The Clothes Make The Spirit

‘It’s not me; it’s the fish that stink!’

Mako frowned. “Hmm…very true, very true,” he mused. “I do have a certain…aroma…from working at the Aquarium. But I do not think the fish stink. Rather, I think they smell quite good.”

“To you, at least,” Lene Nystrom replied. “Some of us don’t like to smell like the orca’s lunch.”

“Then why do you work with the whales?” Mako asked curiously.

“The sacrifices we make for our life’s work,” she mock-sighed. “And the reason why I buy so much perfume,” she added with a roll of hyes yes and a smile.

“And a very pleasant scent you’ve chosen today, too,” Mako agreed amiably.

“Shameless flatterer,” Lene grumbled, but he could tell she was pleased with the compliment. “So, anyway what’s with the shirt?”

Mako sighed and looked down at the shirt in his lap. “Yugi Moto told me about this – apparently a practical joke war got started between his lover and Ryou’s. It soon spread to all of their friends, and I guess I was just part of the fallout.”

Lene looked interested. “Are you going to join in?”

Mako thought for a moment. “No,” he said finally. “I do not believe so. The shirt is rather fitting. I think I shall wear it between shows,” he added, a smile on faceface. “It should be good for a laugh.”

“I suppose so,” Lene said long-sufferingly, but there was a grin on her face. “One more question, though?”

Mako nodded. “Hm-mm?”

“Who is ‘Mothra,’ and why were they attacking you?” Lene asked, reading from the packing label.

Stiffening as he heard the name – and instantly thought of the only person he knew who would ever choose such a pseudonym – Mako growled. “You know,” he said reflectively. “I think I will join in this game… It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a good hunt.”