The other boy stood up straight, snorted and waved a hand through the air dismissively. “Pah! You are the Ichijouji Ken!!! You aren’t like other people; you can’t be broken down like that. You’re beyond all that shit!” Tanuki’s eyes gleamed as he put his hands on his hips and smirked. “And if anyone thinks any different then I’ll teach them otherwise.”

Ken blinked once very slowly like a cat and then sighed and turned away again. Tanuki frowned. He wasn’t used to his wit and threats not being able to fix things. Ken normally did not demand things from him and he wasn’t sure what he was being asked for or if he could give it.

The wind blew, ruffling their hair as the voices of their schoolmates were carried to them from the yard. Tanuki stared hard at the back of Ken’s hair, his mind working furiously to find a reason for this sudden malaise. A bird chirped somewhere and the Coon sighed; Ken would say something in his own time. He didn’t have to wait long.

“I was thinking the other day.” His voice was faintly muffled by the way his head was turned. “Why do you think we’re here, Tanuki? Alive, I mean.”

“I dunno.” Tanuki shrugged in disgust, suddenly feeling annoyed by this line of conversation. “To grow, learn, and play?”

Ken uncurled and slipped off the edge of the railing to stand in front of Tanuki. When Ken turned back to him and his eyes were hard again, but there was still something empty in them—ice over a shimmering lake. “No. There is no reason.”

Tanuki lifted an eyebrow and settled back against the stone railing. He was feeling much more comfortable now that he was faced with this Ken. He knew what was expected of him. “Mmmm . . . How’s that?” he drawled carelessly.

Ken’s eyes narrowed and he looked around for a moment, searching for something. A brightly colored butterfly fluttered past his face and his hand snapped out suddenly, startling the white-haired boy in spite of himself, and effortlessly capturing the insect in a loosely closed fist. As Tanuki watched, Ken gently brought the fist holding the butterfly close to him and reached into it with his free hand to gently grip the fluttering creature by the wings and extricate it from the prison of his hand. It kicked its many legs and jerked pitifully in his grip.

Ken held it out and scowled faintly. “Look at it, Tanuki,” he ordered as he gave the butterfly an unnecessary shake. “Look at it. It would shake itself to pieces to escape my grip even though I’m not hurting it. It would tear off its own wings. Foxes chew their own legs off to escape traps and what is it all for? If I release this insect what will it do? Fly away, drain flowers, mate, and die. What is the point of that?”

Tanuki swallowed hard. “Ken . . .”

Ken made a noise of disgust and suddenly tore the butterfly’s wings off. Tanuki stared and felt a chill go through him. Ken tossed the kicking, wingless butterfly onto the stone railing. He watched it twitch and writhe in agony for a moment. “Do you see?” he muttered as he stared at it with a contemptuous sneer warping his delicate features. “It still struggles, even now. Even when it has nothing to live for, it still keeps trying!! Why?!” Ken clenched his hands into fists. “What is it all for?! What the hell is this all for?!”

There came a loud slapping noise as he suddenly slammed his open hand down onto the rail, crushing the butterfly. For a moment he stood stalk still, his eyes closed and his chest heaving as he took deep, hungry gasps of air. Tanuki looked at him emotionlessly, oblivious to the people who had stopped to stare at them at the sound of Ken’s enraged shriek.

The wind blew again, tossing Ken’s hair about his face mischievously. It absently occurred to the Coon that his friend look beautiful like that, with his hair going everywhere and his eyes closed like he was sleeping. Tanuki smiled.

Ken opened his eyes and smirked, a cruel expression. “What’s it all for?” he demanded again in a quiet, almost sultry, voice. He lidded his eyes and tilted his head to the side with a serpentine, swaying motion. “There is no point. How can there be a point to all this . . . shit,” he held up his hand revealing a long yellow and blackish streak running across his red palm, “when it all ends up like this?”

Tanuki frowned and pushed himself upright. “So then what’s the point of anything? What’s the point of even living?”

“There is no point. Better to be dead, I think, than alive. Better to just close your eyes and . . . sleep.” Ken closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m tired, Tanuki.”

The two stood in silence for a moment and then Tanuki did something rare: he grabbed both their bags, gently wrapped an arm around Ken’s shoulders, and steered the slightly shorter boy down the stairs.

“Let’s go home, mon Capitan-kun.”

“Home?” Ken opened his eyes and blinked in that slow cat-like way of his again. “I’d like that, Tanuki kun. I’d like that very much.”

The two walked in silence for several moments, Tanuki gently steering a limp and unresisting Ken down to the sidewalk. Any stares were met with a harsh blue-eyed gaze.

“. . . You know . . . Himozu Tsuji likes you.”

“Himozu? Who is that?”

“. . . Nobody, really, mon Capitan-kun—probably just some fan girl. Nobody important anyway.”