by Hiro Arikawa
Why the glum look? If you’re bored of it, then I’ll have it back, Momo said to me.
She was stretching out her long limbs on a nearby sofa. She’d allowed me, the guest, to take her special seat on top of the TV.
It’s not that I’m bored. It’s just … I cast a glance at the worn-down Sugi.
I thought they were friends, but it doesn’t look as though Sugi likes Satoru very much, Momo suggested.
That can’t be true, I said.
Don’t think he wants him here. And yet he went out especially yesterday to buy that wine. Said he’d like Satoru to try it.
Why flare up at Satoru like that then? Why say things about Satoru’s character, as though he’s upset that he’s such a good person?
He likes him, but he also envies him. My master wants to be like your master.
I don’t get it. Satoru is Satoru, and Sugi is Sugi.
Exactly. But the master seems to feel that if he could be like Satoru, then Chikako would love him more.
Dear me, it sounds like it’s a pretty big thing for him.
Chikako used to really like your master, is what I gather, Momo clarified.
This was going way back. Way before Momo was born, when these humans were young. She said she heard it from the cat who lived with them previously.
What did Satoru think? Did he like Chikako, too?
If a woman who held on to an old boxy TV for the sake of a cat was Satoru’s wife, now that might be really wonderful, is what I was thinking.
Well, that’s not something we know. It’s just that, when it comes to Chikako, the master seems to have a guilty conscience regarding Satoru, said Momo.
Sounds like an awkward business to me. I mean, Chikako ended up choosing Sugi and became his wife, so what’s the problem?
Among cats, when a female chooses a mate, it’s a very clear-cut thing. Not just among cats, but with all animals, the female’s judgement about love is absolute. Of course, I haven’t experienced true love myself, having been looked after by Satoru since I was young. I was a little too gentle to have won the heart of a female when I was young. If I’d had a bigger face and a sterner expression, I might have. Like Yoshimine. If he were a cat, he’d definitely be a hit with the ladies.
But it makes sense now.
That mutt of a dog is Sugi’s, isn’t it?
Dogs the world over just aren’t very level-headed about things. Their master says jump and they ask, ‘How high?’ So perhaps Sugi’s dog is trying to take the side of his gloomy master.
With cats, though, the master can throw a tantrum but cats don’t necessarily jump. Cats always follow their own path.
Toramaru was still young and lacked subtlety.
In the evening, they let the dog inside the house, but led him immediately to another room. He didn’t come at us barking like he did when we first met, but since he had been so terribly rude to Satoru, he and I were on high alert.
‘Well, well, you seem to have had a few already.’
Chikako was out of the bath.
‘Are you going to bed now?’ Chikako asked, as though pacifying a child, to which Sugi replied, ‘Nope,’ shaking his head like a spoiled brat.
‘If you and Satoru are staying up, then I will, too.’
Chikako and Satoru looked at each other with a smile. Their faces were glowing. Is a drunk really that endearing? To me, it just looks embarrassing. Crikey, I really hope I don’t look like that when I sniff a bit of catnip.
After a while, Satoru said, ‘I’m feeling sleepy now, so I’m off to bed. Come on.’
Satoru helped Sugi to his feet, but perhaps he was heavier than he expected, or his body more limp, because he began to stagger. Chikako got up quickly to help prop Sugi up.
In this way, the two of them got Sugi to bed.
NOT LONG AFTER Satoru moved away with his aunt, Sugi started going out with Chikako.
They were both aiming to get into the same college. They talked it over and decided on a university in Tokyo. Chikako was planning to help out with the orchard business in the future, so if she didn’t go to college outside the prefecture, she would end up spending her whole life within the confines of the district she grew up in. It was an entirely natural, innocent desire for a young girl to want to spend some part of her life in the big city.
They both passed the university entrance exams, and Chikako was to live with relatives in Tokyo while Sugi would stay in the dorm. It was a double room, and he was a bit concerned about whether he’d get on with his roommate, but the dorm had two points in its favour – the low rent and the convenient location.
He and his roommate arranged to meet up before the college entrance ceremony, and Sugi set off, map in hand, down the unfamiliar streets to locate his dorm.
The winding backstreets confused him and he wandered round in circles for a while, but he finally arrived, not too much later than the scheduled time.
He was filling out forms at the reception desk when it happened.
‘Sugi!’
He didn’t know anyone yet and turned around uncertainly. When he saw who it was, he was stunned.
‘Satoru!’ he said, before his brain froze. It was great to meet an old friend like this in an unfamiliar place, but at the same time the question of why Satoru was here, paired with his still-guilty conscience, began to play on his mind.
‘I heard from Chikako that she was applying to this college, and I thought maybe you were, too. I see I was right.’
‘You heard from her? You mean, you guys met after you moved away?’
‘No, not at all. She wrote to me.’
This was back when high-school students didn’t all have mobile phones.
‘I gave you guys my new address, remember? And Chikako wrote me a letter. I never got a letter from you, though,’ Satoru said, teasingly.
‘Hey, but I did call you a few times.’
‘Well, I guess when friends grow up, they lose touch. It’s the same with my pals from junior high, though we talk a lot on the phone. When I got that letter from Chikako, I thought, Wow, girls really are conscientious. We’ve written to each other a few times since.’
And in one of the letters Satoru had apparently read about which college Chikako was applying to.
‘Chikako never told me you were applying here, Satoru.’
‘That makes sense, since I never told her. I reckoned, if one of us didn’t get in, it would feel kind of awkward.’
Now that he understood, Sugi realized there was nothing to it. But still he had his suspicions – and that was the problem.
‘Since we’re both here, why don’t we ask them if we can share a room?’ Satoru asked. ‘My roommate hasn’t appeared yet, and if we arrange it now it shouldn’t be a problem.’
Satoru had been in the dorm for a week already, and his kind nature meant he had already made a network of acquaintances, so they managed to swap roommates.
Chikako was delighted that Satoru was attending the same college, but sulked about not being told. ‘Why didn’t you let me know?’ she asked. She had been just about to write a letter to him to let him know that she and Sugi had both got into the same college.
The first semester flew by, and before they knew it the second semester had started.
‘Sugi, I got a gift from one of the second years.’ Satoru showed him some cans of beer, an upmarket brand that was seldom discounted.
Twenty was the legal drinking age, but for college students that was just official policy, and in the dorm drinks were circulated even between under-age students. They made sure, though, that things didn’t get out of hand, and were careful to avoid the eagle-eyed dorm mother whenever there was alcohol around.
‘Oh, then I’ll cadge some snacks to go with it.’
Dorms students often got food parcels from home, and if the students shared whatever they received, they could all get some pretty nice things. Sugi had just received some juicy grapes, and, trading up, he managed to talk a student hailing f
rom Hokkaido into letting him have some salmon fillets and sweets that were a speciality of the student’s hometown.
Satoru would get merry when he drank, but he wasn’t much of a drinker. Two cans of beer were all it took before his eyes grew bloodshot.
For some reason, the talk turned to an in-dorm romance. A freshman, quite a frivolous guy, had made repeated moves on an older girl in the dorm and kept getting shot down. The other guys found it funny, but also tried to cheer him up.
‘How many times has he been rejected?’
‘Eleven, so far.’
Satoru, the informant, passed this on to Sugi, and chuckled. ‘It’s so funny – he won’t give in. He said that during the second semester he’s going to hit the twenty mark.’
‘What for? Is he aiming to break some kind of record for being rejected? He’s lost sight of the goal!’
‘I know, but I kind of envy that sort of recklessness.’
Satoru’s red eyes sparkled.
‘You know, in high school I sort of had a thing for Chikako.’
The one thing Sugi had hoped never to hear.
‘But since you were there, I reckoned it was hopeless. Still, even if I had been rejected, I wish I’d at least told her.’
I wish I’d at least told her. If he had, then history would have been different.
Unable to keep it in, his voice cracked. ‘Please. Don’t ever tell Chikako.’
I wish I’d at least told her. History might still be different, even now.
‘Please.’
Miserably bowing his head, Sugi thought, how shameful can I get? I know very well how miserable I look, yet I still go ahead and beg him.
Satoru seemed touched by his words, and his eyes widened a little. Just as they had when Sugi had asked for advice and shut him down. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ He smiled. ‘You two probably have a stronger relationship than you think you do.’
So Sugi was, in the end, successful in keeping Satoru quiet.
Sugi graduated from college, returned to his hometown and, after a few years, married Chikako. Satoru came to the wedding.
History wasn’t going to be rewritten now – they’d come too far for that.
Still, sometimes Sugi would get a bit panicky when he thought of Satoru. Punishment, he thought, for having suppressed his friend’s words all those years ago.
If he took in Satoru’s cat, it would be a thorn in his side that would torment him for the rest of his life. But still.
Satoru was clearly troubled about what to do with his cat and had come to ask for his help, and since Sugi had won out with Chikako through unfair methods, he felt it was his duty to help.
It might seem weird for such a petty and cowardly guy like me to do this so late in the day, Sugi thought, but I really do like you, Satoru. You’ve had a much, much harder life than I have, yet you’ve always remained generous and kind. You blow me away.
I’ve always wanted to be more like you. If only I could be.
THE NEXT MORNING, another meeting between the dog and me was arranged.
After breakfast, Chikako left the dining room to fetch him.
‘Be a good boy this time, Tora,’ Chikako cautioned him as he stood behind the fence. Sugi, looking worried, was pacing around the dining room. Satoru looked a little worried, too. The only ones who kept their cool were Momo and yours truly.
Breakfast for me was a special tuna blend with a side of chicken breast, so I was feeling pleasantly full. Give it your best shot, you hound.
The door to the room swung open.
The dog had planted himself in the doorway and was staring hard in my direction. He avoided Satoru’s eyes.
Too damn right.
Yesterday, on several occasions, Sugi had scolded the dog, reminding him that Satoru was his good friend and that he mustn’t bark at him. That being the case, there was only one other he could turn his fire on.
You want it, pal, then I’m more than ready for you.
The dog began to bark at me in such a frenzy he looked on the verge of losing it.
Ignoring the cries of the humans, I arched my back as high as it could go and made my fur stand on end. You don’t fool around, do you? Momo murmured. High praise, indeed.
The dog would not stop barking. Satoru rushed over to hold me down so I wouldn’t leap out at the stupid dog.
As long as you’re here, the master and his wife will be thinking of Satoru! It’s painful for my master if his wife remembers him!
I don’t need to hear that. If it’s a house with a stupid hound like you in it, then I’m calling the whole thing off on my own!
If it came to a fight, I was several leagues above this mutt.
You may talk big, but I bet you’ve never been in a life-and-death scrape. Bet you’ve never been in the kind of fight over territory where, if you lose, you’ll have nothing to eat for days, have you, you spoiled, high-and-mighty hound?
I gave him an earful of the kind of spiel I’d perfected over the course of numerous scenes of carnage. The kind of rough language to which I can’t subject you polite ladies and gentlemen.
Momo, surveying all this with total disinterest from her perch atop the TV, smiled. Pardon me, I told her. My one regret is besmirching the ears of a refined lady like yourself with such language.
Go home, damn you! The hound was close to tears, and still barking his head off.
A piddling three-year-old dog who’s always worn a collar thinks he’s going to beat me? Not in a hundred years, my friend. Momo’s lived twice as long as me, and I’ve lived twice as long as you, pal.
I won’t allow someone in this house who reminds the master and his wife of Satoru! Besides—
Shut it! Say any more and I’ll make you regret it!
I had to admire the dog, though, since he still wouldn’t shut up. He really was wound up.
Besides, your owner smells like he’s not going to make it.
I told you to shut it!
‘Nana!’ Satoru yelled at me.
I had escaped from his grasp and swiped the dog with my claws.
Ruff! The dog’s scream rang out. Three neat rows of wounds now ran down his brindled muzzle, and three lines of blood were faintly oozing out.
But still Toramaru didn’t put his tail between his legs.
Several times, he looked as though he was about to lower it at least, but then he forced it up again. And growled more deeply.
‘Stop it, Nana! You’ll hurt him!’
The fight was already won, so I meekly let Satoru pick me up. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Satoru apologized over and over to Toramaru, and to Sugi and Chikako.
‘It’s okay. I’m just glad Nana didn’t get bitten.’
Chikako, turning pale, let out a sigh. Sugi gave Toramaru a good rap on the head with his fist.
‘If you had really bitten Nana, he would have died, you know!’
For the first time, Toramaru let his tail sag between his legs. And he glared at me regretfully.
Okay, I understand. I won’t count that among my victories.
‘I’m sorry. I really appreciate you saying you’d look after Nana for me, but I’m going to take him back home.’ Satoru sounded quite sad about this. ‘It wouldn’t be good for Toramaru, either, to have to live with a cat he doesn’t get on with.’
Satoru fetched the basket. As I stepped in obediently, I glanced back at Toramaru.
Thank you, Toramaru.
Toramaru looked a little dubious.
I came here on a trip with Satoru. Not to be left behind here in this house. I was trying to come up with a plan so we could go home together, and thanks to you it has all worked out smoothly.
Toramaru lowered his eyes and tilted his head, and Satoru and I headed towards the silver van.
They brought Toramaru out on a lead to see us off. Sugi kept a tight hold of it, wrapping it a few times around his hand.
Momo came out of her own accord to say goodbye. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a fight as d
efinitive as that, she said, paying me a compliment.
‘I’m so sorry it’s turned out this way. I’m just glad Nana didn’t get hurt.’
‘We really did hope to look after him.’
Sugi and Chikako apologized, one after the other, but that only made Satoru uncomfortable. Which was understandable, seeing as how the only one who actually hurt anyone was, in the end, moi.
As usual, before Satoru got the van on the move, the old friends seemed to find it painful to say goodbye.
Even after Satoru was behind the wheel, Chikako kept saying she had forgotten to give him this or that, and handed him one present after another: her home-grown herbs, some fruit, and more fruit.
We really had better be going.
‘Oh, by the way,’ Satoru called out of the open window. ‘When I was in high school, I really liked you, Chikako. Did you know that?’
The way he said it was pretty blasé. Sugi’s face stiffened. And Chikako said – ‘What?’ Then she blinked like a pigeon that had just been shot by a peashooter, and gave a little laugh. ‘That was so long ago. Why bring it up now?’
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right.’
The two of them chuckled. Sugi stood there, astonished, then gave a late-to-the-party laugh.
He might have been laughing, but he looked almost ready to cry.
The van had started moving down the drive when there was a shout.
‘Toramaru!’
Toramaru wrenched hard, struggling to break free of the lead.
Hey, cat!
Toramaru was calling me.
You can stay! The master was laughing with the missus and Satoru, so it’s all okay now for you to stay!
You idiot. I told you I had no intention of being left behind from the very start.
‘Tora, can’t you at least behave when we’re saying goodbye!’ Sugi tugged angrily at the lead.
Don’t be cross with him. He was trying to stop me leaving.
But what with Tora barking his head off earlier, Sugi thought he was still angry.
‘Is he upset?’ asked Satoru. He looked in the rear-view mirror at the receding figures. ‘His bark sounds different from before.’
That’s why I like you, Satoru. You’re perceptive about things like that.