“Oh! I’m sorry. Did I scare ya?” There’s no sympathy in his raspy voice; he laughs. “See, Hino? What’d I tell ya? Nothin’ to be afraid of.” He speaks with an accent I’ve never heard before but it’s also like heavy katakana English. I correct myself — I have heard it before. The fox man and the fish man spoke it, too. Where are all these guys from? Apparently, he’s addressing someone behind him, whose image I can barely see past him because he takes up so much room. And I recognize his voice. He’s the guy who grabbed my shoulder. Who exactly is this fucker?

“A-Akki … sama …” Zaniel finally speaks. “W-what are you doing here?”

“You lose track of time, dummy?” The giant man laughs again. “Jibun Jishin’s open to everyone this time of night. Trains’ll stop any minute, so I should be askin’ you what you’re doin’ here.” He’s talking to Zaniel, but he’s looking right at me. There’s a glint of green in his eyes, and I’ve never seen a dude with so many teeth. But maybe that’s all the alcohol talking (I’ve had a lot). “Relax, Zaniel-kun. No need to freak out. I went through the trouble to get this for ya! C’mon, we’ll all have some.”

“But —”

“Geez, kid. You in some kinda rush? Didn’t look like it a second ago. Guess you were right, Hino. He don’t like us no more.”

The giant man steps to one side, exposing a girl behind him, hands in her school uniform jacket. For whatever reason, she’s wearing sunglasses. “Probably too busy with real life,” the girl says in an equally deep voice. “Give him the bottle and let us go.”

The giant man ignores her. “How is life, Zaniel-kun?” Geez, why the fuck is he still staring at me?

Zaniel swallows. “Fine.”

The man’s smile stretches further than the human face should logically go; it almost looks like something unravelling. He reminds me of the Grinch. It’s hard not to stare, but harder to look away. “Ain’t you gonna properly introduce us to your new friend?” he asks, leaning on the table so hard I expect it to break. He smells like a mixture of pine forest and sake strong enough to disinfect a toilet. I drop my gaze. Maybe I’ll just stare at my lap until this awkward-ass conversation is over and I can go home.

“No. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Zaniel takes my hand and gestures for me to get out of the booth. I’m so grateful I could kiss him. Hell, I would have, if it weren’t for the giant man blocking my path with his crotch.

“Aw, what’s your hurry?!” the big man shouts and stamps the table with his bottle again. “Sit down. We’re gonna have a drink. Oi, omae!” He grabs a passing waitress by the arm and even bumps her against our table. “We need four glasses — and bring us a plate of fugu liver. I ain’t waitin’ for these people to clear out. I paid good money to dine here, too, y’know!”