Seiji is unaware of just how easily the fox reads his emotional state. If he were, he would certainly guard himself more closely, as he tends to do when faced with other humans. He is distracted soon enough, anyway, by a sudden small weight on his foot. With a start, he looks down to find the fox’s tiny companion wrestling with his bootlace. Again, laughter erupts from his chest. She isn’t so different from a little cat, is she?
Tolerating the little creature’s savage attack, Seiji ignores her long enough to pull the drawstring from the top of his bag. Then he steps back, leaning down to dangle the string in front of her — hopefully a more appealing toy than his only choice of footwear. He is reminded, forcefully, of another place. Somewhere from long ago: rain drumming on window panes and warm light spilling over cold floors. A different white furred animal lying on its back, twisting at the string he dangled above. But that one just a cat. He smiles, though the memory is bittersweet. The taste of something greatly missed, all the more because he cannot see the whole of it. Just pieces like this, snapshots into a life he left behind.
He glances over at the fox, taking its short bark as affirmation enough. “I’m glad,” he says, still toying with the string in his free hand. He has no good place to keep them, anyway, but if he needed to… Well, he would have tried to find them one. He cannot bear the thought of these gentle animals coming to harm. “I need to go back soon,” he tells them, a little rueful. “It gets dark too quickly out here.” Will they even understand the need for his goodbye? Or the meaning of it? He isn’t sure, but he puts it off a while longer, happy to stay in this moment of contentment.
Tolerating the little creature’s savage attack, Seiji ignores her long enough to pull the drawstring from the top of his bag. Then he steps back, leaning down to dangle the string in front of her — hopefully a more appealing toy than his only choice of footwear. He is reminded, forcefully, of another place. Somewhere from long ago: rain drumming on window panes and warm light spilling over cold floors. A different white furred animal lying on its back, twisting at the string he dangled above. But that one just a cat. He smiles, though the memory is bittersweet. The taste of something greatly missed, all the more because he cannot see the whole of it. Just pieces like this, snapshots into a life he left behind.
He glances over at the fox, taking its short bark as affirmation enough. “I’m glad,” he says, still toying with the string in his free hand. He has no good place to keep them, anyway, but if he needed to… Well, he would have tried to find them one. He cannot bear the thought of these gentle animals coming to harm. “I need to go back soon,” he tells them, a little rueful. “It gets dark too quickly out here.” Will they even understand the need for his goodbye? Or the meaning of it? He isn’t sure, but he puts it off a while longer, happy to stay in this moment of contentment.
