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Isagi woke up because something was breathing directly into his face.
He frowned without opening his eyes.
“…Kaiser. Get off.”
The breathing continued.
Something wet touched the tip of his nose.
Isagi’s eyes snapped open.
A dog was staring at him.
Not a small dog, either.
A tall, long-legged dog occupied most of the bed, its silky fur spilling across the sheets in shades of cream and gold. Its narrow muzzle hovered inches from Isagi’s face, its dark nose twitching as it sniffed him.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Then the dog blinked.
Isagi blinked back.
“…What?”
The dog tilted its head.
Isagi sat up so quickly that the blankets fell into his lap.
The dog stared.
Isagi narrowed his eyes.
There was something horribly familiar about its face.
The blue eyes, for one. A very distinctive shade of blue.
The haughty way it held its head.
Even the little crease between its brows looked exactly like the expression Kaiser wore whenever Isagi said something he considered ridiculous.
“…Kaiser?”
The dog’s ears perked up.
“No way.”
He climbed into his lap.
“Get off me!”
A wet tongue dragged enthusiastically across Isagi’s cheek.
“KAISER!”
The dog wagged his tail.
Noel Noa answered on the fourth ring.
“Isagi.”
“…Master.”
There was a brief pause on the other end.
“You sound distressed. What happened?”
“I woke up and Kaiser is gone.”
Noa was silent for a moment.
“Have you checked the bathroom?”
“He’s not in the bathroom.”
“The kitchen?”
“He’s not in the kitchen.”
“Have you called him?”
Isagi looked down at the dog sitting beside him. He was staring intently at the phone, ears slightly perked as though he knew exactly who he was speaking to.
“That’s going to be difficult.”
Noa paused.
“Why?”
Isagi hesitated.
“When I woke up, there was a dog in my bed,” he continued carefully. “It’s Kaiser.”
Noa sighed softly.
“…Isagi.”
“I know how that sounds.”
“Then perhaps you should explain why you believe the dog is Kaiser.”
“It looks exactly like him.”
“And you’re certain?” Noa asked, his voice as calm as ever.
“Absolutely.”
“How do you know Kaiser didn’t put a similar-looking dog in your bed as a prank?”
“You would understand if you saw him.”
“Show me.”
Isagi switched the call to video and pointed his phone at the dog.
Silence stretched long enough that Isagi thought the call had dropped.
“…How did Kaiser turn into a dog?” Noa asked flatly.
“I don’t know. He seemed normal last night. Well, as normal as Kaiser ever is.”
The dog huffed indignantly.
Isagi pointed accusingly at him.
“See? He does that too.”
Noa sighed.
“I’ll arrange a veterinary examination.”
“You believe me?”
“I’ve seen stranger things.”
The call ended.
That was apparently the extent of Noa’s reassurance.
Kaiser refused to leave at first. He planted his long legs and stared at him until Isagi crouched and whispered,
“Please. Just until we figure this out.”
The dog let out a low huff, then reluctantly followed him.
The veterinarian examined Kaiser for nearly an hour.
Isagi sat in the corner of the examination room while Kaiser endured the indignity of having his ears, teeth, paws, eyes, and stomach inspected.
He looked profoundly offended by the entire experience.
The veterinarian looked thoroughly baffled by the situation.
“Physically, he’s healthy,” he finally said.
The words made Isagi realize he had been holding his breath. He let it out slowly.
The veterinarian glanced down at his notes. “No signs of injury. His heart and lungs sound normal. His temperature is normal. His reflexes are good. I’m not finding anything medically wrong with him.”
That should have been reassuring. Instead, it made the situation feel even stranger.
Isagi glanced at Kaiser.
He still wasn’t used to seeing him like this - the long, silky coat, the narrow muzzle, the impossibly long legs.
“What breed is he, anyway?” Isagi asked. “I’ve never seen a dog like this before.”
“He’s an Afghan Hound.”
“Afghan Hound…?”
“They’re an old sighthound breed,” the veterinarian explained. “Tall, slender, and known for their long coats. They’re bred for speed and tend to be fairly independent.”
Kaiser flicked an ear.
Isagi tilted his head. “Independent?”
The veterinarian nodded. “That would be one way of putting it—they can also be quite sensitive.”
Kaiser’s other ear twitched.
“Yeah,” Isagi smiled faintly. “That sounds like him.”
For a moment, the room was quiet. Then the absurdity of the situation settled over him again.
“Except he’s not supposed to be a dog. He’s a human being.”
The veterinarian’s expression changed slightly. His gaze shifted to Kaiser.
The dog stared back.
“Was,” the veterinarian said quietly.
Isagi straightened. That was not particularly reassuring.
The veterinarian set his clipboard aside.
“What happened to Kaiser is extremely unusual, but it isn’t completely without precedent. Occasionally, a person undergoes a spontaneous transformation into an animal.”
“Spontaneous? Why?”
“We still don’t know what causes it. There are theories, but nothing conclusive.”
Isagi frowned.
“And how long will it last?”
“It varies from case to case. Hours. Sometimes days. Occasionally weeks.”
“And then they change back?”
“Most documented cases resulted in the person returning to their original form.”
Most.
Isagi noticed the word immediately. His stomach dropped.
“…And the others?”
The veterinarian hesitated.
“In some cases, the transformation is permanent.”
Kaiser’s head snapped up.
For the first time since entering the clinic, the irritation vanished from the dog’s expression.
His ears drooped. He looked scared.
Isagi’s chest tightened.
“Can you treat him?”
The veterinarian’s expression softened. “…I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing you can do?”
“Not at present.”
The veterinarian folded his hands and spoke carefully.
“The best thing you can do is keep him healthy and comfortable. If he retains his memories and personality—and based on his behavior, I suspect he does—then he should still be able to understand you.”
Kaiser shifted closer to Isagi.
“Yes,” Isagi muttered. “He’s definitely still himself.”
The veterinarian stood and gathered his things.
“Then take care of him. For now, that’s all you can do.”
Isagi looked at the imposing dog sitting beside him.
He reached down and rested a hand against Kaiser’s head. The silky fur slipped between his fingers.
“Until he changes back?”
The veterinarian gave him a small, reassuring smile.
“Until he changes back.”
Isagi nodded slowly, determination settling over him.
“Okay.”
It turned out that taking care of Kaiser was considerably harder than Isagi had expected.
For one thing, Kaiser was huge.
For another, he was spoiled.
And for a third, he was still Kaiser.
Isagi found himself standing in the middle of a pet store, staring at shelves full of things he had never expected to buy.
The first problem was food.
He spent nearly twenty minutes comparing bags covered in pictures of dogs, trying to figure out which one Kaiser would actually eat.
“This one has more protein… but this one’s better for his coat.”
He picked up another bag. “And this one has better reviews. How am I supposed to choose?”
In the end, he gave up and bought three different varieties.
Then he discovered that dogs apparently needed an absurd number of other things.
Treats. A collar. A leash. A brush. Shampoo. Paw wipes. Toothbrushes. Toys. A dog bed. A completely unnecessary squeaky duck plush that looked cute.
By the time he reached the register, his basket was overflowing.
Isagi stared at the receipt.
“This is more expensive than my groceries.”
The dog looked pleased with himself.
At home, Isagi carefully poured food into Kaiser’s bowls.
Kaiser rejected all three.
He sniffed the bowls.
Then he looked at Isagi, thoroughly unimpressed.
Isagi folded his arms.
“No.”
Kaiser blinked.
“You’re eating the dog food.”
The dog’s expression became one of profound betrayal.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
A huff.
“You’re the one who turned into a dog.”
Another huff.
“Not my fault.”
Kaiser looked pointedly at the drawer where Isagi had put the treats.
“Absolutely not.”
Kaiser slowly looked back.
Isagi stared at him for a long moment before sighing.
“Fine. You can have a treat—”
Kaiser immediately sat upright.
“—but only if you eat your food first.”
Isagi paused.
“…You understood that.”
Kaiser lifted one paw and placed it firmly on Isagi’s foot.
Isagi covered his face.
“Guess I’d better get used to this.”
Training was somehow worse.
Kaiser learned to sit in less than ten minutes.
He learned to stay in fifteen.
He learned to shake hands after Isagi held out a treat while saying ‘paw’.
But ‘leave it’ was a different story.
“Kaiser.”
The dog froze.
There was a sock hanging from his mouth.
“Drop it.”
Kaiser stared at him.
“Drop it.”
Kaiser turned around.
“Kaiser.”
The dog walked away.
“Kaiser!”
He disappeared around the corner.
Isagi chased him.
Five minutes later, he found Kaiser lying majestically on the sofa with the sock between his paws.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
Kaiser blinked innocently.
Isagi narrowed his eyes.
“You’re absolutely doing this on purpose.”
The dog’s tail thumped against the sofa.
Isagi sighed.
“Drop it.”
Kaiser released the sock.
“Good boy.”
Kaiser’s ears perked up.
Isagi froze. The words had slipped out automatically.
Kaiser’s tail gave an unmistakable thump against the sofa.
Isagi’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh, you like that?”
The tail wagged faster.
Isagi let out a laugh.
“You’re still you, aren’t you?”
The dog looked unbearably pleased with himself.
“Don’t expect me to call you a good boy again.”
Kaiser promptly stole the sock again.
Walks became their routine.
At first, Isagi hated them.
Kaiser pulled on the leash whenever he saw another dog.
He stopped every few meters to sniff things.
He had absolutely no respect for Isagi’s sense of urgency.
But eventually, Isagi learned his pace.
They walked in the evenings when the streets were quieter.
Kaiser loved the park.
He would run through the grass, his long coat streaming behind him, looking almost ridiculous in his elegance.
One tiny dachshund seemed completely fascinated by him and would follow him around whenever they crossed paths.
Kaiser tolerated it.
Isagi suspected he secretly liked the attention.
Other people always stopped to look.
“He’s beautiful!”
“What breed is he?”
“Can I pet him?”
Isagi got used to answering questions.
“Afghan Hound.”
“His name is Kaiser. Ah—not that Kaiser. Just a coincidence.”
“Yes, he’s very friendly.”
The last statement was only mostly true.
Kaiser was friendly until someone got too close to Isagi.
One afternoon, a man at the park struck up a conversation.
“Do you come here often?”
“Sometimes.”
“Your dog is gorgeous.”
“Thanks.”
“He’s very well behaved, too.”
Kaiser, who had been sitting peacefully at Isagi’s feet, suddenly stood.
The man smiled.
“What’s his name?”
“Kaiser.”
“Oh, that’s a nice—”
A low growl interrupted him.
Isagi stared down at him.
“Kaiser.”
The dog stepped between them.
“Kaiser, stop.”
The growl deepened.
The man gave an awkward laugh and lifted his hands slightly.
“Looks like he’s protective.”
“He’s a little jealous,” Isagi muttered.
Kaiser looked up at him, frowning.
“Don’t deny it.”
The man laughed and clapped a hand on Isagi’s shoulder.
Kaiser moved before Isagi could react.
He lunged forward, catching the man’s trouser leg between his teeth.
“Ah—hey!”
“Kaiser!”
Isagi grabbed the leash and pulled him back.
Kaiser resisted for a moment, teeth still clenched in the fabric, before finally releasing it.
The man stumbled backward, looking startled.
Isagi’s face burned.
“I’m so sorry! He’s never done this before.”
Kaiser stood rigidly at Isagi’s side, staring at the man with narrowed eyes.
When the man left, Isagi crouched down.
“No biting.”
Kaiser turned his head away.
“Look at me.”
Kaiser continued looking away.
“You don’t get treats tonight—and I’m taking away your favorite ball.”
His head snapped back. The betrayal in his eyes was almost unbearable.
“Don’t give me that face.”
His ears flattened.
Isagi folded his arms.
“You don’t get to bite people because they talk to me.”
A miserable whine.
“Don’t try that.”
Another whine.
“You knew better.”
Kaiser lay down dramatically.
Isagi ignored him and walked away.
“Come on.”
Kaiser reluctantly followed.
“You’re still grounded.”
Kaiser pressed his head against Isagi’s leg and looked up at him with wide, pleading blue eyes.
It was an unfairly effective expression.
Isagi couldn’t help it. He laughed.
“You’re unbelievable.”
Isagi had underestimated how much hair an Afghan Hound actually had.
The first time Isagi brought out the brush, Kaiser disappeared.
“Kaiser.”
The dog looked over his shoulder.
“Where are you going?”
The dog walked away.
“Come here.”
He kept walking.
“If you want to keep your hair looking nice, you have to let me brush it.”
Kaiser stopped.
Eventually, he sighed through his nose and returned.
“Thank you.”
Isagi sat behind him and began brushing.
“How do you have this much hair?”
At first, Kaiser remained stiff.
Then gradually, almost imperceptibly, his body relaxed.
His head lowered.
His eyes slipped closed.
Isagi smiled.
“So you like this.”
Kaiser’s eyes opened immediately.
“No?”
A tiny movement of the tail betrayed him.
Isagi laughed.
“You absolutely do.”
Kaiser leaned back against him as he continued brushing.
The room was quiet except for the soft sound of the brush passing through fur.
It was strange.
Having Kaiser like this should have felt wrong.
Instead, somehow, it felt natural.
Kaiser was still Kaiser.
Just… considerably hairier.
Very slowly, Kaiser rested his chin on Isagi’s knee.
Isagi’s expression softened.
He scratched behind Kaiser’s ear.
“Good boy.”
Kaiser immediately looked smug.
Isagi rolled his eyes.
“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute.”
Kaiser leaned into his hand.
Isagi’s fingers disappeared into the long fur around his ears.
Brushing quickly became one of Kaiser’s favorite routines.
Every evening, Isagi would sit on the floor with a brush and work carefully through the dog’s coat.
Before long, he began waiting beside Isagi whenever he saw the brush.
The moment Isagi stopped brushing him, Kaiser nudged his hand with his paw.
“You want me to keep going?”
Kaiser looked away.
Isagi laughed softly.
“You’re so spoiled.”
The hardest part was bath time.
Kaiser hated baths. He absolutely loathed them.
He hated water.
He hated shampoo.
He hated the towel.
Most of all, he hated Isagi laughing at him afterward.
“You look ridiculous.”
Kaiser shook himself.
Water exploded across the bathroom.
“KAISER!”
The dog looked delighted.
“You did that on purpose!”
His tail wagged.
Isagi wiped his face.
“You’re such an asshole.”
Kaiser trotted away.
“Come back here!”
He didn’t.
Isagi chased him down the hallway.
Somewhere along the way, however, things changed.
Isagi stopped thinking about the transformation as something temporary.
At first, everything had been about when Kaiser turns back.
When Kaiser turns back, he won’t need the dog bed.
When Kaiser turns back, Isagi won’t need to buy treats.
When Kaiser turns back, he won’t have to take him on walks.
But then Isagi bought Kaiser a nicer collar because the first one suddenly seemed too plain.
He bought a better brush.
He memorized which treats Kaiser preferred.
He noticed which park Kaiser liked best because it had his favorite spot to sit in the sun.
He learned that Kaiser would follow him from room to room even when he had no reason to.
He learned that Kaiser liked having his paws held when he was sleepy.
And he learned that Kaiser slept better when he was touching him.
The first time Isagi let him into the bed, it was raining.
Thunder shook the windows.
Kaiser had been restless all evening.
He paced.
He whined.
Isagi heard the soft sound of paws against the floor.
He sat up.
“Kaiser?”
The dog came closer, stopping at the edge of the bed.
“Are you scared?”
Kaiser’s ears were lowered.
Isagi sighed softly.
“Fine. You can come up.”
Kaiser wagged his tail.
“Wait.” Isagi grabbed a container of wipes. “Your paws.”
Kaiser stopped.
“You’ve been outside. If you’re sleeping here, your paws have to be clean.”
Isagi cleaned each paw carefully.
Then he wiped Kaiser’s nose.
“There.”
Kaiser stared at him.
Isagi pulled back the blankets. “Come here.”
The dog climbed onto the bed without hesitation.
He gently curled himself around Isagi and pressed his nose against Isagi’s chest.
Isagi’s expression softened.
“You’re taking up the whole bed.”
Isagi stroked his fur.
“You know that, right?”
Kaiser closed his eyes.
The rain continued against the window.
Isagi stayed awake for a little while longer, listening to his breathing.
Another crack of thunder sounded.
Kaiser flinched.
Isagi looked down at him.
“You really are scared, aren’t you?”
Kaiser didn’t move.
Isagi’s fingers slipped through the long hair around his ears.
“It’s okay.”
The words came naturally.
“I’m here.”
Kaiser blinked up at him.
Isagi smiled faintly.
“You don’t need to worry.”
The dog pressed closer.
Isagi continued stroking him until the storm passed.
He could feel the tension slowly leaving Kaiser’s body as his breathing deepened.
And eventually, he fell asleep.
Kaiser became even more attached after that.
He followed Isagi everywhere.
If Isagi was in the living room, Kaiser rested his head on his lap.
If Isagi went to bed, Kaiser was already waiting.
If Isagi left the apartment, Kaiser sat by the door until he returned.
And whenever Isagi came home, Kaiser greeted him like he’d been gone for years.
One evening, Isagi returned to find Kaiser sitting by the window.
He didn’t run toward him. He didn’t wag his tail.
He simply watched him.
Isagi frowned.
“Kaiser?”
The dog looked away.
Isagi put down his bag.
“What’s wrong?”
Kaiser only lowered his head.
Isagi sat on the floor beside him.
Kaiser leaned against his shoulder.
Isagi ran his fingers through his fur.
“You’ve been quiet lately.”
Kaiser didn’t respond.
“You miss being human?”
The dog’s ears drooped.
Isagi’s heart ached.
“I understand.”
Isagi gently rested his hand against his neck.
“But you know you’re going back eventually.”
Kaiser closed his eyes.
“And if you don’t…”
Isagi paused.
He thought about the veterinarian’s words.
Some transformations were permanent.
He had tried not to think about it.
“Even if you don’t,” Isagi said quietly, “I’ll take care of you.”
Kaiser’s eyes opened.
“I’m serious.”
Isagi wrapped both arms around him.
“I won’t leave you.”
Kaiser went completely still.
“I don’t care how long this takes.”
The dog’s tail moved once, slowly.
Isagi held him tighter.
“You’re stuck with me, no matter what happens.”
Kaiser buried his face against Isagi’s chest.
Isagi smiled.
“I love you, idiot. Four legs or not.”
That night, Kaiser slept beside him.
Isagi fell asleep with one hand resting in the soft fur at the back of his neck.
He didn’t know that Kaiser stayed awake for a long time.
Somewhere inside that animal body, Kaiser was terrified.
He had never imagined being helpless would feel like this.
He couldn’t tell Isagi he was scared.
He couldn’t explain what it felt like to wake up in a body that couldn’t speak.
He couldn’t explain the humiliation.
The helplessness.
The fear.
He couldn’t explain what it meant to watch Isagi care for him without knowing whether Kaiser would ever be able to repay him.
And worst of all, he couldn’t explain the thought that had haunted him from the beginning.
What if he gets tired of me?
What if Isagi eventually decided that taking care of him wasn’t worth it?
What if he found someone else?
Someone human.
Someone who could stand beside him instead of following him around on four legs.
Someone who could give him everything Kaiser had once thought made him valuable.
But Isagi had stayed.
He had stayed when Kaiser was difficult.
He had stayed when Kaiser was jealous.
He had stayed when Kaiser was frightened.
He had stayed when Kaiser had nothing to offer him except a wagging tail and a head in his lap.
Every night, before falling asleep, Isagi checked that Kaiser was comfortable.
And every morning, the first thing he did was greet him.
Kaiser had spent his entire life believing that love wasn’t something meant for someone like him.
Isagi had simply loved him without asking for anything in return.
That frightened him more than the transformation ever had.
Because now Kaiser knew what it felt like to be loved when he had nothing to offer in return - and he finally understood exactly what he stood to lose.
The next morning, Isagi woke up because something was pressing against his chest.
He smiled sleepily.
“Kaiser.”
No response.
Isagi reached across the bed, his hand searching through the warmth beside him.
His fingers touched bare skin.
Isagi's eyes snapped open.
He froze.
Kaiser’s head was resting against his chest.
Golden hair spilled across the pillow.
Blue eyes opened slowly.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Kaiser smiled.
“Good morning, Yoichi,” Kaiser murmured, his voice low and rough from disuse.
Isagi’s breath caught in his throat.
“Kaiser?”
“Who else would I—”
Kaiser barely had time to brace himself before Isagi threw his arms around him.
Kaiser laughed as Isagi buried his face against his shoulder.
“You’re back.”
“I am.”
“You’re actually back.”
Isagi held him tighter.
Kaiser wrapped his arms around Isagi’s waist.
“You missed me?”
“Shut up.”
“You seem very happy.”
“You have no idea.”
Kaiser smiled against his hair.
Then Isagi pulled back.
His eyes were suspiciously bright.
“How do you feel?” Isagi asked, reaching up to cup Kaiser’s cheek.
“Perfectly healthy.”
“You remember?”
“Everything.”
Isagi went still.
“The walks?”
“Every one.”
“The baths?”
Kaiser’s expression twisted.
“Unfortunately.”
“The training?”
“I will never forgive you for calling me a good boy.”
“You liked it.”
“I did not.”
“You wagged your tail.”
“I was under duress.”
Isagi laughed.
Kaiser watched him quietly.
Then his smile softened.
“Thank you, Yoichi.”
Isagi blinked. “For what?”
“For staying,” Kaiser said quietly.
He took Isagi’s hand and laced their fingers together.
“I was scared.”
The confession made something in Isagi ache.
Kaiser’s thumb brushed over his knuckles.
“I thought that once I became a burden to you, you’d leave.”
“Kaiser…”
“I couldn’t play football. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t do anything for you. I couldn’t even tell you I loved you.”
He looked down at their joined hands.
“And you still took care of me.”
Isagi squeezed his fingers.
“Of course I did.”
Kaiser smiled.
“You told me you wouldn’t abandon me.”
“I meant it.”
“I know.”
Kaiser lifted Isagi’s hand to his lips.
“I spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted after I changed back.”
He straightened.
“I realized I don’t want you to spend your life taking care of me.”
Isagi’s eyes widened.
“I want to be the one taking care of you.”
“Kaiser…”
“For the rest of our lives.”
Isagi stared at him.
Then he laughed.
A startled, breathless laugh that made Kaiser’s smile widen.
“For the rest of our lives,” Isagi repeated quietly.
Kaiser nodded.
“If you’ll have me.”
Isagi looked at him for a long moment, searching his face.
“You’re terrible at taking care of me.”
Kaiser held his gaze. “Then I’ll learn.”
“You will?”
“For you.”
Isagi looked away, a faint flush creeping across his face.
“You really mean that?”
“I learned how to sit. I learned how to come when you called. I think I can learn the rest.”
Something warm settled in Isagi’s chest.
He leaned forward and kissed Kaiser.
Kaiser froze for half a second before kissing him back.
When they finally pulled apart, Isagi was smiling.
“I’ll have you.”
Kaiser blinked. “Really?”
“I already told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Something in Kaiser’s expression softened.
“Then I’ll make damn sure you never regret choosing me.”
He pulled Isagi closer, brushing a soft kiss against his lips.
When they parted, Isagi settled against him, resting comfortably in his arms.
They stayed like that for a moment, holding each other close.
Then Isagi’s smile turned mischievous.
“Although…”
Kaiser looked at him.
“There’s one thing I’m going to miss.”
Kaiser raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“You.”
Kaiser’s expression blanked.
“You were different as a dog.”
“…Obviously.”
“Quieter.”
“I could not speak.”
“More spoiled.”
“Yoichi.”
“And cuter.”
Kaiser looked offended.
“I’m still perfectly capable of being cute.”
Isagi reached up and scratched behind his ear. “Really?”
Kaiser instinctively leaned into the touch.
Then he went still.
Isagi’s smile slowly widened.
“…Don’t say it.” Kaiser muttered.
“You liked that.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
Kaiser looked away, dignity in tatters.
Isagi laughed and scratched behind his ear again.
“Good boy.”
A faint flush touched Kaiser’s cheeks.
“…Wuff.”