"Finally, someone has what I want," Hideo remarked, accepting the lighter from Futoshi before using it to ignite his cigarette. He inhaled just as he had done countless times during his life as a widowed father, only to find himself unable to tolerate the burning in his throat. He let out a cough and passed the lighter back to Futoshi, so that he could press a hand against his chest for relief.

"What's the problem? Not man enough anymore?" Futoshi taunted. "Looks like I have something over you, after all."

"Silence." Hideo raised his hand in front of Futoshi's face to appear at least somewhat threatening. "There's no such thing as smoking in the Underworld."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Fire is a precious commodity that cannot be wasted on individual pleasure."

"I see." Futoshi leaned back against the couch as Hideo put out the cigarette by stubbing it against the living room table. "So, how do you keep yourselves warm?"

"We wear appropriate clothing," Hideo replied, finding it strange that anyone could fail to understand. "Of course, shinigami like myself are only permitted to wear black and white. Bright colors are reserved for the court ladies and concubines."

"Huh." Futoshi glanced at Hideo's chest. "I guess that explains why I've never seen you out of that suit. How do you keep it clean anyway?"

Hideo frowned and wondered if such inane questions would become the norm with Kumiko's landlord. "With water and soap, which we have plenty of."

Futoshi straightened his back with a groan. "Well, sorry for being curious. I just want to know more, since I sensed something familiar inside of you earlier. Like I was meeting a long-lost friend or cousin."

Hideo's entire body stiffened as he recalled the unusual circumstances behind his birth. "What are you talking about?"

"The tanuki essence. It was heavily diluted by your human blood but was there all the same."

"You're just imagining things," Hideo said on impulse. "I'm not here to befriend you."

"That's not the point. What matters is I think I know who your father is."

"I beg your pardon?"

Futoshi held his hefty and wrinkled hands together. "You probably know that us tanuki are quite numerous, and there are at least a hundred packs living outside this city alone."

"Yes. What about it?" Hideo asked, trying hard to contain his sudden enthusiasm.

"It's not unusual for us to cross paths with each other, and gossip spreads fast even in the wild. Everyone knows about Gonza the Insatiable, who made it his goal to impregnate a female of every species by transforming into a different creature each time."

Hideo gaped, then regained enough control of his mind to shake his head in disbelief. "No, that's preposterous. Are you saying that I might be related to the bird I saw this morning?"

Futoshi shrugged like there was nothing strange about the idea. "It's possible, but Gonza did die before I was born. Chances are most of his descendants have bred out the tanuki side by now. Which leaves you as one of the only relics of his existence."

Hideo spent a few moments breathing as steadily as possible to avoid flying into a panic. He remembered how his mother Momoe had done everything she could to raise him properly in his father's absence, and it disgusted him to think that some malevolent creature saw her as nothing more than a conquest. He clenched his fists in anger.

"If this cursed story is true, then it's a shame that Gonza is already dead. I would have liked to kill him myself."

Futoshi gave a nervous chuckle and shifted back an inch. "Hey, look on the bright side. Gonza must have had good taste for you to turn out this way. You're a pretty handsome guy for your age, and I bet you were a real lady-killer once."

"Excuse me?" Hideo interrupted as memories of his youth came flooding back. "All of my friends were men, and the only woman I knew before marriage was my mother."

Futoshi continued to smile uncomfortably. "You know, that's not the achievement you think it is. These days, that's the sign of a loser who can't get laid."

Hideo refused to let Futoshi's words get to him and fired back with the best argument he could think of. "Well, I didn't see you putting up the same fight I did earlier, so you could say that my abstinence served me well."

"Oh, right." Futoshi looked crestfallen. "That amanojaku got to both of us, didn't it?"

"Indeed, he did," Hideo could only say in response. "But, now that I know a thing or two about Kumiko's fighting style, I'm sure I can be more prepared for a rematch."

Futoshi raised his head in alarm. "What?"

"Nothing of importance. I was just considering the possibility."

"Well, good luck. What you got today was just a fraction of her full power. She could probably kill us with a single blast if she wanted to."

"That's only true for you." Hideo remembered the many grievous injuries he'd sustained over the years and held out his arm for emphasis. "This body will always regenerate, given enough time. Just like my daughter's."

"So, what's your plan? Keep dying until you happen upon her weakness?"

"No, what I mean is that I can afford to get hurt every now and then. The pain hardly bothers me like it used to."

"Oh, is that so?" Futoshi smirked, then swatted one of his thick hands towards Hideo's face. Hideo shifted and grabbed the old man's wrist before squeezing hard enough to prompt a high-pitched yelp.

"That wasn't an invitation to hit me," Hideo scolded, barely able to contain his annoyance. He loosened his grip on Futoshi's wrist and flung it away. "Know your place."

"You need to calm down. I was just playing."

"Well, your games don't amuse me." Hideo glared at Futoshi for extra measure, and the full-blooded tanuki relented. "I take it you couldn't find Tsutomu?"

"No," Futoshi admitted with a sheepish grin. "I guess he went to spy on his wife and son again."

Hideo swallowed, knowing he would gladly do the same in Tsutomu's situation. He blinked while suddenly finding himself overcome with sadness that he had been without his family all these years. Moisture formed in his eyes, which did not go unnoticed by Futoshi.

"Holy crap. You're about to cry..."

Hideo sucked in a deep breath to suppress the unwelcome emotion before rubbing at his eyes. "Don't be stupid. I never do that."

Futoshi opened his mouth to utter what would undoubtedly be another pathetic comeback, but a knock on the door meant that Hideo never got to hear it. The tanuki slid off the couch and hurried out of the room. "Just a second. I'm coming!"

A click sounded and Hideo realized that he had neglected to use his spiritual senses when he heard the sweet and charming voice of Kumiko as she greeted Futoshi. It was a stark departure from the bitter and jaded attitude she'd had while fighting him, which served as a reminder that she really could be a merciless killer if she wished.

Hideo rose from the couch with caution and wandered into the cramped entrance hall, where it became clear how a sane young man like Ichiro could fall in love with someone so dangerous.

Kumiko looked every bit as beautiful and refined as an actress in her beige winter coat. Her makeup was subdued enough to accentuate rather than distract from her pleasant features, and Hideo couldn't deny that he'd be smitten too, if not for the memory of his late wife, who'd shown him just how pleasurable it could be to lie with a woman.

Lurking behind Kumiko was Lady Misaki, who wasn't quite as stunning, but still exuded a playful and innocent energy, akin to that of a puppy, which made him instinctively want to protect her.

"Mr. Tanimura, do you think I look pretty?" Lady Misaki asked, fluttering her curled lashes, and destroying any fantasies of having her as a daughter.

"You look adequate," Hideo managed to say despite his discomfort. "That is all."

"Oh." Lady Misaki cast her gaze towards the floor before turning around to seek comfort from Kumiko, who obliged by patting her on the shoulder and reassuring her that she was, in fact, beautiful.

Meanwhile, Futoshi watched the exchange with a chuckle that tested Hideo's impatience. "Looks like you have an admirer. Let's hope nobody else finds out..."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Futoshi gave a wave and trudged past Hideo. "Just be glad you get to accompany two pretty ladies."

A cool breeze swept its way into the apartment, giving Hideo a taste of the weather outside. He sighed, then forced himself to confront that while he was in a position most men would dream of, his role was essentially that of a glorified babysitter.

He cleared his throat and addressed Lady Misaki the same way he would a rookie shinigami. "Well, we should get a move on. The sooner we meet your brother, the better."