So I wrote this
fic. And Unwilling stood over my shoulder and yelled, "FINISH
IT!!!" and then she wrote three sentences at the end of ENDING
THREE. And then claimed co-authorship. ----''
Unwilling wants to
say: If it wasn't for me, this wouldn't be up here. It would be
mouldering in Unsworn's computer files for all eternity. And, yes,
Subaru-kun likes cat soup. Get over it.
Title: Hokuto-kitten
Author: Unsworn with Unwilling
Rating: PG-13 for themes and insanity
Summary: Subaru finds a kitten and it shreds his clothes. No, really.
A/N: It has three different endings--sane, dark, and C-R-A-C-K.
It is raining. Slate grey skies open over Tokyo, and Subaru is walking home from a job. It is cold. His coat is black and waterproof and efficient, and Hokuto-chan would have hated it. The coat keeps out the cold rather nicely, and in addition has pockets that he can put stuff in, something which Hokuto-chan's outfits had lacked.
It is the two-year anniversary of Hokuto's death, and Subaru is walking home from a job. He is depressed. This is not unusual for Subaru, especially on occasions such as this. Last year he spent the day at home with a tub of strawberry ice-cream—Hokuto-chan's favourite—and soaps on reruns. He learned more than he wanted to about the inner workings of Japan's model family.
He's lost in thought, caressing an ofuda in his pocket in preparation for Seishirou-san ambushing him—which admittedly wasn't likely to happen (hadn't happened in two years, whispered the critical part of his mind) but it was good to be prepared for any eventuality.
So he understandably doesn't notice that his coat is slightly heavier than usual—or he chalks it up to leaving something in his pocket from yesterday, or the heaviness of rain.
Until he stumbles and something goes, "MEOW!!!" in an indignant tone of meow. He looks down at the hem of his coat and has to fight from laughing.
There's a small rat-like animal shredding the bottom of his wonderfully practical coat, and it is meowing at him.
He drops his ofuda back in his pocket (oh, the luxury) picks it up by the base of the tail, remembering lessons Seishirou-san had given him long ago on how not to pick up a cat. Bitterness rises at the back of his throat—god knew how Seishirou-san had learned that, or if it was even true—and he forces it down, looks at the cat/rat/creature in his hand.
It
looks up at him with accusing green eyes, all paws and big eyes, and
he can almost hear his sister's voice-- "Pockets, Subaru?!"
He
can't just leave it on the street after they've shared such a pivotal
bonding experience—it shredded his coat! He drops it into one of
his glorious pockets, and heads for home.
Subaru gets home, sheds his coat on the floor, hears the indignant squeak, gets the kitten out of his pocket and dumps it unceremoniously on his pristine white couch. The cat glares at him, and drips on his couch, turning it a pale shade of grey-brown, and digs it's claws in for good measure.
Subaru sighs, and pulls out, from a pocket of his wonderful coat, cigarettes. He lights one, blows a smoke-ring at the kitten, and heads for his small kitchen.
He forages for his tub of strawberry ice cream—there's almost no foraging to do, as the strawberry ice cream is sharing shelf-space with a carrot and some frozen odango. Some instant ramen is down two shelves. This is what's in his fridge.
He grabs the ice-cream and a spoon and sits down next to the kitten. The kitten looks at him. He says, "What am I supposed to feed you? My dog died! And I've never had a cat, and the ones Seishirou-san had got killed." The kitten blinks at him, and jumps into his ice-cream like a champion diver. He pulls it out and it glares at him. He glares back.
"Ice-cream is for humans. Not cats. Understand?" The kitten looks at him pathetically, face and front paws dripping with pink mush. Emerald eyes ask him how he could possibly be horrible to this face?
Subaru gives in, crumpling like a wet paper bag, and drops the kitten back into it's playground of pink, grey, and black-and-white cat fur.
It swims.
He stares, and debates calling the vet. Then he remembers his hatred of practitioners of the veterinary profession, and decides to give it two more minutes before throwing out this carton.
The kitten paddles, and savages the ice-cream that is stubbornly refusing to melt.
Subaru sighs, and savours his cigarette.
The next day he sets out to buy the kitten-rat food, a collar, and a bed. He realizes he'll have to take it to a vet, and puffs on his cigarette. The kitten, from the depths of his shredded coat, makes an indignant noise. Subaru tells it to shut up.
The kitten looks at him with big green eyes. He swears under his breath and gives himself more lung cancer. Then he steels himself and walks into the pet store.
Three hours later he emerges, five hundred thousand yen lighter and with a collar he thinks was designed by some Italian woman with too much time on her hands and a warped imagination, three bags of the most expensive cat food on the face of the planet, and a designer pet bed that cost more than his mattress.
Also, he needs a new pack of cigarettes.
He looks down at the kitten in his pocket. It looks back at him innocently. He says, "You ripped up everything I tried on you that was worth less than a hundred thousand yen!"
It blinks.
He continues, "That's probably why I like you so much. You remind me of someone...Someone I loved very much."
The kitten ignores him and licks its genitalia.
"Her name was Hokuto. Hokuto-chan. I miss her so much..." A passerby looks at him strangely and he glares at her. The middle-schooler hurries away.
"That should be your name. Hokuto. Because you're like her, so much."
The middle-schooler's friend whispers, "Why's he talking to his pocket? And naming it?"
The middle-schooler shrugs, and tugs her away. They eat pocky.
Subaru and the newly-christened Hokuto walk on, heading for their next appointment, with a vet Subaru did so much research on he was up until five in the morning.
ENDING ONE:
Subaru comes home at three in the morning, sticky with blood after a nutcase ghost jumped him. He's out of cigarettes. Again.
"Tadaima, Hokuto-neko-chan!"
There's no answering meow. Subaru's heart beats loud and fast, and he reaches for an ofuda. Then he runs into his bedroom, where Hokuto-kitten has taken up residence, shredding his slippers and pillow in the process.
He throws open his door, savagely, and his heart stops.
On his bed is Hokuto-kitten, body broken and limp. Big eyes dull. Paws splayed every which-way.
And the damner—three sakura petals scattered decoratively on his cat's body.
He crumples to the floor, and absolutely refuses to cry.
ENDING TWO:
Subaru comes home at three in the morning, sticky with blood after a nutcase ghost jumped him. He's out of cigarettes. Again.
"Tadaima, Hokuto-neko-chan!"
There's no answering meow. Subaru's heart beats loud and fast, and he reaches for an ofuda. Then he runs into his bedroom, where Hokuto-kitten has taken up residence, shredding his slippers and pillow in the process.
He throws open his door, savagely, and his heart stops.
On his bed is Hokuto-kitten, body broken and limp. Big eyes dull. Paws splayed every which-way.
And the damner—three sakura petals scattered decoratively on his cat's body.
He feels nothing, darkness in his heart and mind and spirit dulling his senses and his grief. He reaches out tentatively, fingers the smooth petal on his pet's sleek fur.
"Seishirou-san?" He says, delighted lone voice echoing through the empty apartment. "You noticed me!"
ENDING THREE:
Subaru comes home at three in the morning, sticky with blood after a nutcase ghost jumped him. He's out of cigarettes. Again.
"Tadaima, Hokuto-neko-chan!"
There's no answering meow. Subaru's heart beats loud and fast, and he reaches for an ofuda. Then he runs into his bedroom, where Hokuto-kitten has taken up residence, shredding his slippers and pillow in the process.
He throws open his door, savagely, and his heart stops.
On his bed is Hokuto-kitten, body broken and limp. Big eyes dull. Paws splayed every which-way.
And the damner—three sakura petals scattered decoratively on his cat's body.
He fingers the petals for a while, and closes the lids of Hokuto-kitten's eyes.
"You know something?" he asks the apartment, well, himself, "She was a conniving bitch anyways."
He shrugs, and goes to prepare the kitchen for cat soup.
So, you know, review?
And thanks for reading. And yeah. Cat soup is yum.