Bōfūu
It was never an issue before, until a friend followed him home from Academy and made a remark about the whole house smelling strongly of litter box.
"The cats are nice." Not really. Most of them were half-wild and most hadn't been spayed or neutered. "But my head hurts." Why wouldn't it? The smell of tomcats marking their territory was a nauseating smell and part of the reason why Fugaku never let his mother's precious pets into his room. Only an old, fat tabby got a pass and that was only because, out of all the cats, that one was his. "Can we play at my house next time?"
"Sure, Tohru. No problem."
He'd do his best not to get upset or offended, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't embarrassed. Tohru's mother, Koharu, proudly sat on the Konoha Council as one of the Third Hokage's top advisors. Tohru was her only child: her beloved, treasured, and pampered son. Kazusa and Sarani were glad their child had friends outside of the Uchiha Clan, but this was a step backward.
About an hour later, Sarani returned from work to find his son scrubbing furiously at one of eleven empty litter boxes. "Tohru went home," Fugaku explained. "He said our house smells like cat pee. I'm scrubbing everything down before I invite anyone else over." The edges of his ears turned ruddy, indicating clearly to his father that he felt some shame in this.
And this wasn't exactly becoming of someone who would be leading his clan in what Sarani hoped would be another twenty-or-so years. Still, even he had to concede that somewhere down the line, Kazusa rescued too many cats.
It started out innocent enough; a stray but friendly mama cat followed her home when she, too, was pregnant. She and the cat had their babies at the same time and so she felt a special bond with the feline. The plan had been to find homes for the kittens, but she became emotionally attached to them, too. It then escalated to feeding a nearby feral colony. More cats brought their kittens before Kazusa as a sign of trust. She was one of them. They were her dear friends.
This would be a difficult intervention, but Sarani felt he could handle it. If his son already felt enough shame to clean up after his mother's pets, then that wasn't a good sign.
…
"Dear." It was never good when he addressed her as that. "We need to talk."
Kazusa lifted her frizzy dark head from dinner and put one last bit of duck in her mouth. "About…?"
She'd bait him, knowing full well Sarani would only speak up when he had a strong opinion that differed from her own. It never was anything she wanted to hear. Sarani's dark eyes darted down toward a one-eyed ginger tom who head-butted his arm in the hopes of getting some of the duck. Then his eyes went toward a half-grown tortoise-shell who yowled and hollered at the top of her lungs because she was in heat. "…your point?"
"Our son had a friend over this afternoon, but the boy won't be coming back. I think you know why." He was going to say it. She could feel it. She held the bowl in her hands, candy apple red nails scratching the paint on the ceramic. "The house smells strongly of cat."
"They're clean animals." It came off as combative: a knee-jerk defensive response because this felt like an attack. "And everybody's litter-trained. I don't smell it."
As if on cue, Fugaku saw the tomcat backing up toward one of the cabinets and spray. There went his appetite. "That one didn't use the–"
No one told him to hush with words, but Kazusa slammed her flat palm down on the table hard enough to make her precious pets scatter across the house. Fugaku jumped. Sarani sat there unfazed, used to her tantrums. He wasn't going to give in to her this time. "You're used to it." He got up, went toward a litter box, and gestured at it. "Fugaku spent his whole afternoon scrubbing down the house and the boxes to get rid of the smell. You asked me a few weeks ago why no one wants to hold unofficial meetings in our home, or why Naho only ever invites us to her place for dinner. It's the smell."
A brave calico kitten made her way back into the room and attempted to climb Fugaku's leg, mewing for his food. Her claws felt like needles and he was sure she'd drawn blood.
Kazusa hated so much to admit it, but her husband had a point. The last time Naho came over to play cards with her, she burned incense. Her friend made discomforting faces until she excused herself long before the game ended. It wasn't only her, either. Some of Kazusa's other friends sniffed the air and stared at the cats. "So the boxes might need to be cleaned a little more. That's not a—"
"Or most of them can live outside. They're mostly feral, anyway, so–"
She was going to shut him down for that. Her face contorted in outrage. "I rescued them! They didn't have homes. They trusted me to give them a place to stay because nobody else would. I've raised most of these cats since kittenhood! I know their mothers! There's hawks and owls out there, Sarani. Those kittens could…they could…oh, you don't care."
"More like I don't understand," Sarani countered, but his wife was already giving him her outraged and betrayed face. "One or two, I can understand. Maybe even three. But I lost count after the fourth litter." These were no longer pets. These cats were an indoor colony and ruining the house. "I know you love them. I love a lot of them, too, but–"
Like an angry child, Kazusa got up, scowled, and stormed off. The door slammed so quickly that a picture fell over. There were few photographs from her childhood, but that had been one of them. The glass broke, but Fugaku still knew which picture it was.
She'd been around his age in that picture, standing there happily with a fluffy golden-eyed cat with fur the color of smoke. This animal, Bōfūu, held a special place in Kazusa's heart since he'd been a gift from her father's closest friend.
Rather, the man who gave her the cat did so in an act of good faith between two formerly warring clans. According to Kazusa, her father held this man in high regard, but that changed as time went on. Eventually, when the two had a falling out, Kazusa was ordered to give up her pet.
There was a lot Fugaku didn't understand regarding his mother, but her obsessiveness over the cats wasn't even remotely on the top of the list. At least he could clean up the mess and tune out the fact he could hear her talking smack about her husband to her meowing hoard in the other room.
…
They wanted the cats gone. Neither Sarani nor Fugaku understood any part of the love and devotion she felt; they merely wanted the cats gone.
A sea of green, gold, amber, and blue stared at her longingly and she felt the vibration in every purr. These little ones were presented to her with the sort of absolute trust only an animal could give. Who in their right mind would ever…could ever…
…who could ever say no to that face? With his tiny button nose and smooshed-in features, the cat captivated the little girl. He held her undivided attention with his copper-piece eyes and his fluffy gray fur that resembled storm clouds. Perhaps that was why the long-haired man who gave her the kitty said his name was Bōfūu. "I'm hoping he'll be a life-long friend for you, Kazusa-chan."
The man had a charming face, too: the sort she couldn't picture making any expression other than big, happy smiles. If he laughed, she felt she'd do the same without any other prompting. She wanted to stay as close to him as she could, if only because her father was the eternal rain-cloud in comparison to this living sun standing before her.
Kazusa's entire face lit up in glee, dark eyes determined to make contact with their guest for as long as possible. But…but that kitty…
"He's for me?!" She wanted to jump for joy when it dawned on her that he was her gift, not her father's. This wonderful, lovely man came all this way to shake her daddy's hand, but the main reason he showed was to present her with this marvelous animal.
"Did you really have to get her a pet?" Her father sounded exasperated, but Kazusa heard something else in his voice: he'd concede to letting her keep it. This was her first pet and she was already in love. If he told her she couldn't accept the gift, he'd be the bad guy and he knew it. "Kazusa, you're squeezing the cat too hard. It's going to scratch you."
But he didn't. The kitty purred and nuzzled against her, even putting a paw to her cheek. Those little bean-toes felt so hot! Holding him almost felt like holding a plush toy, but she loved his warmth and the feel of his little cat-motor in her arms. Her father's warnings about the unpredictability of felines went ignored. She'd show her best friend this wonderful gift later. They'd put ribbons on her cat to show he had a home and feed him chicken and fish. Lots of little girls loved to have something to nurture and Kazusa was no exception.
"If you like the gift, be polite and thank him." As if she needed to be prompted! Kazusa beamed, bowed before the man, and thanked him again for her new friend.
Down the hall, she heard her son playing with his pudgy tabby. Something struck him as amusing, at least. Kazusa peered in, curious to see what all the fuss was, and couldn't help but smile. The two of them looked right at home playing with a feather wand. That old cat had been part of this family since the first time Kazusa tried to get pregnant, years before having Fugaku. He was half-blind, missing most of his teeth, and purred like a half-submerged boat motor, but none of that mattered to her son. A friend was a friend and this one used to sleep in the crib with him.
'I understand,' Kazusa realized. 'People always cast their judgments and shadow their relationships with prejudice and private agendas. Humans have never been capable of unconditional love. Beasts are.'
Animals never raised their voices, cursing and shrieking that you were nothing but a disappointment from day one. They didn't care if you were born a daughter instead of a son or do their best to undermine every accomplishment in your life because you'd never be what they wished for. They wouldn't smile in your face and pretend to be your friend, only to undermine you the moment they assumed you were out of earshot. So long as you understood their body language and their limits, animals would never turn on you. A cat's love had to be earned, but once one had it, that love could last a lifetime–their lifetime, at least.
Few things in the world brought her more comfort than the rough touch of a cat tongue on her hand or cheek, or the warmth and resonance of a purr on her lap. Sarani complained sometimes, but Kazusa's favorite kitties could kick him out of the bed and steal his side for themselves.
It was amazing what having a private audience did to a child's self-esteem. Best friend, Naho, was already at that age where she tried to act oh-so-grown-up by comparison and didn't want to play "silly games" anymore–not when anyone was watching, anyway. Kazusa could wander off and play make-believe with her new friend.
He'd sleep in the bed with her and demandingly bump his head against her hand when he wanted her to keep petting him. On the colder nights, he'd even nuzzle his way beneath the blankets to place himself next to her slightly pudgy body for more warmth. Sometimes, if she pampered Bōfūu enough, he'd be generous enough to show her his downy belly. His cat tummy was curlier than the rest of him with traces of white and ghost-stripes swirled in with the smoky gray.
Of course, the cat wasn't exactly an angel. If she played too roughly with Bōfūu, he'd growl and give her plenty of warning that he'd bite if she didn't stop. However, in the moments where the seven-year-old cried out in pain, the cat licked the same place where he nipped her as if to apologize. Then came the nuzzling and the purrs. After all, what did Kazusa know? She was a big dumb cat compared to him. He had to show her everything.
She wanted to hide the nips and the scratches every time it happened, all because something was going on with her father. Something kept him up late at night and she'd hear his loud, storm-like bellows of rage. Things broke, he'd weave tapestries of hateful words with many names Kazusa recognized (including her own), and then came the sobs. Those were the worst part. He'd grab pillows, dig his nails into the sides, and scream his lungs out into that muffled fluff.
Bōfūu needed to sleep with her. It wasn't so much that he wanted to, but he needed to. She'd never seen him do it, but she wouldn't put it past this angry, bitter man to kick her cat if he was in a rare enough mood.
Still, she wanted to watch and eavesdrop. As frightening as her father could be during his bad days, he could just as easily be her favorite person on the good days. Was it too much to want the same kind of love that Naho's father gave her? Tenjin seemed to do everything with Naho. They trained, he bought her pretty dresses, and even played with her.
And all Kazusa, single child that she was, got was the malcontent thing downstairs, muttering things to himself that no one on earth should have heard.
She should have kept the door closed, but the cat decided he had enough of confinement. If he could warm over one heart, he could warm over another. He'd–
"How long were you watching?" Shit. He saw her. Kazusa twitched and forced out a smile, waving nervously at her child. "Can you please knock next time?"
"Ah ha ha ha ha…ha…sure." Kazusa paused for a moment, then decided she may as well act like an adult for at least a moment. "…but this is still my house. I can open a door whenever I want. Even yours."
Fugaku scrunched up his face and Kazusa couldn't help it; she saw her younger self so much in that kid's expressions, including that one. "One of these days, you'll do it without thinking and embarrass the both of us." Embarrass? More like scar for life. She knew what teenage boys could be like and he'd be there in no time. For selfish reasons, Kazusa had her fingers crossed that he'd someday fall in love with Naho's daughter, Kaede, but that wasn't working out. "Please knock? I like privacy."
It was rare she'd smile in that hurt way, but it unnerved him all the more. "Sorry…" The door began to slide closed again.
"He was my gift! Mine!" It wasn't fair to Bōfūu to be held like that, but Kazusa was a defensive child trying to protect the thing she loved most. "He's not your kitty!" This wasn't fair to her, either. Why did it have to be her problem if two grown men couldn't get along!? "I LOVE HIM!"
Bōfūu yowled in her arms, but that only made Kazusa hold him even tighter. Her father's black eyes seemed to gleam in the dim candlelight. Part of his face was shiny. Had he cried earlier? She knew full well he'd never admit it if she asked, and that would only make him insist even more that Bōfūu had to go.
Why couldn't she hold him forever and smell catnip and kitty cat kisses? "Don't make me do this. Please!"
But she could already see the harsh decisiveness etched on his face. Her daddy was so handsome sometimes, but the things he felt inside polluted that otherwise serene appearance. All she could see in him were those awful emotions. It wasn't that he hated her; this was about the man. One day, the man was his dearest friend. The next, he cursed him more than he cursed anyone else in his life.
"We aren't going to be bought by pretty words and hollow promises anymore. You love that animal. Don't you, Kazusa?" His expression only intensified in soured mania when his daughter nodded her head frantically.
Kazusa saw the face of a man who looked at her as though she'd stabbed him in the heart. Her father saw the face of a child who believed him to be cruel enough to tell her to kill an innocent creature. "You can't keep him. If you do, it means he's bought you. It advertises to everyone else in this village that our loyalty can be bought. Get rid of him."
"Don't make me. P-please. Bōfūu didn't–he didn't mean to do what he did." But she didn't know that for sure. Boy cats marked their territory sometimes and he'd spritzed all over Daddy's favorite yukata. "I'll clean up."
But the damage had already been done. She wouldn't be able to plead her case. "DON'T MAKE ME GET RID OF MY CAT!" But those hands were already outstretched, waiting for Kazusa to be an obedient child and hand the animal over.
So why didn't she run away and hide her baby? They could strike it out on their own! Who needed him? Who…
Who did her son and her husband think they were, standing up to her like this? Fugaku got a pass because of his age and because he mattered so much to her. He had no idea how difficult it'd been for her to keep a child. The fact he'd made it to this age was a miracle.
The sacrifices she'd made for family over the years were endless. For her father, she'd given up the thing she loved most. Thanks to continuing her bond with Naho, she'd lost someone even more precious. By marrying Sarani, now it felt as though she'd be pushed to make even more sacrifices without so much as a word.
She'd give and give and give until there was nothing left to her but a hollow husk of the person she could have been, had fate been even a little kinder. Had she been born a son, then maybe things would have turned out better. Had she given birth to more sons, even! Her nails dug into the wall.
"I had no idea it was going to upset you this much." Turning around, there was her calm and soft-spoken husband. As always, he smiled her way and came closer in that cautious, respectful way. It endeared him to her so much. Even with all her issues and problems, he'd come to her with open arms and love her in as close to an unconditional way as a person could.
"I never told you, did I? How this whole mess even started?" Kazusa moved toward Sarani, wrapping her arms around him. They could leave their boy alone. She could pull him into another room and lay bare another part of her life.
As disgusting as cat urine could be, Bōfūu's greatest crime hadn't been in acting like a cat. Through no fault of his own, he'd become a symbol of the worst kind: that the Uchiha heir apparent could be easily blinded by petty gifts. This wasn't about one of her father's old enemies reaching out to do something nice for a little girl who only craved a little tenderness in her life. This was about polluting the future; and for that, she couldn't keep the animal.
But at least she didn't have to kill him. "Daddy says I have to let you go." Bōfūu wasn't going to understand. She could see it in those beautiful copper eyes of his that he didn't get it. "But you'll be fine. Someone else is gonna find you and love you."
It didn't feel like the truth, though. She choked and sputtered because her throat hurt from all the sobs. She'd shrieked the worst possible thing at her father earlier, telling him that she loved the cat more than she loved him. It shut him up, though. The look on his face–she'd never been able to make him look that way before.
Good. Then maybe there was a real human being hiding in there somewhere. If so, she could force him to understand all the anguish and grief he'd caused her!
Fat, ugly tears littered her face as she put her smoke-colored companion on the ground. She'd done all she could to keep her cat indoors at all times, and now she had to turn him loose to the wild. There were hawks and wild dogs and other things out there that could maul her beloved Bōfūu to bits.
The cat did the worst possible thing: he nuzzled against her and tried to follow. This had to be some kind of sick joke, right? "No…you can't. I'm sorry, but you can't." She'd leave food out for him and if he came to get it, she'd assume he was doing well on his own.
None of her friends could take him. The message would be the same if they did, but she'd never forgive them.
"…I fed him for years," she admitted, sitting on the side of the bed. "Everyone else was so wound up in politics and face that they didn't stop to think about what they'd done to me." She shivered as she felt Sarani's hand trace across her spine. He meant it to be comforting, but it wasn't. "I never trusted him again. Even if he gave me pretty things and spoke to me with more kindness in his voice after that, I never trusted him."
And eventually, she burned all bridges with him. After he left, she destroyed almost everything he owned. They didn't even hold his picture alongside the others in the shrine. They didn't burn incense for him. Nothing, former status as a clan head be damned. And in the event he wasn't dead, she'd bar him from ever meeting his grandchild. It wasn't only what he'd forced with the cat, but that betrayal set a whole maelstrom into action.
They all let her down, aside from that cat. "But the cat, Sarani…the cat did just fine without me."
"You still saw him?"
Kazusa slowly nodded her head. "Until he was too old and couldn't move anymore, but I think he passed the word along. His babies came to me, one by one. Mama cats brought their babies to me, and…" He must have passed the word along that there was truly a kind soul out there who would look after them, regardless of circumstance.
It broke her to see her precious gift and darling friend become a stray, but at least he lived a long and happy life with other cats. The same couldn't be said for her. Some days, she wished this clan would abandon her and leave her to her own devices.
"…don't make me go through this again. I'm begging you."
