The Travelling Cat Chronicles

3 SUGI AND CHIKAKO’S HOTEL FOR PETS

RELAX WITH YOUR beloved pet while enjoying a breathtaking view of Mount Fuji.

This was the slogan with which Shusuke Sugi and his wife Chikako launched their bed and breakfast three years ago.

The whole thing came about when the company Sugi worked for started to struggle and began to explore the idea of voluntary redundancy. Around that time, a B&B next to the fruit orchards owned by Chikako’s parents came up for sale at a greatly reduced price, and the couple bought it, lock, stock and barrel, and opened it up for business. They considered part of its appeal would be to offer a discount to guests wanting to do pick-your-own in the orchards next door. This worked both ways, for it would benefit the orchard business to have customers referred to them, which was another reason they decided to take the plunge.

In the end, though, the B&B’s biggest selling point was that they allowed pets.

It was Chikako who came up with the idea.

Using the first and second floors, plus a small cottage in the grounds, they were able to lodge guests with dogs or cats separately. Dogs and cats each had their own floor and, as long as they got on with their own kind, they could enjoy life off the lead or outside their basket. Issues of compatibility were left to the owners’ discretion.

Very few B&Bs in the area allowed both dogs and cats; most places catered just for dogs. Some of the larger inns accepted both, but most of them demanded that pets remain on a lead or in a basket.

Sugi was more of a dog person, so at first he wasn’t sure about his wife’s idea, but after the B&B had been running for three years he had to admit she’d been very perceptive.

In addition to Chikako’s family business, there were plenty of other orchards and wineries nearby, and within their prefecture this area attracted a lot of tourists – but a B&B where cats could stay, stress-free, was almost unheard of. Word of mouth and repeat business led to an increase in cat-owning guests, and these days, guests with cats outnumbered those with dogs.

Chikako loved all cats, and cat-owning guests always received a warm welcome, but she’d never been happier than with the guests who were arriving today.

Chikako had been on the second floor making the bed in the sunniest twin room and now, dirty linen in hand and humming a tune, she made her way downstairs.

‘You seem pretty upbeat,’ Sugi said. He’d tried to make it sound casual, but it came out sounding oddly churlish. Chikako looked at him, puzzled.

‘Aren’t you happy? Satoru Miyawaki is bringing his cat for the very first time.’

‘Of course I am, but…’ Sugi said hurriedly, trying to gloss it over. ‘I was just wondering if his cat will get on with our pets.’

Their own pets were a dog – a Kai Ken breed – and a brown tabby cat. The Kai Ken was a three-year-old male named Toramaru, while the brown tabby cat was a twelve-year-old female named Momo. Toramaru (tora meaning ‘tiger’) got his name from the distinctive orangey brindle fur that certain Kai Ken dogs have, while Momo, which means ‘peach’, was named after the main crop of the orchard.

‘Don’t worry so much. It’ll be fine. Our little ones are used to having guests.’

Sugi persisted, despite Chikako’s teasing smile. ‘Satoru is giving away his cat, you know. I’m sure he can’t be too happy about that.’

The man they were expecting was their mutual high-school friend Satoru Miyawaki.

An email had arrived in Sugi’s inbox saying that, though Satoru loved his cat very much, there was a compelling reason why he couldn’t keep him any longer, and he was looking for someone to take care of him.

No explanation of what this compelling reason was, but when Sugi noticed in the newspaper that a large corporation had started to lay off employees, he didn’t pursue the matter. Satoru’s company, as he recalled, was a subsidiary of that corporation.

If an organization that big is beginning to lay people off, Sugi pondered, then I guess it’s only to be expected that my old company would do the same. He was lucky to have left his local firm when he did.

‘But if we take on his cat, we can give him back at any time, can’t we?’ Chikako said, and laughed. ‘I’m thinking of it more as a temporary arrangement. I’ll take good care of him while we have him, of course. That goes without saying.’

A temporary arrangement. Sugi hadn’t considered that. Chikako was always so positive and forward-thinking. Always looking on the bright side. Calling Sugi prudent made it sound positive, but the fact was he tended to be far less optimistic, the exact opposite of Chikako.

‘There really must be some sound reason for him to give away his cat all of a sudden… But one day, I know, Satoru will come back for him.’

Chikako seemed to believe categorically that Satoru’s love for his cat would overcome all obstacles. When it came to cat love, the two of them had always been on the same wavelength.

Bed linen in hand, Chikako went into the laundry room. ‘Get down, Momo.’ Their cat seemed to be asleep on top of the washing machine. ‘Satoru says his cat is named Nana. Make sure you get on with him now.’ Chikako sounded like she was singing as she said this. ‘Oh!’ she called loudly. ‘Darling, make sure you tell Tora the same thing.’

Both dog and cat were equally important to them, but, in practical terms, there was a clear division of duties. Chikako, the cat person, was in charge of Momo, while Sugi, more on the dog side of the divide, handled all things Toramaru.

Whenever there’s anything major happening in our family we need to inform both our dog and cat – this proposal by Chikako had become a firm family rule.

Sugi slipped his feet into the sandals he had left at the entrance and went outside. When the weather was fine, during the day they let Toramaru have free run of a special fenced-off space in the front yard. Sugi’s father-in-law, who prided himself on his carpentry skills, had built a kennel for Toramaru.

‘Tora!’

Hearing his name, Tora wagged his curled tail energetically and leapt up to his owner. He could jump so high it looked like he might one day bound over the high fence, so, to be on the safe side, whenever guests arrived, they put him on a lead tied to his kennel. The expert who had given them the dog told them how the breed divided into two types – the slimmer types who were built for chasing deer, and the thicker-set types who were good at chasing wild boar. Toramaru was a textbook deer type.

For two days, Satoru would be the only guest, so Sugi had let Tora off his lead.

‘Satoru is coming this evening. The friend I told you about.’

Sugi had acquired Toramaru three years earlier when they first opened the B&B, but right about that time, Satoru was moved over to a busy section of his company and had little free time to visit him and Chikako. Sugi had been able to see him occasionally when he went into Tokyo to purchase food for the B&B, but it would be the first time in three years that Chikako had seen him, and the very first time for Toramaru.

Satoru had always seemed very busy with work, so Sugi presumed his job must be secure, but with staffing cutbacks there could be many factors at play.

‘This is the first time you’ll meet Satoru and Nana, Tora, and I hope you’ll get on with them.’

Sugi gave Toramaru’s head a brisk rub, and the dog gave a throaty growl. Rough stroking like this was one of the real pleasures of having a dog. If he tried the same with Momo, he thought, she’d probably lunge at him, claws bared.

‘You be on your best behaviour, okay?’

Toramaru looked searchingly into Sugi’s eyes, then gave another husky growl.

THAT DAY, THERE was no doves-about-to-pop-out kind of music playing in the silver van.

Perhaps thinking he’d have a break from the car stereo, Satoru had the radio on instead. A little while ago, a refined-sounding older gentleman had been enthusiastically introducing a book on some programme or other. Apparently, he was an actor.

He talked elegantly, yet occasionally he would use unexpected language: words like ‘cool’ and ‘awesome’, and even for a mere cat like myself, hearing this gentleman rattle on and on about how awesome a book was really made me smile.

All well and good, but no matter how appealing a book might be, I can’t read it. As I explained earlier, most animals are multilingual when it comes to listening, but reading is beyond us. Reading and writing seem to belong to a special linguistic system that only humans possess.

‘Hmm, if Mr Kodama, the host of the programme, likes the book so much, maybe I should read it,’ Satoru murmured. When he was at home, he spent more time reading books than watching TV; he’d even been known to shed the occasional tear as he turned the pages. If he ever caught me watching him during one of these moments, he would look embarrassed and say, ‘Stop staring.’

The book programme came to an end, and after a while a nursery song began to play.

Sometimes it’s nice to hear this kind of gentle singing. Though the melody was making me sleepy.

Hm? At this last line, I sat up, rested my paws on the passenger-seat window and craned my neck to see out.

For a while now, there had been a huge triangular mountain plonked down in the distance.

‘Oh, did you make the connection, Nana?’

Humans always underestimate our language skills. Just ’cause they can read and write, there’s no need to act all high and mighty.

‘That’s right, it’s a song about Mount Fuji. Great timing, don’t you think?’

When that triangular-shaped mountain, with its base spread so wide, loomed closer, Satoru said, ‘That’s Mount Fuji.’

On TV and in photos, it looks just like a triangle that has flopped down on to the earth, but when you see it in real life it feels overwhelming, like it’s closing in on you.

It’s the highest mountain in Japan at 3,776 metres, and there’s even a mnemonic device for people to remember the elevation: Let’s all be like Fuji-san, Fuji-san no yo ni mi [three] na [seven] ni na [seven] rou [six] – there are many higher mountains around the world, but as a free-standing single mountain it’s unusually high. Satoru rattled on and on, explaining all kinds of facts in great detail.

I get it, how great it is. You don’t need to go on and on. It makes total sense why there is a song dedicated to it. Yada yada.

You really have to see it with your own eyes, though. If you’ve only seen it on TV or in photos, it’ll always remain just a triangular mountain sitting there. Like it was to me until right this moment.

Being big has its advantages. Just as being a big cat makes it easier to get by in life.

Still, this mountain was pretty darn amazing.

I wonder how many cats in Japan have seen the actual Mount Fuji. Unless they live around here, there can’t be too many.

Our silver van was like a magic carriage. Every time I got into it, it carried me to a place I’d never been before.

At that moment, we were without doubt the greatest travellers in the world. And I was the world’s greatest travelling cat.

The van veered off the main road and drove into a thick, lush forest.

The branches of the trees on either side had bunches of white paper bags hanging from them, apparently to protect the peaches growing on them – to keep the insects off and help the fruit ripen.

After zigzagging for quite some time, finally a large white house appeared in front of us.

‘We’re here, Nana.’

This must be the bed and breakfast Satoru had talked about – the inn, run by some friends, that accepts pets. Today, the place was reserved just for us.

As the van pulled into a parking lot big enough for about ten cars, a man Satoru’s age came out to greet us.

‘Sugi!’

Satoru gave him a wave and unloaded his bag from the van.

‘Is this your only bag? I’ll help you.’

‘Apart from Nana, I only brought a change of clothes, as it’s just the one night.’

Sugi took hold of his friend’s bag, and Satoru carried me in my basket, and together they climbed the gentle slope to the B&B entrance.

‘What a wonderful place this is. Is that a dog run?’

On the way up the slope was a fairly large fenced-in space with what looked like a kennel near the back.

‘I wanted a space where my dog could run free.’

‘A Kai Ken, isn’t it? I remember you saying you had one.’

From inside the basket, I sniffed at the air. A disgusting smell that belonged to that perennial rival to cats.

I squinted through the bars and watched as a hard-faced brindle dog sprang to his feet and stared challengingly in my direction.

‘Yeah, his name is Toramaru.’

‘Is he okay living with a cat?’

‘Of course. We have Momo, you know. And lots of guests bring their cats.’

‘Ah, that’s right…’

I’d already heard from Satoru that they had a middle-aged female cat named Momo. She was twice my age, he’d said. I was still fairly young, so would we get on?

‘Hey there. Hello. Glad to meet you, Toramaru,’ called Satoru, holding his hand over the fence.

Hold on a minute! Don’t go speaking to that dog! I glowered from inside my basket.

This Kai Ken who went by the name of Toramaru cast a sharp glance our way and growled and bared his yellow teeth.

‘Is he in a bad mood then?’

The instant Satoru inclined his head – ruff! – the dog barked at him.

‘Whoa!’

As you might expect, Satoru quickly pulled his hand back from the fence.

Hey! Knock it off, hound!

Every single hair on my body was now standing on end.

If you’re going to pick a fight with Satoru, then I – a cat with a strong sense of pride – am not going to just sit here and take it! If you don’t want that nose of yours cut to shreds, then apologize right this instant, you mangy mutt!

‘Tora!’

Sugi scolded him, but the mutt didn’t stop his miserable yammering.

Satoru tried to soothe me, too.

‘It’s okay, Nana. Just hang in there.’

He was holding the door of the basket closed from the outside because he knew I was quite willing to have it out with that stupid dog if I had to.

‘I’m really sorry,’ Sugi said. ‘He’s not usually like this.’

‘No, it’s okay… I wonder if we did something to upset him.’

‘What’s going on?’ A woman hurried out of the front door. A pretty woman wearing an apron. ‘Is Tora angry?’

‘It’s no big deal. Hi, Chikako. How are you?’ This from Satoru, who waved his hand at the woman.

‘Satoru! I’m so sorry. Is everything all right?’

‘No worries. I’m not used to cats or dogs getting angry with me, and it startled me for a second.’

That’s true. From an animal’s point of view, Satoru was a pretty stress-free human, the kind that passing dogs and cats found no reason to pick a fight with.

An impudent dog like this leaping out at him was definitely a first.

‘I’m so sorry. I really am,’ Sugi apologized, making another knock it off gesture at the dog. Toramaru let his curled tail droop. Serves you right, you stupid hound.

‘It’s fine. Really,’ Satoru said, trying to smooth things over. ‘He seems like a good, dependable dog. Maybe I look a little dodgy to him?’

Satoru tried again, reaching over the fence to scratch the dog’s neck. The mutt quietly allowed him to stroke him, but it was obvious to me he was still sulking. Try flashing those gnashers at Satoru again for even a split second, mate, and you’ll have me to deal with!

Through the bars, the dog and I exchanged some seething, hostile looks, but Satoru was then shown inside the house, so there was an unavoidable pause in the action.

We were shown a lovely sunny room on the second floor.

‘After you get settled, come down,’ Chikako-san said. She turned and went nimbly down the stairs.

Well, I’ll take a look around the room, then. I easily unlatched the door of the basket from the inside and slipped silently out. The neat little room had wooden flooring, and from a feline point of view looked perfectly cosy.

‘Oh, hello there, Momo.’

At the sound of Satoru’s voice, I spun around to face the doorway. A small, dignified, brown female tabby was sitting quietly in the corner. Double my age, but still quite limber, from the look of things.

Nice to make your acquaintance, Momo greeted me, in a dignified voice quite in keeping with a dignified tabby. I hear you and Toramaru have already squabbled.

I let out a sniff. That dog has no manners. Baring his teeth at humans who try to say hello to him – he couldn’t have been well brought up.

I was thoroughly sarcastic in my comments, and Momo smiled wryly.

Please forgive him. Just as your master is precious to you, so Toramaru’s master is precious to him.

Your master is precious to you so you bark at your master’s friend? That doesn’t compute. At all.

As if sensing my displeasure Momo gave another wry smile.

I’m really sorry. I believe our master is not quite as strong a character as your master.

I still didn’t get it. I refrained from objecting, though, because I didn’t want to be disrespectful to an older lady.

‘HE SEEMS TO be getting on well with Momo.’

Satoru had come down to the lobby-cum-lounge and, with a smile, he was pointing upstairs.

‘They’re in the bedroom, getting to know each other better. Now, if only Toramaru could be friendlier. Maybe he’s angry that I brought a cat along?’

‘He should be used to guests bringing cats by now.’ Chikako tilted her head, puzzled, and offered them some herbal tea.

‘Darling, you did explain things to Toramaru, didn’t you?’ Chikako scolded Sugi jokingly.

‘Of course I did,’ Sugi pouted, his tone a little snappy.

You be on your best behaviour, okay? Sugi had said, as Toramaru gazed into his eyes. So why did he then bark at Satoru?

Maybe Toramaru had detected some discomfort in Sugi?

‘Wow, this is delicious,’ Satoru said as he sipped his tea, and Chikako beamed.

‘I’m so happy! Our guests seem to like it, too. The herbs are from our garden.’ Chikako looked over at Sugi sternly. ‘The first time I made herbal tea for him, he said it was like drinking toothpaste.’

One silly slip of the tongue back when they had first got married, and Chikako still bore a grudge. Thinking about this, Sugi had often wished he could follow Satoru’s lead and be shrewder in dealing with things. But, in truth, Sugi found openly praising anyone a bit embarrassing.

‘It’s slightly sweet. What do you put in it?’ Satoru asked.

‘Stevia.’

‘Ah, that makes sense.’

‘This is why I enjoy talking to Satoru, because we can talk about things like this!’

‘Your business seems to be doing well,’ Satoru said, clearing his throat.

‘It is. Targeting guests with cats was a smart move,’ Sugi said.

‘All my idea,’ Chikako returned.

‘Indeed. Entirely the wife’s doing,’ Sugi added. ‘But what about you? Are you doing okay? Giving away your cat… all of sudden?’

Sugi had found it hard to ask this question in an email, so he had planned to do it when they were face to face.

‘Yeah, well… you know…’ Satoru gave a troubled smile, and when he did, he suddenly looked very old.

‘I heard the business group your company belongs to has started to lay people off.’

‘It’s not really that… There are other things involved.’

Chikako gave Sugi a stealthy wink to signal him to stop. Okay, he signalled back.

‘I was so relieved when you said you’d take Nana for me. I’ve asked quite a few people now, and taken Nana to see them, but somehow it just hasn’t worked out.’

‘There’s one thing I’d like to say upfront, Satoru,’ Chikako said, sitting up straight. ‘We’re thinking of it as temporary. We’ll take good care of Nana, of course, but if things work out for you so you can take him again, we’ll have no problem if you come back for him, any time.’

Satoru looked as though this had really struck a chord, and for a moment he pursed his lips and looked at his feet.

That face – lips pursed, trying his best to keep his feelings in check – was one both Chikako and Sugi had seen before.

Suddenly Satoru looked up and smiled.

‘Thank you. I’m sorry to be so selfish, but it really makes me happy to hear that.’

SATORU HAD BECOME a mutual friend, but Sugi had been the first one to form a bond with him.

In the spring of their first year in high school, the three of them were all in the same class.

In their new form room, students from their previous junior high tended to group together, weighing up the situation, wondering who to make friends with. Satoru wasn’t hanging out with anyone. There didn’t seem to be anyone else from the school he had just come from.

They learned later that he’d arrived from another prefecture during the spring holidays and had taken the transfer exam, which was why he didn’t know a soul.

It was during one of the periodic exams that they became friends.

Sugi had crammed all night for the exam, and his head was stuffed with mathematical equations and English vocabulary. He was on his bike, heading to school, pedalling as gently as he could, in case some unexpected jolt or vibration drove all the facts he’d memorized from his brain.

Along the road to school, he spied a face he knew. That looks like Satoru from my class, he thought, as he drew closer. Satoru had got off his bike and was standing beside a wide ditch.

The ditch was the width of a stream, an agricultural irrigation channel lined with concrete on both sides, about as deep as a child was tall. Satoru was staring down at it, a serious look on his face.

Sugi wondered what he was up to, but didn’t have much time to spare before school started. Their eyes had met, so he thought he’d just give him a nod and pass on by, but he began to feel that that would make things awkward later, so after he’d gone on a little bit, he stopped.

‘What’re you doing?’ Sugi asked.

Satoru looked over at him, as if surprised. He must have thought Sugi would just cycle by.

‘Um, I found something a little troubling, that’s all.’

Satoru pointed down at the ditch, where Sugi could now see a small dog shivering. The dog had managed to scramble on top of a tiny sandbar where gravel and dirt had piled up, and his thick white-and-brown fur was soaked and plastered to him.

‘It’s a Shih Tzu.’

Sugi knew the breed, because Chikako’s family had one. They ran a fruit orchard, loved animals, and ever since she was a young child they’d had several dogs and cats, which was something that drew customers in. And Sugi had always envied their attitude to animals.

Sugi’s family lived in company housing; his father was a middle-management company employee, and because of his mother’s allergies, the only pets she would allow were hairless ones such as goldfish or turtles. His dream had always been to have a dog, but this was never going to happen in his own house, so being with Chikako’s family at least came close.

‘He must have fallen in.’

‘I guess so,’ Satoru said, nodding. There were no steps down to the ditch that they could see.

‘He’s not the type of dog you’d expect to be a stray, so I reckon he must have wandered away from his home and got lost…’

At Chikako’s, during the day they let their dogs run free in the orchards so the customers who came to pick fruit could enjoy their company, but at night they always made sure they were brought inside the house.

‘Go on ahead. You don’t need to stick around,’ Satoru urged him, but for Sugi it was a delicate decision. If it emerged later that he’d ignored a poor little dog that had fallen into a ditch, then Chikako would be pretty upset.

‘Yeah, but I’m worried about him.’

Glancing at his watch, Sugi got off his bike. He was going to be late for school, but if he got there before first period he’d still be able to take the exam.

‘Let’s sort this out as quickly as we can.’

Satoru smiled. ‘You’re a good guy, Sugi.’

All he’d been worried about was Chikako’s reaction, and he found this praise from Satoru embarrassing.

‘If we go down there, our ankles will get soaked.’

The sandbar where the Shih Tzu was standing was too far away to leap to from either side of the ditch. The water was full of algae and grass so they couldn’t see the bottom, and they were reluctant to take their shoes off in case there were any pieces of glass.

Sugi noticed a pile of boards left on the side of the road, the remnants, perhaps, of some scaffolding. He ran over and pulled one out.

‘If we angle it down near the dog, he might be able to use it as a bridge and climb along it.’

‘Maybe.’

But even with the board right in front of it, the Shih Tzu didn’t react.

They tried calling, but the dog just stood there trembling, not taking a single step.

‘Maybe it can’t see it,’ Satoru said, a serious look on his face. ‘If you look at him closely from the side, his eyes are a bit cloudy. He might be getting cataracts.’

It was hard to tell the age of the baby-faced dog, but its coat was definitely a bit worn.

‘Amazing that the little guy made it this far!’

There was a busy motorway nearby; it was a miracle the dog hadn’t been run over. Perhaps it had fallen into the ditch because it couldn’t see properly.

‘I’m going to go down. If I use this, I won’t get wet.’ Satoru put a foot on the board they’d stretched out towards the dog.

‘Be careful, it’s dangerous.’

The board was old and weathered. It might not even hold a dog’s weight, let alone that of a high-school boy. Just as these thoughts were going through Sugi’s head, the board let out an ominous creak.

‘Whoa!’

Satoru swayed on the board, and in an instant, it had split completely in two and collapsed into the ditch. There was a loud splash and a spray of water as Satoru landed on his rear in the ankle-deep stream.

Woof woof woof. The Shih Tzu barked, and started to splash his way blindly through the water.

‘Wa-wait!’

Satoru scrambled to his feet and tried to follow him. But his splashing only scared the Shih Tzu even more, and he didn’t stop. You wouldn’t know he was old and half blind, the way the dog tore through the water.

‘I’ll run ahead and climb down! We’ll catch him. Don’t let him get away!’

Sugi hared down the road, past the fleeing Shih Tzu, and took a flying leap into the ditch.

There was an explosion of water. The Shih Tzu leapt into the air and screeched to a halt. Then he spun around and started to race back the way he had come.

‘He’s coming back your way. Grab him!’

Satoru leapt towards the dog like a goalie. The Shih Tzu made a tight turn, trying to slip past, but Satoru managed to snag a hind leg. Panicked, the dog chomped down on his hand.

‘Ow!’

‘Hang on! Don’t let go!’

Sugi whipped off his blazer, threw it over the Shih Tzu and grabbed him. Swaddled, the dog finally gave up his struggle.

‘You okay?’ Sugi asked.

Satoru smiled wryly. ‘This could be pretty serious,’ he said, showing his hand. Spots of blood were bubbling up. For such a little creature, the dog certainly knew how to bite.

‘You’d better get to the hospital.’

No chance I’ll make that exam now, Sugi thought.

They took the dog to a police station beside the motorway, but when they went to the hospital there was a problem. Satoru didn’t have an insurance card. Being high-school students, they didn’t have enough cash either, so they ended up handing over their school ID cards and promising to come back and pay – and finally Satoru was treated.

By the time they got to school, second period was just finishing.

They went to the faculty office and explained to their form teacher what had happened. The whole thing sounded like a joke, but Satoru’s resemblance to a drowned rat, and his bandaged hand, must have convinced her, for the teacher accepted their version of events.

‘What happened to you guys?’ asked Chikako, playing the concerned older sister as the boys returned to the classroom.

When she heard about the rescued Shih Tzu, she wanted to see him, so they stopped at the police station on their way home from school. Satoru was concerned about the dog, too, so the three of them went together.

The old Shih Tzu with his cloudy eyes was on a lead in the corner of the lobby, bowls of dry dog biscuits and water next to it. No one had reported a missing dog.

‘He really is quite old. I don’t think he can see well at all.’ Chikako knelt down in front of the dog and waved her hand in front of his eyes. The Shih Tzu was slow to react.

‘I was wondering if we could ask you to take him,’ said a middle-aged police officer. ‘Looking after lost dogs isn’t really a policeman’s job, so we can’t keep him here for very long.’

‘If you can’t keep him here… then what will happen to him?’ Satoru asked.

The officer tilted his head. ‘If the owner doesn’t appear in the next few days, he’ll go to the pound.’

‘How could you!’ Chikako snapped. ‘You know they’ll put him down! If the owner doesn’t turn up in time—’

Satoru, pale and silent, nudged Sugi in the ribs. ‘How about keeping it at your place?’ he suggested. Instead of arguing with the officer, Satoru seemed to be looking for a practical solution.

‘No can do. My mum is allergic to any animal with fur. What about yours, Satoru?’

‘We’re in company housing and they don’t allow pets.’

Chikako, who was still carping at the police officer, turned around. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘We’ll keep him at ours.’

‘Are you sure you can make that decision right now? Shouldn’t you ask your parents or something?’

Satoru seemed alarmed by her snap decision, but Chikako just glared at him in irritation.

‘Well, we can’t just leave him here!’

Chikako called home from the payphone in the lobby. Almost an hour later, her father pulled up at the station in his small truck. They loaded her bike on to the truck bed, and Chikako got into the passenger seat and held the Shih Tzu on her lap.

‘Okay, see you soon!’ she called. ‘Satoru, if you’re worried about him, you can come and visit him at my place!’

‘Ah – thanks.’

Satoru seemed a bit intimidated by Chikako’s forceful manner.

Then Chikako was gone, like a storm departing, and the boys burst out laughing.

‘That Sakita-san is really something.’

‘She sure is. She’s always had strong views when it comes to animals, ever since she was little.’

‘Have you known her since she was a kid?’ Satoru wanted to know.

‘We’re childhood friends,’ Sugi explained.

‘I get it,’ Satoru said, nodding. ‘So that’s why Sakita-san calls you Shu-chan?’

‘I told her to drop that.’

‘What’s wrong with it? She’s your cute, dependable childhood friend.’

The way he’d casually called her cute startled Sugi. Chikako was spirited, kind and, yes, cute. He’d always known that. Still, Sugi had never spoken about these things out loud.

It made him feel like he’d lost out.

‘But will her family really be okay about taking in an unknown dog without any warning?’ Satoru asked.

‘It’ll be fine. Her family are mad about animals. They have five or six dogs and cats already.’

‘Really? Cats, too?’

‘Chikako’s more of a cat person.’

‘I see,’ Satoru said, smiling. ‘I love cats, too. I wouldn’t mind making sure the Shih Tzu’s okay, but it would be nice to see her cats, too.’

Sugi was hit by another wave of anxiety. It was clear Satoru and Chikako were going to get on well.

That evening, Chikako phoned Sugi. The fact that he had missed taking the exam in order to rescue the dog had made an impression on her.

‘By the way,’ she asked, ‘which one of you found it?’

Sugi wished he’d been the one who’d come across the dog – the thought of saying this had crossed his mind. But if I had, I probably would have just let him be. Perhaps the most I would have done would have been to check on him on the way home.

‘Well, we were both passing at about the same time.’

A little white lie.

‘But I think Satoru actually spotted him first,’ he added hastily.

‘We haven’t spoken much up till now, but Satoru’s a pretty good guy.’

Chikako seemed to like Satoru a lot. He had known she would.

The three of them often talked together after this. And Satoru and Sugi often went to Chikako’s house to see how the Shih Tzu was settling in.

Whenever Sugi went to see Chikako, he’d be put to work helping out in the orchards, as would Satoru. From the way he spoke, Satoru seemed like a real city boy, but he was, surprisingly, used to farm work, and Chikako’s family quickly grew fond of him.

The stray Shih Tzu’s owner never did materialize, so the Sakita family ended up keeping him permanently. Satoru felt badly about it and said he’d try to find somebody to take the dog, but Chikako waved this away.

The younger Shih Tzu they already had got on with the new one – they were like parent and child – and, typically for Chikako, she referred to the latter as ‘the Shih Tzu Miyawaki gave us’.

The cats at the Sakitas’ were friendlier to Satoru than to Sugi. They had, from the start, sensed that Sugi was more of a dog person. Things evened out, though, since the dogs were much friendlier to him than to Satoru. ‘The Shih Tzu Miyawaki gave us’, perhaps remembering how Satoru had been the one to chase him down, was friendlier to Sugi than to Satoru, who had found him.

One day at school, Satoru was leafing through the part-time jobs listings in the newspaper. The end-of-term exams were approaching, and their teachers had joked with them not to pick up any more stray dogs.

‘Are you looking for a holiday job?’ Sugi asked.

‘Yeah… I was wondering if there’re any with a decent hourly rate.’

‘How come? Isn’t your allowance enough?’

‘No, it’s just that I want to take a trip during the summer holiday, and I’d like to go as soon as possible.’

‘Where to?’

‘Kokura.’

Sugi didn’t know the place.

‘It’s in Fukuoka prefecture. Just before Hakata,’ Satoru explained.

Sugi knew exactly where he meant, but couldn’t understand why Satoru would want to go there, instead of to Hakata, which was much larger.

‘I have some distant relatives there,’ Satoru explained. ‘They took in our cat when we couldn’t have him any more. I haven’t been to see him at all since then.’

I see, Sugi thought. It’s not Kokura he wants to visit, but a cat.

‘Why couldn’t you keep it?’

He asked this casually, but Satoru gave a troubled smile. He seemed unsure how to respond, and Sugi was just thinking that maybe he should change the subject when a shadow loomed over them.

‘I heard, I heard.’ Laughing her usual audacious laugh, it was Chikako.

‘Man, you’re always sticking your nose into things, aren’t you?’ Sugi teased her.

‘Shut it,’ she shot back. ‘I know exactly how you feel – wanting to visit your beloved cat. I’ll pitch in and help!’

‘Do you know where I can get work?’ Satoru asked.

‘And where you can begin this very weekend!’ Chikako answered.

‘Really? If there’s a job that good, then tell me about it, too.’ Sugi had been starting to think about finding a summer job himself.

‘Having a part-time job during term time is prohibited, but there is an exception: “This shall not apply to helping out with a family business.” And if it’s helping with a classmate’s family business, if you apply, you can get permission to work just at the weekends. They consider it part of social studies.’

In short, she was telling Satoru he could work in her family’s orchard.

‘The pay isn’t much, but I’ll ask them to pay you weekly, so if you start work now, you should be able to go on your trip at the beginning of August.’

Satoru stood up, so excited he nearly kicked over his chair.

The crop was ready to harvest and a lot of customers were coming to pick fruit in their orchard. Sugi joined them to work there on Sundays, except during exam time. The hourly wages were even less than working in a small supermarket, but by the time the school closing ceremony was over, Satoru had been able to put away about 20,000 yen.

‘What are you going to use your money for, Shu-chan?’ Chikako asked.

‘I haven’t thought about it.’

Which wasn’t exactly true. ‘Hey, do you want to go and see a film?’ he said, trying to make it sound as if he’d just come up with the idea.

‘Your treat?’ As he expected, she leapt at the idea.

‘Okay. I mean, you did get me the job and all.’

‘Great! Maybe I’ll sponge a meal off you as well.’

Only just managing not to physically jump for joy, smiling, Sugi said, ‘Okay, okay.’

‘Great. You weren’t joking, were you? Don’t you dare change your mind later on!’

Chikako, totally thrilled that Sugi would be footing the bill, certainly wasn’t viewing this as a date. But for now that was okay.

There was no need to rush things.

On the first day of the last week of July, Satoru failed to show up for work.

It wasn’t like him – he was always so conscientious – and he hadn’t even been in touch to explain his absence. Sugi wondered what was up.

Satoru turned up an hour late.

‘I’m very sorry I’m late,’ he said, his face pale and stiff.

‘If you don’t feel well, you should take some time off,’ Chikako’s father said, but Satoru insisted he was fine.

At lunchtime, Chikako’s parents told the three of them to come back to the house. Satoru was looking paler than ever.

‘What’s wrong? Has something happened?’ they asked. But again, he obstinately insisted it was nothing, and wouldn’t say any more.

Chikako, silently watching, spoke up. ‘Has something happened to your old cat?’

Satoru’s lips tightened. He dropped his head and screwed up his eyes. Finally he allowed the tears to flow.

‘He was hit by a car,’ he muttered, his voice broken, and then he couldn’t say anything more. It seemed he’d just got the news that morning.

‘You were really fond of that cat, weren’t you?’ Chikako said, putting her arm around his shoulders, to which Satoru murmured back, ‘He was family.’

Why had he been forced to give him away? When Sugi had asked him earlier, he hadn’t responded. If the cat had been regarded as part of the family, it was even more puzzling.

If he was this grief-stricken at the news, he shouldn’t have given the cat away in the first place, thought Sugi, somewhat uncharitably. Perhaps he was a bit jealous of the other two and their shared love of cats.

‘He was the cat we had back when my parents were still alive,’ said Satoru, which put Sugi in his place. God was punishing him, he figured, for having entertained a nasty thought about his poor friend.

‘…And you hoped to be in time to see him.’ Chikako’s kind words were so full of warmth.

Why am I such a low, mean person, when all I want is to be the kind of man Chikako won’t be ashamed of? thought Sugi.

He hadn’t realized that Satoru’s parents were dead.

But even if I had known, I would never have been as sympathetic as Chikako.

‘What are you going to do about the job? Will you carry on?’ asked Sugi.

Beside him, Chikako gave him a Really? Now? type of look.

‘There’s no point in going to Kokura now,’ Satoru said, and gave a faint smile.

Chikako interrupted him. ‘You really should go. Save up your money and go over there to say goodbye.’

Satoru blinked in surprise.

‘You have to mourn your cat properly, or you won’t get over it. Don’t just sit here fretting about being too late. Go there and mourn him. Tell him you’re sorry you didn’t make it in time, that you wanted to see him.’

Sugi knew very well how deeply these words resonated with Satoru, because even he, who’d thought those mean things, was starting to tear up.

Satoru smiled, and decided to get back to work.

Towards the end of the summer holidays, Satoru set off on his trip.

When he came back again, he looked like he’d put the past to rest.

He’d brought back some souvenirs for Sugi and Chikako. For Sugi, some Hakata ramen he’d asked for, and for Chikako, for some reason, he brought back some blotting paper and a hand mirror he’d bought in Kyoto.

‘Wow! This paper is Yojiya!’

Apparently, it was some famous cosmetics brand, and Chikako was ecstatic. A friend of hers called her over and she gave a hurried ‘Thank you!’ and rushed off.

‘So you stopped in Kyoto, too?’ Sugi asked, and Satoru nodded.

‘I was on an elementary-school trip to Kyoto when my parents were killed in a car accident. My mother had asked me to buy Yojiya blotting paper as a present for her. I looked all over but never managed to find it. A friend later managed to find some and bought it for me, but I never bought it myself.’

‘What about the hand mirror?’

‘I just thought that I’d like to buy that for Chikako.’

It hurt to hear all this.

Chikako should be the one to hear this. But Sugi didn’t want her to.

He began to wish it had been somebody else who’d run into Satoru the day they rescued the Shih Tzu.

He didn’t tell Chikako what Satoru had told him about Kyoto. He suppressed his guilty conscience by convincing himself that, if Satoru really wanted her to know, he’d tell her himself.

Now, he was constantly worried that he was losing his advantage of being Chikako’s childhood friend.

She was always calling Satoru by his last name, Miyawaki, while she always called Sugi ‘Shu-chan’.

Some time passed before he saw any significance in this.

If Chikako had known Satoru’s feelings, she would, no doubt, have been drawn to him.

Unlike himself, shamefully struggling to be the kind of man Chikako could be proud of, Satoru was already there.

And there was that terrible experience he’d been through as a child.

In spite of losing his parents so young, having his precious cat taken away from him, and now not being in time to see it again, Satoru blamed no one for his troubles, didn’t see any of it as unfair.

If it were him, Sugi would give himself over to the tragedy to make it work in his favour. He would make all sorts of lazy excuses, perhaps even exploit it to attract Chikako’s affections.

How could Satoru be so relaxed and natural? The more Sugi got to know him, the more he felt driven into a corner. Satoru was a rival he would never be able to beat.

He started to feel the lesser man despite his privileged upbringing, and though he had more to be thankful for than Satoru, he began to feel dissatisfied with life. He started arguing with his parents over nothing, saying malicious things, sometimes reducing his mother to tears.

I have everything I need in life, so why am I such a mean, small person? Why can’t I be kinder than Satoru, who has so much less?

Chikako, too, had been brought up like Sugi, never lacking a thing, yet she never felt like this when she was with Satoru. She seemed to naturally enjoy being with him. And this made Sugi feel even more cornered.

If things went on like this, he knew he was going to lose Chikako. And he had loved her for so much longer!

‘I wonder if Satoru has a special girl he likes.’

These words spilled out from Chikako one day when Satoru wasn’t with them.

It was the final blow. Sugi felt crushed.

Later, Sugi found himself saying, ‘I’ve always loved Chikako. Ever since we were kids.’

This confession was directed not at Chikako but at Satoru.

Sugi had expected that when Satoru heard this, he would put a lid on any feelings he himself might have for Chikako. He had deliberately confessed his feelings to Satoru, while pretending to seek his advice.

Satoru’s eyes opened wide in surprise and, after a moment’s silence, he smiled. ‘I get it.’

You do get it, right? You, of all people, should definitely get it.

Thus Sugi neatly stopped Satoru from declaring his feelings to Chikako, and in the end Satoru stepped aside without ever saying a word about them.

In the spring of their last year in high school, Satoru changed schools. His aunt, who was his guardian, often moved around with work.

Sugi was truly sad that his friend was leaving, but all the same felt a rush of relief. At the time, he felt, Now things will be okay.

‘HOW CAN YOU be such a good person when you’ve been so unlucky?’

Sugi was grumbling away before he realized what he was doing. It was the wine they’d opened at dinner. He had thought it was a good opportunity to treat Satoru to some local wine, so he’d bought some Ajiron red. This variety had a sweet fragrance and taste, and if you didn’t watch yourself it was easy to overdo it.

Chikako was out of the room having a bath, her absence another reason Sugi had let down his guard.

Satoru smiled wryly. ‘I don’t know if I’m a good person or not. But either way, I wasn’t unlucky.’

‘What are you talking about? Are you denying that life’s treated you unfairly, and trying to make me feel bad by not admitting it?’

‘I don’t know what you mean. The wine must have gone to your head. Try sobering up a bit before Chikako finishes her bath.’ Satoru pulled the wine bottle out of Sugi’s reach.

WE CATS GET all limp and squishy when we have catnip; for humans, wine seems to do the trick.

Satoru would occasionally drink alcohol at home. He’d down a few while watching one of those games with balls that humans like – baseball or soccer – and start feeling happy, and soon tumble sideways on to the floor.

If I inadvertently passed near him, he’d grab me and hug me to his face, saying ‘Nana-cha–n’ in a syrupy voice, and I couldn’t stand it. So I tried to keep my distance. Plus he stank of alcohol.

There had been times when he drank away from the house and came back smelling of liquor, but he was always in a good mood. So I used to be convinced that when humans drank it always made them cheerful. Like catnip for cats.

I’d never encountered someone like Sugi, who got all gloomy and moody when he drank. When Chikako went to have a bath, he suddenly started pouting at Satoru, almost like he was cowering before him.

If drinking isn’t fun, then why do it? I was hanging off the top of the TV in the sitting room, eyeing the two men as they talked, until Satoru finally removed the bottle of wine from the table.

By the way, I became really fond of the TV there. Ours at home was thin and flat like a board, but the one there was more of a box, very enticing for a cat. Plus, it was faintly warm, and made my tummy feel toasty. Fantastic in the winter, I imagined.

It’s really old, Momo told me. In the past, all TVs were this shape, apparently. Going from this perfect design to an impractical flat shape is, if you ask me, a step backwards, technology-wise.

Momo told me that you could tell how old a cat was by whether or not they knew about these boxy TVs. In that house, Chikako gave priority to making things comfortable for cats and she dismissed the idea of getting one of the flat TVs. A splendid decision, in my opinion.

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 from 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 definitive 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.

The silver van gave a little beep of its horn before turning a corner, sending dust into the air and leaving the bed and breakfast far behind.

‘It would have been perfect if they could have looked after you.’

There you go again, Satoru. That’s just sour grapes. Mount Fuji’s now well behind us.

If you intend to come and fetch me back one day, then you shouldn’t leave me there in the first place.

I was standing on my hind legs and pawing the top of the back seat to see out of the rear window, and Satoru laughed. ‘The sea might not have been your cup of tea, but you do seem to have taken a liking to Mount Fuji.’

’Cause Mount Fuji doesn’t make that belly-shaking roar, and doesn’t have that perpetual motion that’ll swallow me up.

‘I hope we can see it again together. Yeah, let’s do that someday. And let’s visit Sugi and Chikako again. We had such a nice view of Mount Fuji from our bedroom, and also – you liked that old picture-tube TV, too, didn’t you?’

Yes, that’s the ticket! That box-shaped TV was perfect. Just the right size to lie down, all toasty warm. Say, Satoru, what if we were to get a box-shaped TV like that?

‘Sorry that ours is the thin type. They don’t sell tube TVs any more.’

Ah, such a pity.

But that’s okay. I can think of it as a special attraction for when we visit the Sugis next time.

And one other thing: the next time we visit, I bet you Toramaru will wag his tail at us.

IN THE EVENING, a reservation came in at the bed and breakfast for that night.

‘Maybe we should keep Toramaru tied up.’

‘True, he might still be worked up because of his fight with Nana.’

Sugi took Toramaru outside and chained him to the kennel. Then he turned to Chikako, who had followed him.

‘About what Satoru said a little while ago…’

‘What? Are you bothered by that?’ Chikako asked.

Ouch. That hit home. ‘No, it’s not that,’ Sugi stammered. ‘I was just wondering how you would have taken it if Satoru had told you he liked you when we were still in high school.’

‘Who knows?’ Chikako said, shrugging. ‘Unless we could go back in time, I don’t know how I would have reacted.’

A spot-on answer, to which he had no reply.

‘It might have been nice, though, to be a young girl wavering between the affections of two boys.’

‘Wavering?’

This took him by surprise and he couldn’t help but ask her what she meant.

‘Of course I would have wavered.’ Chikako laughed. ‘If I’d had two boys liking me at the same time, then that would definitely have piqued my interest.’

Sugi felt like weeping, but managed to control himself.

I don’t know which of us two she would have chosen, he thought. But at least I was included in the line-up.

And he felt his sense of inferiority and jealousy diminish a little.

The next time I see Satoru, I know I can be a much better friend.

Now that is a happy thought.