Thirteen curled up in the corner of the sofa, his doggy eyes glistening with moisture as he warily glanced toward the bathroom, his expression alert.
He didn’t know why, but every time the big dog came out of the bathroom, it made him feel uneasy—that gaze, like that of a troublemaker ready to cause trouble at any moment, made his hindquarters feel cold.
The sound of water stopped, and Bruce emerged wrapped in a towel, with droplets of water still clinging to his shoulders. He hummed a tune, like a house cat freshly bathed in a hot spring, collapsing onto the sofa with a relaxed air. He tore open a box of chocolate, grabbed a handful, and stuffed it into his mouth.
“Ah—” he exhaled, chewing with a mouthful of sweetness.
Thirteen hesitated for a moment, then picked up the beef jerky Dia
