Note: the cats's names are Shylo and Decibel (lol Desu). Should have mentioned that in Photograph, and content warning for animal death (not pet death; and not dark magic, but letting you know all the same).

It was sunny and warm, the windows and doors all wide open to let it in. The window above the wash basin gave only a glimpse of the pleasant afternoon. Azusa glared at the pile of dishes before him. The alternative to housework, however, was grocery shopping. The thought of small talk with the townsfolk made his skin crawl, and he rolled up his sleeves in resignation.

Nearly half of the dishes were done when he felt a weight brush against his leg. He glanced down at the offender, a long-haired black tabby. "Shylo," he said, one of the two cats Morgan had insisted they adopt. The other cat was nowhere in sight. He resumed washing without paying Shylo any further mind.

As he was setting the last pot aside to dry, a chill crawled along his nape. He glanced back to find Shylo staring at him. "What?" he muttered. "Go play with Desu."

Meow.

"Stupid cat." It continued to stare, and Azusa decided pointedly to ignore it.

He stepped around Shylo in search of a broom.

Mrrrow!

The cat followed him, all the way to the small closet in the hall, stopping only when Azusa gave up ignoring it. "What?" he hissed back, leaning on the procured broom's handle.

Meow.

Azusa huffed. The water dish was half-full. The cats were fed that morning and would be fed again after dinner. He had nothing that smelled of fish or cream or anything else cats gravitated to. He rolled his eyes at the cat and set to sweeping.

As he worked his way up from the backmost hallway, forward through the kitchen, Shylo sat between the kitchen and livingroom. The cat's eyes continued to follow Azusa's motions.

"What is your problem?" he spat.

Shylo sauntered down the open hallway between the livingroom and kitchen. Azusa took his sweet time sweeping to the place where the cat had disappeared. He glanced down the hall after Shylo, and his blood ran cold. Azusa's lips pursed, his mouth dry and no words on his tongue.

Shylo sat proudly by a bird on the welcome mat, one of its wings bent the wrong way, its feathers spotted red, lifeless.

A murky wave of aura rippled around the onmyoji, lapping coldly at the angles of his figure. He lifted his hand to the air, the broom forgotten and hitting the ground with an echoing clack. The sound was masked behind a steady ringing growing louder between his ears.

Shylo bristled at the ominous aura, slinking back and out through the open door.

"What have you done!" Azusa screamed after the cat. He had begun to give chase, but stopped dead at the mat. He had gotten too close. He stared at the bird, running his trembling fingers through his hair and squeezing at his nape.

It didn't matter how hard his heart rattled his ribs, he could hear nothing but the ringing in his ears. He let go, tracing the ghosts of letters in the air with one hand and grasping at his chest with the other. He cast a glance at his shadow. He saw nothing, but he could feel a faint magical aura drawing near.

He remained poised to attack. A cold sweat crawled down his back, a shiver in its wake, as he awaited the face behind the aura. The second its shadow crossed before the door, Azusa set to scrawling letters in the air before him.

With a startled gasp, the figure lunged forward and seized him by the wrists.

He wrenched free. Unrelenting, they grabbed at him time and again until words pierced through the ringing in his ears.

"Azusa, stop!"

He swallowed at the sandpaper texture of his tongue, resisting the pull in their grasp.

"Stop," they insisted. "Stop." Each one quieter than the last.

Azusa froze.

A kotodama?

The ringing subsided as he strained to hear each repetition. The murky aura around him ebbed, and he distinguish from their silhouette the messy green bob and the storm in their eyes. He lowered his arms.

"Morgan," he choked.

His wrists burned against the warmth of their palms.

"What happened?" they asked.

"It wasn't me."

His ghastly features reflected in their resolute stare. "Tell me what happened."

Azusa flinched. "I didn't kill it!"

Morgan's eyes widened, their grip redoubling. "Kill what?"

Azusa's gaze dropped to the welcome mat, to the tiny corpse between them. Morgan's followed.

"Oh."

Azusa's attention snapped back to Morgan. Their hold on his wrists eased until they had released him altogether, and as it left him he felt yearning for the heat of their touch.

Morgan glanced back to Azusa, meeting him eye-to-eye. "Shylo?"

"He's done this before?"

Morgan nodded. "It's a cat thing."

Azusa's shoulders sagged. He lowered his gaze.

"It's okay, Azusa," Morgan said, tentatively reaching out to console him.

But it wasn't okay. There was a dead bird on the floor. The grocery bags were abandoned on the deck, their contents scattered. The sun's light glistened on tear tracks on Morgan's cheeks.

When all Azusa did was stare at nothing, Morgan withdrew their outstretched arms. "It's okay now," they murmured inwardly. They glanced back to the food on the deck with a sigh.

Azusa bent forward and pulled Morgan against him in embrace, their gasp of surprise stifled against his chest. He held on in earnest until Morgan's arms wrapped around his waist.

Their voice muffled against him, they asked, "Are you okay?"

"How could you say that?" Azusa breathed. "What about you? I could have hurt you."

It was a hot shudder that woke Morgan that night - not the emptiness on the other half of the bed, but the blankets tucked close to their shoulders and the small white-toed ball of fur at the end of the bed.

"Azusa?" Morgan mumbled into their pillow.

There was no answer.

Morgan pulled their legs from the confines of the covers, careful not to disturb Decibel's sleep, and crawled out of bed. Easing open their bedroom door, they shuffled into the hall and towards the kitchen. All of the lights were out, except one. Through the screen door, Morgan caught sight of Azusa's bare torso slumped on the deck under that one light.

Morgan leaned against the wall, arms folded across their chest and eyes half-closed, and waited. Azusa seemed keenly aware of their aura, surely he would notice them soon.

A sharp sniff came from the direction of the deck, followed by a shake of a tin full of cat treats.

"Come on, you stupid cat," Azusa muttered bleakly. "Come home already."