Shimmered Delicately, Like a Soap Bubble
In the kitchen of his grandfather's house – his house – its once bright, white, surfaces dulled by a greasy layer of dust, Kai Hiwatari sat, trying to think. It was not going well. Coffee (universal muse to intellectual thought) had first been brewed, and then unfortunately, burnt, on the oven hob. Now the room was filled with its bitter and tangy atmosphere. Kai drank it anyway. Burnt black coffee; breakfast of champions. In his lap, rumbling quietly and stinking of insecticide, was the little black cat. The house had stood empty for almost a year but within hours of Kai moving in, it too had returned; skinny as hell and crawling with fleas. Kai hadn't even unpacked. He went straight into town for anti-parasite treatment and food and that first night, by candlelight, he made them both a full roast dinner. Chicken, potatoes, carrots, broccoli, gravy; the works, topped off with a big slice of cold apple pie and cream. He guessed it was the best either of them had eaten in a while.
Rotund and content, the cat lifted its head and yawned. It sniffed the bowl of coffee on the oak table in front of them, then recoiled with an expression of distaste. It looked at Kai.
"Meow." The cat said.
"Meow." Kai replied.
It stood up and nudged his chest.
"Meow." It repeated, somewhat insistent.
This is what's wrong, Kai thought. I've been alone for so long, I've lost the power of human speech.
"Meow."
"Meow." Kai said, absentmindedly, swirling the coffee. The cat, undeterred, began to knead his chest and after an initial suspicious sniff, rubbed its face affectionately into his chin. "You do realise you're making it very hard to think, Kitty."
What was he thinking about? Kai didn't know. He still couldn't be sure what had happened. His mind felt piecemeal, with sixty different thoughts that all led nowhere. Something stirred, and Kai let it groggily come to light. At first, he had found these slow and unfamiliar memories distressing. They would not be hurried, nor could they be blocked out. In time, though, he learned to relax into the experience. Life had become an almost perpetual pleasant daydream.
Kitty. That was the trigger. He took a sip of the lukewarm coffee. Something else had been called Kitty before, and not the cat.
"Meow." The cat said, between purrs.
"I know, Kitty."
It was dark. A train squealed distantly, and rain battered against the windows like radio static, comforting.
"I love you, you know."
"I know, Kitty. Love you too."
Kai blinked. The cat was several feet away, agitated, licking its shoulder. Damp cold sucked the shirt to his skin, corresponding to a rapidly spreading brown stain on his chest. The coffee bowl lay cracked in half on the floor. Kai hadn't even heard it break.
What...?
It may have been mid-winter in the un-heated mansion but against his neck, Kai felt the lingering warmth of another's breath. Months had passed since anything had felt that...lucid. It felt realer than anything; realer than real life.
"Meow?" said the cat.
"It's okay, Ki – It's okay, Mr. Cat." He crouched to reassure it, and before long the thin little thing was winding between his legs, rolling to reveal its taut round belly and generally making a nuisance of itself. While Kai peeled off the glacial shirt and set about hunting for something warmer to wear, the cat was none-to-subtle about implicating itself into his line of sight at every turn.
In fact, since they had dined together that first night, Kai and the little black cat were rarely apart. Round the house, the garden, even the surrounding streets – it followed him, more faithful than any dog. Ears flicked back and eyes slanted, it even sat patiently on the river bank as Kai took his brisk, early morning swims in want of bathing. And, come midday, it followed him, too, to the store. He was apparently forgiven for accosting it with chemicals, though Kai hoped on some level it understood that that had also been an act of friendship.
Not trusting his memory, Kai and the little black cat followed his hand-drawn map to the shops. People stared at the lost young man and his strange companion, and Kai felt troubled that he could only carry enough food to last the week. He couldn't wait to get back to their great empty house, where no-one bothered him and it didn't matter whether or not he meowed in public.
Kids followed them round the aisles as they restocked on candles, coffee, bottled water, eggs, bacon, rice, pizza, and anything else that took their fancy. Small mercy that the giant range oven worked off of an almost full gas canister in the basement. When that ran out, Kai would face the choice of attempting to heave a new one all the way home or living without hot meals. He wasn't looking forward to that day.
Maybe because their entourage of curious children had finally become bored and wandered away, maybe because he was still thinking about the gas, and what he'd like to eat when they got back, but whichever, he'd drifted back into dreaming. Like the driver who falls asleep on the road, though, even briefly, it had got him into trouble. The cat meowed, asking why they'd stopped. The map... he must've left it at the store when he packed the shopping. Everything around them had seemed familiar enough until he'd started to pay attention. As soon as Kai tried to recall why it was all vaguely recognisable, the streets appeared to instantly morph into something strange and confusing. Which way had he been walking? He couldn't remember. Feeling profoundly misplaced, Kai put down his plastic bags and sat on the kerb.
What now?