He was having a dream. He knew he was. But he couldn't deny how real it felt. The wind, when added to rain, had a cold bite to it that penetrated his black coat of fur. He paused to lick his paws while looking into a blurry puddle. A reflection of a skinny drowned-looking black cat stared back. His gold eyes blinked and then turned away from the image, flicking his tail at the puddle.
He traveled silently through the night city and his paws padded quietly against the crumbling concrete of alleyways and brick wall tops. At the sight of overfilling trash, he paused in his travels and dove into the pile of scum and sniffed for food. He nudged at the badly wrapped tuna fish and dragged it out of the trash can. It smelled good to him. The sight of the dead, limp, slimy creature made Saga want to puke, but it smelled good. He took a tentative bite before his ears perked up at the sound of a yell. He turned and then saw a red-faced, fat fish monger waving at him with a stick. Saga hissed and then left his food. It was funny. He was a black cat, so he was considered good luck in Japan, yet no one wanted him.
The rain crashed down harder, but Saga saw a glimpse of the end of the thick, stormy gray clouds, miles away. It was bright blue and it hurt his eyes. He went for it anyway. As a cat, he hated the slick feeling of water rolling down his back. He trotted along the city and then started running and then he started racing, urgently towards the end. The surroundings became blurs and neon lights and leather shoes and plastics heels disappeared. It was like he was on a treadmill with the floor going faster than he could and there was no way to stop it. Suddenly, he could see the surroundings clearly even with the speed he was going at. Everything was getting smaller. It was shrinking into inexistence. Or maybe, he was getting bigger. His large paws crushed the tiny houses. He heard the sound of screams and crunching: the sound of destruction. He shrugged it away and he came to the countryside. Kagawa. It was peaceful. He could finally slow down and take a break. He started going slower and slower and then he was frozen. He couldn't move anymore and saw only darkness before he heard a bell ring.
The shop door opened and a child pranced in, giggling. The kid was wearing a red heart as a mask to cover his face. Somehow, Saga knew. The kid was a boy. Then the view changed. He saw from the child's point of view, all the trinkets and baubles in the dingy, cluttered antique shop that every dreaming adult believed they could make a fortune out of. And then he saw himself, a porcelain black cat with a green collar that was frozen in the shape of an ugly hiss, but the kid smiled at him and stared with wonder. The kid was about to reach out, but then the child's mother came in and slapped his hand away. "Don't touch anything, you might break something and then I would have to pay for it. And you know how your father would complain, saying I was at fault for bringing you up badly." And then she turned, and Saga saw his own mother's face.
Saga stared as both figures disappeared and he realized he was sitting in a company office on the receptionist's desk, but he was still a porcelain cat. The workers who walked by complimented the receptionist on how pretty the cat was. But then they all left. One last worker came in, the worker had no face. He was holding a child's hand and then the child pointed at Saga. "Candy!" The child took away the lollipop and the receptionist sighed. "I'll have to go buy more now. That was the last piece of candy in the cat." Saga saw himself from the receptionist's view. He was a cat jar. And then Saga realized that he was an empty, china cat.
He was a fake, hollow piece of porcelain.
Day 3 (11: 23 a.m.)
Saga opened his eyes and felt his body ache just from moving his eyelids. His head still ached. He probably still had a fever. He closed them again. Who cared where he was? He let out a soft moan and then rolled over on the bed to get more comfortable. He then noticed the faint sound of rushing water. It stopped and then he heard the rustle of towels and the click as the door opened.
"Yo, Takano."
Saga didn't reply and shoved his face deeper into the bed. He usually forgot his name was Takano now. He didn't really want to remember. His load about his da─about his mother's ex-husband had dropped on him about the same time as that boy's. And it only served as a reminder that stung. But, at that point, no one cared what he felt. He felt like both the Little Boy and the Fat Man had been dropped on him all at once. Now all he had was a bunch of radiation and was dead. At least the war was over. He had certainly given up. What else could he do?
"Yo, Takano." The voice had turned slightly irritated. "I know you're awake."
Saga replied, with his voice slightly muffled by the pillow, "And to whom am I speaking to? I don't talk to strangers."
A wet towel was thrown at him. "Yeah, but you certainly do fuck them."
"Sex doesn't involve talking."
"Well, whatever, that's what I picked you up for though. Now you owe me a favor. My new partner had a nice face but he sucked in bed, so I ditched him."
"Nice, so now you went for the guy who has a jacked up face but is good in bed. Thanks for the compliment. So then what? You couldn't do it while I was sleeping?"
"Haha. I wanted to get something out of this. Not to do all the work."
Saga rolled over and looked at the stomach and towel covered crotch of the owner of the voice. He didn't bother to look at the face. Most of the time he didn't bother to remember the faces of any partners. When he rolled over, he noticed. He was in a love hotel. A pretty shabby one at that. At least the bed was soft. He pulled the blanket up higher and said, "Don't care. Don't give a damn. I don't feel like it. My wallet's in my pants, but I'll you've probably already helped yourself to it."
"I did. I got lucky. The man who beat the crap out of you was too prideful to take your money. So then…I take it, all $167 is mine? I paid for the hotel and your drink with the rest of your money. "
"Go wild."
"…are you sure that you're not up for sex? Money's nice, but not as nice as…" The man ran a finger along Saga's bare arms.
Saga didn't reply.
"Fine, fine. I'll take what I can get. Well, then see ya. And, you might wanna find a doctor. I don't want your death to be blamed on me. Also, since you're outta cash at the moment, you might want to leave the hotel before twelve." The man slid into his clothes and grabbed his bag before he left. There was a soft click and Saga was all alone.
Saga grabbed a neighboring pillow and put it over his head to make a Saga head sandwich. It'd be nice if someone could eat his flesh, and leave nothing but cleanly picked, white bones. Maybe he would rename himself Jack and go find a giant who would be willing to make him into roast and them grind his bones into flour. But…that sounded like a stupid fairytale. If fairytales existed, then…but they didn't. And he wouldn't have a happy ending.
Well, since he couldn't have a happy ending, he might as well go do something stupid. It would be doing something at least, since Yokozawa was always griping at him to wake up to reality and do something instead of wallowing in self pity. He groped around for his cellphone, thinking that he ought to leave. Running away from unpaid hotel fees took more effort than he could give.
(8:45 p.m.)
Saga walked out at night, with bright streetlights flooding the road towards the apartment that he had planned to meet the others at. They were going to go all out and welcome the noob that he was, to fishbowling. To celebrate, they had gathered a large party, and all of which were willing to put out afterwards without a complaint.
He looked at the address on his phone and then glanced up at the apartment building. It seemed rather familiar. But, forgetting that, it seemed a bit too nice for a bunch of kids to be getting high at. A classmate yelled his name, "Takano-san!"
Saga turned and the boy he turned to look at had dark circles under his eyes. His face was sucked in. His pallor was yellow and sickly. He smiled, showing the gaps between his teeth and said, "Nice, ain't it? Figured it'd be best to get high and fuck some people in a nice place. Not that we'd care after the drugs, but hey, Jimmy offered it up, saying his parents were out till the end of the month. Now let's go in and give you the first taste of the good lif─"
He was cut off as they heard a yell, "Saga-sempai!"
They turned to see a figure running towards them.
Saga recognized the young man. The young man who had taken his open wound and shoved the knife a bit deeper. But the young man seemed so honestly relieved to see him. Saga felt a wave of burning irritation flow over him and the pounding of his head became even more eminent as his mood turned foul.
Saga's classmate asked, "He your guest? Nice. He looks pretty good."
At the words, Saga's sluggish mind admitted it. The young man was good-looking. His lightly tousled light brown hair was probably as soft as it looked. The man's eyes were large and green. His lips and cheeks were tinged with pale pink. His skin was light and smooth. His figure was slim and he had a soft, warm aura around him. You could see the brightness emanate out of him because of the way he held himself. He didn't seem to be confident, but his straight back and honest eyes and open expressions said everything.
Ritsu caught up to them and then broke down, panting for breath.
Saga's classmate chuckled, "Woah, man, didja just run a marathon. Dun worry. The party ain't going nowhere."
Ritsu gasped for breath. "No…haaaa….huff….just…thought….I'd….haaa…lose Saga-sempai again." Then Ritsu froze. What party? A birthday party? No…considering Saga-sempai's state…
Saga gave him a cold look, "Fuck off, stalker." He ignored the flash of pain and humiliation in the man's eyes. As the druggie tried to hit that brown-haired man up, Saga looked at them coolly and found himself wanting to leave. That man wasn't worth the energy. There was no point in Saga working himself up just because they looked alike. He looked towards the apartment and left.
His classmate whistled, "I'd love to have a stalker like you. Than I could punish such a naughty boy."
Ritsu flinched and then replied, "N-no, thanks, but…umm…that is…"
"Hey, bro, then you wanna come with us to the party?"
Ritsu froze again. He didn't want to go, but chances were, Saga-sempai would ignore anything he said at the moment. He would have to wait and convince him that he was trying to help.
The classmate took Ritsu's long, awkward silence as a yes and slid his arm around Ritsu's shoulder, pulling him along. Saga's figure had long disappeared and Ritsu, feeling a sense of uneasiness, followed.
