Chiroptera Dialogues

“They possess a flight capability almost equal to that of birds.”

“…”

“They don’t just chase after prey they can see—they anticipate where the next one will be and fly the optimal path accordingly. Their horizontal flight speed can reach up to 160 kilometers per hour.”

“…”

“They have few natural enemies and a low mortality rate. And because flight imposes physical constraints, they can’t afford high reproductive output.”

Zzzzt—

The ceiling light’s faint noise answered in place of words.

“It’s likely that to leave behind enough offspring, they had no choice but to evolve long lifespans.”

Kon.

“It’s been observed that bats maintain this longevity through unique metabolic regulation. During torpor, their breathing and heart rate drop drastically, entering a kind of suspended animation.”

Kon. Kon.

“There’s even a recorded case of a greater mouse-eared bat living over twenty years.”

Kon. Gii, gii. Kon.

“Kaizuka Inaho.”

Slaine lifted his chin slightly. The fringe hanging over his nose cast delicate shadows along both cheeks. His right hand, which had been tapping the table lightly—kon, kon, kon—turned palm up and rested across his mouth.

“What?”

His gaze drifted right. Then down. That hand slowly sank, until his cheek rested heavily on its back.

“What are you trying to say, orange?”

His eyes flicked toward the center of the table. On the open encyclopedia under the sterile room light, a color photo showed a Townsend’s big-eared bat with wings spread in the darkness.

—Chiroptera / Mammalia / Found in regions across the world, approx. 1,000–1,400 species—

Inaho turned over his right hand. As if wrapping a question inside his palm.

“Do you hate bats?”

I actually like them, quite a bit.

“I didn’t ask. Your stories are boring.”

A long breath escaped.

If breath had color, his would be a poisonous viridian—thick and heavy. Inaho let out a quiet snort through his nose, amused by the imagined hue of it.