“Suzuki, what the hell are you doing?”

Reita looked up to see Kai stalking over, something akin to disbelief in his eyes.

He shrugged. “Washing rice like you told me to?”

There was a slightly hysterical note in his friend and roommate’s voice when he replied. “You’re not supposed to wash it with soap!”

Reita blinked and looked at the bowl in the sink, where soapy suds were emerging amongst the white grains. “Oh,” He said lightly. “I thought there was something wrong with that.”

A strangled moan of horror issued from Kai’s throat. He stalked over and grabbed the bowl, shoving Reita to the side unceremoniously as he grabbed a plastic basket and upended the spoiled rice into it. The bubbles seemed to wink at Reita as they fell from the water, crushed under small mountains of grain or popping from contact.

Briskly, Kai turned on the faucet and began washing away all of the soap, ranting the entire time as he did. “I don’t even know if you can eat this any more! But I’ll be damned if you waste several cups of perfectly good rice, and I don’t care if you can’t eat it, a little more base won’t hurt you, and didn’t I tell you to never try to cook again, especially after that one time when you nearly burned the apartment down—“


“You said you’d never mention that again!” Reita immediately said defensively. “And anyway, I’ve never washed rice before! How was I supposed to know?”

“Obviously.” Kai snorted contemptuously. “It’s just common sense, Reita.”

 
Reita gave a grunt in answer and slouched to the refrigerator. It hummed lowly when he opened it, spilling a slight yellow light onto the disgruntled blonde’s face. It closed again and Reita leaned against the counter, drinking straight from the carton.

 
“Don’t drink out of the carton,” Kai said absently as he gave up and tossed the rice away, giving the trash can a slightly mournful look as he did. Suddenly, his eyes snapped up. “Did you just drink all the milk?”

 
Reita wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, setting the carton down. “Yep.”

 
Kai groaned. “I thought I told you not to just this morning! I need that for my custard!”

 
Reita paused, then seemed to remember. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

 
The other man was annoyed by his seeming indifference. “Go to the store and buy me more!”

 
“What, now?” Reita asked disbelievingly.

 
“Yes, now. Shou-kun’s party is tomorrow and the custard needs to chill overnight.” Kai eyed the contents of the cabinet contemplatively before pulling out a slim orange box.

 
“It’s nine p.m., Kai!”

 
“Yes, exactly. Hurry up, the store closes at ten.” The black-haired man wasn’t even listening to him any more; he was absorbed in reading the directions on the back of his box.

 
Reita opened his mouth to argue, but he could see it was a lost cause. He scowled at the back of the baby-faced office man for a second before stalking to the door and grabbing his keys and jackets. Stuffing his shoes on, he opened the door.

 
“Get some of that liquid caramel for me while you’re at it!” Kai’s voice called after him.

 
He slammed the door shut in reply and started down the stairs. Outside, the streets were dark, lit only by the occasional streetlight dotted here and there down the road. The moon was completely full, blocking out the faint starlight beside it, but Reita paid little attention to that. A few cars passed by, their tires making slightly gravelly sounds as they rolled over pebbles and broken-up rocks. Reita ignored them, shoving his hands into his pockets as he lengthened his stride. The sooner he got to the store and got Kai his stupid milk, the better.

 
All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Reita froze, barely breathing as he waited for something, someone, to show up. Nothing. The feeling stayed.

 
There were moments when he felt like he was being watched. Now was one of those times. This time, though, it felt…different. Reita couldn’t put his finger on it. But after a few minutes, he forced himself to move again. The feeling remained.

 
His strides quickened, and he almost broke into a run when the lights of the convenience store came into view. He bolted through the automatic doors and relaxed when the feeling passed. A few late-night shoppers shot him odd looks before hurrying along their way, carts pushed towards the checkout aisle or grabbing another item of purchase.

 
Reita took his time seeking out the diary produce section. When he did, he lingered over rows and rows of milk, all neatly lined and labeled and color-coded. Not that he knew the difference, because milk was milk, after all, but he pretended to contemplate his choices seriously and dawdled.

 
There was, unfortunately, no line, so the checkout went faster than he expected. The cashier handed him his change and the milk in a bag, which Reita accepted with a small thanks, before wishing him a pleasant evening. Reita took a breath before stepping out of the store, sighing with relief when the feeling of being watched didn’t start up again. He set off for the apartment again.

 
Click. Click.

 
Reita tensed up and stopped short, shooting a quick glance behind him. The street behind him was empty. He started walking again.

 
Click. Click.

                                           
Overhead, the lamplight sputtered, as if to go out any second. Reita sped up again, hands tightening on the plastic loops of the shopping bag. He could feel his palms beginning to sweat. The moon shone brightly, drawing a silver line around the buildings around him.

 
Click click. Click click.

 
The sounds behind him were like those of a dog, feet padding almost silently along the road but for the ominous taps of claws on pavement. He could almost hear its heavy breathing, closer, closer.

 
Click click. Click click.

 
There was a sudden sound aside from the steps behind him. A twig, as it snapped in half. It shattered the half-paralysis that had settled over him. He broke into a run, and behind him, he could hear the four-legged footsteps picking up speed again, coming closer, closer, closer, closer.

 
The sounds of his breathing and the pounding of his own footfalls and heartbeat pulsed in his ear, impossibly loud. The bag swung back and forth precariously in his hand, and he could hear the milk sloshing around in its glass container.

 
There was a crack in the road that he didn’t see, and his foot got caught in it, throwing him off balance. He wheeled and stumbled, but fell forward painfully, the bag flying from his grasp and hitting the ground with a sickening crack. Reita scrambled to turn around and backed up against a wall. His eyes were wide and he nearly went slack jawed at the sight before him.

Large, luminescent yellow eyes. Great white fangs. Black mottled fur. Bottlebrush tail.

 
A wolf. A large one, at that. Reita had only seen wolves in pictures, but there was no way this was simply a stray or a dog with wolf blood. It was a full blooded wolf. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat bobbing. At the moment, he wasn’t quite going to ask what a wolf was doing in the crowded city of Tokyo.

 
In front of him, the fallen bottle of milk had rolled away from the plastic bag. The white liquid leaked from the crack in the glass, slowly pooling into a small white lake.

 
The wolf stepped towards Reita, pausing at the puddle and glancing at it curiously. Go for the milk, Reita thought desperately, irrationally. Go for the milk, go for the milk, leave me alone!

 
The wolf looked up at Reita, and seemed to laugh, lips baring a great white grin, showing far too many fangs for Reita’s comfort. A large pink tongue swiped across its chops and it stepped towards him again.

 
Closer closer closer closerclosercloserCLOSERCLOSERCLOSER!

 
It lunged. Reita’s eyes squeezed shut. There was a loud crack, like a gunshot. A long, pained yowl.

 
Reita’s eyes shot open. The wolf had leaped back, a small graze on its front foreleg. Already blood was welling from the cut. Standing a few yards away was the man from the bus stop a few days ago. Reita didn’t know how he recognized him, except for maybe that dark red hair. 

Held casually in his hand was a sleek black gun.

 
The wolf gave a great shiver and keened, back arching. Then, before his very eyes, it morphed, fur giving way to skin and hair and claws retracting to sharp looking nails. Reita’s could only stare. In the place of the wolf was a tall, tattooed man with multicolored hair. A small red scratch stood from his pale skin, bared from the sleeveless top the man despite wore the chilly night air.

 
“Ruki,” The werewolf whined. “What was that for? That bullet had fucking silver in it! That was low, man!”

 
“Sorry, Miyavi.” Ruki said, pocketing his gun and not sounding particularly sorry at all. “But you were about to eat a civilian. Against protocols, my friend.”

 
Miyavi pouted, something Reita thought was completely out of place on the tall man. “I wasn’t going to eat him,” Miyavi said. “Just chew on him a little.”

Reita blanched. Miyavi shot him a wide-toothed grin, making him pale further. Ruki snorted. “Leave the man alone, Miya. Go play elsewhere, and don’t let me catch you trying to take a bite out of any more humans.”

Miyavi gave a cheesy salute. Reita blinked, and suddenly the grinning wolf was in the place of the tattooed man. The wolf gave him a wink before disappearing around the corner. Reita remained frozen in place.

Ruki walked over. “Suzuki-san, isn’t it? I don’t suppose you remember me?” The short young man offered Reita hand that he took shakily.
 

“B-bus stop,” He replied. “Ah…Matsumoto-san, wasn’t it?” He tried to control his trembles.
 

He was rewarded with a bright smile. “That’s right. Glad you remembered. Sorry about that. Miyavi’s a bit…hard to control.”
 

“What was—“
 

“Sorry, Suzuki-san.” Ruki interrupted. “But I’m actually running late for a meeting. I know you have some questions,” He added when he saw the look of objection on Reita’s face. “Why don’t you drop by my office tomorrow by, let’s say, eight? You still have my address, right? It’s on the card I gave you.” Reita nodded. “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow, Suzuki-san. And if I were you, I’d hurry home now.” 

Ruki smiled one last time before disappearing around the same corner Miyavi
did, leaving Reita somewhat numb. He could hardly remember making his way back to his and Kai’s apartment, mind turning over the blue-black fur and golden eyes changing from wolf to human…

Suddenly, he stopped in his steps and cursed. Kai’s milk. He’d forgotten it on the pavement…and it was cracked besides.

He’ll be damned if he had to go back and buy more milk. Resolutely, he continued on his way home. Tomorrow better be informative.

 Comments: I liked this better than I did the last one. I know, werewolves aren't part of Japanese mythology. But there's a reason for that, and it'll be explainedi n the next chapter. Speaking of next chapter, yes, my ducks, I was swayed by everyone's encouraging comments and I decided to continue this story. ^-^ Kai seems a bit bitchy/bossy here, huh? But it's Reita. Tsk. Washing soap with rice. I'm disappointed in him. xD Anyway. Review, give me your thoughts.

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