After much browsing, Tsutomu had managed to put together an ensemble consisting of a teal Hawaiian shirt, black jeans, and black loafers. He hoped it would satisfy Kumiko's high standards, and while making the journey back to her apartment, he also couldn't help but dread meeting Futoshi again.

It was still unclear to him what creature the fellow really was, though he guessed it was probably something more curmudgeonly and less beguiling than a fox, which reminded him - Kumiko had neglected to impart where her landlord could be found.

He paused with his shopping bag in hand, realizing that the best bet was to knock and ask one of the other tenants for information. He pressed forward with this in mind and began with none other than the door marked with a number one.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" A raspy female voice sounded from within before the door swung open with a click, revealing a stout middle-aged woman with thick eyebrows and garish red lips. Her mouth curled into a depraved smile that awoke a deep-seated terror inside of him. "Why, hello there. Did you fall from heaven? Or climb out of hell? Either one is fine by me..."

Tsutomu didn't bother to answer. He slammed the door in the ravenous housewife's face, then hurriedly moved on to room two. One whole minute later, a hunched elderly man with a bald head and a face as wrinkly as a dried plum tottered out to greet him.

"Good afternoon. What brings a young whippersnapper like you here?"

"I'm looking for the landlord. Is he around?" Tsutomu asked after bowing deeper than he was accustomed to.

"Why, yes. Mr. Kimura lives in room three." The elderly man croaked, pointing his index finger to the right.

"I see. Thank you, sir."

"Oh, and give my regards to Miss Takahashi if you can. A pretty young thing, she is. Pert breasts and long-"

"I... I'll keep that in mind!" Tsutomu blurted out, finding that such a request contained too much information for his liking. He took his leave while wondering if everyone in this building, save for Kumiko, was some kind of pervert. It seemed like being beautiful could be as much a burden as a privilege, and when he reached the last door on the first floor, his earlier apprehension had all but faded.

He reached out to ring the bell before a muffled crash startled him. He inched backward, hoping that the sound had resulted from some accident and not an intense physical altercation.

Seconds later, Futoshi pushed the door open in panic and seized him by the forearm. "Thank goodness you're here. You have to talk sense into her - she's knocked over my television!"

"What?" Tsutomu remarked, too overcome by confusion to try resisting the other man's grasp.

"No time to explain. Just come in!"

He allowed Futoshi to drag him into the living room, where it appeared that a small TV had indeed been pushed off its stand. Oh, what a mess. Who could he be talking about-

The answer became clear when a familiar and handsome young woman stormed in from the next room, her face flushed with fury.

Futoshi let go of his arm and nudged him forward, much to his confusion. "See, Yukari? He's fine. There's nothing wrong..."

"Whatever, geezer. Now, beat it and give us some time alone."

"Of course..." Futoshi left the room before Yukari turned to give him her attention.

"So, tell me, Ichiro. What's happening here? How are they treating you?" she asked, her angry expression turning into one of relief as she tugged at the hem of her black leather jacket.

Tsutomu's shoulders stiffened in guilt at the mention of that name. He couldn't keep pretending, and the time seemed right to put such a misunderstanding to rest. "Well, first of all, my name isn't really Ichiro."

"Huh? You mean it's an alias or something?"

"No, it's not even who I am. The truth is, my name is Tsutomu Higuchi. I'm a thirty-eight-year-old salaryman, and it might sound crazy, but this body was never mine, to begin with." He lifted his smooth hand for emphasis as Yukari bit her bottom lip.

"Geez, don't tell me you're acting again..."

"I'm not. I really mean it this time."

Yukari crossed her arms. "And how would I know? That sounds too crazy to be true, and besides, this isn't the first time you've changed your story."

Tsutomu knew that she had a point and lowered his head in thought. There had to be a way to get through to her. He managed to recall scraps of the conversation they'd had on Thursday; it had consisted of such topics as love and the possibility of immortality, with Yukari using a specific term to refer to herself.

Flesh specter. Something clicked in Tsutomu's mind, and he found the courage to counter her argument. "Funny you should say that. One would think you'd be able to relate, given that we're supposedly so similar..."

Yukari frowned, then lowered her voice to just a whisper. "If you're talking about resurrection, then I beg to differ. It's a pretty straightforward process - you bring one life back and lose another. My father learned that the hard way."

"Your father?" Tsutomu's curiosity grew. "What happened to him?"

"Nothing!" Yukari snapped as her expression grew even more severe. "He was an idiot, okay?"

"Uh, I see. Forgive me for asking..."

"It's fine. I can't help getting emotional sometimes," she explained, relaxing a little. "Still, I thought you'd know better after what happened with your wife..."

Tsutomu remembered the lie he'd told concerning Kumiko and decided to come clean about that as well. "That's the thing. Kumiko is Ichiro's wife, not mine."

"What? I don't follow..."

"How should I put it? She waited too long to bring him back and got me instead, for the most part."

"So, you're telling me that she waited thirty-eight years? Doesn't make sense with a hot guy like you..."

"Um, well. About that..." Tsutomu blushed and glanced down at the contents of his shopping bag, realizing the dilemma he'd landed himself in.

"Yes?" Yukari raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Well, Kumiko is..." He found that he didn't have the will to disclose his new friend's immortality and the fact that she was a kitsune. "...Never mind. I think Futoshi would be able to explain it better."

Yukari's expression became resolute. "No. I want to hear it from you."

"But-"

"No buts! I didn't go through all this trouble just so-"

A phone ringing in the next room brought a premature end to Yukari's statement and provided Tsutomu with some much-needed relief. The two of them remained affixed to their current positions as Futoshi's voice passed through the wall.

"Hello, who is this? Ah, Kumiko... Yes... You want to talk to him now? He's in the living room. I'll get him for you."

In less than a moment, Futoshi entered to usher Tsutomu to safety before the situation became difficult to manage again. He followed the old man without question until they came to a stop by the kitchen bench, and a white phone receiver was placed in his right hand.

Tsutomu brought the receiver up to his ear, excitement genuine as he greeted Kumiko.

******

As frustrating as it had been at times, Kumiko had refused to give up even while watching Akane from afar and wishing that she could join the party feasting on various types of grilled meat.

She was currently conversing with Tsutomu in a phone booth not too far from Pets First, the store that Akane had walked into about a couple of minutes earlier. Her eyes remained fixated on the entrance of the large building as he described the clothes that he had gone to the trouble of buying.

"So, what do you think?" Tsutomu asked upon finishing. "Would they suit your male form?"

"Uh, yes. Of course," Kumiko replied, even though she had yet to begin visualizing the sort of appearance she might have as a man. "I could definitely make it work."

"That's a relief. I was worried you'd be disappointed."

"Hey, it's no problem. I appreciate you helping me out."

"Don't mention it. Any luck with finding Akane?"

Kumiko remembered the unexpectedly mundane affair that was Bondage Beauty magazine's work lunch. "Yes. She went out to eat with her new coworkers, and oddly enough, they seem to get along pretty well."

"That... certainly is surprising..."

"But that's not all," Kumiko added. "Afterwards, she went to visit a pet shop. In fact, I'm right outside it now."

"What? Don't tell me..."

His rising intonation made it clear what he was hinting at. Kumiko didn't wish to consider the possibility, though she knew it was indeed likely that a flesh-eating spider would also want to feed on pudgy little animals from time to time. After all, she had once been a mere fox who'd gone to great lengths to catch rabbits and chew on their tough, gamy flesh.

"I hope it isn't the case," she sought to reassure Tsutomu. "But rest assured, I'll do something if it does..."

"That's good to hear. It would be a shame if some innocent animal got adopted, only to be eaten..."

Kumiko was inexplicably reminded of a time in the distant past when worn out from trying to catch an agile hare all day long, she'd resorted to digging into a rabbit warren and taking one of the shivering kits huddled inside. She gripped the receiver tighter, feeling shame and guilt at how remorseless she once was.

The notion that other lives might be just as precious as her own had not registered until she'd gained her third tail, and even then, it had taken a further two and a half centuries for her to completely embrace the idea and vow to kill only if there was no other possible course of action.

Her thoughts returned to Akane as she realized that perhaps, they weren't so different from each other after all.

"Kumiko, are you still there?" Tsutomu's voice rung out in concern.

"Yes, I am," she reassured, her focus returning to the world outside of the telephone booth. "I just got a bit distracted."

"Oh. Is there any other way I can be of assistance?"

"No, you just stay put for now. I'll call again when I have time."

"All right. Take care."

"You too," Kumiko said in reply, just as the doors of the pet store slid open and Akane strode out emptyhanded but with purpose. "I have to go now. Goodbye."

In a hurry, she hung up before Tsutomu had a chance to say anything else. She crept out of the booth and resumed tailing the jorōgumo, ducking into an empty alley along the way so that she could turn invisible once more.

As she came back out and rushed to catch up, something about her target's movements no longer seemed so sinister. In fact, Akane almost seemed like an ordinary young woman hurrying home from work, now that she had discovered what they had in common.

Perhaps, violence wasn't necessary, and it was possible to reform Akane through words alone.