Ginji faded in and out of consciousness on Sunday. He woke up only when he was hungry – which was twice. I sat next to him almost all day. Whenever his eyes opened he would smile and say 'good morning' not because he was confused about the time but, because those are the first two things he does when he wakes up and sees me. It's like clockwork. First he smiles then he wishes me a good morning. Every single time he wakes up, even if it isn't morning. I can always trust Ginji to be steady.

In the afternoon I excused myself to run some errands. I woke him up before I left to tell him where I was going. He always gets nervous when he doesn't know where I am. I got lucky and made it to the seven day branch of the bank before it closed. Then I went to find a post office mail drop box. Paying cell phone and car insurance bills is unpleasant. But, we still had enough money left over to eat for the next few days or maybe get a hotel when I was done.

After that I went to find myself something to eat. Then I went to a consignment shop to see if I couldn't find Ginji something new to wear. My grandmother always said that I would get fleas if shopped in secondhand clothing stores. Partially to spite her and partially because Ginji and I are dirt poor but, mostly because I'm cheap, I make sure to patronize thrift shops every chance I get.

I managed to slip back into the hospital before it closed for visitation for the night. I thought that I was going to have to leave and find some place outside to sleep for the night. But, a redheaded nurse recognized me and told me that she would let me stay in if I kept very quiet. I agreed and found my way back into Ginji's room. He was still sleeping. I turned on the television and managed to stay awake until about midnight before the flickering lights lulled me to sleep with my arms folded as a pillow on the middle of Ginji's bed.

I woke up when something poked me. I sat bolt upright and snarled, "Leave me alone, damnit" before I had actually gathered the information necessary to determine where I was or who was prodding me or what they were prodding me with. I was in the hospital. It was morning. Ginji was poking me with my folded glasses.

He was urging in a hoarse whisper, "Wake up, wake up." Even with all that he had been through Ginji had an amazing recovery time. The cuts on his face and fingers were not yet fully healed. But, the color was back in his cheeks and the mischief had returned to his eyes. They smiled when he saw I was awake, "Good morning!"

I was not in the mood to be grateful that he was okay. I only swore at him and took my glasses back. I am absolutely vile in the morning. Before I get a strong cup of coffee and smoke a cigarette I see everything through a haze of unbridled restlessness and irritability. I have no idea how Ginji puts up with me. He is a saint, so fucking patient that it makes me want to curl over and die.

He brightly told me something along the lines of being ready to check out of the hospital after one final check up and I darkly muttered something about 'clothes' while pointing menacingly at the shopping bag which I had stashed next to the bed. I remember telling him as I left the room that he could find me outside the main entrance when he was done.

In the lobby I bought us breakfast and I bought myself a coffee. Afterwards I quietly retreated to the curb outside of the hospital. The street was crowded. But, people gave me plenty of space. I must have looked as grumpy as I felt. Between sips and drags I regained some semblance of coherent thought.

I decided that we needed a day off. In reality every day we didn't have an assignment is a day off. But, we need to go somewhere to relax. The beach would have been nice. But, I decided against it because Gin would probably get all sorts of salt and sand in his wounds.

I love the beach. I love the way Ginji smells after we've been in the water and the way he manages to get sand in his hair – even if it is annoying when he tracks it into the car. I could lie in the sun without moving for hours and be the happiest man in the world. Ginji thinks that it is weird not to want to build sand castles or go people watching or swimming. Ginji also gets better tans than I do. Specifically, my fair complexion burns in the same amount of time it takes his to turn a pleasant bronze. That lucky bastard – girls love his radiant skin. Chicks also dig scars. And I've got plenty of those where Ginji doesn't.

Someone interuppted my meditation by tapping me gently on the head. It was Ginji. I looked up at him. His blonde hair seemed to make a halo around his pretty head. With the sun lighting him from behind it seemed to glow against the cloudless blue sky. He grinned as if he did not remember anything of the tramua of the past few days, "Doctor says I'm healthy." He helped me up. I handed him his breakfast. "But, he gave me these to make sure I don't get an infection."

He tried to show me a bottle of pills. I told him that I wasn't interested because antibiotics don't have much of a street value. He didn't catch my sarcasm and he put the bottle away in his pocket. So, I lit another cigarette and dropped the subject. He ate his muffin silently then was unusually quiet for the next few blocks. He seemed to have been lost in thought, which is not unusual. But, I noticed after a bit that he was muttering something under his breath.

I gave him a sidelong glance and asked suspiciously, "Ginji, are you talking to yourself?" I was completely convinced that he had lost his mind.

He turned to me. My hearing is good but, I only caught about half of what he said, "Your kisses take me higher, like the sweet song of a choir. You light my morning sky with burning love."

My glasses slid down my stupefied face, "Excuse me?"

"That's Shakespeare. Right?" His hansom brown eyes were completely trusting and just a little bit confused, "I told that cute redheaded nurse that and she laughed."

"Smooth, Ginji. Were you trying to pick her up? Because that isn't Shakespeare, goofball." I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose. "That's Elvis."

"Oh," as usual he breathed. "I understand." I wanted to ask what the hell had possessed him to quote Elvis to try to get a girl. But, he shamelessly changed the subject before I could say anything. He never ceases to amaze me, "What are we going to do today?"

I told Ginji that I had decided that we should go to the park. He was ecstatic. The park is just about as good as the beach because I can lie out in the sun on the grass. But, it is not as good as the beach because we have to keep our clothes on. It loomed in the distance. The closest entrance to us was alongside both the playground and the baseball diamond. Every time we pass that way children squeal, "Mr. Ginji! Mr. Ginji!" Children and animals love him. That must be why Shido likes him so much.

The kids usually all have something new to show him and if we aren't in too much of a hurry he stops to look. He kneels next to them and patiently tells them how wonderful this thing they learned in school or that thing they found under a rock is. Mothers used to be afraid of him – because there is something a bit odd about a grown man who hangs out with little kids. But, eventually they realized that Ginji is harmless. He doesn't try to make children like him, they just naturally gather around him. Kids are smart. They seem to know that, while he is gentle and kind, he is also very strong. I think they feel safe with him.

As I said, it wasn't Ginji who approached the children. The children just happened to approach Gin. Everywhere we go he attracts them like a magnet – I'm afraid that someday we're going to end up having one follow us and we aren't going to be able to get rid of it. Anyhow, one day we were canvassing the high-traffic area close to the entrance of the park with flyers looking for work. The kids kept hitting foul balls which would bounce towards us. I ignored them. But, Ginji would stop what he was doing, pick them up and throw them back.

I turned around for one minute to talk to some woman and when I turned back around Ginji was gone. I looked all around for him – I was afraid he had gotten himself lost – and when I finally found him on the pitcher's mound throwing softly for the kids and giving them advice about how to hit. I started to call him back. But, I found I couldn't. His blonde hair and brown eyes were shining and he looked very happy. So happy, in fact, that some days I make up excuses to go to the park when I know the kids are there just so I can watch him play.

Today was one of those days. As soon as we were ten paces into the park Ginji had gathered a flock of children. Ginji greeted each and every one of them by name. He tells me that one of the reasons that I have trouble getting along with people is because I make no effort to learn their names as soon as I meet them.

A little boy with brown hair clung to Ginji's hand and tugged as he looked up at him, "Mr. Ginji? Are you here to play with us?"

Ginji glanced at me – for approval, I guess. I nodded. He grinned down at the child and answered, "Of course I'm here to play with you! Why else would I be here?"

There was a chorus of joyful noises from the children. They all gently fought for his attention. He laughed. I love his laugh. His smile is so beautiful. It was such a relief to hear his laugh and see his smile. I had thought that he had suffered permanent damage. But, Ginji is stronger than I had realized. He knelt down, "Calm down, kidamles. One at a time." The raucous only grew louder. "One at a time – I said. I can't listen to all of you at once."

I stood a short distance off and watched them. After a while started to feel like some strange sort of voyeur. So, I adjusted my glasses to cover my eyes and looked away. I was just about walk off and find a nice spot on the grass to sleep on when something warm curled around the pinky and ring fingers of my right hand. It startled me. I almost jumped. I looked down and a stray little girl with dark eyes and dark hair was looking up at me. She couldn't have been older than five.

I very eloquently managed to express all of my thoughts with one word, "Ummm…"

She just stood there silently gazing up at me. Her eyes were so dark that I couldn't distinguish the iris from the pupil. So, I had a hard time deciding if she was cute or creepy. They shined wetly. I had no idea what she wanted from me. Maybe Ginji would know. I asked, "Don't you want to play with Ginji?" With my free hand I indicated the direction of Ginji.

She turned her cute, creepy eyes towards Ginji. Her grip loosened. I started to sigh with relief. Her grip tightened again. I swore under my breath. I hoped she didn't hear me. "Okay – you don't want to play with Ginji. Where's your mom?"

She gave me a blank look. I wanted to get rid of her. But, I'm definitely not the type of son of a bitch that just leaves a kid on her own. "Not here with your mom. Okay. How about your dad?"

Her expression didn't change. "Not here with dad, either. Maybe a nanny?"

She blinked. "No nanny. What? Are you here alone?"

I didn't get a response. "Kid. Who are you here with?" I spaced out the words slowly so she would understand.

She paused for a long moment then pointed up at me. "Me? You're here with me." I laughed nervously and looked desperately around for Ginji. But, he had made his way over to the baseball diamond and was dividing the kids up into teams. "Damn." That time I knew she heard me swear. "I guess you're right. You are here with me."

I took a step. She did not move. She had a death grip on my fingers. "Come on kid," I coaxed diplomatically. "We're just going to go to that bench right there and sit down until somebody comes to get you. Okay?"

After about a minute she followed. But, I had to walk very slowly because she took very tiny steps. It took forever to get to the bench.

I watched the first inning. Ginji pitched. He switches position at the end of every inning. So, that the teams are even and he doesn't hog any one position from the kids. It's sweet, really, the way he cares so much. I don't think the kids would mind if he just pitched the entire game. The little girl just sat there holding my hand. My palms were starting to get sweaty.

I rummaged around in my pocket and found my pack of cigarettes. I really need to cut down. It is starting to cost us a lot of money. I found my lighter. But, I had a hard time lighting with just my left hand because there was a slight breeze. When I finally lit I turned my head in the opposite direction of my charge and exhaled that way out of respect for her young lungs.

Ginji was at bat. He hit a home run and ran the bases grinning and laughing like a maniac. He always hits two home runs per game – one for each team. He seems obsessed with being fair. I think I could list the most important things in his life as food, the GetBackers, sex, the abstract ideas of justice and love and baseball.

I agree that the first five things on that list are important. But, I think baseball sucks. I played baseball with Ginji and the little kids once. I swear on my life it was one of the worst experiences I have ever had. Ginji let two of the older boys pick teams. Ginji was picked first. I was picked last. Allow me to repeat: I was picked last. Ginji thought it was a laugh riot. I think he told them to pick me last because he thought it would be funny. I didn't think it was funny.

Anyhow, I had never played baseball before and I thought hitting would be easy. But, Ginji threw the pitches to me super fast and I struck out all nine times I went up to bat. After the game was over I threw what I guess could be called a hissy fit and vowed that I would never play baseball with Ginji again. He pouted a little bit and told me I was a sore loser. But, I have kept good to my word and I haven't played one game of baseball since then.

The little girl's grip had loosened slightly. I looked over at her. She inspecting my hand closely, looking at my nails and my rings. She was concentrating on the ring which is shaped like a snake curling around my ring finger with two tiny, glinting sapphires for eyes. I softly commented, "You've got good taste, kid."

It is the only one I wear that is worth anything. She didn't reply. She just kept staring. I continued to speak even though I knew I might as well have been talking to myself, "My grandmother gave that to me. It belonged to my father. Me and him and that snake all have the same eyes." I lent down and lowered my glasses so she had a clear view of my eyes. "See?"

She got the same glazed over, inward gazing expression on her face as people do when they are about to fall into one of my Jagon. So, I adjusted my glasses and looked away. "When do you suppose they'll be done playing?" I finally got a reaction from her. She shrugged.

"Soon?" She nodded. It looked like she was right. The kids were all sluggish and tired. We sat in silence for the next few minutes. "I'm hungry." She didn't say anything. I had an idea, "How about a magic trick?"

I hid a 100 yen coin in my hand, pretended to fish around somewhere behind her ear then pulled it out with a flourish. I'm so lame, "Wow! Look what I found."

Suddenly she looked like she was going to cry. I guess I scared her. Tears welled up in her eyes. I urged, "Hey, hey, hey. Don't do that." The tears fell heavily down her cheeks. She let go of my hand. I reached out and wiped the tears off of her cheeks with my sleeve. "Don't do that. I'm sorry. I know. Magic sucks. I shouldn't have done that." She started wailing loudly.

I had no idea what to do. I looked desperately around for Ginji. I didn't see him anywhere. The baseball diamond had cleared out and was completely barren. I looked back down at the little girl. She just kept crying. I felt like people were staring at the two of us. I really didn't have any idea what to do.

"What happened? I thought you two were friends," strangely when I glanced up again and Ginji was standing next to me, gazing down at me and the little girl with confusion. He immediately reached out scooped the girl away from me.

"I don't know," I threw up my defeated hands and growled with frustration.

He ignored me, "Aw, sweetheart. Don't cry. Did mean old Ban-chan scare you? He is a scary dude, you know. He scares me sometimes, too. But, he isn't that bad. He isn't a bad guy. He is just scary sometimes."

He smiled to himself, "He doesn't mean it. That is just the way he is." She had stopped crying and hiccupped wetly. I had the feeling that it wasn't the words that she was listening to but, the tone of his voice. It was very soothing. She clung to his broad shoulders with her tiny fists.

He continued, "He wants to be your friend. Are you done crying now?" She nodded against his neck. "That's better." He put her down then squatted to her level. He didn't have any tissues. So, in a completely disgusting, yet somehow endearing gesture, he wiped her nose with his fingers then brushed them against his shorts, "Ew. Snot. That's what happens when you cry."

He ruffled her hair, "Now. Go give Ban-chan a kiss and then find your brother. He is waiting for you by the water fountain." She climbed up on the bench, gave me a kiss on the cheek and ran away.

Ginji turned to me as if he hadn't just appeared out of nowhere and performed a miracle, "Are you hungry? Because I'm starving."

"Yeah," I murmured. "I'm hungry."

I let Ginji decide where we should eat. We ended up going to someplace with silverware and milkshakes because Ginji really likes milkshakes and we do this thing with the silverware to amuse ourselves whenever we go to this particular restaurant. As we are walking to be seated Gin surreptitiously uses his magnetic power to pick up the forks from each of the tables we pass. When we sit down he lines them up and magnetizes them.

Then we order. We both ordered cheeseburgers. I ordered a coffee and he ordered a strawberry milkshake. When the waitress walked away I cracked my knuckles and started. I build structures out of the forks – towers and bridges and such – while Ginji narrates. People give us dirty looks because we're kind of loud. But, we get a kick out of our game. So, I suppose that it doesn't really matter what they think.

Ginji folded his gloved palms onto the table and rested his head on top of them, "Today Ban Midou—"

"The Great, Invincible Ban Midou – world's strongest architect," I corrected.

Gin rolled his eyes and amended, "The Great, Invincible Ban Midou – world's strongest architect will build—what are you building, Ban-chan?"

I twirled a fork between my fingers as I thought, "I don't know. You decide."

"The Great, Invincible Ban Midou – world's strongest architect will build … a tower made of forks."

I tapped the fork on the table, "I dunno. Didn't we make a tower last time?"

Ginji nodded, "Yeah. We did. But, it only had ten forks. This one should have twelve."

That was going to be a challenge. I smiled, "Good point."

I made the base out of four forks, splayed out like the legs of a chair and joined at the top by their prongs. Ginji counted, "Four."

I pressed another four forks together by the prongs and clipped them to the base. This time, instead of splaying out the ends of the forks, I made them come together like the petals of a closed flower. Ginji doesn't know it but, I cheat a little bit by pinching the prongs of the forks closed with my right hand. They stick better like that. And I don't really care that the busboys hate me because two of them have to work together to pull the silverware apart when I'm done with it. He narrated, "Eight. Four more."

I stuck two more forks in the top of the structure where the ends of the four forks I had just attached to the base, "Two more. Where are you going to put them?"

I held the two remaining forks in my left hand, "I can't decide."

"Balance them on top," Ginji suggested.

"Okay. Give me a drum roll." He beat a drum roll with a couple of straws on the table. He has a wonderful natural sense of rhythm. He can dance and move his feet and hips and hands to all different times in the music. Making a good beat isn't hard for him. But, somehow that is the only musical quality he has in him. He is totally tone deaf. So, it irritates my trained ear off when he hums or tries to sing.

I bent the prongs of two forks together and carefully balanced them on top. It looked for a second as if they were going to fall. They tipped, slowly turned and stayed. Ginji cheered. I laughed. We admired our work.

The waitress came by and dropped Ginji's milkshake down on the table. Our eyes met. I knocked over the tower lunging for Ginji's drink. Forks spilled loudly across the floor as I sucked greedily at the strawberry shake. Ginji protested, "That's mine, you greedy bastard." He smacked me about the ears. One would think that after all this time he would have learned to keep his eyes on me.

I released the drink and shoved it towards him. He looked sadly at what was left of it, "Why didn't you order your own?"

"I didn't feel like it," I swirled a spoon around in my coffee. He sat there silently. I relented, "Get another one. I promise I won't touch it."

"That's a damned lie," he was right. I was lying. But, strawberry milkshakes are good. I can't help myself. He swirled the whipped cream around in the bottom of his almost empty glass with his straw. He was quiet for longer than I had expected. He suddenly changed the subject. I was totally unprepared, "Hey, Ban-chan, what exactly happened the other day?"

My high heart sunk. He couldn't be serious, "You mean you don't know?"

"I remember some things," his eyes were veiled with thick, black lashes and they did not look up from where his hands were fidgeting.

"Oh," I breathed heavily. The syllable hung in the air between us. I did not know what to say. I did not know how to approach telling him. My mouth was dry and when our food came neither of us were hungry anymore.