Mochi wasn't quite sure when it happened, or how, but seemingly out of the blue one day his human family did something quite peculiar; they stopped working.

Now, it had been many years since Mochi had stumbled upon this particular human den, lured by the sweet smell of sugar coated pasties that were so kindly collected for him in silver cans, but ever since he adopted the human woman and her two boys he had created a strict schedule for the household.

At 7:20 A.M. the woman was to wake up at Mochi's request, usually by his vocal command or occasionally by a gentle but stern pat to the face. This was done in an attempt for her to cease the annoying beeping that would emit from the small glowing box next to her bed around 7:30 if Mochi didn't wake her in time.

After this he was to be fed and given fresh water promptly at 7:45 A.M, but once this had been done Mochi allowed the woman to prepare food for her and her kin as well. (though sometimes the food she prepared for them was far superior to the tuna mixture he was given instead. He corrected this by demanding a portion of the higher quality meal, which he was of course granted)

After eating, the humans tended to scatter, off to hunt or do whatever it was they did in their spare time. Mochi, thoroughly exhausted at this point, would take his spot by the window where the sun tended to shine and take a nap in it's warmth. Somewhere around noon the woman would return from whatever she was doing downstairs, and dedicate her time to admiring and stroking him.

This was actually not something he initially insisted upon in his carefully crafted schedule, but as it was fairly enjoyable he made an exception for it.

The woman would then eat again, a portion of which was given to Mochi, and then disappear down the stairs. Then it was time for his daily duty of ridding the house of all vermin and insects, and once that was done he would once more take a well deserved nap.

The humans would all return that evening, they would eat, and then after staring at a glowing box him and the woman would go to bed again to repeat the cycle in the morning.

That was before his humans were broken, though.

Now the woman refused to get up at his bidding, sleeping until the absurd beeping filled the bedroom and persisted until she awoke.

Mochi's bowl went empty until well past noon, despite his many complaints, and the only food the woman made for herself was crunchy bread and a hot, bitter liquid she drank out of a mug. For the youngest boy she would make delicious flat pastries with liquid sugar on top, but for the first time Mochi wasn't given any portion of it all, and the boy would take the plate up to his room before he had a chance to steal a piece.

The older boy, oddly enough, didn't come to eat at all. Not for breakfast, or lunch, or dinner. Mochi never saw him join the rest of the kin, and after a few days he assumed that a larger animal must have made a meal of him.

It was sad, as the older boy had been enjoyable as far as humans go, but such was the cycle of life.

Still, ever since his gap was created in the family unit, his humans stopped following their schedule and became horrendous at following his commands. He really was at a loss of what to do.

On the third day of his humans malfunctioning, he was searching the house for prey (it was still his duty, after all) when he heard the woman in her bedroom. It strange, as his schedule had her downstairs during this time, but he supposed he should have been used to her rebellion by now. He went into the room to reprimand her when he saw that she was laying in bed again, but not sleeping as she normally would have.

Instead her body was quaking under her covers, ugly, blanching sounds barely hidden by her pillow. Liquid and mucus ran down her face, and that was when Mochi realized that his humans were truly not ignoring his schedule on purpose; they were simply incapable of doing so in their current malfunctioning state.

The only problem with this was that Mochi had limited human experience prior to adopting this family, and he didn't quite know how to fix them. So he did the only thing he could do; lay beside the woman and purr, as had delighted her so many times before. The ugly sounds she was making began to quiet, and after a bit she reached out a hand and began running her fingers through his fur. He kept purring, and eventually nuzzled against her body, to which she responded by pulling him closer and holding him to her.

Sometimes it was best to replace things when they got broken.

Not this time though.

No, Mochi would keep this human family, however broken it was; it was still, after all, his. So he would take care of them, and hopefully one day their lives would return to normal.

In the meantime, though, he took it upon himself to provide for the kin, gifting the woman with fresh mice meat on her bed every day so that she wouldn't need to hunt. Strangely enough, though, she kept collecting them in her silver cans instead of just eating them.

Humans were funny things.