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Chero played with his collar for several minutes while Dante washed himself. He swore he couldn't speak any further until the panther was clean, the smell was too distracting. The gold jangled one way and then the other and the texture of the leather in his finger tips was renewed. He took for granted how good it felt against his body.

The hot tub was going. It was a good intermediate spot between the bath and the rest of the world, so that was where Chero agreed to speak. He lay back and let the heat soak in with a glass of white wine in a flute by the rim. Dante was beckoned to join him, but stayed right on the rim.

"I didn't know Barty that well really," Chero said. "I remember we played a few times. Now I don't remember anything about him other than that day"

"But that's your sister? You're sure?"

The certainty Chero had that afternoon and an hour ago had faded. "We might have gone to school together, I don't know...when I try to remember him, I can't. I can barely see him now even though I could hold him in my palm." He took a sip of wine and let the warmth move through him. "I don't even remember what happened today. All I remember was seeing him and everything getting very bright in front of me. The next moment, I was on the floor."

"So you don't remember any of it? You broke a table in half," the panther said with wonder. "You did it with your bare fists through a solid block an arm thick! Don't they hurt?"

The mouse glanced at his manicured claws with curiosity and nodded. "Oh, yes, I can see now. I chipped a claw. Damn it. This will take weeks to grow back."

Now Chero was cross. He took another sip of wine to numb his senses. "If I had to guess, I'd say I imagined Barty going through what I went through. I don't want anybody to have that happen. Nobody deserves it."

"You still haven't said what 'it' is," the panther prodded. "Why are you so ashamed of it?"

There was silence that Chero laughed at to keep at bay and looked away, but two black fingers lifted his chin and forced them to reconnect.

"Don't touch me if you're not my lover, bolli-san. I don't like that."

"Seems to be the only way you respond, Chero-san." Now the fingers slid away and Chero held his chin up though his eyes dropped. "You're more like a female than a male."

The mouse bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The way you act. The way you think. Now I see it, I can't believe I didn't before. It's pretty obvious."

"And you think that gives you power? Like your toys?" the mouse growled.

The panther dared a masculine smile. Damn it, Chero felt himself get warmer, and not from the alcohol.

"It means I get where you're coming from," he said. "Tell me about your sis." Chero shook his head. "You remember her though," Dante said. "You're smiling when you think about her."

"I'm not smiling, I'm grinding my teeth." The mouse dunked his head under the water and came up with a sigh. "All I remember about her was how she laughed. That's all," he said. "When I try to think of her face, I can't."

"Do you remember the last time you saw her?"

Chero shook his head. "It was probably the same day I left."

"What do you mean 'left'? You mean you don't remember how you got separated? Is that it?"

The mouse pulled at his head twice to remove a tangle. He needed a comb.

"No, I remember that part clearly. I can't forget it." He'd drunk too much too fast and his stomach hurt. "It doesn't matter how it happened, it did. It's over and it's ancient history."

"So why don't you just say it? It couldn't have been that bad."

The mouse hissed and there was a bright tinkling of glass coming down from his fist.

"I was taken, you idiot. There! I said it. I was taken. I was stolen!"

Chero hadn't meant to yell. Voices carried and he glanced nervously at the walls. "You can't understand it anyway, you have no reference point," he grumbled.

"What wouldn't I understand?"

Chero shook his head. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please change the subject."

"So what do you want to talk about?"

The mouse swallowed the wine straight from the bottle. Very uncivilized.

"Nothing! I don't want to talk! And stop looking at me like that, I don't want your pity, I just don't want to be alone. I hate being alone. Be indifferent, please, just keep your body warm to me."

The panther's tail flicked lazily. He kept his attention completely where it stayed and showed no sign of ceasing interest.

"Will you stop doing that, it's irritating."

"I'll do it if you do one thing for me Chero-san. Just one thing."

The mouse looked up defiantly. Who was this upstart to make demands of him? Damn him and his cockiness! He didn't have a right to look that confident and condescending!

"What was her name?"

The answer came instantly. Chero meant to hold her, but realized he might forget if he didn't act then. Forever.

"Manya. I called her Mani," he said. A violent tremor went through him and he clamped a paw over his muzzle. A black paw came to touch his shoulder, but he thrashed away. He crawled out of the water and dried himself rapidly.

At least Dante kept his promise. He did not focus on Chero for the remainder of the evening.

***

The next morning, the panther yawned loud and stretched out fully. He was getting too used to this much comfort. It wasn't healthy.

He looked over to the window and a white body nearly invisible in the early morning sunlight facing away from him. His paws were out to his sides and his legs were crossed. The position was familiar, so Dante did not interfere.

Whether Dante imagined himself being able to see, or whether there was a field of vision he was mystically sensitive to, he could view the aura before him uninterrupted. The soul was moving through the gates [1]. He had never been able to create a wing-span [2] that large though.

The mouse moved through a half hour of meditative positions, from sitting to standing and then more. There was the position of the Sun and the five forms. There was the position of the Mountain, from crest to peak to valley. How he could carry the stance! [3]

Now was the position of the Ocean, where Chero's body twisted into a bridge and he moved backwards into an armstand with his feet high in the air. He held the position for nearly four minutes, just a little bit under. With a bend, he brought his feet back down to the ground and resumed his earthly position just a bit taller than when he started. He put his paws together and bowed to an invisible recipient before he noticed the rest of the world again.

With a turn, he became a breathtaking sight. The sun had softened his features and given shadows at just the right positions for where a sari might fit over well.

"Who taught you that yana-sal?"

Now the male mouse turned forward and the softness was gone. "So we're back on official terms, bolli-san?"

"That's what you want, isn't it?"

The mouse looked puzzled. He rubbed an arm and seemed to resolve something.

"I had an idea last night," Dante said. He pulled out the brown folder again and some documents inside. "If you remember seeing him in your neighborhood, there's a chance you lived there. You can go ask for help in the original reporting precinct."

Chero seemed uncertain, but Dante pointed out a location for him. "Call Bol-Sovika and ask her to refer you. We can go now, maybe even get in by lunch and keep looking. Maybe this one has reports on file that the other one didn't."

"You're biting wind," Chero said. [4]

The panther held up his bag of bones and Chero grimaced. "It's either this or I need a drop of your blood cast down into a smoldering fire. What's it going to be?"

Chero did not need further convincing.

***

Going back to the precinct was impossible. Bol-Sovika apologized again and thanked Chero for his offer, but made the notice clear. Due to other reasons, she would no longer be able to involve herself in Chero's case. She offered a substitute, but he declined.

So they had to go through the process once more at the next precinct. Two days later, in a new part of the city, the two found themselves at a similar office to begin the search again under the care of Bol-Deega, a Fisher younger than the last, but eager to help. In fact, when Dante noticed, she seemed almost too eager.

"What did you tell her?" he wondered.

"The truth, bolli-san. It was the fastest way to get her help."

"And why won't you tell me?"

The mouse sat down again with a pile of folders. "Because I like your company and you have nothing to gain from knowing. She thinks her career will reach great heights if I succeed in my efforts. She has a savior complex."

The panther glanced back at the Fisher who had a bounce in her step. He shuddered.

"That's morbid," he said. When Chero smiled for the first time in days, Dante let the matter drop.

Bartheki must have been taken about the same time Chero had been, so there was a beginning point of search; yet there were hundreds missing in that time. Pictures were missing, torn, or entirely absent from reports. Wrinkles in the film substituted for the natural aging the faces might have experienced had they stayed where they were supposed to.

"Was your fur a different color back then?" It was one of many questions Dante had asked that Chero had no answer for. At least it broke the monotonous sound of papers and moving dust.

The same afternoon, Dante had another idea. "You said you used to play with him right?" The mouse nodded. He had barely glanced at the panther all day. "Did his parents ever see you? Did you ever go over to his house or something?"

"I don't remember," Chero sighed. "Maybe? It was a long time ago."

"Let's ask. Maybe they remember something about you."

With no better suggestion, they made the request with Chero's new caseworker to contact Barty's remaining relatives. The request would take another two weeks to process due to laws protecting privacy of the surviving family members.

When she left, Chero hung his head in his paws. "We're going in circles," he said. "This could take months or years, if I ever find them at all."

The panther closed his files and picked himself up. "Okay, you need a break," he said. "Come on, let's go have fun and do something."

Chero sulked for several minutes. Then the panther fell on his back on the table and shuffled his face under the mouse to meet him eye to eye.

"Come on yana-chan, you're too sweet to be sour for so long." [5]

Chero snarled but the panther only looked more satisfied. "Don't call me that." Chero's voice took on a deeper, masculine inflection. "You're too familiar with me."

"But you like it," he purred. "You like knowing you're pretty and you like it when people tell you."

"Arrogant!" the mouse hissed.

"But I'm right," the panther continued. "If I'm not, then hit me. You've been wanting to for days."

Why couldn't Chero just slap him? Why couldn't he just elbow him in the gut and send the cat off the table in a fit of vomiting?

No. It was beneath him to lash out like a child. Dante was just being foolish. So it gave Chero an idea.

"I want to go to the circus," he said. "I want to sit in the middle row of the show. I want to see a sword swallower. If there are clowns that want me to play with them, I want you to tear their eyes out. Can you do that?"

There! Finally! Something to break that arrogant smile off of the panther's face.

***

Dead animals made of paper and balloons decorated the long stretches toward the main tent of the circus at the northern end of the city. Throngs of afternoon revelers came in masks and costumes for discounts while others were dazzled by the dozens of attractions.

Pumpkins and decorated cacti erupted in corners and nooks while smiling blue ghosts and headless zombies made merry in between the attractions.

Chero was aghast at Bo-Sokuri, master sword swallower of the west. A whole torso length of steel down his jaw made Chero excited and jump and gasp with other viewers in the audience. He stretched up on tip-toes to see past the crowd but there were too many taller people blocking him.

"Lift me up! Lift me up! Quickly, bolli-san!"

The panther did not have time to say no. Chero jumped on his back and the panther nearly toppled into the crowd but gained his balance at the last second. Chero squeaked with delight and his tail whipped for balance as he watched the finale.

Dazzling non-sentient animals paraded while their sentient counterparts did acrobatics, dancing and trapeze gymnastics that made Chero whoop and holler. For the most part, he had enough enthusiasm for both of them. When clowns skirted their seats, Chero's ears were flat and his gaze was predatory. When one got too close, his claws would dig into the seat and he was ready to pounce. Eight fatalities were avoided that day. Barely.

The two played carnival games for the afternoon. Chero was excellent at ring toss and Dante could throw a ball into a basket with ease. "I didn't think you'd go for this kid's stuff," Dante finally said. "It's all kind of hokey."

Chero flush with excitement and carrying a small keychain as his prize. "It's my first circus."

"Oh come on, these are everywhere," the panther moaned. "Atma took me when I was still a toddler."

Chero smiled too hard.

"This really your first time?"

A pink flush under the smile turned serenity into formality. "Ooh! Look! Look over there! That looks cute! Let's try it."

They lined up and posed for photos in front of a moon and ocean made of paper with a circus performer and kept the photograph. The photographer kept asking Dante to put on a better face for the shot, he looked too grim.

Then Chero tried swetalip and marveled at its taste. He offered some to Dante who took it and it out. "Hurts my teeth! Yuck!"

"Just on the tongue darling." Chero sucked a piece down with while still looking straight on at the panther. He swallowed and stuck out his tongue to show the orange residue, and the panther never looked away. Candy had hypnotized him.

Day turned to night and lights came on in disorienting, dazzling and euphoric display. The cloudy skies parted for an evening cloak pulling over the sun and settling onto the world. Under the awnings of bright yellows and oranges, Chero's delight unfurled and trailed behind him.

The two spoke about the people they saw, the games they played, and everything around them in the present. It was easy to talk here.

"...I was at a carnival like this last year, but it was very cold," Chero mentioned. "I didn't get to play any games like today. I didn't know they could be fun!"

"Who did you go with?"

"Well, there was Oaster and Oak, and Ray was there. Coin had to go to work that day. The others were at Temple and I just watched them play." Chero laughed. "Ray got sick on the ferris wheel and he had to be brought home. It turned out later what happened was -"

He stopped speaking.

All at once the color around him seemed to fade and he grew smaller. He pulled his cloak closed as if a draft had gone through him.

"I'm sorry yana-san." An ugly anger spread through Chero's face and Dante's face hardened like a shield. "It's normal to be curious about someone you like. It's normal to talk about your life. Don't stop."

"Drop it, bolli-san."

"No, I won't," the panther growled. "Don't you trust me by now? I'm not out to take advantage of you."

The mouse rounded on him. "Of course you are," he said cruelly. "We all use one another. I'm using you now because I hate to be alone. I admit it. But if it isn't the promise of the wealth I have access too, then perhaps it's because you're just a pervert and want to find out what a freak I really am!"

The panther should have been angry at the accusation. Chero was mean and he knew it. Of course his inquiry had been innocent. Just like all the others. The panther should have walked away and never looked back. That was what was supposed to happen.

"I'm allergic to venison," he said.

Chero blinked. Then Dante straightened himself up and counted thrice on his fingers.

"I've got a scar on my hip from a bike accident. I've had my wisdom teeth out and my favorite drink is Shazen." [6]

"What are you talking about?" Chero growled.

"Now you've got some things on me, yana-sal. You can take them and do whatever you want with them. If you wanted to give something back, that's all you'd have to give. You can keep the big things for yourself."

The mouse was puzzled. He pulled his cloak around him and around his scowl.

"Take me home bolli-san, I'm cold."

***

All the way back to the hotel, Dante mulled over the word 'home' but could not figure out what was unsettling about the thought. The mouse gave no inclination or hint.

Yet the moment the door closed behind them in the room, Chero turned and pointed at his mouth. "These two teeth back here are fake. They were knocked out."

Dante peered a bit closer but could not see the difference. It gave him a reason to catch his breath and brace himself for a set of squeaks.

"I very fond of basil in my foods and I hate cheese," Chero said rapidly. "I can read in four languages, but I can only speak two. And I like disco music."

Chero was out breath. He caught it again and giggled. Then Dante chuckled until the two of them laughed out loud.

Just like that, from one day to the next, two strangers became two friends.

What a costly mistake this would turn out to be.

***

[1] similar to the Chakras, points of energy in the body between the soul's connection to the world of flesh and the spiritual portions of the universe.

[2] metaphor for a person's presence, charisma, or the general impression they leave in the minds of others.. One of the most popular phrases adopted from the Avian Species from the Symme Period. Original phrase coined by the poet Ull-so-de-Chang.

[3] similar to yoga, used in some meditation practices.

[4] metaphor meaning "to do a task in an ineffective way"; originally a derogatory phrase from Avians about Mammals, but now a general idiom.

[5] -chan -diminutive. Usually used for females. For a male, this carries andrygenous or sexually ambiguous overtones. Similar term would be 'baby-doll", "cutie."

[6] A brand of spiced whiskey.