The Travelling Cat Chronicles

4 HOW NORIKO LEARNED TO LOVE

IN HER PREVIOUS job, Noriko had often been posted to new places, so she was used to moving. She would take what she needed out of the cardboard boxes, steadily unpacking, always in the same order. When two or three boxes had been emptied, she would flatten them to give herself more space.

She had never liked to clutter her life with household objects, so she never had many boxes to unpack.

A wall clock emerged from a box she’d just opened. The hands showed it was midday. She hadn’t yet unpacked a hook to hang it on, so she placed it on the sofa in the living room. Every time she unpacked after a move, she reminded herself to pack a hook with the clock next time, but every time she forgot.

Afraid she’d lose it somewhere, whenever she moved, she’d put her phone in her pocket, and now it was vibrating. An email.

It was from Satoru Miyawaki, her nephew. The child her older sister had left behind. Miyawaki had been her sister’s husband’s last name.

I’m Sorry, read the subject heading; it was ornamented with a cute little emoji.

I’d hoped to arrive in the early afternoon, but it looks like it’ll be later. Sorry to leave you to unpack everything yourself.

He said he was going to pay a visit to his mother and father’s graves. He must have lost track of time there.

She typed in a subject for her reply: Understood. In the body of the message she wrote: Everything’s fine here. Drive carefully.

After she sent it, she began to feel a little anxious. Had her reply been a bit curt? It wouldn’t be good for Satoru to think she’d written a cold reply because she was angry with him for arriving late.

She opened the message she’d just sent and re-read it. They were both just short messages but, compared to the warmth in his, hers came across as rather blunt. Maybe she should add something?

She typed PS and was going to add a new message, but nothing light and chatty came to her. Still agonizing over it, she finally typed, Don’t rush, or you’ll have an accident, and sent it. But a moment later she regretted it, just like she had the last one.

Desperate to recover from this second mistake, she sent a third email. PPS, she typed. I’m worried you’ll be concerned about being late and drive too fast. As soon as she sent it, she realized she’d got her priorities all wrong, since sending so many messages to him while he was driving might distract him from driving safely, the opposite of her intention.

Just then, another message came in. From Satoru. The title read (Laughing). She breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank you for being so concerned. I’ll take you up on your offer and take my time.

And another emoji at the end, a waving hand.

Worn out by her own indecisiveness, Noriko plonked herself down on the sofa. Her nephew was more than twenty-five years younger than she was, and how were they going to get on if she forced him to respond to each and every tiny little thing?

But it had always been this way between the two of them. Ever since her older sister and brother-in-law had died and she’d taken on the twelve-year-old boy they had left behind.

Her sister had always done her best for Noriko, and Noriko had tried to do the same for the son. But she could never shake off the feeling that all she’d ever done for him was to provide for him financially.

Her sister had been eight years older than her.

Noriko’s mother had died when she was very young, so she could barely remember her, and her father had passed away when she was in her first year of high school. So, for Noriko, her sister had been her sole guardian.

When her father died, Noriko had said she wouldn’t go on to college, but her sister had insisted that she did, arguing that it was a waste if she didn’t, as she was so bright. After her older sister graduated from high school, she had worked at the local farmer’s co-op, and it seemed she had given a lot of thought to the question of whether Noriko should go to college. Even if their father had still been alive, the family’s financial situation would have made it difficult for both girls to go.

In the spring, when Noriko passed the exam to go and study law, the specialism she had chosen herself, straight after high school, her sister had been transferred from their hometown to Sapporo. Noriko’s college was outside Hokkaido, so this meant that both of them were leaving their hometown. Her older sister had used this opportunity to sell off every piece of farmland and the woodlands her father had owned.

Selling it off piece by piece, her sister had explained, wouldn’t bring in much money. Up until then, they’d been renting the land out to a neighbouring farmer, but the income was minimal. Selling it all as one lot would bring in a fair amount of money, enough to cover Noriko’s tuition fees and living expenses.

At first, they had been reluctant to sell the house they’d grown up in, and had rented it out, but by the time Noriko graduated from college her older sister had let this go as well. Her sister had married and the sale would raise money for Noriko’s remaining tuition fees. It wouldn’t do for her sister’s new family to have to continue supporting her.

Her sister always used to apologize for not having waited to get married until after Noriko had graduated. But Noriko knew how patiently her new brother-in-law had waited to marry her sister. He’d been transferred away from Hokkaido in his job and had proposed to her before he was due to leave.

That was the official reason, but there was another reason her sister couldn’t reveal. The young man’s family was opposed to him marrying this woman who not only had no parents but was supporting her younger sister. His family were well off, and knowing her older sister was struggling financially, they had decided she was after their money.

They’d set up any number of omiai, arranged meetings with other women, trying to get their son to leave her, and truth be told, it had been hard for both of them to resist the pressure.

Noriko was glad her brother-in-law was not the kind of man to buckle under pressure from his family and leave her sister. She was grateful to him for this, and it never crossed her mind to oppose her sister’s marriage.

‘But, sis,’ she argued, ‘can’t we at least keep the old house?’

‘No one wants to rent it any more. And it’s getting really run-down. The person we’re renting to now said if we sell it to him he’ll renovate it, but otherwise they’ll move out.’

‘That’s not a bad offer…’

‘Both of us live outside Hokkaido and we can’t afford the upkeep of an empty house. If we pay for the renovations, we might be able to find a new person to rent it, but financially it’ll be tough. And an empty house wouldn’t survive the winter snows.’

Her sister had never explained the situation to her before, and for the first time Noriko had understood that she had always done her best to provide her with everything she needed.

She had hoped one day to repay her sister for all she’d done for her. But well before she could, her sister and her brother-in-law were gone for ever.

At the very least, she wanted to do her best for the son they’d left behind, Satoru. That was what she had hoped, but, from the very start, she didn’t feel she had managed to keep that particular ball in the air.

And it would all end with her never having done enough for Satoru either.

Sis, I am so very, very sorry.

I don’t think I ever made Satoru happy.

All I do is make him worry over trivial things like this. The email with the title (Laughing). He joked around, but you could sense the tender concern that was so typical of Satoru.

Ever since she had started looking after him, Satoru had been a reasonable, very perceptive, mature child. But was this really his true nature?

Her sister had always insisted he was a mischievous boy who gave her a lot of trouble, though she’d always smiled when she said this.

And it was true that, while his parents were still alive, Satoru had been pretty naughty. When Noriko went on the occasional visit, she had found him big-hearted and self-assured, as children who know how fiercely they are loved often are. ‘Auntie, Auntie,’ he’d say, clinging to her, and sometimes he’d throw a tantrum or sulk.

A typical child, in other words, yet when he came to live with her he never once acted selfishly. This seemed less because his parents’ death had forced him to mature quickly than because Noriko had compelled him to be that way.

She had no idea how to overcome the distance she’d created between herself and the young Satoru, and she generally relied on him to paper over her sense of estrangement.

I hope he can at least spend these last days free of worry. She truly felt that way, and yet she couldn’t even do a decent job of exchanging a few emails with her nephew.

At least, Noriko thought, as she got up from her short rest on the sofa, at least I can get everything in order here before Satoru arrives. She might be lousy at sorting out the subtleties of other people’s feelings, but even an obstinate, unsociable person like her could buckle down and get the job done when she had to.

It was nearly three o’clock when Satoru finally drove up to the apartment.

‘Sorry, Aunt Noriko, for being so late.’

‘Don’t worry. I get things done faster by myself.’

She’d meant to respond lightly to his apology, but Satoru looked a little embarrassed. Seeing his expression, she realized that, yet again, she’d said the wrong thing.

‘I have no problem at all with us living together. I’m your legal guardian, after all.’ She’d hurriedly added this, but again it was something that would have been better left unsaid. The more she tried to explain herself, the faster her speech became.

‘The only things left unpacked are yours, Satoru. I put the boxes in your room. I’ve pretty much finished putting everything else away, so you don’t need to help with that.’

When she saw Satoru’s face, as he looked at her, blinking in surprise, she realized she’d been firing off one comment after another without giving him a chance to respond.

‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m the same as ever…’

Her shoulders slumped dejectedly, and Satoru suddenly let out a small laugh.

‘I’m glad you haven’t changed, Aunt Noriko. We haven’t lived together for thirteen years and, to be honest, I’ve been feeling a bit nervous about it.’

Satoru then put the bag he had slung across his shoulder on the floor, and with both hands placed the basket carefully beside it.

‘Nana, this is your new home.’

He opened the basket door and a cat leapt right out. The cat had markings shaped like the character for eight on his forehead, and a black hooked tail. Other than that, it was pure white. She had the feeling that the cat Satoru had had years ago, the one they’d had to give away when she took her nephew in, had looked similar.

The cat had its nose to the ground, sniffing tentatively.

‘I’m sorry that taking me has meant taking in Nana as well.’ Satoru frowned. ‘I was hoping to find a place for him before we started living together, but I just couldn’t find a decent new owner. Though a number of people did offer.’

‘It’s quite all right.’

‘But it’s meant you’ve had to move into a new apartment.’

He’d told her he would find someone to take Nana before he moved out of his place in Tokyo, but that hadn’t worked out, so here he was, cat in tow. Noriko had moved out of the apartment she was in, which forbade pets, and had found a new place that allowed them.

This new apartment was also in a good location, convenient for Satoru’s visits to the hospital.

‘Ah, I see you found something nice, Nana.’

Satoru narrowed his eyes as he looked at the cat. Noriko looked over, too, and saw that the cat was sniffing around one of the cardboard boxes that had yet to be flattened.

‘Why does he like that box, I wonder?’ To Noriko, it was just a cardboard box.

‘Cats like empty boxes and paper bags. And narrow spaces, too.’

Satoru squatted down next to the cat, and Noriko noticed how thin his neck was, like an old man’s, far too small for the collar of his shirt.

And he’s still so young.

Noriko felt a sharp pain deep in her nose and hurried off to the kitchen.

As she was more than twenty-five years older than Satoru, she felt it would have made more sense if she’d gone first.

‘I’m really sorry, Aunt Noriko.’

She recalled the day of that desperate phone call. A test had revealed a malignant tumour. He needed an operation immediately.

She’d travelled to Tokyo first thing. The doctor wasn’t optimistic, and with each word he spoke, it felt as if all hope was fading.

Best to operate right away, she was told, and though they did, the operation turned out to be ineffective. Tumours had spread throughout his body and all they could do was close up the areas they’d cut open.

One year left to live.

After the surgery, Satoru had lain in the hospital ward, smiling with embarrassment.

‘I’m sorry, Aunt Noriko.’

There he goes again.

She half told him off for apologizing. Satoru said he was sorry again, and was about to apologize for saying sorry, but swallowed back the words.

Satoru decided to leave his job, move from Tokyo and live with Noriko. When he finally had to be hospitalized, Noriko would go to the hospital to look after him.

Noriko worked as a judge in Sapporo but had stepped down from her job in order to be with Satoru. Judges are constantly being transferred and, if she hadn’t stepped down, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t be transferred just as Satoru was breathing his last. Taking advantage of her connections, she found a job as a lawyer in a law firm in Sapporo.

Satoru worried about Noriko having to change jobs, but she had been thinking all along of working as a lawyer after the mandatory retirement age for a judge. This just speeded things up a bit.

In fact, she regretted not having thought about changing jobs long ago, when she had first started looking after Satoru.

If she was able to leave her position as a judge now, she could have done so back then. Back when Satoru was at an impressionable age, she’d forced him to transfer to a new school repeatedly, yanking him away from friends and places he’d grown comfortable in.

If he’s going to leave this world at such a young age, she thought, the least I could have done was to give him a happier childhood.

Holding back the tears, she pretended to be straightening things up in the kitchen. Just then, Satoru called out to her from the other room.

‘Aunt Noriko, is it okay if we leave one small cardboard box and don’t flatten it? Nana really seems to like it.’

‘When he gets tired of it, be sure to put it away.’

She said this intentionally loudly so he wouldn’t notice the tears in her voice.

‘Did you find the parking spot okay?’ she went on.

She’d rented one space in the basement parking area for Satoru to park his van.

‘I did. Number seven, on the corner. Did you pick number seven especially for me?’

Satoru seemed so pleased it was the same number as his cat’s name.

‘Not really. I thought the corner spot would be easy to find, that’s all.’

Then she went ahead and asked a silly question.

‘So Nana’s name comes from nana – seven?’

‘That’s right. His tail is hooked like the number seven.’

Satoru went to pick Nana up and show him to his aunt, but the cat was nowhere to be seen. ‘Nana?’ he called, puzzled.

‘EEEEEK!’ This shriek emanated from Noriko. Something soft was rubbing against her calf.

She dropped the pan she was holding and it clattered loudly to the floor. She shrieked again as something small and furry scampered away.

Satoru scooped up the cat and burst out laughing. It seemed Noriko’s shriek wasn’t totally unexpected.

He spluttered painfully, he was laughing so much.

‘You don’t much like cats, but now you’ve got one in your own home.’

‘It’s not that I dislike them, I just don’t know how to handle them,’ she protested. Once, when she was little, she’d gone to stroke a stray cat and had been badly bitten. Her right hand – the one she had thoughtlessly touched the cat with – had swelled up to twice its usual size, and ever since then cats had been on her list of things she couldn’t handle.

A sudden thought occurred to her. At what point had Satoru found out about her aversion to cats?

‘But please understand that it wasn’t because of my issues with cats that I didn’t let you keep that cat all that time ago.’

‘I know. I understand.’

When she’d taken Satoru in, they had to give up the cat because her job meant she was transferred so often. Most of the housing they lived in was provided by the government and didn’t allow pets.

But if she had liked cats, would she have kept it? If she herself had been fond of animals – not just cats – would she have better understood the feelings of a child who had to be separated from his beloved pet?

When Satoru was on a junior-high-school trip to Fukuoka, he’d snuck out of the hotel one night. The teachers had caught him at the station, he was given a strict reprimand and his guardian was contacted, and when this happened Noriko had been shocked.

Had he been trying to visit the cat he’d had to give away? The distant relatives who had taken in the cat lived in Kokura, one stop away from Hakata on the Shinkansen train. Once Satoru had meekly mentioned wanting to see the cat, but she’d told him it was out of the question since she was too busy. As far as Noriko was concerned, the matter of the cat was settled. Now that they had someone they could trust to care for it, there was no need to travel so far just to see it.

Noriko felt a sudden rush of regret.

‘I’m really sorry I didn’t understand back then how much you loved that cat, Satoru. I should have taken the cat in like this for you when you were a child.’

‘Hachi was well taken care of until the very end, and that’s good enough. Because you found decent people to take care of him.’

Satoru stroked Nana, who was curled up on his lap, gently stroking each paw with the tips of his fingers and circling the central spot on his head.

‘But Nana scuppered all the relationships at every home I was trying to make for him. You’ve really helped us by letting me bring him with me now.’

Satoru held Nana’s head in two gentle hands and pointed his face towards Noriko.

‘Nana, you get on nicely with Aunt Noriko now, okay?’

YOU CAN TELL me to get on with her, but I’m still feeling a bit cross.

The reason is, Noriko is kind of rude. I’m going to live here with Satoru, and I just thought we should get on, so all I did was go ahead and say hello.

Rubbing yourself against someone’s legs is the best a cat can do when it comes to a warm greeting, so what was with the big squeal, that ‘EEEEEK!’? It gave me the fright of my life! Sounded like she’d run into a ghost on a dark night.

Well, she is taking in both Satoru and me, so I suppose I can overlook it.

Our first meeting was a disaster, but our new life with Noriko began nonetheless.

Noriko was the type of person who had no clue at all about cats, and it took us a while to find the appropriate distance to keep from each other.

‘Good morning, Nana.’

In her own way, she tried to get used to me, and she started timidly reaching out a hand to me as she said hello. But what was she thinking, suddenly touching my tail like that? I mean, unless you’re a special pal of mine, I’m not about to let anyone touch my tail. Normally, I’d give them a good whack – claws in, obviously – if they tried, but out of respect to the head of the household I confined myself to scowling and lowering my tail out of the way.

I hoped Noriko would get the message, but every time she reached out to touch me she inevitably zoomed in on my tail.

One particular morning, Satoru happened to see this and came to my rescue.

‘You can’t do that, Aunt Noriko, touching his tail all of a sudden like that. Nana hates it.’

‘Then where should I touch him?’

‘Start with his head, or behind his ears. When he gets used to you doing that, then you can do under his chin.’

A toothbrush in his other hand, Satoru demonstrated, stroking each area in turn around my head.

‘The head, behind the ears, under the chin…’

You won’t believe this, but as Noriko repeated these instructions, she took notes!

‘Do you really need to take notes?’ Satoru laughed.

Noriko was deadly serious. ‘I don’t want to forget,’ she replied.

‘Instead of notes, it would be better to practise by stroking him.’

‘B-but it’s near his mouth.’

So what if it’s near my mouth?

‘What if he bites me?’

The impertinence! You have the nerve to speak to me like that? A gentleman who, in spite of you suddenly touching his tail, refrained from swatting you? And you aimed for my tail more than just a couple of times!

What you said just now, now that deserves a bite.

‘It’s okay. Try it.’

At Satoru’s urging, Noriko very timidly reached out a hand. If that didn’t deserve a bite, I didn’t know what did. However, I’m a grown-up cat and I restrained myself, so, everyone, feel free to shower me with praise.

Still, I now understood why she always went for my tail. To Noriko’s way of thinking, it was the furthest point from my mouth. Though, in actual fact, all animals will react more quickly if you touch their tails or back rather than hold your hand out right in front of them.

‘He’s so soft.’

I’d always prided myself on having fur as soft as velvet.

‘See? He likes it.’

To be honest, Noriko’s touch was awkward and not all that pleasant, but to help train her I was quite willing to pretend that it was. Plus, I certainly didn’t want her targeting my tail each and every time.

‘Eeek!’

Noriko screeched and pulled back her hand. I shrank back, too. What on earth?

‘His throat! The bone in his throat is going up and down. Yuck!’

This is impertinence squared! The way you touch me doesn’t even feel that good. I’m only purring to make you feel better about it!

‘Not to worry,’ Satoru explained. ‘When he feels good, he purrs.’

As a rule, that is. This is an exception. I’m forcing myself here to give you a treat, so don’t you forget it.

‘But it’s coming from all the way down his throat,’ Noriko said.

Noriko rubbed my throat with the side of her finger.

‘Where did you think it would come from, if not the throat?’

‘I thought it came from the mouth,’ she replied.

Purring from my mouth? What are you, an imbecile?! Excuse me – the shock has made my language deteriorate. A thousand pardons.

Noriko stopped stroking me, so I stopped purring and popped into the cardboard box that had been placed specially for me in a corner of the living room.

This cardboard box that Satoru had left out for me fitted nice and tight and was really quite cosy.

‘Satoru, how long do we have to keep that box there?’

‘Nana likes it, so leave it there for a while.’

‘But I don’t like it; it feels like we’re not totally unpacked. I mean, I bought him a nice cat bed and a scratching post.’

A box is totally different from a bed and a post, I’ll have you know.

In this way, Noriko grew used to the presence of a cat in her house.

‘How’s this, then?’

Noriko said this the other day while bringing in what I took to be a replacement for the cardboard box, which by now was looking pretty shabby, what with me sharpening my claws on it.

She’d taken another cardboard box, opened it up and made it wider and shallower, then reinforced it with tape.

‘This one is newer and wider,’ she said. ‘I’ve made it with two layers of cardboard so it’ll last longer when he sharpens his claws on it. So what do you say to getting rid of that tattered old box? The corners are all bent out of shape where Nana’s been sleeping.’

‘Hmmm… I’m not sure.’ Satoru shot me a glance. What do you think?

I yawned back. Sorry. Zero interest. Noriko just doesn’t get it. A wide box spoils all the fun; it offers none of the charms of being inside a box.

Ignoring Noriko’s creation, I slipped inside the old box, and Noriko looked deflated. Satoru laughed. ‘Maybe it was better not to alter the box. Next time we get a cardboard box, how about just leaving it as it is?’

‘But I did all that work on it.’

A waste of time. Cats the world over prefer to discover things they like on their own and rarely go for anything that’s been provided for them.

For a while after this, Noriko’s box sat there forlornly beside the old box, but before long it was put out with the recycling.

Satoru began to visit the hospital nearly every day. It was nearby, within walking distance, but he’d go there first thing in the morning and often not get back home until evening. Maybe there was lots of queuing, or the tests and treatment took a long time.

Satoru had lots of marks from all the injections on his right arm, bluish-black bruises that didn’t fade, and soon his left arm was the same. I only get one vaccination shot a year, and I hate it, so I was amazed that Satoru could put up with getting a million of them.

And yet, no matter how often he went to the hospital, his smell didn’t get any better. As several dogs and cats had told me earlier, that doesn’t smell like he’s got much longer scent was only getting stronger.

No creatures ever get better once they have that smell.

Sometimes, Noriko cried in secret, weeping gently beside the kitchen sink or in the bathroom. The only one who knew about it was me. She forced herself never to cry in front of Satoru, but she didn’t think to include a cat in the equation.

When I rubbed against her legs after that, she didn’t scream any more. And I was beginning to feel her appreciation when she fondled the back of my neck.

The town was completely white with snow, the mountain ashes that lined the streets even redder as they endured the freezing cold.

‘Nana, let’s go for a walk.’

Satoru’s strength had faded, so much so that on the days when he went to the hospital he’d sleep for the rest of the day, but still he never missed out on our walks together.

It was freezing and slippery, but except for when he was at the hospital longer than usual or when there was a snowstorm, we went for a walk every day.

‘You’ve never been through a winter in a place with so much snow, have you, Nana?’

The street was icy and the pads of my feet skidded on it. Icicles hung from the eaves of the buildings. The snow pushed up by the snowploughs looked like millefeuille pastry piled up along the streets.

Sparrows huddled in rows on the power lines. Dogs cheerfully ploughed their way through snow banks in the park. Cats in the town quietly slipped into the few spots that would keep them out of the cold: sheds, garages, warm kitchens.

There were still a lot of things the two of us had never seen before.

‘My, what a cute cat. Out for a walk?’

It was a bright, clear day, and a charming old lady at the park had called out to us.

‘What’s his name?’

‘He’s called Nana. After the shape of his tail, like a seven.’

Satoru hadn’t changed. He was still the same cat-loving guy, intent on explaining the origins of my name to every passer-by.

‘He’s very well behaved, isn’t he, walking beside you like that?’ said the old lady.

‘He certainly is.’

After we’d said goodbye, Satoru picked me up, his fingers, no longer strong and broad but thinning and fragile, finding their way around my belly.

‘You are very well behaved, so I know you’ll be a good boy from now on.’

From now on? When hadn’t I been a good boy? Kind of impolite to have to make sure of that now, don’t you think?

The streets were filled with festive lights, and, as if that weren’t enough, Christmas adverts spilled out of TVs everywhere. In the evening, Satoru and Noriko ate Christmas cake, and they gave me some tuna sashimi, to which I was more than a little partial. The next morning, all their energy turned to preparing for New Year.

On New Year’s Day, they gave me some chicken breast, but after sniffing it a few times I kicked sand on top of it. There was no actual sand there, of course, so it was only air sand.

‘What’s wrong, Nana? Don’t you like it?’

Satoru looked puzzled. I would have loved to have eaten it, but it smelled funny.

‘Aunt Noriko, is this chicken the same kind you always give him?’

‘Well, given the occasion, I splashed out. I steamed some special local free-range chicken.’

‘Did you add something to it when you steamed it?’

‘I poured in a bit of sake so it wouldn’t smell so much.’

Humph. I rest my case, Noriko.

‘Sorry, but it seems like Nana can’t eat it because it smells like sake now.’

‘Really? It was only a couple of drops.’

‘Cats have an excellent sense of smell.’

‘I thought that was dogs? Six thousand times more sensitive than humans, they say.’

Noriko’s not a bad sort, but at times like this she tends to overthink things. It’s true that dogs are known for their great sense of smell, but that doesn’t mean cats don’t have a good nose. I mean, no one needs a sense of smell six thousand times better than humans to discern that sake has been sprinkled on a chicken breast.

‘Cats are way more sensitive to smell than humans as well.’

Satoru was in the kitchen, and he prepared my usual safe, high-quality chicken breast and brought it over to me on a clean plate, taking away the chicken that had had those unnecessary things done to it.

‘That sake-steamed meat, I’ll put it in my ozoni.’

Noriko let out a deep sigh.

‘Until Nana came here, I never would have imagined that a person would eat a cat’s leftovers.’

‘It happens sometimes when you have a cat. And these aren’t leftovers. He didn’t touch it, so it’s perfectly safe.’

Satoru put the meat in his bowl of ozoni soup as a topping.

‘What will people think if they hear I gave you something to eat that even a cat wouldn’t touch? Please don’t mention it to anyone.’

‘Anybody who has a cat will understand.’

Satoru and Noriko then said ‘Happy New Year’ to each other and started eating their ozoni.

‘Nana’s only been here three months, but in that time I’ve found that cats really are odd creatures.’

Ah, so that’s how you think of me, and we’re barely into the New Year? I’ll have you know, that’s the kind of rudeness I simply can’t overlook.

‘And that box…’

The cardboard box was still in the corner of the living room. Noriko had resentfully let it be known that she wanted to toss it out before the New Year.

‘A new one would be so much better…’

Sorry to tell you this, but you’re missing the point.

‘And why does he go into a box that’s clearly too small for him? It’s obvious it’s not big enough.’

Hit a sore spot, why don’t you?

‘The other day he thrust his front paw into a jewellery case.’

‘Yep, that’s the way cats are.’ Satoru nodded happily.

‘And once he tried putting his paw in a tiny box that had contained a watch.’

What can I say? It’s instinct, pure and simple. Cats are always looking for a nice cosy space that will fit just right.

So when I spy a nice square box that’s slightly open, instinct doesn’t allow me to let it go. Because maybe – just maybe – if I stick my paw inside, some device in there might make it expand? ’Course, up till now, I haven’t had any luck at all with that.

Though I do hear there’s a cat in some cold foreign country who keeps on opening doors, thinking that, eventually, one of them will lead to summer.

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t eat any more.’

Satoru laid his chopsticks down. For a moment, I saw a sad look cross Noriko’s face. She had only put one omochi in Satoru’s bowl. And he had barely touched the lavish spread of New Year’s delicacies she’d bought specially at a department store.

‘It was delicious. My mum always used to include taro root, snow peas and carrots in her ozoni. And the way you season it is like the way Mum did it, too.’

‘That’s because, for me, my sister’s cooking was the taste of home.’

‘I remember when I first came to live with you, how relieved I was to find that the food tasted like Mum’s cooking. I think that’s why I got used to living with you so quickly.’ Satoru smiled broadly. ‘I’m glad you’re the one who looked after me.’

Noriko gasped, as if surprised, and avoided his eyes. She looked down and murmured, ‘I… I wasn’t such a good guardian. If you had gone to live with someone else, maybe it would have been bet—’

‘I’m glad you’re the one who took me in,’ said Satoru, ignoring her words.

Noriko gulped again, her throat pulsing like a frog’s. Now who was it, when they first met me, who freaked out about my throat making a funny sound? Hm? That’s a pretty funny sound you’re making yourself, if you don’t mind me saying.

‘But that thing I said to you, when I first took you in.’

‘I was going to find out some day. You didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘But…’ Noriko sniffled as she continued to look down. Still gulping over and over like a frog, and in between gulps murmuring, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ over and over.

‘I shouldn’t have said that to you.’

Her voice had become husky.

WHEN NORIKO HEARD the news of her sister and brother-in-law’s deaths, she went to the funeral intent on taking Satoru in, even though she was single. Satoru was the one thing her sister would have been worried about and Noriko was determined to do whatever she could for him.

Relatives from her brother-in-law’s side of the family made a token appearance at the funeral and left without touching on the issue of what was to be done with Satoru at all.

And on her side of the family there was no one else willing to take the decision to have him. When Noriko said she would, some of them were worried, saying a woman on her own might not be able to manage. Most of them suggested putting the boy in foster care.

Satoru was her sister’s and brother-in-law’s child. If he had no relatives, that would be one thing, but since there was a relative who had the financial resources to take him in, she would be shirking her duty if she put him into foster care, so she insisted, in spite of the resistance.

The funeral ended, the estate was settled and, soon afterwards, Noriko adopted Satoru. She told him:

‘You’re going to find out eventually, so I’m going to go ahead and tell you now. Satoru, you are not related by blood to your father or your mother.’

Reality is reality. That was her way of thinking, but when she saw the look on Satoru’s face when she told him, she realized she’d made a big mistake.

Satoru grew pale, and his face contorted in shock.

It was the same blank look he had had after his parents’ deaths. As he approached the two coffins set up in the local community centre, he’d looked as if he had lost everything he had in the world.

Even a tactless person like her knew instantly that in a matter of seconds, because of her, Satoru had lost everything all over again.

When his friends came for the wake, he cried for the first time. Afterwards, the expression on his face slowly returned to normal.

The realization that she had done something unspeakable upset her terribly.

‘Then who are my real father and mother?’ Satoru asked.

‘Your real mother and father are indeed my sister and her husband. The others are just your birth parents.’

Obviously, Satoru had done nothing wrong, but still she spoke like this, as if scolding him. She was so confused, she couldn’t control herself.

‘Your real parents are my sister and her husband; your birth parents merely gave birth to you. They were utterly irresponsible and they were going to let you die when you were a baby.’

This had been Noriko’s first big case as a judge. The couple had been quite young. It was more than a criminal case of child abandonment; it was so extreme that the birth parents had been charged with attempted murder. They’d stopped feeding the baby until he was no longer able even to cry, then had wrapped him in a black plastic bag and thrown him out on the day the rubbish was due to be collected. A neighbour had grown suspicious when he spotted the plastic bag moving and ripped it open. The couple had been walking away when the neighbour reported them.

The trial ended, and Satoru’s birth parents were given the prison terms they deserved, but there was nowhere to place Satoru. The only option left was an orphanage.

The whole case had almost been too much for Noriko. Imposing a punishment that befitted the crime – that she could do, but it did nothing to secure a future for the innocent baby.

Her sister had been the one who helped her cope with this ordeal. It was a major case, and her sister had been following it since the start.

‘People should really go through a vetting process in order to get married,’ Noriko had grumbled at the time. ‘If couples with kids were all like you and your husband, sis, then this type of crime would never happen.’

Just as she said this, she felt a cold trickle of sweat run down her back. After her sister had got married, she’d found out she wasn’t able to have children. The criticism from her husband’s family had been hurtful, and her husband had distanced himself from them, yet even so her sister remained anxious.

It was soon after this that Noriko’s sister told her that she wanted to adopt Satoru. Just before he was due to be sent to an orphanage.

‘It’s because you told me we would be good parents,’ she had said, smiling.

Satoru had been devastated by the news.

‘Your birth parents just gave birth to you, that’s all,’ Noriko had reassured him. ‘Your real parents were my sister and brother-in-law. So it was my duty to take you in.’

Noriko had said this to put Satoru’s mind at ease, but she had instantly regretted using the word ‘duty’. It sounded so stiff and formal.

‘Satoru, you don’t need to worry about a thing,’ she had added, in an attempt to make up for it.

The criticism her male relatives had of Noriko – that she needed to be more careful about what she said – was spot on. From the very beginning, she’d got it all wrong with Satoru, telling him things she never should have.

‘That’s why she can’t find a husband,’ they had said. And, she thought now, they were probably quite right. At the time, she’d had a boyfriend, but soon after she adopted Satoru they split up. Her boyfriend seemed upset that she hadn’t consulted him before making the decision.

‘Why didn’t you talk to me about this?’ he had reproached her, and she had explained that, since Satoru was her nephew, she hadn’t thought she needed to.

At that moment, the barriers had gone up, and she knew it. It seemed that, once again, she’d been incredibly insensitive.

Learning to have some insight into other people’s sensitivities was, she concluded, more difficult than mastering the law.

The cat that Satoru had owned ended up being taken in by a distant relative.

This relative – such a distant relation that Noriko didn’t feel at all close to him – had tousled Satoru’s hair and said, ‘Don’t worry. Everyone in our family loves cats, so we’ll take good care of him.’

Satoru had given him a cheerful look and nodded. Not once since the day his parents died had Satoru looked at her in that way.

Occasionally, this relative would send them a photo of the cat. But before long, these letters became few and far between, though the annual New Year’s card from them always had a photo of Hachi printed on it and a short message: Hachi’s doing well!

The family were considerate enough to let them know when Hachi died, and when Satoru went to visit the grave they welcomed him warmly.

Maybe Satoru would have been happier if they had taken him in, too – even now, the thought occurred to her sometimes. When all the other relatives had hesitated to take in this child to whom they had no blood ties, this family had said, ‘If only we had the means, we’d have liked to help out.’ They had other children already, quite a lot in those days. ‘It’s a question of money, you know,’ they’d said, smiling awkwardly.

But couldn’t they have taken Satoru, if Noriko had helped them out financially? Was taking him in herself just egotistical, all about her not wanting to give up the one thing her sister had left behind?

She had thought about all these things for the longest time.

Noriko had started to weep.

‘I think you would have been much happier if your relative in Kokura had adopted you.’

‘Why?’ Satoru blinked in surprise. ‘He’s a nice man and everything, but I’m glad you took me in, Aunt Noriko.’

Now it was her turn to ask why.

‘Well, you’re my mother’s younger sister. You’re the one who can tell me the most about my parents.’

‘But right after they died, I went and told you that awful thing—’

Satoru cut her off. ‘I was pretty shocked when I heard that, I grant you. But because you told me that, I was able to appreciate just how happy I’d been with them.’

Noriko looked dubious. Satoru laughed.

‘I never, ever thought they weren’t my real parents. That’s how much they treated me like their own child. Though my birth parents didn’t want me, another man and woman loved me that much – I mean, you don’t find such incredible love very often.’

That’s why I’m so happy. Satoru had said this to me, his face beaming, many times.

I GET IT. Having had Satoru take me in as his cat, I think I felt as lucky as he did.

Strays, by definition, have been abandoned or left behind, but Satoru rescued me when I broke my leg.

He made me the happiest cat on earth.

I’ll always remember those five years we had together. And I’ll forever go by the name Nana, the name that – let’s face it – is pretty unusual for a male cat.

The town where Satoru grew up, too, I would remember that.

And the green seedlings swaying in the fields.

The sea, with its frighteningly loud roar.

Mount Fuji, looming over us.

How cosy it felt on top of that boxy TV.

That wonderful lady cat, Momo.

That nervy but earnest hound, Toramaru.

That huge white ferry, which swallowed up cars into its stomach.

The dogs in the pet holding area, wagging their tails at Satoru.

That foul-mouthed chinchilla telling me Guddo rakku!

The land in Hokkaido stretching out for ever.

Those vibrant purple and yellow flowers by the side of the road.

The field of pampas grass like an ocean.

The horses chomping on grass.

The bright-red berries on the mountain-ash trees.

The shades of red on the mountain ash that Satoru taught me.

The stands of slender white birch.

The graveyard, with its wide-open vista.

The bouquet of flowers in rainbow colours.

The white heart-shaped bottom of the deer.

That huge, huge, huge double rainbow growing out of the ground.

I would remember these for the rest of my life.

And Kosuke, and Yoshimine, and Sugi and Chikako. And above all, the one who brought up Satoru and made it possible for us to meet – Noriko.

Could anyone be happier than this?

‘It must have made you sad that we had to move all the time because of my work. Every time you made friends, I had to tear you away.’

‘But I made new friends wherever we went. I was sad to say goodbye to Kosuke, but in junior high I met Yoshimine, and in high school I met Sugi and Chikako. Our omiai meetings didn’t go so well with any of them, but they all said they’d take Nana for me. I’ve been so lucky to have this many people willing to take care of my darling cat.’

Satoru reached out his thin hand and covered Noriko’s fingers.

‘None of the people who offered to take Nana were right for him, and in the end you took him in for me, Aunt Noriko.’

Noriko was still looking down at her lap when her shoulders began to shake.

‘And even more than that, you found my parents for me, before adopting me yourself. So how could I not be happy?’

So – you shouldn’t be crying there, Noriko.

Instead of sobbing like that, it would be better to keep a smile on your face till the end. And then I’m sure you’ll be happier.

SATORU BEGAN TO stay overnight at the hospital more often.

‘I’ll be back in a few days.’

He’d say this, tickle me on the head, and leave the house, bag in hand. Gradually, the amount of time he stayed away grew longer. He’d say he’d be gone three or four days, but then would not come back for a week. Or he would say a week and return ten days later.

The clothes he had brought from Tokyo no longer fitted him. His trousers became so loose you could fit a couple of fists inside the waist.

He started wearing a wool cap at home. I don’t know why, but his hair was getting thinner than ever, along with his body, and then one day he was completely bald. I thought maybe they’d shaved his hair off at the hospital, but he’d gone to the barber’s himself and got them to do it.

One day, as Satoru was preparing for another stay in the hospital, he put a photograph into his suitcase. A photo of the two of us, taken on one of our trips, which he’d always kept beside his bed back in Tokyo.

And then it struck me.

I stood up on my hind legs and scratched at my basket in the corner of the living room and meowed. Come on, don’t you need to bring this with you?

Satoru closed the clasp on his suitcase and smiled at me with a forlorn look.

‘I guess you’d like to come with me, wouldn’t you, Nana?’

Well, of course. Satoru opened the basket door, and I hurried inside. Then he turned the basket so the door was against the wall.

Just a second now! How am I supposed to get out? Enough with the silly jokes.

‘You’re very well behaved, so I know you’ll be a good boy from now on.’

Hold on there! I clawed hard at the inside of the basket. What’re you talking about, Satoru?

Satoru stood up with his suitcase. He opened the front door without taking my basket with him.

Wait, wait! I scratched even harder at the basket, my fur on end, and yowled.

‘I know you’ll be a good boy.’

Shut up – a good boy? What a load of hogwash! I’ll never, ever let you leave me behind.

‘You be a good boy now.’

What? Come back here! Come back right this minute!

Take me with you!

‘It’s not like I want to leave you. I love you, you silly cat!’

I love you too, you dummy!

As if shaking off my yells, Satoru slowly left the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

Come back! Come back! Come back! COME BACK!

I’m your cat till the bitter end!

I screamed as loud as I could, but the door didn’t open. I cried and cried and cried and cried, until my voice was completely hoarse.

After I’m not sure how long, when the room had turned dark, the door quietly clicked open.

It was Noriko. She moved my basket away from the wall and opened the door.

I stayed in the corner of the basket, sulking, and a small hand reached gingerly in.

With the tip of her finger she touched my head, scratched behind my ears, softly stroked my throat.

For someone who wasn’t good with cats, she had come on quite well.

‘Satoru said to take good care of you. Since you’re his darling cat.’

I know. That I’m precious to him – that much I know.

‘I put out some food for you. I crumbled some chicken breast on top, too. Satoru said to pamper you today.’

If he thinks that’ll make up for leaving me behind, then he’s got another thing coming.

‘Satoru’s room is kind of small, but it’s a private room and very comfortable, not hospital-like at all. The nurses are all really kind, too. Satoru said he wants to spend his final days quietly.’

Noriko’s voice was trembling as she stroked me.

‘So Satoru said to tell Nana not to worry at all.’

Maybe I didn’t need to worry, but without me there with him it must have been just awful.

‘As soon as he got in the room he put up the photo of the two of you. Right next to his bed, just like at home. So he said everything’s fine.’

Nonsense. Which is better – a photo of me, or the real flesh-and-blood cat? The answer’s obvious.

Of course having the real me there – warm and velvety-soft me – is better.

I licked Noriko’s hand. At first, she hadn’t liked it when I licked her; she said my tongue was rough.

Since you’re crying, I’ll eat later, when I feel so inclined. I mean, you went to all the trouble of topping it with chicken breast and all.

Other than eating and using the litter tray, I pretty much stayed holed up in Satoru’s room.

Whenever I was alone in the house and the door opened, I leapt out, hoping it was him, but it was always Noriko.

I would let my tail droop and head back to Satoru’s room. I wasn’t at all embarrassed about letting it droop when I couldn’t see him. Because it was only natural to feel sad.

It seemed that Satoru had asked Noriko to take me for a walk every now and then, but if I couldn’t go out with Satoru I didn’t see the point of treading with the soft pads of my paws on streets covered with freezing white snow.

Satoru didn’t seem to get it. How important he was to me.

Every day, I stared out of the window.

Hey, Satoru, how are things where you are?

There was an awful snowstorm today. A total white-out outside the window. I couldn’t even see the lights of the city. Was it the same where you are?

Now it’s sunny. Not a cloud in the sky. But the clear, blue sky looks really cold.

Today, the puffed-up sparrows on the power lines set a new record for rotundity. There are some thin clouds and it isn’t snowing, but I’ll bet it’s freezing outside.

I saw a bright-red car driving down the road. The colour of the berries on the mountain ash, the colour you taught me. But I get the feeling the mountain-ash berry is a deeper colour, the kind that takes your breath away. Humans are good at making colours, but they can’t seem to reproduce the power of natural ones.

One day, Noriko walked into Satoru’s room.

‘Nana, let’s go and visit Satoru.’

Come again?

‘Satoru seems really lonely without you, so I went ahead and asked if I could bring you. The doctor said you can’t come inside, but when Satoru is going for his walk in the garden we can see him.’

Bravo, Noriko!

Noriko held out the basket and I scurried inside. We drove there in the silver van. Noriko had been using it the whole time Satoru had been in hospital, apparently, and this was the first time I’d been in it since the last journey Satoru and I had taken together.

By car, it took all of twenty minutes.

Satoru was this close by.

If it were just me and Satoru in the van, I would have opened the basket instantly and slipped out, but since it was Noriko I stayed quietly inside. Unused to thinking about things from a cat’s perspective, she put the basket on the floor in the back, so my only view was the van’s dark interior.

‘You stay here like a good boy, and I’ll fetch Satoru.’

As instructed, I waited like a good boy.

Of course I did. I’m a wise cat. I know what to do in any and all situations.

Finally, Noriko returned and lifted the basket out of the van.

The hospital was a tranquil place in a quiet neighbourhood. Beyond the parking lot was a soft, snowy field. The trees and benches were decorated with a thick layer of snow. I imagined the grass and flowerbeds asleep underneath.

There were chairs and tables on a roofed-in terrace projecting out from the building, and this place seemed to be used as a rest area on days when the weather wasn’t good. And then—

On the terrace, in a wheelchair, was Satoru.

I was impatient to leap out of the basket, but because Noriko was holding on to it, I refrained from unlocking the door myself.

‘Nana!’

Satoru had a down jacket on and was all puffy, but he was even thinner and paler than the last time I’d seen him.

But then, a bit of colour came to those ghostly cheeks. I don’t think I’m being conceited if I say that I was the one who brought that warm red glow to his face, but what do you all think?

‘I’m so glad you came!’

Satoru half rose from his wheelchair. Like me, he couldn’t stand the distance still separating us. I wanted to open up the basket and leap straight out. But Noriko still didn’t know I could unlock it myself.

I sprang into Satoru’s lap as soon as I could.

He pressed me close in his thin arms, unable to speak. I purred till my throat hurt, rubbing the top of my head over and over against his body.

The two of us were so very, very well matched, so don’t you think it was strange we were kept apart from each other?

I wanted to lie in his arms for ever, but pretty soon the piercing cold became too much for Satoru, in his condition.

‘Satoru,’ Noriko said hesitantly. Satoru knew what she meant, but found it hard to let me go.

‘I keep the photo of the two of us next to my bed.’

Um. Noriko told me.

‘So I’m not lonely.’

That’s not true. In fact, it’s such an obvious lie that Enma, the Lord of Hell, who pulls out the tongues of liars, would be laughing too hard to do any tongue-pulling.

‘You stay well, Nana.’

One more firm squeeze around my middle that nearly brought the stuffing out of me, and Satoru finally let me go. At Noriko’s urging, I stepped straight back into my basket, ever the good boy.

‘Just a second. I’ll put Nana in the car.’

Noriko left me on the back seat of the van before hurrying back to Satoru.

That was my moment. With my right paw, I flipped the basket door open. I sat down low in the driver’s seat and waited for Noriko to return.

It was almost an hour later when she did. There was a light dusting of snow swirling in the air, and Noriko was hunching up her shoulders against the cold as she walked.

The door on the driver’s side snapped open.

‘Nana!?’

She chased after me, but when it comes to playing tag, humans are no match for four-legged animals. I avoided her easily and raced out into the parking lot.

‘Come back here!’

Noriko’s voice was nearly a scream. Sorry, but I’m not going to listen to you.

Because I’m a wise cat, who knows what to do in any and all situations.

When I had reached a safe distance, I stopped and turned to look, focusing my vision hard on her flailing, distant figure.

Then I put up my tail cheerily.

See you! Bye!

I scampered off into the snowy landscape and never looked back.

NOW THEN. NO matter how proud a stray cat I might be, winter in Hokkaido is pretty formidable.

The snow in Tokyo should never be called by the same name as the snow that falls here, so heavy sometimes you can’t see your nose in front of your face.

Here’s where all those walks I’d taken with Satoru came in useful.

The town cats I ran across were great at slipping into sheltered spaces to avoid the cold. And, of course, there were some heroic cats in the neighbourhood around the hospital as well.

That being the case, since I was always prepared to go back to being a stray, why wouldn’t I survive?

Using the hospital as my base, I located several spots where I could keep out of the cold. As might be expected with large buildings, there were many cracks and gaps – in garage and warehouse walls, for instance – that a cat could slip through. The areas below the flooring in people’s houses and underneath their boilers were both comfortable places. Sometimes, another cat had beaten me to it, but perhaps the severe winter cold helped foster a spirit of cooperation, and more often than not we would end up sharing the spot rather than disputing it.

I’d heard that the citizens of Hokkaido were particularly kind. Noriko had told Satoru that it was quite common for people to pick up drunks and travellers and let them stay in their home. Sure enough, I experienced how that principle operated in the cat world, too.

The local cats showed me where to scavenge for food, for example. Houses and shops where they’d give you tasty leftovers, and a park where a cat lover might feed you. There was a small supermarket near the hospital as well, and I often charmed my way into cadging treats there.

And, of course, there was always hunting. The cold made the puffed-up birds and mice move nice and slowly, so they were easy prey.

The cats around me thought I was a little odd for having intentionally given up the easy life for one as a stray. Why do that? they often asked. It’s such a waste. They concluded I must be a little mad.

But, for me, there was something more important at stake.

The snow began to let up, and night was yet to fall. I crept around to the side of the warehouse from which the hospital was visible and – yes! Just as I thought.

Satoru, wheeling himself in his wheelchair, was coming out of the front door.

Tail straight up, I scampered over to him. His face broke into a tearful smile. Then he said, ‘You need to go home now.’

You know what’ll happen if you try to catch me, don’t you? I’ll scratch you – up and down and all over – until you look like they could play checkers on your face.

Satoru could see I was wary, and said, ‘I give up.’ Turns out, when I escaped from Noriko, they had totally freaked out. Satoru was apparently so shocked when he heard I’d run away he broke out in a fever.

Noriko looked for me every day on the streets but, naturally, I was too stealthy for the likes of her to find me.

A few days passed, and when I turned up again in front of Satoru, despondently sitting on the terrace, boy was he surprised! His jaw dropped so far he looked like Donald Duck.

See? Didn’t I tell you I’d stay with you to the end?

Satoru reached out from his wheelchair to grab me. I flailed around like a freshly caught salmon and slipped out of his grasp.

When I looked up at him from a safe spot on the floor a few yards away, Satoru’s face looked like that of a child on the verge of tears.

‘Nana, you’re being foolish,’ he said. ‘You came to say hello, didn’t you?’

I am Satoru’s one and only cat. And Satoru is my one and only pal.

And a proud cat like me wasn’t about to abandon his pal. If living as a stray was what it took to be Satoru’s cat to the very end, then bring it on.

When Noriko heard the news from Satoru, she huffed and puffed and jumped in her car. I’m not sure where she found it, but she brought over a huge cage used to trap animals, left it in the garage and went back home. As if I would be stupid enough to get caught in a contraption like that!

For a while, I couldn’t trust the hospital staff either. Apparently acting on instructions from Noriko and Satoru, they tried to coax me over, with the sole intention of capturing me.

They saw me appear whenever Satoru happened to be on the terrace, only to leave as soon as he went inside, so I think they finally understood.

After that, I became Satoru’s commuting cat.

On days when it wasn’t snowing, Satoru would come outside for a short while, and we’d spend some precious moments together. I chewed on the crunchies and chicken breast he brought me and curled up tightly in his lap.

Satoru would tickle me behind my ears and under my chin, and I’d purr for him.

Just like when we first met.

‘Mr Miyawaki?’

The nurse was calling him back inside. She was about the same age as Noriko, but quite a bit rounder.

‘Okay. I’ll be in soon.’

Satoru held me tightly to his body. Whenever we parted, he would always give me a huge hug. I could tell from the way his thin arms clung around me that this might be the last time.

I licked Satoru’s hands, each and every knuckle, and leapt down from his lap.

By the way, when I became a commuting cat, some of the other cats I got to know received extra perks as well.

The hospital staff and visitors started to leave little snacks around the yard for me. Each one thought they were the only one stealthily leaving me food, but actually there must have been a whole lot of them.

I couldn’t eat it all myself, but took some to all the cats who’d been kind to me, to repay them.

It snowed for several days in a row.

When it finally let up, I sidled over to the side of the warehouse where I had a clear view of the hospital’s front entrance.

It was the first sunny day in a while, yet Satoru didn’t appear on the terrace.

When the sun began to set, Noriko pulled up in the silver van. Her face looked pale, her hair dishevelled.

I pattered up to her, but she said simply, ‘Sorry, Nana. You’ll have to wait,’ and walked swiftly inside.

IN THE HOSPITAL room, all Noriko could do was watch.

The waves on the ECG machine were getting steadily weaker.

She could just see the figure of Satoru lying on the bed, between the members of staff clustered around him.

As Noriko tried to slide between them, a nurse brushed against the bedside cabinet and two framed photos – a family photo with Noriko, and one of Nana – fell crashing to the floor. They were hurriedly retrieved and put back in place.

Just then, a cat’s mewling from outside resounded around the ward. Mewling and mewling.

‘Can I—’

Noriko spoke before thinking.

‘Can I bring in the cat? Satoru’s cat?’

She’d never made such an absurd request in her life.

‘Please – let me bring in the cat.’

‘Please don’t ask!’ the matron scolded. ‘If you ask, then we’ll have to say no!’

As if propelled by a cannon, Noriko raced out of the ward. Ignoring the No Running in the Corridor sign, she clattered down the stairs, two at a time.

Then she burst through the front entrance.

‘Nana! Naaana!’

Nana leapt out of the darkness like a silver bullet. He jumped into Noriko’s arms and snuggled into her body. Then Noriko raced back up to the ward.

‘Satoru!’

The staff were reaching the final stages of the procedure. Noriko elbowed her way through them to Satoru’s side.

‘Satoru, it’s Nana!’

Satoru’s closed eyelids quivered. As if fighting against gravity, they slowly lifted.

Unable to move his head, his eyes searched from side to side.

Noriko clasped Satoru’s hand and placed it gently on the top of Nana’s small head.

Satoru’s lips moved faintly. She thought she heard him say, ‘Thank you.’

The ECG screen flat-lined.

Nana nuzzled the top of his head up and down against Satoru’s lifeless hand.

‘I’m afraid he’s passed away,’ the attending doctor said, and the matron added, ‘We can’t have you bringing a cat in here. You’ll have to take him out now.’

Suddenly, the atmosphere seemed to lighten. Some of the nurses even gave a small smile.

And then, as though something loose had finally been wrenched open, the floodgates broke.

Not since she was a little girl had Noriko wept with such abandon.

The staff members finished unplugging the monitors and took them away.

‘Make sure you take the cat outside immediately,’ the matron reminded her, before swiftly leaving the room.

Noriko’s throat throbbed, until she couldn’t weep any more.

Suddenly, she felt a rough tongue licking the tops of her fingers. Gently, ever so gently.

‘Let’s take Satoru back, Nana.’

As if in response, Nana licked her hand again.

‘Nana, is it okay for me to believe that Satoru was happy?’

Nana nuzzled his forehead against Noriko’s palm, and then once more began to lick, ever so delicately.