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There was a stray cat in Kanade's neighborhood.
Kanade had not been there for that glorious day its presence had been bestowed on the streets of her uneventful residential area. Ena had somehow managed to convince her to accompany her to an overnight picnic in the mountains with Airi and Shizuku to "help with inspirations for your next song". It had been a more… exciting ordeal than Kanade had bargained for — which involved Ena being chased by a bee and Airi falling down a cliff, among other things — but her friend was right. The refreshing, peaceful atmosphere of the mountains and the endless green were somehow the exact thing Kanade had needed to get her creativity flowing again, and she came back — rejuvenated and impassioned — ready to take another shot at saving people through music.
To be frank, she only heard it from her good neighbor An a couple of days later, as the other dropped by her house to drop off some homemade cookies, courtesy of hers truly.
"By the way, do you know that someone left a cat on the sidewalk near our house the other day?" An casually leaned on the counter, watching Kanade munch on a cookie. She looked as cool and wild as ever in her usual street attire — so effortlessly lively and charismatic, and so so out of place with the boring color palette of the Yoisaki residence's kitchen. "The poor thing!"
Kanade blinked. Sympathy for this unknown cat immediately set in, as was human's apparent innate tendency to sympathize with animals. "Oh dear. What happened?"
"Nothing dramatic. No one even saw it when whoever its ex-owner was left the box there," An shrugged. "One moment it had a home, the next another innocent housepet has been dumped on the street."
The dark-haired girl bowed her head, disapproval evident in the way her brows drew together. She muttered. "Didn't even leave it some food or something. Jackass."
Having been friends with An for a while, Kanade had gotten used to the dark-haired girl's rather… colorful language. She mirrored An's frown, though it was more out of concern than anger.
"That's so sad. How is it now?"
"I don't know. Doing well, I hope," An sighed, tapping her foot — a sign of agitation. "It seems like a rather active cat. It didn't… stay in the box for people to pass by and gawk at — it keeps wandering off who knows where. Kohane has been leaving some food in its box though, and we saw it empty once, so at least we know that it still returns there at some points."
"That's nice of you guys to give it food," Kanade smiled at her. An waved her hand dismissively, though she returned the expression.
"Aw, shucks, it's nothing. You know we couldn't just leave a poor helpless animal alone. Right outside of our house, no less."
Kanade knew. She never doubted it.
"Has anyone talked of adopting it?"
"None that I know of," An pursed her lips. "Everyone I’ve seen talking about it has their reason for why they’re unable to take in a pet. Minori has a dog, Momoi-san is allergic, and the Kamishiro household…” She tried to suppress it, but her face scrunched up just the tiniest bit. “Maybe that’s for the best.”
“What about you?” Kanade inquired.
“Me?” An gasped dramatically. “Our landlord will kill us if he ever smells so much as a strand of fur! We’re already on thin enough ice with him for trying to convince him to let us keep Count Pearl.”
Kanade chuckled. “Guess that just leaves me then.”
“You?” An peered at her, a fond, exasperated smile playing on her lips. “No offense, Kanade, but you can barely take care of yourself.”
“Oof,” Kanade winced at the light-hearted jab. “I guess you’re right…”
Though she would like to argue that she had gotten so much better since, well, everyone had found her. Honami still diligently kept up her housekeeping work at Kanade's place even after graduating highschool, and she had been teaching Kanade how to cook a little. Ena chatted her up everyday on social media, making time for hangouts to drag her outside of her house despite her own hellish schedule as an art university student. Ichika always sent her tickets whenever Leo/need had a liveshow, and An…
Well, just look at what she was doing right now.
Kanade would also like to argue that she could do better and owe up to the responsibility, should another life be entrusted to her — but she supposed that was something she just had to be in the situation to see. There was a reason she refused to keep even a plant to spruce up the big, empty house, despite how lonely it got sometimes — holing up in her house for days on end because she couldn't afford to go out when there was still music to compose and people to save—
“Don’t worry about it,” An patted her shoulder in a reassuring manner. “I’m sure it will be fine. While we’re looking for someone to adopt it, Kohane and I will do our best to make sure it’s taken care of!”
Kanade looked at the box of cookies in her hand. They were delicious — Kanade never knew strawberry flavor could be this good. This was the second time this month An had dropped by with a gift, the fourth time she had dropped by just to check how the composer was doing in general.
Her features softened. “Yeah, I’m sure you will.”
They both chuckled in good humor, and that was the end of that.
Kanade might have gone to bed that night wondering what fate might befall the cat. You know. Just for a bit.
———
Turned out she was worried over nothing.
The cat still hadn’t found a home. Nor did it seem to be in any haste to find one.
In fact, it seemed to have declared this whole neighborhood its lair. On any given day, it could be found lounging around just about any given location, within the area from the small intersection leading to Scramble Crossing to the 7-Eleven two streets over from Kanade’s house.
It had been caught lazing on the roof of Hanasato’s residence, heedless of Samo’s loud, fierce barking from below. It had been spotted nestling inside the bouncy spring-y ride at the playground (what were those things called anyway?), jumping away whenever someone approached. It had been seen chilling atop random cars parked by the curb, casting feline indifference towards the passersby who stopped to look or coo at it.
Rarely could it actually be seen near the box it had been dropped off in — a small carton box with the word ‘ADOPT ME!’ written in big bold letters — though according to An, it still returned there sometimes to nosh on the bits of fish Kohane set out for it.
“I have a feeling it doesn’t want to be adopted,” An said to Kanade one day, playing with the lilies Honami put in a vase on the dining table.
Kanade looked up and blinked. The cookies were chocolate-flavored today. “Why do you think so?”
“Because,” An huffed, “it just won’t let anyone approach it! Quite a few people have been curious since its appearance in our small little community, you know, but whenever someone tries to touch it, it just slinks away. I heard it turned down free food from someone who tried to lure it in once. Free food!” An threw up her hands. “What kind of stray cat turns down free food?”
“It didn’t turn down food from you though,” Kanade pointed out, puzzled.
“Jeez, that makes it sound like I’m the special chosen one or something.” An chuckled. “Maybe it’s the intention? Because we didn’t have any ulterior motive to feeding it everyday, or something like that.” She paused. “Now that makes the other person sound like a bad guy. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Kanade shook her head. “It’s okay. I know you don’t.”
She didn't know if that was normal behavior for a cat, but she supposed if that was what it wanted, there was no harm in letting it roam however it pleased. As far as An could tell, the cat seemed to be able to take care of itself just fine. The residents talked about it — curious, intrigued, and concerned in equal measures — but since the cat was dead set on not letting anyone lure it into their home, no one quite knew what to do other than keeping an eye out from afar.
They, at the same time, also knew there was a protocol and a place they were supposed to respond to in this kind of situation — but since the cat wasn’t going around stealing food and knocking over trash cans and generally causing trouble, there was no harm in letting it be, was there not?
It would not be for another week that An came knocking on her door excitedly telling her about being allowed by the cat to pet it for the first time. It would not be for another couple of days since then that Kanade finally saw this infamous cat after getting all of her information second-hand from An, on one of her rare ventures into the outside world to replenish her supply of cup noodles.
It perched atop the outer wall of Kohane and An’s humble abode, watching her curiously. It posed with great grace and confidence, unafraid of the human in front of it — its slender and nimble figure rested at ease, long elegant tail swinging lazily off the side of the wall. For a stray cat, it had the most beautiful and well-brushed fur coat Kanade had ever seen, dyed in a clean, pastel pink, reminiscent of a cotton candy. If Kanade had not known better, she never would have suspected that it was a stray cat — with the cute, red ribbon neatly tied into a bow on its tail, the collar hanging on its neck, the way it held itself unapologetically on Kanade’s neighbors’ property like it owed the place.
Kanade looked down. There was the box, gaudy-looking and battered. There was a bowl of milk placed inside it, in addition to the food bowl she had expected.
“An and Azusawa-san might as well have just adopted you, save for actually having you inside their apartment,” Kanade chuckled.
The cat, inexplicably enough, seemed to tense at the words. It lowered its head and squinted at her, and Kanade got this strangest feeling of being analyzed.
“You don’t have to worry,” she continued. “They won’t. Actually adopting you, I mean. I’m sure if they could, they would, though.”
She paused, then added with an apologetic smile. “Neither can I. I’m not… exactly fit to care for a cat.”
What a strange thing to say to a stray cat. Nevermind the fact that she was talking to a cat in the first place, she should be promising to find it a home or something, should she not?
The cat tilted its head at her, but said nothing. And why would it? It was a cat.
Kanade caught a view of the words on the faux-metal plaque on the cat’s collar. It said ‘Mizuki’.
“Well,” she reached inside her groceries bag, and procured a small pack of beef jerkies — which she had gotten upon Honami’s advice to broaden her diet — underneath all the bulky cups of instant noodles. She opened it and left a fistful in the food bowl, standing up and looking at the cat after she was done.
She gave it a smile. “Nice to meet you, Mizuki.”
She set off again back to her house. When she looked back before turning the corner, the cat was still watching her from atop the wall intently.
An informed her the next time she visited that the cat had eaten the jerkies up after she had left.
———
Human’s interest was an ever changing thing. A topic was only as hot as the number of twists and turns it had over a specific period of time, and once it stopped evolving, it was only a matter of time before interest waned.
Such was the situation with Mizuki. Nothing had changed about its housing status — or the lack thereof — since then. A lot of people did try to approach it, but when continuously given the cold shoulder, they stopped bothering.
Or perhaps that was too uncharitable a reading. A better one would be this: the people were concerned, but the cat wouldn't let anyone close, and everyone, understandably, had better things to do than worry about a stray cat all day.
Kanade was now convinced that Mizuki enjoyed being a stray cat. It wandered everywhere, prancing from roof to roof, burying itself in the most unexpected nooks and crannies. Some days, it was gone from the neighborhood altogether. Nobody knew where it went off to all day, but it seemed to be able to take care of itself just fine, so people stopped worrying about it.
Still, it had become a sort of good omen to catch a glimpse of the local rogue cat, especially when it was so unpredictable in its day-to-day pattern. Not a lot of people in this part owned pets, saved for Minori and Nene (if you could call a sentient robot a pet). The random sight of that peculiar pink furball doing peculiar cat things in random places thus became a small, uplifting, pink highlight of the day for whoever saw it — a minor, harmless addition to their day.
The tattered box had long been tossed in the trash. The bowls set outside An and Kohane’s apartment had also been withdrawn.
“I got scolded by the landlord the other day, when he came by to check on us,” An groaned. “The food is attracting more rats than cats, being left out there all day. But we don’t know when Mizuki will drop by either…”
“Maybe just in a specified timeframe then?” Kanade suggested.
“How do you communicate schedules to a stray cat that doesn’t stick to one?” An smiled wryly. “Besides, I haven’t seen Mizuki around since then. It’s a miracle to even catch a glimpse of it, to be honest. I heard people still saw it here and there, so I know that it hasn’t wandered off to another neighborhood, but it’s been a while since we last saw it on our porch. Or anywhere at all, to be honest. It’s the strangest thing — and here I thought it had gotten comfortable with us…”
A pause.
“Do you think it got tired or scared of us or something?” An asked sadly.
Kanade shook her head. “That doesn’t sound right. You guys have been nothing but kind to it. And it was okay with how you’ve been treating it up till now at first, wasn’t it?”
“I suppose that’s true. Then why…”
Neither of them had an answer to that.
An broke the silence first — as brief as it had been — with a chuckle. “Gosh, why are we psychoanalyzing a cat? For all we knew, it really could have just found something new and shiny to play with. Ooh, maybe it found a playmate?”
Kanade raised an eyebrow. “An, there’s no other cat in the area.”
“Who knows, maybe it has taken a fancy to Nenerobo.”
That earned a chuckle out of Kanade.
An looked out the balcony of Kanade’s house.
“Still,” she said, tone almost wistful, “a shame. I miss petting it whenever it would drop by our porch to hang with us.”
She perked up immediately after, because she was too young to be wistful — or so she would say — but her words stuck with Kanade.
It stuck, and resurfaced when Kanade saw Mizuki again, hanging around in an alley on the route from the hospital back to her house.
“You know,” Kanade spoke up. “An has been worried about you.”
Mizuki stopped fiddling with the cardboard box it had found and looked up towards Kanade in a way that indicated it was paying attention. Kanade continued.
“She really cares about you, you know? It’s just in her nature,” a smile inadvertently found its way to Kanade’s lips as she talked. “I’m not saying you owe her anything, but I hope you can forgive her if she ever accidentally comes off as too much sometimes.”
Mizuki’s tail swayed gently, soulless eyes staring blankly at her. Kanade was once again reminded of the fact that whatever she said would likely sail over the animal’s head completely.
Mizuki went back to playing around with its cardboard box after a moment, biting into one of its corners and starting to drag it deeper into the alley, away from Kanade. Its collar swung with the motion, catching flashes of light.
It clicked to Kanade.
“You poor thing,” she frowned. “You have been betrayed, haven’t you?”
Mizuki froze.
“I’m sorry,” Kanade’s frown deepened. She thought of Ena, of the strained relationship between her and her father that was never quite mended. “I know how hard it is to trust again after having your trust broken by someone who used to mean so much to you. I shouldn’t blame you for being wary of people again, after having been abandoned by your ex-owner.”
Mizuki dropped the box it was holding onto, and turned to regard her with wide, thoughtful eyes. There was something almost human in its surprised gaze — the way it seemed to swirl and waver with so many hidden thoughts and emotions that Kanade could not even begin to read; the way it seemed to react, as if understanding her words.
“But I promise you that An is different. She’d never abandon anyone. She’d always try her best to make you feel welcome.” Unconsciously, Kanade smiled, thinking of cookies and impromptu visits and live singing on the street. “At the very least, I’ll be glad if you can give her a chance. You don’t have to do anything much. I promise she’d just be glad to see you drop by every now and then.”
Maybe Kanade was crazy for thinking her words would reach this cat. Maybe she was crazy for seeking understanding where there might be none. But she stared, and stared, with all the sincerity she could muster, and the cat’s attentive gaze didn’t change, hanging onto her every word and digesting it.
If there existed fairytales out there, she hoped this was one.
A long moment passed. There was no movement from either of them. The cat made no answer to her unusual requests, nor was Kanade expecting one.
The composer exhaled. Well, she did all she could think of.
Wait, one more thing. “Oh, here,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out the pack of beef jerkies. Turned out she didn’t like it very much, but she kept it in her pocket just in cases like this. She grabbed another handful, then paused. Was she just supposed to leave it on the ground, or…
Mizuki pushed the box towards her, meowing.
“Oh, thank you,” Kanade said, despite herself. She dropped the jerkies into the box like an offering.
It took another second for the silliness of the interaction struck her. She giggled. “You’re quite a classy kitty, aren’t you, Mizuki?”
Mizuki mrowed and squinted its eyes, almost like it was huffing.
Kanade only giggled again.
Tick.
The first droplet struck the ground between them, with the quietest tingling sound. The second drop wouldn't come for an extended moment, in which Kanade just blinked owlishly, uncomprehending, until the ghost of something small and cold pricked her cheek, almost unrecognizable. Soon enough, though, the third droplet hit — its weight more pronounced on the back of her hand this time — and that was when Kanade realized.
It was raining.
"Ah, I have— Oh."
Mizuki was quick to scutter away, further into the alleyway — away from the street, away from her. It expertly used the trash can placed in front of the wall at the end of the alley to jump on top of the wall, and disappeared behind it before Kanade could even blink.
For a moment, Kanade just stood there, beside the abandoned cardboard box.
Then she took out a tissue, wrapped the jerkies in it, placed it down on the ground, and overturned the box on top of it.
———
It was another rainy day when Kanade saw Mizuki again.
It had been several days since their last encounter. An told her Mizuki had started dropping by again — still a bit randomly, but always at lunch time. She voiced her concern about her landlord catching the cat on the property some day to Kanade — since that was also when he liked to do inspections — but the frequency of his visits was few and far between enough that she could hold out hope that he wouldn't.
The sky had been overcast all day, but Kanade wouldn't notice it until she stepped out her front door and noticed a certain pink cat chilling under the overhang. They both startled — Mizuki looked like it was going to run away for a second, but in the end it seemed to decide not to, hesitantly putting its paw down. Kanade, for her part, stared at it for a moment longer, then looked up.
"Looks like it'll rain soon," she remarked, noting the dark heavy clouds hanging above them and the gloomy filter casting all over the surrounding buildings. Right on cue, thunder rumbled in the distance, and the trees started swaying.
She set her bag down. No shopping today, it seemed.
The atmospheric depression pressed down on Kanade as she guided her body into a sitting position on the step, feeling her bones creaking from the weight. The rain pittered down — one drop, a few drops, then quickly, a torrent. The cement a few inches away from the tip of Kanade's shoes hurriedly turned dark, dyed by the colorless rain. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the sound, the smell, the chilly fresh air.
She felt eyes on her. Kanade opened her eyes to Mizuki’s inquisitive gaze on the other end of the staircase’s width — noticing how it didn’t have a collar anymore.
“You look like you could use some company,” Kanade smiled, then it turned curious. “Or am I wrong?”
Mizuki meowed. Kanade was wondering what that meant when they settled back down, curling its tail around its body. She couldn’t help but smile again.
The downpour was really going at it now, hammering noisily against bricks and windows and leaves. Kanade didn’t mind it, not really — there was a certain melody to be found in it, even if it could be overwhelming at times, not muffled through a wall. Once she got used to it, there was a silence to be found in it, too — in the way the street outside her house emptied itself of people, the way all life and colors were washed away in a curtain of white. It could be isolating, if Kanade hadn’t already been used to isolation. She took the music of the rain and played with it in her mind, humming to herself as she threaded a spontaneous tune together.
Perhaps she should get back to work. But Kanade could not find the energy to, not really. She had already worked up the willpower to go out, and now that all that psyching herself up hadn’t managed to go anywhere, she found herself at a bit of a loss. The song she was working on was still in its muddy, infantile stage, unsure of where it was supposed to go. She had intended for this walk to the convenient store to be a chance for her to clear her mind, but...
Ena and she used to go on a walk at least once a week in an attempt to have at least some form of ‘exercise’ — even if it would often devolve into Ena dragging her to some trendy cafe after. It was their thing. The artist made walks so much easier to bear. She made going out fun.
But she was off to university now.
“Do you like rain?” Kanade absent-mindedly asked. Mizuki gave an itty bitty sneeze and shuddered. “I guess not. Who would like getting wet?” She chuckled, then paused, remembering how hard it was to pull Samo-chan away from an active sprinkler, even for someone of Minori’s strength. “Well, except Hanasato-san’s dog, I suppose.”
Mizuki didn’t reply. This is pointless, her mind said. Go back to work.
Her limbs felt heavy. The will to stand up evaded her. She stayed rooted to the spot. Her heart felt like it would eat itself out.
Kanade sighed. Useless. She was useless.
She shook her head, and directed her attention back towards the cat. It was watching her intently, expressionless.
“Since you’re stuck here for the time being, would you like a treat?” Kanade asked. Mizuki seemed to perk up just the tiniest bit at the word ‘treat’, tail swaying. The corner of Kanade’s lips quirked up at the sight, despite herself. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
She pulled herself up again, grunting as she did so — god, when was the last time she had left her house? In the kitchen, she found the jerkies and some milk Honami left her. She poured it out into a bowl — trying not to spill the milk all over the counter as she did so — and put the jerkies on a dish. It felt more like she was treating a human guest than a cat.
Somehow, she didn’t find the idea so weird.
The cat was still there, watching the door as Kanade returned. The composer breathed an inexplicable sigh of relief.
Mizuki sniffed at her offering first when she set it down, but it didn’t take long to dig in. Kanade watched, a smile unconsciously growing on her lips.
Well, maybe this was not such a waste of time.
“You know, I used to be afraid of storms,” Kanade spoke. Mizuki paused, looking up at her, as if listening. “When I was a kid, whenever there was a storm, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. But then I would run to my parents’ bedroom, and climb into bed with them. No matter how late it was, they would welcome me into their arms, and with them, I would be able to sleep again.”
Deeply, she breathed out. “But they aren’t here anymore. My mom died when I was young, and my dad was stuck in the hospital.” Because of me. “And I guess I… grew out of it. I have to. Who can I save if I flinch at a bit of rain?”
A deafening roar of thunder. Kanade did not flinch, but she shivered at the cold gusts of wind that blew through the overhang. Freezing water droplets landed on her cheek, but she stayed where she was.
“Am I weak? To crave comfort?” She whispered, more to herself than anything. “I used to be able to bear being alone in my room composing for days… Ena, Mochizuki-san, Hoshino-san, An… has being with them weakened me?”
A warmth suddenly nestled into her side. Kanade blinked, looking down. Mizuki was pressed up against her, its purring sending comfortable tingles up her body.
Kanade let out a small, even if a little weak smile. Her hand hovered, uncertainly, for a moment, before settling on the soft baby pink fur of the cat’s back, awkwardly patting it.
“Um, thanks, Mizuki.”
The cat chirped cheerfully. Somehow, Kanade could hear the reassurance in it. The stark contrast between the chilly weather and the small heat ball at her side was immediately present, almost too addicting to resist.
Kanade dared not crave more, however. She knew better than to disturb the delicate moment.
It wasn’t the same. It could never be the same as the warmth she had felt, being enveloped in her parents’ arms, unaware and unburdened. But this tiny fuzzy mass that had chosen to come to her on this rainy day, instead of anyone or anywhere else, should be enough.
The rain let up eventually, leaving behind clean sky and clean streets. With the muck that washed down the drain came a weight off Kanade’s chest, dissipating into the air like water particles.
Mizuki left as soon as the rain stopped as well. Kanade watched as it bounded away, mixed emotions in her heart, and the strangest feeling struck her as its figure disappeared around a corner.
She wished for them to come back.
———
A certain pink cat had been frequenting Kanade’s front door.
It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, no. It wasn’t everyday that it rained, but the cat didn’t only wait for it to rain to come either. Much like their behavior around the neighborhood, Mizuki seemed to follow their own whims, showing up at the most random time on Kanade’s porch — somehow always catching Kanade as she prepared to go out.
A friendship with a stray cat seems like the most fleeting thing. It comes and goes as it pleases. You can’t tell what it is thinking behind those inscrutable emotionless eyes — whether it is as curious about you as you are about it, or it is just here because it finds the spot a comfortable place to nap. You can’t tell what it is doing when it’s not in your vicinity — whether it is thriving, having a grand time wandering, dozing off in some safe cozy nook, or starving, fighting for its life, struggling to survive. You can’t tell when the last time it visits you will be.
But you can’t ask a stray cat for commitment, so Kanade wouldn’t. This arrangement suited her just fine — if there was anything that her friends had managed to teach her over the years, it was to appreciate good company.
Besides, she was just glad to see Mizuki well.
She started keeping a box of cat food in her house for whenever Mizuki visited, and set aside a bowl for it. If she stepped outside and saw a certain pink furball on her porch, she would go back in, bring them some food, and sit with them for a while until they got bored and wandered off.
Which often took a while. Kanade noticed how Mizuki never left right away after finishing their food — opting to lounge around for a bit, watching her, playing with their own tail, or grooming themself. They didn’t come up to snuggle with her again after that day, but Kanade didn’t mind. She was content to just watch them like this, entertained by their silly feline activities.
Kanade never had much experience with cats. Her family never had one, nor had they visited a relative that did — not that they had done that often, especially after her mom had fallen ill. Kanade didn’t remember holding a cat until Ena had taken her to a cat cafe and handed her one, gently guiding her on how to handle this peculiar furry domesticated animal that everyone seemed to love so much. Even so, they hadn’t gone to such places much before Ena had moved away for university — maybe once or twice, depending on what the brunette deemed necessary for her Picshare — so Kanade still couldn’t say she was really acquainted with this species’ way of life.
Hanging out with Mizuki, then, was a strange, new experience.
Honami noticed the cat food during her visit, and inquired about it. She was visibly overjoyed as Kanade told her about her endeavor with Mizuki, even getting a little teary-eyed.
“I’m so glad you’ve made a new friend, Yoisaki-san,” she said, smiling from ear to ear.
An also noticed and expressed something along the same line, in her own words. Something that started with “Fuck yeah” and ended with “my little blorbos”, whatever that meant. Kanade took it to mean something positive, though.
So perhaps Kanade looked forward to stepping outside her door more. So perhaps she caught herself looking out the window of her room more, wondering what a certain stray cat was doing. So perhaps she found herself on the cat toy section of a pet shop’s website.
What a strange fascination.
At the same time, it made sense to Kanade. Humans’ capacity for love extends far beyond the scope of their own kind. It was one of those things that was so beautiful about them — the happiness they found in return to spreading happiness to others, even those of a different species. In any case, she was glad to have discovered it within herself — it made her feel a little more
redeemable
human.
Maybe Kanade still couldn’t fully understand cats or how they think. But at the same time, maybe she was starting to understand why millions of people enjoy watching felines of all shapes and sizes roll around on their bellies.
So for a while, she was content with this.
And then it happened.
It had been a muggy few days. The rain started, then stopped, then started again with barely a minute to spare. Kanade felt like she might have started to forget what the sun looked like — even more so than usual, that was. The cold, the dampness seeped into every crack it could find, leaving her with a perpetual feeling of being wet.
She hoped Mizuki had managed to find a safe shelter.
They said the rain set a sad tone. Kanade was inclined to agree — there was a certain melancholy to it. Maybe it was in the way it had rained on her mother’s funeral, as if the sky itself had been crying. Maybe it was in the loneliness that came with the rain, as plans were canceled and spirits were dampened. It hardly mattered to her in that regard — as she would, and should be in her room composing no matter the weather — but Kanade was certain that no one would knock on her door that day.
The doorbell, then, came as a surprise.
Kanade blinked, dumbfounded for a moment, unsure of what she had just heard. Her hands came up and took off her headset, her mind drunkenly shaking off the musical stupor she had been in for the past— how many hours had it been? She stared at the door of her bedroom, uncertain, waiting for it to ring again.
Ding dong!
Oh, so she hadn’t misheard. Who could it be?
Kanade ran a mental check as she stood up and strolled out of her room. An? No, she had a live today. Ena? Kanade had just said good night to her via voice chat five hours ago. Honami? She would normally call before she came, and they were not scheduled today. Ichika?—
There were suddenly rushing footsteps, then some unidentifiable noises that sounded very concerning. A muffled thumping sound, then a “Gotcha!”, mixed with a panicked cat yelp.
Kanade’s eyes widened, and she quickened her pace.
She froze at the sight that greeted her at the door, breathing heavily. A stunned person in uniform stared back at her, just as wide-eyed. In their hands was a large net — the type often used to catch stray animals — and at the bottom of that net was—
“Mizuki!” Kanade couldn’t help but call out.
The person blinked. “Ah, apology for the disturbance, ma'am,” they said, tipping their hat. “Is this your cat?”
It took another second for Kanade to snap out of it, gaze heavy with confusion and anxiety as she regarded the person in front of her. “Ah… no? But—”
The person breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god, I was afraid I might have caught the wrong one there.” Past their shoulders, Kanade could see another person in the same uniform nod at her, standing a few feet away with a cage. “We received complaints about a stray cat prowling in the area and disturbing the neighborhood, so we came to investigate, and found this one here.” They held up the net, gesturing to the struggling pink cat. “Do you recognize it?”
“Yes…” Kanade hesitantly said, worriedly watching Mizuki, who had stopped thrashing around and instead opted to curl up as much as they could in their entrapment, hiding their face away. Her eyes flicked to the animal control person again, restless. “But I don’t think they’ve been disturbing anyone. They're a very well-behaved cat, as I'm sure many people around here can attest to—"
"Ah, but ma'am, there are more danger to a stray cat than just ruining things and scratching people. It may carry and spread diseases, for example." They calmly explained, then reassured her. "Don't worry, we will just bring it back and put it up for adoption. It's a really cute cat, and if it's as well-behaved as you said, I'm sure it'll be picked up in no time—"
"What will happen if it isn't?" Kanade quietly asked.
The person paused, and shared an uncomfortable look with their colleague. Mizuki laid turned away from her, unmoving, as if resigned.
Eventually, the animal control person spoke. "You don't need to worry about that. We have protocols for every situation, and we’ll make sure that the best outcomes are achieved for both the community and the cat. Now, if you'll excuse me—"
"I'll do it."
The person halted again, turning to blink at her. "I'm sorry?"
"I'll do it," Kanade repeated. "I'll adopt them."
The two other humans were stunned silent. Mizuki's eyes, which had been averting hers, were also turned to her now, expression seemingly mirroring theirs.
Kanade held her gaze steady, brows furrowed with determination.
The sky continued to rain.
———
The exhaustion only really sunk in once Kanade was safely inside her home, leaving the rain behind her closed door. She limped to the table and all but plopped down on the chair, sighing deeply.
The staff at the shelter had been nice enough — she had even been offered to be driven there in the first place — but that was still the most social interactions Kanade had had in a while. She might not go out until next week.
The cat carrier was set on the table. Kanade opened the latch. Tentatively, a pink, furry head poked out, glancing at the surroundings.
“Um, welcome to my house, I guess,” Kanade smiled tiredly but warmly. She gestured around. “Make yourself at home. It’s just me in here most of the time, so it’s pretty quiet. I don’t know if you can find a lot of exciting things to do, but I don’t really know what cats do in their free time either, so…”
Hesitantly, Mizuki stepped out of the carrier. They continued to survey the scene, sniffing curiously(cautiously?) at everything. Kanade watched them hobble around the table’s surface, before stopping their little exploration at the edge of the table and sat down, looking at her from a distance with their head tilted to the side.
“Oh, do you want to get down? I can help,” Kanade said, already standing up. Mizuki meowed as she went around the table to them, hovering at the side. Um, how do you handle a cat again? Kanade tried to remember what Ena had taught her way back then. You hook both of your palms under their bellies, and gently lift…
Mizuki’s legs stretched out as Kanade tried to lift them off the table. And stretched. And stretched. Oh my, cats really were as long as all the memes she saw on the internet said.
The cat was lighter than she had imagined. Much too light, in fact. Kanade didn't have a good frame of reference when it came to how heavy cats should be, but she could still tell that Mizuki's frame was a little too thin, that their bones were a little too pronounced under all that fur.
They no longer looked like it now, but Kanade remembered how they had been when they had first arrived at the shelter earlier, as the composer had anxiously watched the staff take care of the cat. The normally pristine, baby pink coat of fur, now matted with rain and sticking to their skin, revealing the ribcage underneath. That graceful, confident gait now lacking, hindered by hidden injuries.
Her eyes, on cue, caught on the bandage wrapped around one of their legs, and somewhere, she felt a pang in her chest.
"You should have come either here or to An's place if you're either hungry or hurt, you know?" She chided light-heartedly as she successfully maneuvered to safely deposit the cat on the floor, fully unintended for them to understand. It was the strangest thing, but Mizuki seemed to avert their eyes afterwards, as if guiltily.
When had they sustained this injury, anyway? Kanade hadn't seen them in a while — and according to An, she hadn't either. She blamed the rain. Perhaps the wound had made it difficult for them to find food, on top of the downpour outside. How long had they been suffering?
Kanade remembered what the vet at the shelter had said when they had patched the pink cat up, and shuddered.
It could have been worse, if the wound had been left untreated longer.
"I wish you knew that you could rely on us," Kanade sighed as she looked at Mizuki. She thought she had built enough trust from them. Of course she hadn't. They were a stray cat. A free spirit. What was she thinking?
Mizuki didn’t wander away to continue exploring the house, instead remaining in place, staring off, exploring the house with their eyes. Curious, but wary. They looked right, looked left, looked up, looked down. Anywhere but her.
Were they anxious in a new place?
If that was the case…
“I have to be honest,” Kanade sighed. Carefully, she crouched down, reducing the distance between their eye levels as she tried to look directly into their eyes. “I’m not… very experienced with taking care of pets. Actually, I haven’t the faintest idea how to. I’ve never had a pet, or even interacted with one until my friend dragged me to a cat cafe. I’m also just not good at taking care of someone or something’s physical wellbeing, in general. I can barely take care of myself, and the last time I tried to take care of someone else…”
Microwaved instant meals. Being too naive and uncertain to speak up as her father forewent dinner and shut himself in his room more and more. Not noticing the signs until it was too late.
“But I’ll try my best,” Kanade said, trying to convey all the sincerity she could. “I’ll do my best to learn, and I’ll do my best to take care of you. I want to— I want you to have someone you can rely on this time. I— I—”
I want to save you.
“I won't fail you.”
Such certainty for someone who had just admitted to having little to no experience about this. But even if she had any doubt about it, Kanade couldn't let herself entertain it now. She wouldn't. Mizuki depended on her now, and they deserved better than a half-hearted owner who dipped out when things got too hard.
There might not be any point to saying all this out loud, but Mizuki was, and had always been an attentive listener. It felt easy to speak to them, even if Kanade didn’t know how much of it got through to them. Or maybe that was the point. Maybe she just needed someone to talk to who wouldn’t judge. Maybe she just needed to get it out. Maybe she just needed someone whose brows wouldn’t furrow in concern and try to tell her she needed to eat three meals and sleep eight hours a day.
Just like right now, as Mizuki stared at her, as if trying to work her out. Kanade couldn’t see the working of the machinations of their feline brain — if they were even working at all — behind their emotionless feline eyes, but she felt assured in the knowledge that they had at least listened.
She hoped they understood.
(And maybe they did. Mizuki was a smart cat.)
The silence stretched on. Mizuki almost seemed inquisitive in their feline features. Kanade couldn’t imagine herself to be so interesting for a cat to look at. Were they… thinking?
Suddenly, they moved again.
They breached the small gap between them, coming to stand directly in front of her. Then they stopped, stared, sniffed at her hands — which were clasped over her knees — and—
“O-Oh!” Kanade said in surprise, jolting a little as she suddenly felt something tiny and wet and rough briefly pressed against the tip of her finger. She looked down, meeting Mizuki's innocent gaze, the spot where the sensation had originated from tingling slightly.
"Did you just lick me?"
Mizuki meowed happily — like they were proud of it.
“Does— does that mean something?” Kanade voiced her confusion, even if she was not sure Mizuki would provide her with an answer. The cat let out what sounded to her like another merry, affirming meow. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she hesitantly smiled, raising her other hand to softly pat their head.
Mizuki tensed for a split second. She immediately worried, but it quickly dissolved as they relaxed, eyes closing and what Kanade could only describe as a pleased smile spread across their snout.
If Kanade hadn’t made up her resolve before, she had now.
She was going to be the owner that Mizuki deserved.
———
But was she?
Kanade would like to think that she was doing her best. That was all she, an inexperienced person in every way, could do, in all honesty.
The first thing she did after returning was calling Honami and asking for her help. One concerned phone call later, Honami showed up at her door with all the necessary things Kanade needed to start taking care of a cat.
Kanade couldn't thank her enough, even if Honami kept waving it away. Her former helper had no reason to — since she was no longer on Kanade’s payroll — but she did it anyway. It didn’t necessarily come as a surprise to Kanade — she had long learnt of Honami’s incredible kindness as something she could never take for granted. She was one of the few people that Kanade had learnt to feel less guilty about asking for help from.
To Kanade's relief, however, Honami let her pay for the stuff at least.
So now Kanade was armed with the appropriate food, litter box, toys and Honami’s detailed written notes that she stuck on the fridge with an apple-pie-shaped magnet. She got a whole cat tree so Mizuki wouldn’t be bored while Kanade busied herself in her room. She also had alarms set on her phone so she wouldn’t forget to feed them. She was, at the very least, marginally more prepared than she had been when she had first impulsively decided to adopt a cat.
It still didn’t feel like enough, sometimes.
Taking care of Mizuki was somehow very fuss-free. Aside from getting up to fetch the box of kibbles and refill their water bowl when the alarms rang, she honestly didn’t have to do anything else. Mizuki was also apparently potty-trained, so the litter box found little use. They seemed happy enough whenever they saw her — meowing cheerfully in greetings — but they hardly bothered her when she was working at all.
The first few days consisted of Kanade hovering anxiously around, waiting to see if she needed to do something, not quite able to focus fully on her work, but nothing seemed to arise that needed her attention. Mizuki wandered around, curiously exploring their new home, but never knocked anything over or made a mess. Kanade had to return to work eventually, and during that time, nothing happened.
They settled into a rhythm. Kanade would come out to feed Mizuki when it was time, taking the chance to see if there was anything else she needed to do — but there never was. Mizuki would do whatever they did and leave Kanade alone. She almost forgot she had a cat sometimes, until an alarm rang and reminded her of her duty as an owner.
It was strange, but Kanade felt even further away from Mizuki than before, more so than when they were still strangers on the street — when Mizuki was away for most of the time but always came to her of their own volition. Maybe they had only been after the free food, but Kanade refused to believe that. She had seen how affectionate they could be. Cats, too, seeked comfort and avoided discomfort. Her presence must have been comfortable enough for them to keep coming back, at least?
She wanted to do more. She wanted to get closer. She couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something. Providing the cat with food and shelter and material entertainment was, for sure, sufficient for most, but hardly felt like all she had to do to be a good owner.
Kanade thought back to all the cat posts she saw online — the pictures of cats playing with their humans and videos of feline shenanigans with their owners that had once driven Ena crazy with how effortlessly they garnered likes. The companionship. The bond.
Would Mizuki desire something like that with her?
They were, in the end, also a living being — if she were to think of it like taking care of a small child, she needed to—
Not now, Kanade. I’m busy.
Her heart twisted inside itself.
That night, after she had filled Mizuki’s bowl with the instructed amount of kibbles written on the notes, Kanade lingered. She watched as the cat leisurely, but readily dug into their meal. She stayed until they finished and looked up, shooting her a quizzical look as they saw her intent stare.
Kanade held up a wand with a feather attached at the head.
Mizuki’s eyes widened comically. They bolted up straight, eyes zeroed in on the feather as it slowly swayed from side to side.
Interesting. What if she did this? Kanade flicked her wrist lightly, letting the feather flutter.
The cat shot forward, but halted jerkily. They stayed and eyed the moving feather at a distance, though their swaying tail and the curious, investigating movements of their head betrayed their agitation.
Kanade did it for them, closing the distance and poking them in the forehead with the feather.
Mizuki's head recoiled, but they immediately latched onto it. They swatted at the feather repeatedly, paused, switched paws, repeated. Kanade felt the tug on the wand from how fiercely they were attacking it with their claws — especially when they decided to grab it with both front paws at one point, and started to gnaw on it. The wand almost slipped from her loose grasp then, and Kanade startled, jerking it back and out of the cat’s clutch.
Mizuki’s head whipped to her, eyes flashing.
Kanade’s eyes widened.
Uh oh.
Mizuki pounced.
…
Well, that was one way to get some exercise.
Kanade lied on the floor of her living room, exhausted. From her side, the sound of the wand being furiously batted around on the wooden surface of the floor reverberated into her ears, indicating that Mizuki was still continuing their assault against it after she had tired herself out trying to make a game of Catch out of it for them.
At least they seemed to be having fun. They sure looked like they had a lot of pent up energy. Kanade closed her eyes and gently exhaled, listening to their playing, the sound of the plastic toy scraping against the wooden floor.
Ti ti, ti so.
Hm, maybe she should install a cat door. She couldn’t possibly hope to keep them inside all day — they had always seemed like such an outdoor cat…
The noises stopped.
Kanade cracked her eyes open and slightly tilted her head to the side. Mizuki was trotting towards her from across the floor of the living room. Their soft pink paws made no noise on the wooden surface, yet Kanade heard it — a quiet, vibrating noise in her ears, growing louder as they approached. She realized they were purring, quietly, as they came to a stop and lied down beside her head, staring at her with wide, curious magenta eyes from within arm's reach.
She really wanted to pet them.
Mizuki didn’t flinch or shy away when Kanade’s hand slowly, carefully reached up to settle on their head. Her fingers ran up their forehead and down the back of their neck, where their fur was thick. It was… really soft. And warm. The purring underneath her palm only made the sensation ever more comforting.
She could see herself getting addicted to this.
Kanade let her hand stay there for a moment, fingers absent-mindedly running through their fur. Mizuki didn’t seem to have any protest. Their eyes lowered, like they were getting sleepy, and their purring only ever seemed to be getting steadily louder. They let out a pleased meow as she gave them a few gentle, experimental scratches behind their ears, closing their eyes, looking content as she did.
It struck her then, why so many people would lay down their life for their cats. The hyperbolic way with which they talked about and regarded their feline companion, as if they were one of their own. The adoration, the sense of fulfillment in seeing their pet happy and content and well cared for. The ecstasy of earning the affection of these pure and innocent creatures back.
Their sleepiness was infectious. Looking at them, she was getting drowsy too. When was the last time she had slept? She didn't remember — she never does. The floor felt so much more comfortable than the desk.
Maybe a nap wouldn't be so bad…
Kanade let her eyes drift close, and stayed.
———
That was how she woke up to an extremely concerned Ena shaking her awake from the floor.
She felt heavy. But not the kind of bone-deep heaviness that she had come to associate with exhaustion, the kind that forcefully stripped her of her senses and dragged her forehead down to meet the table. This heaviness was immobilizing, but not in an unpleasant way. It was warm and grounding, concentrating on and enveloping her ribcage.
She looked down, and saw Mizuki curled up on her chest — their small warmth spreading into her body, enough to fight the chill in the room.
…She felt bad about waking them, but she literally, physically couldn’t move.
A few minutes later saw Kanade hunched over her finished plate of toasts with eggs and bacon, nursing a cup of coffee, with a blanket draped over her shoulders (“You could have gotten a cold sleeping on the floor like that!”). Ena had insisted that she had a proper breakfast — Kanade doubted she had planned on taking ‘no’ as an answer as she had pulled out a literal bag of bacon from her bag. The brunette in question was currently busy peering under the sofa in the living room, trying to get Mizuki to come out.
“Hey, kitty kitty~,” Kanade heard. She chuckled quietly to herself, sipping on the hot beverage. It was just instant coffee, but she felt so warm for some reason.
Ena rejoined her a few minutes later, kittyless, sighing in resignation.
“Give them some time,” Kanade told her, smiling sympathetically. She knew how much Ena had looked forward to meeting her new cat when she had told her over DM. “They are a little skittish around new people.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Ena said with a rueful smile. "They were a stray, after all." It lightened up fast as she turned her attention to Kanade, regaining her peppiness. “Anyway, how have you been?”
She and Kanade caught up. Things that had happened since they had last chatted, things that simply couldn’t be told via messages. Kanade had missed this — missed hearing Ena's voice unfiltered through the static of digital transmission, missed seeing her smile breathe instead of frozen in the selfies she sent, missed having her physical presence take up residence in the chair opposite of Kanade, their knuckles resting a mere few inches away from each other on the table.
“Jeez, Kanade, you’ve gotta have more sleep,” Ena gently chided as the conversation steered to Kanade’s sleeping schedule, somehow. Her hand hovered slightly above the table, as if she wanted to reach out and wipe away the dark bags under Kanade’s eyes, but couldn’t quite make up her mind to. She dropped it in the end.
Kanade smiled, half sheepishly, half reassuringly at her. “Aha, it’s just that I’ve been a little anxious since adopting Mizuki. I've never done this before, so I'm not sure what I should pay attention to and how much…"
Ena shook her head and sighed, fondly exasperated. "Of course you would be. You always worry about others too much, and never enough about yourself…"
Kanade wanted to defend herself — by saying that this was not technically it, that she had lost sleep because worrying over Mizuki had cost her productivity that she had had to make up for — but she felt like that wouldn't help her case any, so she just let out an embarrassed noise and hung her head.
"They used to be a stray cat. They'll be fine without you looking over them all the time, Kanade," Ena smiled reassuringly. "Relax, and get yourself a good night sleep. Please?"
The sincerity in Ena's tone made it hard to say no. Kanade smiled back, small and shy. "Okay, I'll try."
And to Ena, that was good enough for the moment.
Mizuki kept their distance for the entire duration of Ena's visit — though Kanade saw them peek out from under the sofa after a while and listen in. When Ena left, they also watched from afar, unusually silent.
Kanade intended to spend the rest of the day as per her usual routine — work, feed cat, work, feed cat, eat when her body starts to protest, pass out. She would make an effort to go to sleep at a slightly more reasonable time today — just because Ena had asked of her — but she couldn't be sure she would stick to it.
The first sign that today was anything but usual came in the form of Mizuki trying to keep her after feeding them. Kanade had opted to remain with them and give them pets as they ate, instead of going back to work right away. When they finished and the composer started to stand up though, Mizuki suddenly meowed, catching Kanade's attention.
"Hm, what's wrong?" The pink cat meowed again, and started pawing at her hand. Confused, Kanade held her palm out.
Mizuki deposited a kibble into her palm.
"Eh? Mizuki, that was nice of you to offer, but I can't eat this…"
Mizuki shook their head — cats shake their heads? — and meowed.
Oh, the woe of language barrier.
At Kanade's continued confusion, Mizuki trotted closer. They snaked in between her legs — which were still crouched — and butted their head against her tummy.
As if on cue, her stomach growled.
Oh. Oh. Come to think of it, it had been… half a day since she last ate, hadn’t it?
Kanade couldn't help but giggle, endeared.
"Ah, that's what you mean. Okay, I'll go get something to eat. Thanks, Mizuki."
The cat meowed cheerfully, satisfied. It was so cute that Kanade reached out and patted them again.
It didn't stop at that. Later that night, when Kanade was in her room composing, something unusual happened again.
There was scratching at her door.
Kanade startled, jerking towards the door with wide eyes. What was that? Was it her humidifier again? Wait, no, it was in the other corner. Oh god, it couldn't be a ghost, could it—
There came a muffled meow, and then some more scratching. Kanade blinked, and relaxed.
Oh, it was just her silly cat.
She stood up — oof, her tense muscles. How long had she been sitting? — and went to open the door. Mizuki trotted in as expected, looking up and meowing at her as they did.
"Mizuki, what's up?" Kanade gently asked, as she crouched down and gave them a few scratches behind their ears. Mizuki leaned into it for a bit, purring — but then straightened up, and walked past her. Kanade watched them curiously as they jumped onto her bed and plopped down, meowing expectantly at her.
"You want me…to join you?" Mizuki meowed in ways of affirmation, tail swaying. "Well, I suppose for a bit is fine."
So Kanade sat down beside the cat and petted them for a bit. She was learning more about where they liked to be touched — ears always seemed to be a good place, but chin worked too. They seemed partial to back pats, and kept staring whenever her hand wandered near their butt. Kanade wondered if they didn't like people touching their ribbon.
(Wait, who tied the ribbon for them?)
After what seemed like a good amount of time, Kanade made to stand up.
"Okay, Mizuki, I need to get back to work— Mizuki?"
Mizuki let out a long, loud whine. They bit onto her sleeve and started tugging.
Kanade sighed. "Mizuki, I'd love to stay, but I really need to get going. It's 3AM, and I still have—"
"Relax, and get yourself a good night sleep. Please?"
Kanade blinked.
Oh, she did promise Ena that, didn't she?
She still had so much work to do, though. People were in need of saving everyday, and her output was nowhere near as fast as she'd like. Sometimes, she bemoaned her lack of a partner, who could help speed up the process — but the last thing she wanted to do was to involve someone else in the curse she had brought down on herself. Ena was the closest thing to a partner she'd ever had — but she had only made cover arts for her music video, and even she had left, in the end—
Mizuki looked up at her.
Oh, what were they doing with their eyes?
…And why was it so cute?
Their eyes were big and round, black pupils all blown out, twinkling in the blue electrical light of the computer. They were gazing up at her with the saddest look Kanade had ever seen them make — mouth tugged down, eyebrows(?) furrowed together, ears flattened, whiskers quivering. It was so sad, so pleading, that Kanade felt her resolve waver, the temptation to be near her computer again dwindling.
Was this the powerful sad "puppy" eyes that everyone talked about?
It reminded Kanade of the look An gave Kohane when her partner tried to talk her out of sending Akito a glitter bomb. It reminded her of Ena — specifically, the look she would have when she used to ask her to take better care of herself.
Which she had promised to.
Kanade swallowed. Just one more phrase…
“Ah—”
Mizuki took advantage of her hesitation to climb into her lap before she could protest. Kanade couldn’t stand up without disturbing them. They rubbed their head against the front of her jersey — the power of their rumbling purrs were transmitted through the fabric in full force.
"Alright, fine," Kanade chuckled. Her heart warmed, just the tiniest bit. "I'll sleep."
Mizuki let out the merriest, most victorious chirp. The sound of it made Kanade feel like she had made the right choice.
She wouldn't mind hearing it more.
The cat only jumped off when Kanade moved to grab the cover instead of trying to leave the bed. Their eyes followed Kanade intently as she lifted the cover and slid under it, as if making sure she settled down properly. Even after she had tucked herself in, their gaze was locked onto her — pink, shining pinpricks of light watching over her from the edge of the bed like a watchful guardian.
Were they gonna wait till she was asleep? How strange. And cute.
Kanade lifted the cover.
"Would you like to join me?"
Even in the dimming light from the computer’s screen, Mizuki's glowing eyes made it easy to spot when they widened. Their paw lifted forward, and then froze, as if wanting to approach, but hesitating. Even so, they didn't run away — which Kanade took as a good sign.
“It’s warm,” she offered.
Pink feline eyes seemed to study her for a long time. Kanade extended her arm patiently, even as it started to tire.
Finally, finally, Mizuki stepped forward and slid under her arm. Kanade smiled as she dropped the cover over them both, feeling them curl up beside her. One hand settled gently on their back, running along their spine.
She longed to know all the reasons why Mizuki would act like they did. Why they seemed to understand her words so explicitly. Why they had such moments of uncannily human expression and reactions. What had driven them to have such distrust in humans, and how she could help dissolve it.
But those were all matters for another day.
Kanade looked down at the ball of fur in her arm.
What if—
Mizuki started attacking the zipper of her jersey.
Nevermind, there was no way.
———
Kanade was starting to understand why people liked sharing videos and pictures of their pets so much.
Not for the attention, no — though if cat videos could save people, she might consider it.
It was a gesture of love itself — to hold such love for something that one got an urge to show the world just how wonderful it was.
Few of her neighbors understood what Mizuki truly was like. To them, they were a 'problem' cat. Even if the pink feline never went around causing mayhem, the fact that they refused to get close to anyone didn't quite sit well with people.
When Kanade had officially adopted Mizuki, her neighbors congratulated her on managing to 'tame' the 'broken', 'unsociable' wild cat. They asked her how she had managed to accomplish the seemingly impossible task of winning the pink cat's trust. They said she was so kind and patient for taking them in.
Kanade disagreed.
Mizuki wasn't 'broken'. They were just as loving as any other cat could be. They tended to her needs just as much as she did theirs — reminding her to eat, reminding her to drink, trying to get her to sleep healthier (with varying degrees of success, but they tried). They showed their affection by ways of cuddles, of cheerful yowls, of playfully sitting on her keyboard until she acquiesced and finally went to grab a cup of water.
Mizuki wasn’t ‘unsociable’. Kanade wondered if people knew how expressive a cat they were. Every day they greeted her with a good morning chirp, meowed excitedly when it was meal time, whined pitifully at her when they wanted pets and purred loudly when she did grant them that, and gave her a scolding hiss when she stayed up past 1AM. It was such a far cry from the image of the aloof, unapproachable, independent stray cat they had around the neighborhood — that Kanade was sure if everyone just observed how they acted around people they trusted, around her, that image would disappear in an instant.
And Kanade didn’t cause any of that. That was all Mizuki — how they had been all along.
Some days, it didn’t feel like she was saving them at all. It felt like they were saving her insteas — giving her warmth, affection, validation; filling the once-dead house with the sound of life. Taking care of her, guiding her by the hand — or the sleeve of her shirt — like she was a child, like she was the one depending on them for survival and protection instead of the other way around. Somehow always knowing when she needed company, when the silence of the house, the gaping emptiness got too much to bear that it was hard to breathe.
(She thought of that day under the overhang outside her front porch, of the small but potent warmth that had soothed her soul and protected her from the weather more than any winter coat could.)
———
But there was only so much a cat could do.
Kanade was no stranger to illnesses. She was reminded of it every time she visited her father, passing by other patients in the hallway. She was reminded of it every time she looked to the picture of her mother, of the three of them smiling on the shelf. She was, specifically, reminded of her own frailness when coughs started to force its way out of her body, when mucus clogged her nose and the bars on her computer screen started to blur together into an incoherent mess.
Somewhere, she heard Mizuki’s alarmed meow. She regretted getting into the habit of leaving her door open sometimes — it was for them to trot in whenever they pleased, but it also meant that they were at risk of stumbling into her like this and catching whatever she had.
Do cats catch colds from humans? Kanade didn’t want to find out.
“Mizuki, go away,” Kanade weakly said, not looking up from her position — bent over the desk with her head in her hands. Clearly, Mizuki didn’t heed her command, for the next moment she felt a tug on her sleeve. Her eyes widened.
“No, Mizuki, you might get sick. Just stay away.” She said as forcefully as she could, peeking out from behind her palms and using one hand to gently push them away. Mizuki easily dodged it and meowed at her, a sad sound to match the expression on their face.
Was that concern she could see in their eyes? No, she might be seeing things.
That seemed like the correct answer. Kanade wanted to get back to work, but she could hardly tell one note from another on her music sheet. It took her tremendous effort to even lift her hand and find the mouse, even if only to save her progress.
Some medicine would be a good idea, perhaps. And then she could get back to—
Scarcely had she stood up when a dizzying spell hit her and caused her to tumble to the ground. Faintly, she heard a panicked yelp, then the scampering of claws against the floor. Kanade could hardly tell one pain from another — her body had been aching all day, and the impact barely made a difference to the numbness that had overtaken it.
She felt paws on her sleeve again. “‘tis fine, Mizuki,” she mustered up the strength to whisper. “There’s nothing you can do anyway. I’ll go rest, then I’ll feel better. Don’t worry, baby.”
With her remaining strength, she managed to drag herself to the bed. Flopping down on it, she immediately knew that she could never get up again. The medicine was in the bathroom — there was no way she could make it there in her current condition. Her body was sweating all over, yet she couldn’t lift herself or even her arms off the bed to begin to take her jersey off. Her forehead burnt in her too cold palm.
It was all Kanade could do to curl up into a fetal position. She couldn’t find a comfortable position to lie in. She had hair in her mouth. Her head throbbed, heart pounding so hard it was all she could hear. Her body ached. She couldn’t breathe. She feared she might choke in her own fluid if she passed out.
Not for the first time, Yoisaki Kanade wondered if this was how she would die.
Her eyes didn’t have the strength to stay open anymore.
…
Well, if she died, at least Mizuki would get a better owner.
———
Kanade awoke to Honami’s gentle brown eyes and a cool towel on her forehead.
Her body still felt heavy, but a lot less so. Warm, but no longer sweaty. She could open her eyes all the way, make out the outline of Honami’s concerned pupils, distinguish the individual strands of hair sticking out of her side ponytail. When she breathed, it no longer felt like a rock pressing down on her lungs.
Huh, did she manage to remove her jersey before passing out?
“Yoisaki-san?” Honami sat up with a startle from beside her bed as Kanade groaned.
“Mochizuki-san,” Kanade breathed, looking over at her ex-housekeeper, now-friend. Maybe Honami helped remove her jersey and dry her sweat. It was the only explanation.
Ah, after all this time, she was still relying on her kindness.
“How did you know to come here?”
“I got a call,” Honami explained. “It was from your phone. When I answered it, I only heard labored breathing.” She frowned. “You sounded like you were in pain, Yoisaki-san. I called out to you, but you didn’t hear, so I came as soon as I could.”
“Oh?” Kanade said, puzzled. “I suppose I might have accidentally dialed the phone while rolling around. Sorry for causing you unneeded trouble.”
“No, it was no trouble at all! If anything, I’m glad I came, Yoisaki-san,” Honami reassured her with a smile. “I would hate to leave you alone without anyone to tend to you while you’re sick.” She looked away for a moment, smile stretched tight. “I can’t do it again.”
Kanade nodded, feeling a gentle smile coming to her lips of its own accord. “I understand. Thank you, Mochizuki-san. I’m in your care today, again.”
Honami beamed back at her with an expression of genuine relief, and Kanade felt blessed. Blessed that she had so many people who cared about her in her life, even if she didn’t feel deserving of it. Even through her worst days, her years of being difficult and pushing people’s help away, they stuck with her and reached out. The least she could do, as she had learnt, was to acknowledge and appreciate it, for they were not going anyway anytime soon.
“Oh, you must be thirsty!” Honami handed her a glass of water. “Here, Yoisaki-san, drink up. Have you taken cold medicine?”
“Ah, no, I didn’t manage to before I passed out,” Kanade shook her head, wincing a little at the way it throbbed lightly at the motion.
“And you still got so much better after sleeping?” Honami appeared surprised. “Maybe your immune system is better than I thought. I feared the worst, but when I came, the fever wasn’t as bad as I thought, and you were sleeping rather peacefully. I suppose since you still had the presence of mind to put a cool towel on your forehead before going to sleep, the cold wasn’t so dire, after all.”
Kanade blinked. “I didn’t… put on the towel. I barely had the energy to drag myself to bed before I passed out.”
It was Honami’s turn to blink as well. “You didn’t? Then who did?”
“I— don’t know.”
Was it Mizuki? Would a cat be able to do that? Would a cat even know what to do in the first place?
Oh god, was it a ghost—
“G—Ghosts aren’t real, Yoisaki-san!” Honami quickly derailed that train of thought as soon as she saw Kanade pale. “M—Maybe you just did and didn’t remember it! Fevers mess with memories sometimes!”
“Ah,” Kanade relaxed. “You’re right. Thanks, Mochizuki-san.”
Honami sighed in relief. “You’re welcome. Now, please drink this. I brought some medicine with me.”
She helped Kanade into a sitting position. Kanade let her, even though she felt well enough to do it herself. It felt nice to be cared for sometimes.
“Ah,” Kanade straightened up, suddenly remembering something. “Has Mizuki been fed?”
“Don’t worry, I fed them as soon as I made sure you were okay, Yoisaki-san,” Honami smiled. Kanade settled down, relieved.
“Ah, thank goodness.”
A giggle from Honami caused her to look up again.
“Mochizuki-san?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Honami looked at her with a fond smile. “I’m just… You’ve changed, Yoisaki-san.”
“I have?”
“Mhm,” Honami nodded, still smiling. “Remember when I suggested you start keeping an easy-to-care-for plant like cactus, and you refused?”
“Ah, I remember,” Kanade smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure if I could do it, even if it’s low-effort…”
“I understand. That’s why I was surprised that you had jumped straight to taking on a cat, Yoisaki-san. Truthfully, I was a little worried… but it seems like you’ve pulled through in the end.”
“You think so?” Kanade wasn’t sure if she could believe Honami’s words. It felt like she was doing the bare minimum, while Mizuki took care of themself where she fell short.
“I know so! That day, when you called for help on taking care of a cat, I knew you were serious, Yoisaki-san. Like you always have been, when it comes to others’ wellbeing.” Honami affirmed. “Whenever I come by, Mizuki always seems healthy and happy, so I believe you’re doing a great job. And another thing…”
“What is it?”
“I’ve always been worried about you living by yourself. Even if you know how to take care of yourself, I think it must get so lonely sometimes. So…”
The pride in Honami’s eyes as she looked at Kanade couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.
“I’m so glad that you have a dear friend to always keep you company now, Yoisaki-san.”
The sentiment echoed inside her heart warmly. The smile came to Kanade easily, as she thought of the pink cat that had become such an important part of her life.
“Yeah, me too.”
———
Mizuki had been acting off all day.
Actually, their strange behavior had started as far back as yesterday. Kanade had been working in her room as usual, with Mizuki chilling on her bed nearby. The cat had developed a habit of coming into her room while she was working, seemingly to enjoy the music. Whenever Kanade looked over at them, they seemed to be at peace — curling up, smiling, eyes half-closed.
It reminded her of something An had told her once — about a stray cat on her home street that seemed to be able to enjoy music just as humans do — so perhaps Mizuki was similar.
The thought brought a smile to her face.
Looking at them like that, Kanade was suddenly overcome with a wave of adoration. Come to think of it, It had been a while since Mizuki had joined her in this little home. Maybe it was time she treated them to something.
The cat tree and the feather wand were good, but surely the cat must have gotten tired of them by now, right? Kanade supposed they could use a new cat toy. A quick search brought up a mountain of results, so she just clicked on the top one, which happened to be an online shopping catalog. That still left her with a lot of options, so she filtered by the top rated ones.
She could also go for an uncomplicated laser pointer, which would probably function the same as the wand, but less effort. She could switch them up between plays, to keep it fresh for the cat. Mizuki was also a very active cat, so maybe something that enticed them to move a lot would help. Maybe one of these robotic toys that ran around on their own? They were even shaped like mice. Ah, but they required batteries…
Oh, what was this? A cat wheel? Like a hamster wheel, but for cats. Sounded interesting. The price was significantly higher than the other products, but as long as it was good for Mizuki…
Mizuki probably didn’t need a new plush friend, as Kanade had given them her old plushies (which they had grown attached to and were keen to cuddle with or bury themself in the pile). Ah, but the recommended section was also suggesting her different brands of kibbles as a part of a combo deal. Kanade was fine with eating the same thing for days, but she shouldn’t assume that of others. Perhaps a change in their diet was also in order…
“Maybe I should get all of them…” Kanade mumbled to herself.
It was only then that she noticed a presence in the corner of her eyes, and turned to see Mizuki sitting on the desk, staring at her screen.
“Oh, did you see already?” Kanade smiled sheepishly. “So much for a surprise…” A normal cat wouldn’t understand maybe, but Mizuki was different. Even if they couldn’t understand everything, Kanade was pretty sure that they were smart enough to develop an idea of what was going on usually.
The look in their eyes only confirmed her suspicion. They seemed to be staring at the list of products she had added to her cart with shocked, wide eyes.
“Don’t worry, I won’t buy all of these,” Kanade reassured, then paused. “Or maybe I will… I could afford it, right?”
Whatever it was that surprised them so, Mizuki continued to remain shell-shocked at it. Their demeanor was starting to concern Kanade a little.
“You deserve it, Mizuki,” she added with a smile, reaching out to pat their head.
That seemed to wake them up from their trance at least, though they continued to remain silent.
All the way till now.
For a talkative cat like Mizuki, their silence was especially concerning. They had gone silent before, and it had never been on good occasions — when they didn’t have a good night sleep, when they were sick and couldn’t eat, when their ribbon was stuck under the mattress and they were brooding about it all day.
(Kanade couldn’t find Mizuki inside the house one gloomy day. It took her a while to figure out that they had gone outside, and even later to figure out exactly where when Mizuki showed up sopping wet on the open window sill of her bedroom.
The sight was not one she would forget anytime soon — like that fateful day she had decided to adopt them. Baby pink fur, matted and darkened with rain, dripping on the floor. Those normally bright and cheerful magenta eyes, dull and heavy with emotions she couldn’t place, emotions that shouldn’t be possible for a cat to have at all.
They were dead silent that day.)
It always meant that something was wrong, and it always fell on Kanade to figure out why, because Mizuki would not come to her, even though Kanade believed they didn’t lack the creativity needed to deliver the message to her somehow.
It meant that something was bothering them.
At the very least, this matter seemed… not as serious as she had seen them before? It wasn’t like they were actively avoiding her, like they tended to do. Instead, they kept watching her from a distance, staring at her with intense animal eyes. Thoughtful. Indecipherable.
When Kanade did stop to meet their gaze though, Mizuki pretended that they hadn’t been staring and trotted up to her to meow and rub against her legs.
This behavior was new.
In any case, perhaps there was something she could do to cheer them up.
That reminded her: it had been a while since Kanade last gave Mizuki some catnip. She had been warned not to use it too often, but as a result she often ended up forgetting about it completely. Mizuki themself didn’t seem to need it usually, content with their cat tree and toy wand (or other things around the house like Kanade’s pen or cup noodles, occasionally) and cuddling with Kanade when she worked.
They had really enjoyed it last time though, so maybe they could use some now.
Let’s see, where did Honami put it…
Kanade found it in one of the kitchen cupboards. The issue: it was on the highest shelf. Perhaps Honami put it there to deter Mizuki from getting to it, or because she saw that it was barely getting used. Perhaps it was a combination of both.
Kanade was not about to let something like her vertically challenged stature get in the way of Mizuki’s happiness. With a grunt, she pulled a kitchen chair over and climbed on it.
Her footing wobbled a little as she righted herself up — giving her a heart attack — but she managed to get up without incident. Sighing in relief, Kanade reached out and took the container.
See, she could attempt basic functions! She had grown since middle school! She could take care of herself and Mizuki—
Her foot slipped.
Kanade’s entire body was frozen stiff, helpless as the solid surface of the chair disappeared underneath and it was all so fast and she was falling—
She shut her eyes.
"Oof!"
…
…..
She was still alive.
She felt present. Her body didn't hurt. Actually, did she hit the ground at all? Her head felt heavy from the weight of her hair tugging horizontally to her neck. Her feet were still hanging in midair.
She opened her eyes.
What was underneath her wasn’t ground. Arms — human arms, warm and solid — supported her underneath her shoulders and knees, having caught her before she met her doom. Baby pink hair, tied in a familiar ribbon, fell over their lean shoulders. Fluffy feline ears stood upright, alert. Concerned magenta eyes met hers — foreign, but familiar at the same time. All that was different was…
Human pupils, instead of feline ones.
“Mizuki?” Kanade whispered in a daze.
Her savior blinked, startled out of their trance.
“Um, hi?” They cracked an awkward smile. “This is not how I wanted to— I mean— Ah—”
Kanade reached out and pinched their cheek with her hand.
“Uh…”
“Is this real?” Kanade mumbled, squinting. “Did I die and go to hell?”
The puff of breath that came out of them as they chuckled at the sentence felt real enough on Kanade’s skin. “I think if anything, you’ll go to heaven if you die. Also, aren’t you supposed to pinch your own cheek?” They blinked. “Oh wait, I’m still— Let me set you down.”
They sounded exactly how Kanade imagined Mizuki would sound like if they were a human — bright, cheery, lively, uplifting. Warm.
Kanade’s feet met the floor again. Afterwards, Mizuki slowly backed away. Their look in their eyes was unreadable.
“Uhhh…” They stepped towards the door, body half-turned away. Their eyes cast down on the floor, avoiding hers. Something seeped into their expression — a hint of melancholy. “I’m just… going to go now…”
Kanade blinked. “Wait… where are you going?”
“Um, I don’t know yet, but don’t worry,” they laughed, but their attempt at cheerfulness fell flat. “I’ll figure it out. I always have.”
Kanade frowned. “Why can’t you stay?”
Mizuki finally looked up to meet her gaze. Their smile frayed, wavered like leaves in a rain. Their long tail curled around their own leg. “You… must not want me here anymore, right? I’m not a cat, and I have been lying to you about being one all this time. You wanted a pet, not,” they gestured at themself, “whatever ‘this’ is.”
“You’re still my friend,” Kanade stepped forward, pleading. Mizuki immediately stepped away, their expression twisted.
“You don’t mean that. Your friend was the cat. Cute, tiny, fluffy, innocent,... not,” they raised their arms, “some uncute, unappealing, lying stranger— a whole human to accommodate and feed with all their baggage—”
Kanade rushed forward, and wrapped Mizuki in a hug.
Mizuki smelled like dust, cat food, the Yoisaki residence’s kitchen’s floor tiles, and the strawberry-scented cat shampoo Kanade picked out with them. She felt them freeze under her embrace, arms hanging uncertainly above her.
“...Aren’t you mad?” She heard them ask, timid and scared, voice barely above a whisper. She smiled, tightening her arms.
“Why would I be? I’ll get to know the real you.”
Mizuki trembled, then sobbed. Kanade felt their tears seep into her shoulder, felt their hands drop limply to their sides, felt them lean into the embrace. Their weight was a bit heavy on her, but that was okay. They were here. They stayed.
Kanade couldn’t wait to get to know them again.