Day 1: Pet Play
For his eight birthday, Ainosuke asked for a puppy. Instead he got a life-sized stuffed black Shiba Inu with a pink tongue hanging out — just a token, along with a shiny new watch and an antique chess set. Tears in his eyes and smiling, he asked if he could get a real one next time.
That didn’t go over so well.
Sleeping off his punishment, clutching his plushie, he woke up to find a bundle of papers shoved beneath the door, bound together with string. It was pages and pages of drawings of puppies, and at the back, a tear-out token for one make-believe doggie day with Tadashi (terms and conditions applied).
They say these fixations develop early. Tadashi was such a cute puppy, after all, and let Ainosuke ride on his back, pet his hair, and even rub his belly. He barked and begged and ran for sticks. They laughed so hysterically Ainosuke almost peed his pants.
The first time Ainosuke called him puppy — after his return from America, and buckets of bad blood between them — Tadashi stared at him with a strange expression. Concern, mainly, but a hint of something else. Embarrassment? Reminiscence? Regret?
He really played himself there.
