Rain.

It really did rain a lot in Namiport, didn't it? Of course, with how tightly packed the buildings were one hardly even noticed the water seeping through the layers upon layers of businesses, houses, and corporate buildings which dominated the industrial sprawl. The city may have been planned by the corporations, but once one of them built something just a little bit too close to the agreed-on perimeters, the other followed. After a while, it all became an arms race of construction.

Fortunately, Noah was given a chance to breathe. This was a perk of working for a big corpo like EikōBio. They provided him with a house out in what constituted as "suburbs," but even now he could see the new expansion crawling into this region of Namiport like a huge mechanical snake in the distance.

He put his hand out from beneath the terrace, allowing a few warm drops to hit his palm. These were the perks of working for them...but there were responsibilities associated with his position. On paper, he was given the title of a "handler"—somebody who managed the Kemonomimi. EikōBio may have hands in many pots (genetic engineering, microbiological research, biochemical research, corporate security, and who knows what else) but there was always a need to finance their operations.

This is where the genetically modified Kemonomimi pets came in. Everybody wanted one. Few could actually afford them. These Kemonomimi...their status under the law was purposefully poorly defined. Were the women in his care property? Pets? People? As somebody had told him once: "In Namiport, anything goes." Technically located on the west coast, it might as well have been a free city.

Noah liked to see himself as a vital part of the company, but that would be like calling a cashier of a fast food restaurant somebody who handles money for a billion-dollar business. Still, there were 4 'mimis assigned under his care, and he was determined to make the most of it. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was a desire for luxury. All that Noah knew was that this was what he wanted to do—what he was made to do.

Looking down at his phone, he skimmed past the intricate details of his exact composition before finally settling down on a digestible report from the company's doctors. Hormone levels were steady. Induced cell plasticity was high, but that was to be expected. All in all—despite the low iron level—he was a perfectly healthy worker. Good. Maybe now they will stop taking samples whenever he enters the office.

There was a flash of ginger behind him. Turning around, a Kitsune girl stood at attention. Her fox-like ears were passive, with a fluffy tail swaying gently from side to side brushing the air. The man had grown so used to her wearing tacky maid outfits, that seeing Koko in something more casual was refreshing. She had a blouse and jeans on—the type which would look more stylish with some holes in them. But the fox girl wouldn't allow it.

"Greetings, Master." She gave him a weak bow, immediately darting her eyes up to look at him. Before she even spoke, an exhausted expression appeared on her face. "You are going to ask me to call you Noah. I would prefer to use the term 'Master.' Proper boundaries must be maintained."

That was quick. Or was he just that predictable? "Fine." Noah put his hands in his pockets.

"Are you going to smoke?" Koko asked, already looking for an ashtray.

"It's not as bad for you as they say-" He stopped himself. That was oddly defensive, with a man cleaning his throat before saying "No, I am not."

"Understood." Getting even closer, Koko also allowed herself a moment to gaze at the rain. "Would you like the stock report on EikōBio?"

"No, that's fine." He took a deep breath of the earthy air. "Speaking off...what did EiB do with the old apartment?"

Koko placed a finger on her cheek. "I think they are turning it into a firing range."

"Of course." What were they doing with the jacuzzi, then? 

"Is there an issue with the new house?"

"No." He shook his head. "Just curious."

Still, the Kitsune felt a need to defend the honor of the building. It was picked by the regional director and her true owner, after all. "It has a tall ceiling, a modest pool, and more than enough space to accommodate most templates which may or may not be assigned-"

"I said it's fine." Noah assured with a stern look, turning back inside of the house. Koko followed. They left the rain-soaked terrace behind, and the atmosphere shifted. The living room was a blend of functionality and comfort. Plush furniture adorned the space, strategically arranged for the aforementioned "templates" to move around comfortably. But without them, the area felt still and empty. Just as described, the ceiling soared high, making Noah feel like he stepped into some cathedral.

"Tanji and Tamiko are securely within their room. They don't like the rain." Koko made sure to wipe her feet on the mat, giving Noah a subtle dirt eye for forgetting to do the same. "My gun collection is getting moved to the area. Our security could be compromised."

Noah exhaled through his teeth, almost having forgotten that the cute little fox girl was also his security. This also brought back the fact that there could be—no, that there were—people after him. Just waving the flag of EikōBio was enough to deserve hatred in the eyes of some, both corporate opponents and private groups. He had tasted it once in Osaka. He did not want to taste it again.

"Well, it's Sunday. Might as well rest." Noah justified, stretching his back.

"EikōBio doesn't do Sundays. You are expected to perform your job as a handler at all times."

"Of course." He repeated, forcing the air out of his lungs. "Well, let's get organized."

His attention turned towards the stack of crates in the corner, one filled with everything that a Handler could need. How nice, they even included EikōBio-branded towels, tacky bathing salts, and 5-in-1 shower gels! Sorting through the clothes, Noah noticed something. One of them was much taller than the rest. Both Tanji and Tamiko were about 2 ft tall, and Koko was barely over 3. But these overalls? They looked like they fit on somebody about his height. Or slightly taller. Just slightly.

"Where is Mirei?" Noah asked, shuffling through her clothes. The memories of the horse girl flashed in his mind. She was the newest addition to their little menagerie, and losing track of her so quickly just seemed careless.

"I thought you brought her here."

"I did. Gave her the address." Suddenly, his heart sank. Mirei was known to be aloof. Could she...could she have gotten lost? No way. The road to get here was simple, and he wrapped a tag around her neck which confirmed her as property of his company. There should have been no way for her to get lost. And yet... "Remind me to get all the 'mimis phones, okay?" He grumbled while reaching for his coat, not facing towards Koko yet able to hear her approach.

When he turned around, she already had his hat—standing on her tippy-toes to hand it to him. "The company is opposed to Kemonomimis having any devices with internet access. I was given an exception."

"It's fine." He assured, awkwardly sliding it over his messy hair. "I'll get them flip-phones."

"Flip-phones?" It took a moment for Koko to recall what those were. "Do they still make those?"

"I will find some." Twisting the knob, Noah was back in the rain. He watched as it cleaned the already tidy streets of the suburb district, swirling the little remaining grime down the drains. The air around him buzzed with the energy of the dripping water. It was a sign that he needed to pick up speed, and so he did.

Noah's mind raced as he navigated through the narrow streets, heading to the city center where this all began. The rain intensified, making the neon lights of Namiport reflect in shimmering patterns on the wet asphalt. Another lost 'mimi...this is where this all began, didn't it? A lost kitten in the streets ended up near a trash where Noah found it—a discovery that led him to work for the company. That was how the woman named Tanji entered his life. Would Mirei meet the same fate? If yes, surely somebody would find her. And then what? Would he now be the one pulling another soul into this life? It was a bit exhilarating, to see himself on the same level as his boss. But as an expensive black car rushed past him and sprayed water on Noah, it was like a slap on the face to stay focused. And the reality of his position became painfully clear.

There was a flash of light to his right. It was one of those huge ad pillars screeching about the products of whoever paid for it; dirty pixelated while light flooded out of it, distorted by the falling raindrops. So why did it catch his attention? Noah stepped closer, now clearly noticing the geometric logo of Genovista. That explained it. The logo was made from interconnected molecule models, making it painfully clear what the company was all about: bioengineering, just like the men he worked for.

Getting so close to the pillar that he could hear his mother shouting at him to get away from the screen at the back of his mind, Noah was mesmerized by the advertisement—like a moth to light. Staring at the regal blue color of the small European company felt like cheating, but there was nothing in his contract about not being able to watch ads. How could he even avoid ads in Namiport? They were plastered everywhere!

"Dive into the future with Genovista's groundbreaking Aqua Femme Collection!" The screen promised, showing a scene of a serene beach of pale yellow sand and water that seemed too bright and blue to be real. He could almost smell the coconut-scented sunscreen. "These girls are ready for the hot-hot summer of 2029!" A flash of light. Now, two figures emerged from the water, passing a volleyball with the company's logo imprinted on its surface. They had bikinis which blurred the line of what could be allowed on TV. As expected, Genovista imprinted its trademark even on their tits.

One of the figures dived back into the water, showing a flash of her powerful, muscular tail. It looked to be that of a dolphin, with a smooth gray surface glistening as she threw the water in the air. She peeked her head playfully above the surface to wink at the camera, her ear fins shaking slightly with the woman's smile. He had never seen Kemonomimis like these before. "You have never seen Kemonomimis like these before!" The ad assured.

In the distance, there was a disturbance in the water—something huge pulling itself up from below the waves. The way in which the two girls turned towards and waved at the enormous dark silhouette made it clear that this also was part of the advert. She was truly colossal, with swimming pools worth of liquid dripping from her drenched hair. But before a proper look was given, the ad flashed to payment and contact information.

Noah winced, quickly turning his eyes away from the pillar. Here he was thinking about other Kemonomimis while his own Mirei was lost! This new line..."Aqua Femme" (although he never actually wanted to use that phrase) was certainly unique. But EikōBio would surely come up with a reprisal. They always did. Before he even realized it, he was already walking—his shoes wetted by a large puddle.

"I am looking for a 'mimi." He approached a lone beat cop, trying to get his attention. The man had clearly heard him but continued looking onward into the traffic.

"You should run this by corporate security. Don't handle lost 'mimi cases."

"Listen, it hasn't been that long." By now, Noah's eyes turned in the same direction as the policeman's. Under the cloak of wet drizzle, many umbrellas bounced up and down like multicolored mushrooms. There was a tiny Neko girl with a comically oversized umbrella struggling to hold it above her head, stumbling through the rain next to her mistress. Noticing her pet's strife, the woman lifted it, patting her leg for the pet to get closer. Down the road, an 8-foot-tall dog girl stuck her long tongue out from beyond her master's umbrella to catch the drops of water. He scolded her to get back under it, lest she catch a cold. "She is about this high..." Mirei was slightly taller than him (just slightly) but he still placed her height at the level of his forehead. "...long blonde hair...blue eyes...Umamimi. That's—uh—horse girl."

The cop just groaned, continuing to stare at the street. "Run this by the corporate security." He repeated, quickly getting tired of his presence. If Namiport actually had any real taxes, Noah might have gotten upset.

Looking back at the ad pillar, the holographic green leaf of EikōBio's now fought for attention with the last advert. Noah hesitated. The corporate executive's stern gaze seemed to pierce through the screen, and a sense of unease settled in his gut. Calling for corpsec would be the ultimate admission that he messed up. He did mess up, of course, but the man wasn't just going to admit it. For the first time in his life, he had an actual reputation on the line.

Down an alley, he noticed a familiar sight. His old apartment! This place felt ancient, with the small bulky building covered with fading gray paint. It didn't look any more disheveled. No, that wasn't it. He had just gotten used to a level of fancy which outweighed...this. Taking a step closer, he made it through the green fence which was never locked. The old dumpster where he had found Tanji was still here, with the man so focused on the metal crate that he had forgotten about the rain drenching his hair. Pieces of old furniture stuck out of it, forming into a mess of twisted wood and cushions. There were a few waterlogged boxes around it, with a weird urge for the man to shuffle through them.

A flash and thunder of lightning hitting one of the electricity collector units in the distance brought him back to the present, with the man becoming aware of how wet he was getting. He took a step inside, getting hit by the warm wave of air. How come this place was never this cozy when he lived here? At least the same stench of fresh paint remained.

Ah. His old room. It had been stripped completely of all the essentials, appearing barren. The door wasn't even locked, since there was nothing to steal. Memories. They came flooding again: his days with Tanji, trying to figure out what she was, the arrival of Hiro and his 8-ft tall bodyguard, and his ultimate decision to work for EikōBio. No. Focus. Noah quickly shut the doors. He could hear his own breathing in the hallway, broken only by the distorted sound of a video game played in the room across. Despite not even living here, Noah had half the mind to knock on this bastard's door and tell him to turn it down before realizing—"Hey! It's Mike's place!"

Knock-knock-knock! There was a groan followed by the music stopping, with the form of a man appearing in the now open doorway. Looks like Mike hadn't done anything with his style in the months the two were apart (if you can even call that "style"), still having the same unremarkable short black hair, dull eyes, and average build. The apartment was dim, with the blue light inside reflecting on his glasses.

"Noah?" He shook his head. "Hey buddy! What are you doing here?"

Noah wanted to respond—it was only the polite thing to do—but his eyes immediately locked on Mirei. Here she was, sitting on the ground with a controller in her hands and a can of some energy drink by her side with no care in the world. "Hello, mister!" She waved at him, with the long sleeves of her hoodie making arcs in the air.

"What are you doing here?" Noah got closer, putting his arms on Mirei's shoulder to prove that she was real. "I gave you the address!"

Squinting as if this was some complex math problem, the horse-girl said. "Yeah." In her pocket, there was a crumpled-up piece of paper. On the other side, the woman made some doodles of what might have been her next to a string of letters and numbers.

"So why are you here-" Snatching the paper and flipping it over, it all clicked. He had absentmindedly written his old address—muscle memory was to blame. Instead of entering the suburbs, she somehow made her way across the city to here. It was a miracle that no car hit her. "And the collar?"

"It hurt my neck. So I ripped it off!"

"That explains it." He really hated that it did explain it. "Okay, let's head back."

Mirei blinked, processing his words. "But I wanted to play games. Mike said it's okay."

"Well, I am your handler. And Mike..." He turned around, seeing the man just standing there. "...Mike is just Mike."

Throwing his hands up in defense, the man backed away into the hallway. "I didn't know she was yours! She just knocked on every door in the whole building. Said she was looking for some "mister," so I assumed she was lost or something." There was a pause, after which Mike rushed in, placing his hands on Noah's collar. "Please—oh—please don't send your corpo thugs after me!"

"Don't stretch the jacket!" He pulled away. "And stop whining! EiB isn't some kind of gang, you know." Noah was not really in the mood to scare Mike with his employers, considering that he was already afraid of them.

"Are you sure?" The man looked like he was about to cry.

"It's fine." Noah exhaled so hard it hurt. "Come on Mirei, let's go." Reaching for her wrist, he found the product pulling away.

"He said it's okay, mister." She seemed serious about it, wanting to continue playing the game. "Can I stay?"

There was a pause. He was a lousy handler, wasn't he? Noah should have grabbed her by her neck, pulled her out, and slapped her on the bum for talking back to him. Instead, he just sat down across the room, squeezing out "You have 20 minutes. After that, we go."

Her blue eyes lit up as brightly as the water from that ad, resulting in the woman swaying from side to side. Speaking of..."Have you seen the new collection?" Noah asked, trying and failing to follow the mess of flashing icons and colors that was the fighting game. From what he knew about his friend, he did have a "commercial" interest in the Kemonomimis. That was just a nice way of saying that the man desperately wanted one.

Mike responded only after executing a combo. "Oh, you mean the ones from Genovista?" It was amazing how all his worries about potentially getting hunted down faded away once he was engrossed in the game. "Pretty nice, yeah?"

"These are unique templates, right?"

"Looked like it-" He hissed at the screen. "The dolphin girls are super cute. Shark ones too. Bet the huge gal costs even more than standard templates." Does this count as getting customer queries? Noah hoped it would. This little detour did at least confirm that "the people" paid attention to what Genovista had to say. They were by far the smallest of the "Big 3" companies, so them finally being on the radar was almost surreal.

"Could be a seasonal gimmick."

"Could be-" By now, Mike had given up on trying to follow the conversation, struggling against Mirei. Noah may have known nothing about that game, but it was clear that she was destroying him. No point in continuing this conversation any further.

After the allotted time was finished, Noah grabbed Mirei by the sleeves of her sweater. Tying the ends into knots, he watched as she hopelessly flopped her arms around while following. "Mister! Mister, I am stuck!" Umamimi looked down at his eyes—still trapped.

They left. "Calm down, I'll undo your sleeves once we get back." It was fun teasing her since the woman squeaked like a toy. That being said, she was making a scene, with some other 'mimi owners giving him the side-eye. To them, he looked like a kid playing around with an expensive car.

"Oh! Mister, mister!" Mirei tried to point at a nearby building. "I like that music! The one that goes dud-dud-dud-dud dud-dud! It's all glowy, too!"

Turning towards the building found at the end of her sleeve, Noah froze for a moment. It looked to be a nightclub of sorts. The "dud-dud" music Mirei described pounded against the soundproof walls, leaking onto the street and enticing those passing by to enter inside. Above them, a large crimson neon sign reading "The Kingdom" flashed next to an outline of a girl with bunny ears stripping. Had they...had they walked into the red lights district?

"No...I don't think that would be the best idea." Mirei was too pure for this.

"What? Mister, please—oh—please!" Now she sounded like Mike. "It says that 'mimis are allowed inside, see!" It did say that, but not for the reasons Mirei imagined.

"No!" He picked up his pace, starting to get embarrassed. The woman just pouted, crossing her bonded arms.

Back at the home base at last. The living room was warmer than usual since Koko was using the open kitchen. She gracefully balanced the task of cooking 5 different meals at once while humming a tune—her maid uniform back on. Walking inside, Noah ordered Mirei to dry herself off, throwing a towel at her face. She was supposed to catch it, but since her arms were bound it hit her in the face. "Oh, sorry." He chuckled awkwardly, finally undoing the cruel bindings and running up the wide stairs.

Ah! The fortress of dreams, at last! Noah threw off his jacket and then threw himself onto the bed. His bedroom wasn't any larger than those of the 'mimis under his care, but it was his territory. It may have still smelled like fresh paint, but it was his and his alone. Picking up his phone, the handler scrolled through his social media feed, turning his brain off. But then, there was a sound. Noah stared at the vibrating screen as if he could answer the call with his mind before finally hitting the green button and bringing the device to his ear. "Hiro?"

"Ah, handler Ko-" There is a subtle chuckle, filtering out the rest of his surname. "I am joking, of course. We are on a first-name basis, are we not, Noah?" The man tensed up for a moment. He had been calling his boss "Hiro" all this time, instead of Mr. or -sama something. Was that impolite? Hiro didn't seem to mind, but then again, trying to read this man was a herculean task. He seemed to be casual...about pretending to be casual, with an accent which he still couldn't place.

"Yes. Yes, sir." An overcorrection.

"Good man." A familiar compliment. "You didn't encounter any problems?"

"No, none." He lied.

"And How is the new house treating you?"

"It's fine. Very good, even." Noah looked up at the ceiling. "The place is really big."

"Of course it's big. You will need it." Another chuckle. "Tell me, have you checked the internet lately?"

"Yeah. The new—uh—product?" He trod carefully.

"Those bastards think that they can take the summer season from us." That was the 2nd best season (allegedly). Hiro sounded angry in his own way. You really had to listen for it, but Noah had learned to gather such clues. "Genovista, who didn't come out with anything new since the 2000s. Genovista, the middle child." He certainly had a way with words. "But don't worry, dear Noah."

"I wasn't worried-"

Ignoring his comment, Hiro continued. "I need you to get the 'mimis under your care ready for this Saturday. We are putting together a little beach event. Company party, you know? BBQ. Summer waves." Noah could feel the sly smile through the screen. "Pictures."

"Oh, sounds nice-"

Yet again, he was interrupted. "Additional cash has been forwarded to your company account. You need to help them pick up some outfits. Don't know anything about that kind of stuff." And what, he was some swimming suit expert?

"I can do that-"

"Oh, and bring Naomi. The people will want to see her."

His lower lip quivered. "I can do that..."