Companion
This was written for a prompt given to me by a friend on LJ: any fandom and any pairing, but someone has to turn into a cat. The titles are all taken from various 31 Days themes... their prompts are good cures for writer's block.
012. Leisurely encounter beside a stream.
"You're a scruffy runt, you know," November 11 murmured as he bandaged his own fingers. The black cat watched him from across the room with its odd, clear blue eyes. November chuckled.
"Speechless, are you?" well, I do seem to have that effect on people. I guess it applies to your kind too."
Silence: not even a blink, or a feline yawn. When November stood up and returned the first aid kit to his room, the cat watched his every move with its eyes.
November had found the cat only a few hours ago, on one of his regular walks around the city; he had taken an unusual detour from his usual route, and had ended up on the bridge connecting the neighborhood to the Chinese market. The cat — a small, mangled creature — was limping across, leaning against the railing for support. He caught up with it halfway.
Bringing the cat to his apartment had been difficult: the creature had fought with him every step of the way, biting, scratching and clawing what he could reach. November was forced to use his coat to hold the creature, which had left him without an umbrella in the pouring rain. He had only managed to move whenever the cat tired itself out, which merited him sprinting from shaded area to shaded area all the way up to the lobby of his apartment building, where he had deposited himself not quite unlike a drowned rat on the stairway. Pets weren't actually allowed inside the units, but the guard was prudent enough to refrain from arguing with November, who looked like he was going to throw the weak but hissing creature at whoever contradicted him.
Calling for a veterinarian seemed useless at that hour, leaving November to tend to the cat as best as he could manage. The creature's injuries made November wonder if it was possible for a smallish mammal to get run over several times and emerge alive, for that seemed to have been the case with this particular stray.
"I'll take you to the vet tomorrow, if you'll behave yourself," November declared to the cat. "As for me, I plan on rewarding myself with a good, long shower."
And, as predicted, the cat did not move or make a sound.
011. Conversations with April: Nothing quite so least as truth.
"…Okay. Now I know you're a weird bloke — weirder than the usual freaks in this scene, I mean — but seriously. Cat food?"
"This isn't for me?"
"What, you're keeping a pet?"
"Well, yes. That's what buying cat food would normally imply."
"…Huh."
"Mm?"
"I dunno. I guess I'd sooner imagine you eating cat food than taking care of anything."
010. Space up for rent if you'll be an animal sort of Companion.
Over a week passed in relative peace before the cat started moving, and — as such things usually went — started attempting to run away. November 11 only worried about it the first few times before he realized that his unwilling boarder never managed to get very far.
"Don't give me that look," he laughed as he picked the black cat up from the street corner for the seventh time. "I happen to be the one who feeds you."
November 11 figured that he was probably lucky; the cat was always too worn out from his attempted escape to bite him, or do worse things.
It was after the twelfth prison break that, as November 11 redressed the cat's wounds, he noticed the cat was watching him again. Tending to the creature was not a struggle, for once, but it might have been easy to pass it off as a result of pain and exhaustion.
009. Conversations with April: Animal presence.
"What's the hurry? It's a Saturday night! We ought to take this one nice and slow."
"He'll start looking for me."
"…He?"
"The cat."
"Uh-huh."
"What?"
"That's one amazing housepet, to keep the November 11 from spending a night out on the streets."
"He's an interesting one. That's all."
"An interesting cat."
"Mm. An interesting cat."
008. We'll go no more a-roving.
The nine o'clock routine involved November 11 coming home to the black cat curled up in the sofa facing the door, watching and waiting. He would talk to the cat as he moved about, propelled by his evening rituals, and the cat, predictably, never responded. November always managed to squeeze in a smoke, a shower and dinner before the evening news, which he watched more out of habit than out of interest. Sometimes, if he was lucky, the cat would inch close enough to allow itself to be lifted into November's lap and scratched between the ears.
November 11 always retired just before midnight. He would always wake up in the middle of the night to the cat crawling beneath the sheets and sneaking under his arm, although it would always be gone well before he woke up. November 11 made it a point to pretend that he didn't notice a thing.
007. Conversations with April: Thieves in the temple.
"There have been an awful lot of missions lately."
"Well, the higher-ups are taking advantage of the organization's downtime. Seems as though BK-201 has gone missing."
"……Is that so?"
"That's what I've heard. Details are sketchy, but it's said that he was bumped off by a new one with a nifty ability."
"Define 'nifty'."
"She can turn people into stuff."
"Stuff."
"Animals." A pause. "You don't think—"
"I do."
"Do you need—"
"No, I can handle it. He's my pet, after all."
006. Elegy of armistice.
The manhunt did not last for very long: two weeks of observation, another week of planning and preparation. He tried not to make it look like he was hurrying, but April and July knew him too well. He could only be thankful that they did not ask questions.
His "cat" was not in its customary position at the sofa. November took his time with the search even though he was almost certain that it was in the bedroom. He was attacked the moment he entered. This did not surprise him.
"It's good to see you back on your feet," the British agent would later remark, after a brief and violent struggle. He had BK-201 up against the wall, gripping the arm that he knew was broken, pressing close against the bruises and the torn muscle. No other sound could be heard in the room save for BK-201's breath: harsh, short and filled with pain. November only waited, tightening his grip whenever he felt BK-201 tense up and prepare to break free. Not much had changed from injured cat to injured man: it was only a matter of time before BK-201 tired himself out.
November released the Chinese agent after nearly thirty minutes of waiting, and he rather unceremoniously dumped the younger man on his bed (or what was left of it). "I'll need to patch you up again," he murmured, eyeing his former pet. "I don't suggest trying to escape. My superiors are looking for you."
And he turned his back to fetch the medical supplies in the bathroom without fearing another attack. BK-201 wasn't going to move. They both knew this.
005. Conversations with April: Marriage without consent.
"So how did it go?"
"Swimmingly. He didn't have the chance to scratch my eyes out this time."
"Then he's alive."
"Of course he is."
"…"
"I'm not expecting you to cover for me."
"But I'm going to. We're partners, aren't we?"
004. Like reading Proust in Chinese.
November 11 let BK-201 have his room for the next few days. Their arrangement was simple: beyond tending to his injuries and helping him clothe himself or take a bath, November did not go near him. He left the Chinese agent's breakfast and lunch on the table when he left for the agency, and left his dinner at the door when he returned. He did not bother himself with wondering what BK-201 did to keep himself occupied — his more immediate concern was acclimatizing himself to sleeping on his couch, which wasn't exactly comfortable for anything beyond loafing around.
"You don't restrain me, and you're not selling me out. Why?"
"Restrain you? Like, with ropes and all? I didn't think you were into that sort of thing."
BK-201 only stared at him; the Chinese agent had finally emerged from the room of his own accord, and stood in the living room, watching November, waiting for an answer. November smiled and turned his attentions back to the morning newspaper.
"Well, I don't know. I wouldn't find it very amusing to tell my superiors about you. It's also going to cause some trouble for me, because I'm going to have to explain everything to them."
"We are enemies."
"I saved your life. I didn't know it, but I saved your life. I'm not about to let my hard work go to waste."
"That doesn't make sense."
"I suppose it doesn't." November turned the page. "You're free to leave when you're able. I'm not going to stop you."
Silence, then footsteps. November looked up and saw BK-201 standing in front of him. November moved first, grabbing the younger man's wrist before the latter could reach out and shake him by the collar. BK-201 glared. They were nearly close enough to touch noses, and to mingle their breaths together.
"Why?" the dark-haired Contractor repeated, with more vehemence. November looked straight into his eyes. The British agent released BK-201's wrist.
"Desperation doesn't suit you," he said as he turned away. BK-201 retreated. November did not pursue him.
003. Conversations with April: So much for the afterglow.
"So what did you tell them?"
"I said that you picked up a cat. Now they're all wanking off and wondering if they should assemble a team to research the effects of pets on 'our kind'."
"Heh."
"You can't keep this up forever though."
"I know. It'll be soon."
"What will be?"
"The end of this."
002. But, I won't stay with you.
That evening passed much like evenings had usually done since the black cat became BK-201: November 11 came home to what felt like an empty apartment, did his evening rituals in silence, and set food out by the bedroom door before sleeping. Midnight brought about the change, where he woke up to BK-201 trying to strangle him. Overpowering the Chinese agent was easy, and within five minutes November was on the floor with BK-201 pinned beneath him.
"What did I say about you and desperation?" he asked, in a voice so calm that he startled himself with it. BK-201 looked away. Silence, even as November bent low and close but did not touch him. The moonlight made him see the younger man in pieces: slender wrists, pale neck, panting lips, startling blue eyes.
In the morning after, when November woke up on the floor of his empty apartment with nothing but a blanket on, he liked to think that BK-201 had kissed him first.
001. Conversations with April: You are second hand smoke.
"You're smoking."
"I do that often enough. You shouldn't be surprised."
"But you're not doing it for remuneration."
"I don't need a reason for everything."
"That's news to me."
"…He left, by the way."
"See what I mean? You do need a reason for everything."