By sunrise the next day Syri was already up, dressed, and had fixed breakfast. Kaze and Kantama only watched in awe as the blind woman swept through the house like a hurricane. They'd already eaten their share of food and so had plenty of time to gawk, though one was significantly less impressed than the other simply because he'd been living with her for far longer. It was a testament to her skills that she could still make the cat surprised even after all this time.

Soon after they'd finished their portions of breakfast it was time to go. Syri was walking out the door when Kaze came up beneath her hand. Smiling, she asked if he wanted to lead again and laughed when she felt his head dip up and down.

"Alright then, lead on dear heart!" she cried gallantly, pointing her way-cane dramatically at the sky.

And so she went to work led by a very large wolf, though of course everyone who saw the pair just thought him to be some exotic dog breed or just an enormous mutt. Nonetheless several people who'd been planning pranks to pull on the blind woman that day decided not to play their various tricks once said wolf gave them a sharp glare. It wasn't until she actually arrived at work that the trouble started.

"Absolutely not! There is no way that mongrel can stay in here!"

"Kaze is not a mongrel! He's my guide dog!"

Syri was currently toe-to-toe with one of her meaner co-workers, this version having the name Cynthia. Whilst tall and quite attractive, the woman was cursed with the screechiest voice he'd ever heard. That voice was, at the moment, rising to glass-breaking heights as the banshee protested Kaze's presence. While he was sure there were all sorts of reasons why he shouldn't quantify the woman down to just her attitude and her voice (stereotype much?) he just couldnot help it. Her voice hurt!

He heaved a sigh. Oh how his ears suffered.

"What's going on here?!" Mr. Thompson, the boss of the two bickering women as well as the rest of that department (Kaze was able to quickly deduce this by the man's name tag and how everyone shut up once he got close), strode up with a clipboard in hand and a furious expression on face. Even the light glinting off his balding cranium seemed agitated. Kaze was impressed.

"Mr. Thompson! Our beloved Lady Dark," that was a favorite nickname among those who didn't like Syri, though Kaze thought it was one of the silliest "insulting" nicknames he'd ever heard of, "seems to think it's alright for her to come traipsing in here with an enormous, vicious-looking mutt!"

Kaze tried his best to appear harmless. It wasn't too hard, since he'd already laid down at Syri's feet and put his head on his paws. All he had to do was close his eyes and pretend to be asleep with one ear twitching now and then. He risked a peep up at the humans when he sensed someone kneeling in front of him. It was Mr. Thompson and the man was staring at him quite intently.

Deciding to play up the "I'm a sweet little puppy, love me!" act, Kaze raised his head and tilted it, letting his tongue loll and panting happily. Giving a soft woof, he leaned forward and rubbed against Mr. Thompson's outstretched hand. He'd done this bit before and so was well able to perfectly execute the age-old routine. When the man pulled his hand back Kaze half sat up, giving the human puppy eyes and pawing at his pant leg, as though he wanted more attention.

Charmed, Mr. Thompson straightened and said, "He doesn't seem vicious to me, Cynthia. And it would help us if Syri had a guide dog to keep her from getting lost."

The blind woman blushed, "That only happened once, Mr. Thompson! I told you, I dropped my way-cane and couldn't--"

"Be that as it may, sir, I still protest the dog's presence here!" Cynthia interrupted shrilly.

"Well that's just too bad!" Mr. Thompson's face set into a scowl as he rounded on the woman, snapping, "If you hadn't taken it into your head to start this little feud, both of you would already be working and we wouldn't have customers outside waiting on us! Get to work now!"

Cynthia "hmph!"-ed and marched off, no doubt plotting how to get rid of the pesky animal in the quickest way possible. Once she was gone Mr. Thompson seemed to deflate, all irritation draining out of him. He turned to Syri and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Syri, you really should've asked me if it was alright for you to bring a dog in here."

Her blind gaze fell to the ground, her toe absently tracing patterns in the thin layer of dirt that coated the floor. "Well, I was afraid you'd say no..."

He smiled and shrugged, though the gesture was lost on Syri. "The pup's no threat to anyone so far as I can tell," Kaze didn't appreciate that remark in the least; even if it was the image he'd been aiming for it was still rather insulting, "and no one can really protest a blind woman having a guide dog. Now go on to work now, or I'll have to dock your pay."

Beaming, Syri bobbed her head and chirped, "Yessir!" Turning she called for Kaze to come on and hurried to the elevator, the canine giving an indignant bark and clambering to his paws. He loped after her, whining once he'd reached her side. She glanced at him without seeing and murmured something placating, giving the dog a good scratch behind the ears.

Mr. Thompson watched the two board the elevator, a faint smile lingering on his lips. His late wife had adored dogs, and had had one that looked a bit like the one that was following Syri now, though in a much smaller size. After her death that pup had been one of the few things he had left that she'd ever loved, and he'd hoped that it would live on and help him keep her memory alive. It wasn't to be, however, because the dog had pined for her, eventually coming to rest in a small grave beside hers.

Tapping his clipboard idly against his thigh, he gazed at where Syri and her guide dog had been standing. His wife had only been dead a year when he'd met the blind woman, and she was the one with her relentless determination to live life as best she could that had pulled him from his depression. He thought of her as his daughter, the one he wished he and his beloved wife had had.

Today was the third anniversary of her death, and just when he'd been resigning himself to a day of melancholy and bittersweet memories, Syri had come with something to brighten his day. Her dog, who reminded him of the one who perished to be with his wife, had been just the thing to lift his spirits.

"I wish you could have met her, Helen. I wish you could've."

Shaking his head ruefully, he went back to work, observing with a smile that now she'd have someone to protect her.