.

As he reveled in this small act of revenge against the insensitive Akira, Al froze solid, his face still buried in the ice cream.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The blazing yellow sun shone down intensely. Palm trees lined the main road. On the sandy beach, beautiful women in swimsuits were sunbathing, while surfers appeared and disappeared among the waves. The air was dry, and the scent of the sea was in the air. California’s summer was different from the familiar inland summer.

Al was walking slowly along the scorching beach. His head was sizzling with heat, and the sand beneath his feet radiated warmth. Gradually, the heat became unbearable. Hot, hot, unbearably hot.

Unable to take it anymore, he tried to dive into the sea. The shoreline was just ahead, but the more he walked, the farther away it seemed. Meanwhile, the temperature continued to rise, and the surfers and women in swimsuits began to melt like in a horror—or rather, an apocalypse—film. Impossible. But that’s how hot it was. It wasn’t just hot—it was boiling!

"Aw-ooouch!"

With a shout, Al leaped out of the scene. The intense sunlight that had been boiling him disappeared, replaced by a loud crash. He turned around to see a microwave lying upside down, with a faint wisp of smoke coming from its open door.

“Wh-where am I?”

Around him were a refrigerator, a large kitchen cabinet, and in the center, a kitchen table. As soon as he spotted the sink, he rushed over and turned the faucet on full blast. He plunged his head under the gushing water. He could almost hear the popping sounds inside his skull... Was his brain boiling?

[“Aaaahhh!”]

A scream that could tear through silk made him lift his head from the water and turn around. An old woman with white hair, dressed in a nightgown, stood in the doorway, her hands covering her mouth, her face pale with shock.

[“A-a burglar!”]

The old woman shouted in a raspy voice. Panicking, Al tried to explain, [“I’m not suspicious!”], but given that he was soaking wet and completely naked, he looked every bit the pervert.

The old woman hurried away, her footsteps echoing in the distance. Al didn’t want her to call anyone, but he himself had no idea how he ended up here. He was sure he had been on a beach in California... No, the only time he had gone to California was once, in his freshman year of college. After that... he was bitten by a vampire and became one himself...

In any case, staying here was a bad idea. Al slipped past the kitchen table and reached for what seemed to be the back door. Beyond the frosted glass, it was still dark outside.

[“Don’t move!”] a sharp voice commanded. Al froze and slowly turned around. The old woman had returned, gripping a gun with both hands, the barrel pointed straight at him.

[“If you move, I’ll shoot. This isn’t an empty threat. Put your hands on your head.”]

Al wouldn’t die from a gunshot, but it would still hurt. He raised his hands as instructed. If she called the police, and they started questioning him, they might discover he was an incomplete vampire...

[“Martha, what’s all the commotion?”] Akira’s face appeared in the doorway. Al instinctively shouted, “Akira, help me!” Seeing Al naked with his hands up, Akira clicked his tongue in irritation.

[“Martha, he’s not a burglar. He’s the friend I told you about yesterday.”]

[“What?!”]

The old woman, whom Akira called Martha, widened her blue eyes and stared intently at Al, then turned to look back at Akira.

[I thought you said he wouldn’t be here until tomorrow night.]

[“The schedule changed.”]

[“But he’s naked...”]

Just as she was about to say more, Martha’s expression suddenly changed, and she clamped her mouth shut.

[“Oh, I see.”]

Martha finally lowered the gun and slipped it into the pocket of her nightgown.

[“This might not be the best time but let me introduce you. This is my friend, Albert Irving.”]

Suddenly being introduced, Al was flustered. He was still completely naked. No matter how much he bent over, it didn’t change this embarrassing situation. Desperate, he looked around and saw some kitchen paper towels by the sink. He quickly grabbed two or three sheets, covered his groin with them, and, still bent over, approached the old woman.

[“Hello, I’m Albert.”]

[“I’m Martha. Nice to meet you. Al, next time you walk around the house, please wear some pants.”]

Martha’s lips smiled, but the coldness in her blue eyes remained.

[“Akira, you need to make sure your boyfriend knows these things.”]

[“Martha, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a friend.”]

[“Even so! If you hadn’t shown up, I might have shot him!”]

Martha scolded Akira harshly. He didn’t say a word in response, just lowered his head, looking embarrassed.

[“...It’s almost time. Martha, I’m sorry, but we’ll talk later. Al, come with me.”]

Akira beckoned Al to follow him. Though it was dim, just walking across what appeared to be the living room was enough to get a sense of how large the house was. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, curtains with rich drapery, large decorative vases scattered around, and intricately designed sofas.

They climbed the stairs, and Akira opened the door to the first room at the top.

“Get in quickly. The sun’s coming up.”

As soon as Al dashed into the room, the door slammed shut behind him. The guest room was about twice the size of Akira's room in Japan, with a bathroom on the right. The large bed in the center was a grand canopy style, and the room was furnished with heavy Victorian-style antiques.

"Akira, where is this?"

“Obviously in America! Why do you think you were frozen?”

"I woke up... and it was hot."

Hot enough to have nightmares about melting in California. A disturbing thought crossed Al's mind—he remembered the image of a smoking microwave. A bad feeling crept over him. Could it be...? Could it really...?

"Did you... microwave me?"

“There was no time,” Akira replied, unbothered.

Al clenched his fists and shouted, “That’s terrible!”

“You boiled my brain!”

“I made sure to defrost you gently!”

Akira glanced at his watch and clicked his tongue.

“There’s no more time. We can’t wait for you to turn back into a bat.”

Akira opened a bag lying on the bed and tossed something to Al—a T-shirt and jeans.

“Put those on. We’re heading to the airport.”

Hurried by Akira’s impatience, Al fumbled out into the hallway, still struggling with the zipper on his jeans. Unfortunately, he ran into Martha, an old lady in a nightgown. In his haste to zip up, he forgot to put on underwear, and painfully caught the edge of his skin and hair in the zipper.

“Ouch!”

Even as he crouched down in pain, Akira yelled, “Hurry up!” Bent over, Al gave Martha a pained nod and followed Akira.

In the large, expansive garage, several old and luxury cars were lined up. Akira chose a Cherokee and climbed in.

“There’s less than an hour and a half until the flight. It’s going to be tight.”

The car sped through the night, which was slowly giving way to dawn.

“At first, I thought about carrying you frozen in a bag. It’s quieter that way. But if they flagged you as a dead bat at the security check, it would take too long. So I decided to thaw you first and register you as a pet for in-cabin transport. By the time we get to the airport, you'll turn back into a bat... huh?”

By the time Akira turned around, Al had already reverted to a bat and was buried inside the T-shirt.

“Get out of there.”

When Al didn’t move, Akira roughly rummaged through the shirt.

“Hey!”

Plucked out from the clothing, Al clutched his crotch with both claws, squeaking softly in distress.

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