A/N: This story is a continuation of Wedding Night I and II. It also serves as a prelude to the next few chapters. 

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The Tanimura Household, Fall of 1912

The past year had been satisfying for Tsuru in more ways than one. To put things into polite terms, she'd received the good fortune of being wedded to Hideo, with who she had been infatuated with for years, and he had proven himself more than capable of handling her carnal desires. No matter what she fancied, he would allow her to experience it, and now she was pregnant with their first child.

The prospect of motherhood excited and frightened Tsuru. On one hand, she couldn't wait to hold an adorable little baby in her arms, but on the other, she knew that newfound parental responsibilities might put an end to her wild nights with Hideo. Which was a shame, since regardless of his strange habits, he had a physique that would leave most in envy or awe. To be denied the chance to enjoy him while she was still in her prime would be a travesty, so Tsuru once again turned to prayer in the hope that the gods would make childrearing as burdenless for her as possible.

The stress of imminent parenthood eventually took a toll on Hideo too. He was beset by gray hairs for the first time in his life, and he would often shut himself in the spare bedroom for what Tsuru assumed was self-reflection, until the night she dared to push the door open and caught him engaged in conversation with none other than himself.

"Tsuru," he said, turning to face her with wide eyes. "This isn't what it looks like. I'm not a mad man..."

Tsuru nursed her swollen belly while impatiently tapping her foot. "You'd better have a good explanation. There's only so much I can overlook because you're handsome."

Hideo buried his face in his hands for a moment, then paced around the room with his shoulders hunched, like something was weighing down on his tall and very well-built body.

"I've got it," he said after some time, slowing to a stop just inches in front of her. Tsuru tried to predict his next move and was stunned when he reached out to grasp her shoulders and make an odd demand. "Change places with me. You come into this room while I walk out of it."

"Why?" Tsuru attempted to push Hideo's arms away, but his grip remained steadfast. "I don't see what it has to do with anything..."

"Please. Just this once," Hideo replied as his eyes filled with desperation. "You'll understand soon enough."

"Well, all right," Tsuru relented. The truth was that she didn't want to risk provoking Hideo's anger because as gentle as he was when around her, she could never quite shake the fear that he'd hurt her the way other men did with their wives. "I'll do as you say..."

"Thank you." Hideo let go and stepped out into the hall. "You can go in now. There's a brush and some ink in the drawer. I want you to write something."

Tsuru was still confused at his request. "Write what?"

"Anything you want. It doesn't matter."

"I see..." Tsuru swallowed and trudged into the room. Her focus was drawn to the glowing paper lamp that sat on a tiny desk by the wall. She slowly approached as Hideo closed the door and left her alone to bask in the foreboding silence. With a sigh of discomfort, she proceeded to take a seat at the desk and pulled open the side drawer to find exactly what Hideo had described.

She arranged the brush and inkwell beside the roll of paper that was already laid out on the desk, then prepared to write something as instructed.

Her hand came to a stop over the page as uncertainty crept into her mind. Was this some kind of test or prank? Did Hideo expect her to show him what she had written? Or was it to remain known only to herself? These were all important questions, so she called out for her husband while hoping he hadn't wandered off. "Hideo, are you still there?"

"Yes," his deep and clear voice sounded from beyond the door. "Have you written anything yet?"

"No. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do afterwards."

"You stay where you are and let me guess what it is. If I turn out to be correct, then I want you to entertain whatever explanation I give."

"That's a strange game to play," Tsuru remarked. She pressed the tip of the brush against the paper and left a dark blot before deciding to write the name of her favorite color. Once it was done, she leaned back and rubbed at her belly. "Hideo, I'm finished. It's time for you to guess."

"All right." Hideo paused for a while, then gave his answer. "Purple."

Tsuru froze in her seat. He was indeed correct, but she couldn't believe it was anything other than dumb luck. It didn't take a genius to assume she would write something innocuous, so she insisted to Hideo that they try again.

"Whatever you say," he replied after another lengthy silence. "Write something else."

Oh, I will. Tsuru grinned and put brush to paper again. This time, she opted to write a sentence that Hideo wouldn't dare say even if he figured it out.

"I'm done," she soon announced, feeling satisfied with herself. "I wager you won't get this one right."

A few moments later, Hideo spoke with a weariness that suggested he would rather be somewhere else. "Once this baby is born, I want us to fuck ten thousand more times."

Tsuru stood up straight despite the pain it brought her, then took the table lamp and ambled towards the door. She swung it open to find Hideo leaning against the opposite wall with his head bowed in shame. He was evidently haunted by what he had said, but this was the least of Tsuru's concerns.

"How is this possible? Can you read my mind?"

Hideo raised his head and gave her his attention. "No. It's a little more complicated than that."

"Oh, really?" Tsuru stepped forward and allowed her belly to bump against his firm abdomen. "Please tell."

He glanced aside. "Not here. In my room, where my mother won't overhear us."

Tsuru stiffened upon remembering the other person who happened to live in this house. She nodded. "Of course. I understand."

She backed away from Hideo so that he could lead the way to his bedroom, where he performed a scan of their surroundings before closing the door. "All right," he began while making a clear effort to compose himself. "Don't be alarmed by this information, but I have the ability to see, hear, and speak to ghosts."

"What?" Tsuru said while blinking.

"There are three that live in this very house. I asked one of them to read over your shoulder and then report back to me."

"Rubbish." Tsuru refused to believe something so farfetched. "Only priests and priestesses have that power. How could you possibly have acquired it?"

"As I said, it's complicated. My father wasn't what everyone thought he was."

"You mean that reckless drunk and philanderer who left you and your mother to fend for yourselves?" Tsuru countered, repeating the words that her own father had used to describe the notorious and enigmatic Yasuhiko.

"You don't have to be so blunt, but yes, that's the kind of person he was until he got replaced."

"Replaced?"

Hideo made his way towards the chest of drawers on top of which was arranged a row of framed photographs. He ran his hand over the one that depicted him holding a bokken as a young boy. "My mother and I have reason to believe that my father met with some accident shortly after marriage. Either that, or he grew tired of his responsibilities and decided to run away for good."

"And? That's the story we've all heard." Tsuru glanced at her stomach and hoped that she wouldn't be abandoned as well.

Hideo turned away from his collection of photographs. "It's what happened afterwards. An impostor showed up at this house and claimed to be Yasuhiko. But my mother realized that something was wrong and decided to confront him about his true identity one afternoon. That was when he gave a wicked laugh and vanished into thin air."

Tsuru rubbed at her tired eyes. "So, your father was a ghost?"

"No, he was something else." Hideo came close again and lowered his voice to a whisper. "He was a tanuki."

Tsuru flinched and regained her alertness. "You're joking. You look no different from any other human."

"Exactly." Hideo went and sat on the edge of his bed. "My father happened to be in human form when I was conceived. If not, then it's likely I would have been born a furry abomination and killed before I could see the outside world."

"Yet, you're here right now, and I still don't quite believe it."

"Hence, my ability to perceive ghosts," Hideo continued, paying no heed to her skepticism. "It can happen for a number of reasons, and one of them is being born to a human and a yōkai. Although, if we're going to be pedantic, there's a physical trait that I might have inherited from my father, after all."

Tsuru looked him up and down. "Like what? Your tall stature?"

"You could say that."

"You're shameless. I hope none of our children end up like you."

Hideo frowned, offended by her quip. "The feeling is mutual. You're an obscene woman, and I dread what you'll teach our daughter."

"Wait a minute. How do you know?"

"I don't," Hideo interjected. "It's just a matter of chance, since pregnancy is clearly the only way to curb your ridiculous appetite."

Tsuru's hand dropped to her side in a moment of horror. She would never see the developing life inside her womb the same way again. "You... you did it on purpose, didn't you?"

"Yes." Hideo lay back with a sigh. "You don't know how nice it's been to have peaceful nights again."

"You fiend. I'll make you pay as soon as this is over."

"Be my guest. Ten thousand is an impossible number, no matter how you look at it."

There was nothing more Tsuru could do to sway his mind, so she stormed out of the room and towards the chamber that had been set aside for her to endure the rest of her pregnancy in. My dear ghost-seeing husband. You may have won the battle, but rest assured, I shall win the war and suck you dry until we're both old and senile! Just you wait!