As the weeks passed, Floyd continued to spend more and more time with Akuma. He was frequently late for work and sometimes he even raced home on his half hour lunch break to see her, even if it was only for a few minutes. He thought it was strange how she seemed to be putting on weight even though she barely touched her food. Conversely, Floyd was losing weight. He wasn’t a large man to begin with, but he didn’t pay it much attention. He’d been skipping lunch a few times a week in order to see the rabbit. That was surely what it was.

One day, he got a call from his mother. She wanted to know how he was doing, what he was up to, if he was still hung up on “that girl.”

“I’ve found someone else,” he told her. “Someone I care about more than anyone else I’ve ever known.”

“Bring her to see me sometime!” his mother said. “Come for Easter. What’s she like?”

“She’s quiet,” Floyd said, neglecting to mention that she was a rabbit. “But thoughtful.”

As more and more time went by, Akuma continued to grow healthier and larger, and Floyd continued to skip work, meals, and sleep. He grew thin and gaunt. His co-workers invited him to a New Year’s party, but he declined, instead staying at home and watching Akuma. She occupied every second of his thoughts, and he felt physically ill if he was away from her for too long. It got to the point where he panicked if he was gone even for a few minutes. By the time February rolled around, he had stopped going to work entirely. He stopped going anywhere, in fact. Little by little, his food ran out. He’d stopped feeding Akuma weeks ago, but she was still thriving. She’s living off of my love, he thought to himself. He was sure of it.

A week and a half after his food ran out, his mother tried to call him. She wanted to confirm his visit for Easter. When she didn’t receive an answer, she figured that he was at work, asleep, or doing something else.

After his mother tried calling him four more times over the next week, she started to worry. She’d left him messages, told him to call her. She called one of his co-workers, who told her that he hadn’t been in work for months, and that nobody had been able to contact him for over a week. Floyd’s mother asked the co-worker to call the police.

-----------------------

“God, this place is a mess.”

“Your house would be a mess too if you don't show up to work for two months.”

“Maybe I should do that. Nobody would file a missing persons report for me.”

“Hello? Anybody home?” There was no answer. The two police officers peered through the icy window. The house was dark.

“Looks like nobody’s home.”

“Let’s try the door.” The taller police officer turned the knob, which turned out to be unlocked. They carefully made their way into the house.

“Jesus, it’s freezing in here!”

“Tell me about it.”

“Nobody in here. Let’s try through that door.” They walked through the kitchen and opened the door to Floyd’s bedroom. The shorter police officer sniffed.

“Does it smell funny to you?”

“Yeah. Weird, it almost smells like rotting - Jesus Christ!” There, lying on the bed, was a very dead Floyd Perrone. Huddled in his lap was Akuma, who was emaciated and shivering.

“I guess that’s why he wasn’t in work.”

“I’ll call it in. Is that a rabbit in his lap?”

“Yeah, poor thing. It probably hasn’t eaten in a week.”

The officer clicked on the radio. “Hello? Yeah, this is Parkson. Fiera and I are on a missing persons case and...well, we just found him.”

-----------------------

The little red-haired girl and her mother walked through the halls of the animal shelter. The shelter employee was droning on about how they were funded by city council or something. The daughter was bouncing up and down, chattering about every single fluffy animal they passed.

“Mama!” the little girl squealed suddenly. “I like this one!”

The mother approached the cage, and peered inside. There was a small rabbit huddled inside, which looked as if it had just been put through a commercial dishwasher.

“That poor girl’s been through a lot,” the shelter employee said. “Both of her two previous owners died, and she got returned here.”

The mother nodded, not listening. The rabbit was beautiful, she thought. Pure white, but for three black spots.

“She's beautiful," she murmured. "We'll take her."