Chapter 2: Broken Routine

"You're late up."

Haru dragged herself into the kitchen, barely sparing a glance up to her mother. "It's the holidays," she reminded her tiredly.

"Later than usual," her mother amended.

Haru stifled a yawn and – for the second time that day – collapsed onto one of the chairs. "Uh-hm."

Naoko Yoshioka looked over her newspaper; the paper in one hand, a knife and fork for her breakfast in the other. There was a small pause, then, "Were you up last night?"

"What?"

"I thought I heard someone downstairs last night – was that you?"

"I – uh, yes."

"What were you doing?"

"Weird dreams. I went to get myself some water."

"A nightmare?"

Haru hesitated. Calling it that made it sound so final. "Kind of." She couldn't quite believe she was classing any dream with Baron in as a nightmare, but there really was no other word for it.

"What was it about?"

"I… can't remember."

"Sometimes nightmares have meanings."

"I don't think this one did," Haru replied quickly.

The only thing that dream could mean was that she was missing Baron.

Naoko spared one last glance at her daughter, then returned to her breakfast. "You haven't had a nightmare for the last year – what's brought this one about?"

"I don't know."

There was another pause. Eventually Haru stood up and started to make a cup of tea.

"Is that your special blend?"

"Yeah."

"Can you do me one too then?"

"Sure." Haru flicked the kettle on. "By the way, mum, you left the milk out last night."

"Did I?"

Haru nodded, her back turned to her mother as she retrieved two mugs from the drying rack, so her expression was hidden. "That's the third time you've done that this week." She paused. "If you keep on doing that, the milk will go off," she added, as if that was the most worrying thing on her mind.

"I know, I know. It's just… my head is so full of everything else, sometimes I forget the mundane things."

"Well… just try to remember in future." She finished with said milk and returned it to the fridge. "You will remember when I go, won't you?"

"Go?"

"To uni."

"Oh, yes of course."

Haru sat back down with two cups of tea, passing one to her mother. She watched the redhead sip at the tea, knowing just how much she was going to miss her when she left. "You know, maybe I should stay–" she started slowly.

"No. Haru, you got in with your hard work and effort," Naoko interrupted firmly. "No, you should go. Go and live your life. Anyway, you've been accepted in now."

"I could still turn them down," Haru said, but she knew it wouldn't make any difference to her mother. She dropped her eyes down to her drink. In its murky depths, her own dark eyes could be seen reflecting back the same worried expression. In a sudden decision, she stood up, sweeping her tea up with one hand.

"Are you going?"

Haru forced a smile and started towards the door. "I'm going to finish this in my room."

"You haven't even had breakfast."

"I'll have brunch," she called as she exited into the hallway. She rushed up the stairs and didn't slow her furious pace until she was safely in her room; the door slamming behind her with an audible thud. Suddenly she halted and let herself lean back against the door. A long sigh escaped past her lips as she slipped down to the floor, her eyes closing in the wish to be ignorant. To be ignorant, to be blind to the truth. But she couldn't take back her knowledge; couldn't take back her realisation.

She had started to notice the peculiarities of her mother under a year ago, but had just passed it off as nothing, or maybe that was just what she had wanted to believe. But now even she could not ignore the warning signs. Even the neighbours had started to notice Naoko's absent-mindedness. She had always been slightly... forgetful, but it was beginning to reach a worrying level now. It hadn't just been the milk recently; Naoko had been forgetting to lock the door, had forgotten where she'd placed something, had forgotten important dates.

The room before her was covered in three or four cardboard boxes, each half-heartedly packed. Despite the fact that she had a while to go before she was due to leave for university she had already begun packing things away into the attic – and although she knew it meant less work later, it made her heart ache to see the room she'd claimed as her own slowly dissolving into the bare necessities. Now only her bed, her desk and a few choice items remained.

She hated the room the way it was now. Empty. She didn't need the reminder that soon she would be leaving all this behind... moving away from everything she had ever known...

And that included the Bureau.

She made a disgruntled noise as she sipped her tea. Not even her home-made brew was calming her mind at the moment, and it almost always did the trick.

However, Baron's blend always worked.

There, again her mind had wandered onto that over-thought, over-used piece of memory. That one day one year ago that she just couldn't forget; that she couldn't leave behind.

"Scrap this," Haru suddenly muttered and now she had picked herself up from the floor. "I haven't seen Muta for a week; it's about time I visited him again." She shoved the rapidly-cooling cup of tea to the side – where it would probably be forgotten until later that day – and started down the stairs. She slipped into a pair of comfortable shoes as she went; reaching out for her bag by the door automatically.

"Where are you heading off to?"

"I'm going into town."

"What about breakfa–"

"I'll get something at the crossroads, mum. I'm meeting a friend."

"Oh." Her mother appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, peering down the hall. "You didn't mention it before."

"Snap decision," Haru said truthfully.

"Have you... received a text or something...?"

"Not exactly. He'll be there."

"'He'? He's a 'he'?"

Haru's eyes widened, and then she began to double over laughing. "He's a guy-friend, mum." If that. Did a cat count as a guy-friend?

"What's his name?"

"Mu–" Haru suddenly cut herself off. "Moon," she improvised. It was his surname in a way and 'Muta' wasn't an everyday sort of name that she could pass off.

"Moon?"

"Erm, that's his last name. His first is Renaldo."

"Oh. Is he a ... nice guy?"

"A bit gruff, but that's all." Haru hovered by the open door. "Mum – can I go? I was kind of hoping to be gone by now."

"Oh, I suppose so."

"Thanks!" Haru scampered out before Naoko could ask her anything else – anything which she might have problems answering. She readjusted her bag strap onto one shoulder and set off along the pavement, letting the cool, summer-filled breeze whip through her hair and – at least for a temporary period – blow away the cobwebs of last night's dream. Or nightmare. Out here in the clear daylight, the dream seemed to pose little threat to her; the fear she'd felt previously almost nothing more than a dream itself now.

"Hi Muta."

She swung into a seat and leant back, looking over at the overweight cat resting on an adjacent chair. He lifted his head and yawned before responding.

"Don't usually see you about this early, Chicky."

Haru checked her watch. "It's only half ten."

"It's early for you."

"I was late up this morning, if you must know."

"Yeah, but usually you don't turn up here until the afternoon." The cat stretched, then settled back into the chair. "Did you bring some food?"

"No, but I can get some."

"Angel fruit cake," the cat responded automatically.

"I know, I know." Haru sighed and got up. "I'll be back in a moment." She made her way to the cafe and purchased the aforementioned cake for Muta; only buying a glass of water for herself.

"Are you not eating?"

"Not hungry," Haru replied. She pushed the cake towards the cat. "I really don't know why I feed you," she commented, purposely ignoring the way Muta's fur bristled at that. "I mean, you're hardly starving, and you've got Baron. And," she added quietly, "you do look like you could do with going on a diet."

Muta audibly growled. "If you even..." he threatened.

"Relax," the brunette interrupted, "it was just a thought. And, even if I did put you on a diet, it wouldn't be like one less cake a week would actually make much of a difference. Not with the amount you eat," she added quickly.

She didn't take any notice of Muta's irritation; just leant back in her seat instead and watched the world go by. She let her mind wander, watching each person pass by and wonder what a day in their shoes would be like. She didn't know why she liked doing that; maybe it allowed her to escape her thoughts for a moment, to pretend that her worries weren't her own. Or maybe it helped her to see how Baron would have seen her, that first day she had arrived at the Bureau; a quiet, nervous teenage girl, lost in her own world and lost in the newly-discovered one that the Bureau resided in.

"Hey, Chicky, you okay?"

Muta's gruff voice brought her back to where she sat. She blinked a few times, as if readjusting herself, then smiled down at the cat. "Fine, fine," she reassured. "Just..." She yawned and so her words trailed off. "Just tired, that's all."

"If you say so."

Once again she drifted off almost instantly, and her mind explored all sorts of alleys of possibilities in her head; different choices, different times, different questions. Thoughts that wondered 'what if' to her past and 'what' to her future.

"Why do you think I can understand you?" Haru asked absent-mindedly.

"What?"

She wasn't looking over him; her eyes glazed over. "Why do you think I can understand you?" she repeated. "I mean, I could understand cats long before I ever went to the Cat Kingdom, so why do you think I could?"

If he was flummoxed by the sudden question, he didn't show it. Which was a very Muta thing to do, really. "Does it bother you?"

"No – of course not. It's just... a little unusual, that's all." A little unusual. She'd tasted so much more than 'a little unusual' last year, but since then her life had settled back into its old routine, like dust. Her adventure into the Cat Kingdom had shaken the – metaphorical – dust clear, but afterwards the dust had floated right back down to its original place. Undisturbed and unbothered by what had shaken it clear in the first place. That was what her life felt like. Perfectly ordinary.

Well, almost. She'd hung onto the last few strands of "strange" she had left – Muta, Toto and Baron fitted naturally into that category. Her cat-speaking ability also slotted in, although she rarely thought about it like that.

Evidently Muta had been thinking along the same lines, for he snorted at her remark.

Haru didn't comment further at it, but a light frown burrowed itself into her features. Then she seemed to push the thought aside. "Can we head to the Bureau today?"

"So early into the conversation?"

It was Haru's turn to laugh. "Conversation?" she echoed. "You mean, the few comments you've made between bites?"

"I say what I mean."

"And mean what you say," Haru finished, grinning. "So, are we going?"

Muta stretched out once again, but this time he actually got up. "S'pose. You wanna race?"

She grinned again. "I've been practising."

The noise Muta made may have been a laugh. "Really? Come on then, see if you can keep up." He jumped to the ground and made his way along a familiar route, weaving between the legs of chairs and heading towards an alley Haru had travelled down many times before. Haru followed, ignoring any strange looks she got for walking after a cat, and was unable to resist the smile rising to her features.

Muta looked round to check she was still there, although he didn't doubt she was following, then broke into a run. With this cue, Haru also increased her pace, now sprinting through the alleyway. The cream cat branched off along a different route while Haru leapt up ledges until she came to a low tin roof, which she sped across. She looked up and saw Muta running along a higher roof; she didn't bother to wonder how he'd got up there. Instead she channelled her energy into clearing a rail and landing safely on a series of thick stone steps, and with several months of practise she carried on with the same speed and came to a considerably easier section of alleyway to sprint down. Finally the alley ended and, digging her fingers into the side of the wall, she changed her direction so that she was dashing towards a low archway.

She skidded to a halt when she saw the round figure of Muta sitting in his usual seat.

"I must admit," he started, "you are getting quicker." He casually flicked one page of his newspaper, but didn't look up. Haru was sure though that if he did, she'd see a very smug expression.

"Cheat," she said simply.

"Hardly."

"If I were a cat, I would've beaten you without batting an eyelid," she told him as she collapsed down on the stone paving, resting her head against the pillar in the middle of the miniature village.

"If you were a cat, we would've failed in getting you out of the Cat Kingdom," Muta reminded her from behind his paper.

"Formalities," Haru muttered. "Anyway, my point was, if the race was on equal terms, you wouldn't stand a chance."

"Whatever." Muta leant back on his chair and knocked on the window of the house behind him – or, to be more precise, the Bureau. "Hey, Baron!" he hollered. "Haru's here!"

Haru's stomach did an unintentional flip; the butterflies returning – like always – with a vengeance. There was no sunset, but still the Bureau seemed to gleam, shine, for a moment like it was its own private star, and then the light returned to the normal mid-morning brightness.

As always.

The wooden doors of the house had swung open at some point, and a familiar form stood silhouetted against the interior of the Bureau.

The butterflies sped up in their mad dash round Haru's stomach.

Baron.