source of light, no matter how weak. Noticing that faint glow called for darkness, a total darkness like that of the director’s office, without windows or emergency exit signs” (Dr. Sakakibara).
They immediately launched a control experiment. When the two mice were completely separated from each other and observed for light emissions, it became clear that they did not glow when alone.
This answered one of the mysteries, namely, the issue of glowing winged mice. Reexamining their past observations, they established that all of the experiments specific to light had been performed on lone specimens. This discovery was sufficient proof that the tales of glowing winged mice were not mere legend. Light-emitting behavior was observed only when two conditions were satisfied: darkness and the presence of two winged mice.
“Come to think of it, this could have been inferred from Mr. Abe’s testimony, but we were both quite excited by the discovery” (Dr. Sakakibara).
Using high ISO film and infrared film, Dr. Sakakibara took multiple photos of the glowing mice with a presentation in mind, but because the glow was too faint or the ray was somehow unique, the emissions failed to show in the developed film. The fact thatthe photos could not prove the validity of their experiment later became the largest factor inhibiting the publication of a paper.
At this point, no particular enfeeblement was noticed in the winged mice themselves. There was no change in the amount of bog moss consumed or in physical activity, as minimal as the latter was to begin with. In truth, precisely this was the pitfall of their experiment, which ran without a control group.
A change suddenly occurred on the seventh day. Dr. Akedera was the first to notice it. The white flake sawdust under the winged mice was abnormally moist. There was no associated odor, however, and Dr. Akedera noticed that the cause was a clear liquid leaking from the eyes of the mice. A compositional analysis found it to be identical in makeup to normal mammalian blood. A second riddle –– that of the weeping winged mouse –– was thus solved in short succession.
Dr. Sakakibara regretted on the same day that “Weshould have weighed the winged mice,” and his worries came true. A loss of blood in the form of tears sufficient to moisten the white flake would soon exceed the total body fluid level of a winged mouse.
The mice were quickly separated, and that night was devoted to treatment. A long metal tube was attached to a syringe and introduced into the mouth, through which a physiological saline solution was force-fed, with sub-dermal injections also made from the back. The tears continued to fall, however, at a pace that only an intravenous drip (which was indeed attempted) could counter. Hard to discern at first even upon being pointed out and actively sought, by the ninth day it was clear that the liquid was dripping from the eyes. For a winged mouse, which weighed barely two hundred grams, a day’s worth of tears equaled about a quarter of its bodily fluid mass, and ten sub-dermal injections meant replacing all of its blood.
“Looking at those tears, I wanted to cry myself,” Dr. Sakakibara recalled about that period.
Dr. Akedera saw to the treatment, but for some reason Dr. Sakakibara suggested that the two mice be placed in an undivided chamber. There was the fact that “as they were, they would obviously die,” but there was another reason, simply a fancy, “all too human, in no way scientific, that the tears were a lamentation that they could not be together.” Since Dr. Akedera had always wanted to place them together, he naturally agreed. However, “Dr. Akedera had some idea of how the story was going to end, and I could not fathom his true intentions” (Dr. Sakakibara).
When the two winged mice were placed together, they maintained a certain distance, which they closed only gradually. After a while, they began to flutter their wings finely, and their