The Curse of the Cat

111. Broken

'You haven't looked this nervous since your hospital trip,' Tomoko said with some amusement, watching her son sit on the couch and fidget. 'And I can see you're not reading that book, so don't bother pretending.'

Koichi blushed and snapped the book shut; it was true, his eyes hadn't even been moving from a blank spot at the top of the page. 'I've never been to a friend's house,' he pointed out.

'Then I wonder if I'll have to carry you down the aisle for your wedding.' Tomoko chuckled at the very thought. 'Seeing as you wouldn't have married before either. I wonder what Zoe will say.'

'Mum!' Koichi blushed at those words, though not even Tomoko could work out which part of her statement he was reacting though. Though, she reflected, there were ample other opportunities to confirm her mother's intuition – particularly as she approved wholeheartedly of the spirited girl who had made her son so happy and carefree.

Even if carefree meant acting like he was going to kindergarden for the first time, and the happiness he had gained foreshadowed an even deeper sadness in her future. The thought was quick to gloom her mood, and when her son's eyes flickered up to her she was quick to smile again.

'Kindergarden photos,' she said, causing him to blush again. And it was the perfect idea: she had plenty of photos decorating that time, including all the adorable ones of her son clinging to her skirt or getting into some sort of strife (the one where he'd accidentally managed to colour his cat form pink was her favourite – albeit they had barely managed to avoid discovery during that incident) and they were enough to make her laugh for real even as the future loomed.

She left the albums open after she'd dressed him up and sent him off, just so she could look back at them.

'You go have fun,' was what she said, and meant. That price he would have to pay…later, later – hopefully never.

112. Stop Time

Tomoko watches her son leave with a smile that quickly fades. The kindergarten photos are still there, a picture of innocence even when the echoes of laughter had long since faded away. Her mood turns gloomy again, and this time there is no Koichi to catch her, so she doesn't force it back. Instead, she can think of the past and the future until the tears run without restraint down her cheeks.

She is happy, but the date was looming closer now, and she cannot help but be sad and scared as well. And she can't kid herself into hoping it won't happen; it will and there was nothing they could do now to stop it. Or ever, because as much as she wished it could have been different, fate had tangled the Cat and the Rat too closely together to tear apart.

That was what fighting did: tear people apart. They – Tomoko and Kousei – had been torn apart like that, and their sons were fated to go down an even thornier path. And yet they'd almost reached the end with the Rat ignorant.

Except this crucial point was where they'd met again, and things would go badly no matter which way the corkscrew spun. And that was the future she couldn't ignore. Even if her son could drown in the present awhile, she could not – could not because she was not surrounded by those emotions, that love, to take her afloat.

Instead, she hadn't faded photos that hadn't weathered the passing time, proof that nothing ever would. And a fool's hope, because she still clung to that hope of hers that Fuyuno would change his mind.

113. Alcohol

JP's friends arrived with varying degrees of nervousness, Koichi being the most obvious and Takuya looking as though he was just another child of the Shibayamas. All had brought their presents, and after a bit of parental protest they decided that opening them would be the first event of the night.

So Mrs Shibayama poured them some juice (non-alcoholic of course, since JP was the oldest of them and still not twenty) and left them to the living room. The presents were quickly opened and admired, then carefully put away as JP displayed his pride: a tray of homemade cookies that were quickly devoured.

'Well,' Mrs Shibayama said, in some astonishment as she brought another laden tray. 'Maybe I shouldn't have made my cookies then.'

'No, no,' JP said hurriedly. 'Your cookies are the best, Mum. Really.'

And they were admittedly better than JP's, though he didn't seem to mind that. 'I'm getting better,' he said – before he remembered something else. 'Speaking of getting better, you're still looking a little peaky.'

He was talking to Koichi, who'd reached for a cookie at the same time and missed the gaze. Still, it was rather obvious who was being addressed, and he mumbled his answer into his lap. 'I'm feeling fine now.'

He wasn't wearing the mask either, but then again the environment they were in was far more enclosed, and none of them were sick. In school or outside it was always another story: too many people, too many germs, and for someone so sensitive to it all it was a living nightmare. And yet, staying indoors all the time made him feel claustrophobic; not only did the Cat need freedom, but he did as well.

But there was no denying that Koichi was a little pale still, and his eyes a little red. But he was smiling (though it had dimmed a little at the mention of his condition) and he was delicately nibbling the edges of the cookie like he always did. And then Mrs Shibayama came in with more drinks and JP fetched cards and some board games, and the conversation exploded into other matters.

114. Pauses

It was Takuya's idiotic idea to play truth or dare with the bottle, and the others stayed far away from getting a dare from him. Unfortunately, that gave Takuya a free reign to ask questions they weren't too thrilled to answer. Like Zoë awkwardly explaining why she'd never made friends before them, JP why he'd used to eat so much chocolate in the past, and Tommy just what TV show he'd been named after.

They got their revenge, piling him with dares that were safe with a parent in the house but no less mortifying to the victim. So far though, the twins had been out of most of the avocation: Koichi's questions were tentative and innocent and a refreshing change – but a game didn't get its true thrill until it some drama occurred in it.

And Takuya's question to Koichi stopped everyone short.

'What happens to the Cat of the Zodiac?'

Koichi didn't answer for a bit, but Takuya didn't take back his question – not like Koji had tried to intercede on Zoë's behalf. Maybe it was because Koji thought the others deserved to know – and, of course, he already knew the answer.

Koichi wasn't looking at anyone as he, finally, answered. Flat, unemotional, but an answer. 'Life imprisonment.'

Koji averted his gaze before anyone could look at him. He could imagine their reactions anyway. Shock, horror, slight pity… It was a mark of how different the cursed Sohmas were, that he had felt nothing when he'd first heard the fate of the Cat.

115. Affront

They play a few more rounds before Koichi suddenly stood. 'Fresh air,' was his excuse, and while not necessarily believed, they accepted it and let him part.

A couple of minutes later, Koji went after him. He found the other outside, playing with a cat his own sadness had attracted.

'I hope no rats come,' Koji said absentmindedly.

Koichi turned around, but he didn't seem surprised. 'You're blocking the sun.'

It wasn't rude, but blunt and unexpected… until the obvious reason connected, and Koji had to refrain from hitting himself at the tastelessness of the thought. June wasn't far at all; their birthdays weren't far at all, and after the wound be the ending of light, friends and freedom.

Now that he knew Koichi – even though it wasn't like one brother should know another, far from – it sounded like a horrible thing. Before, it had been like the news on the streets, people being born and dying every minute while most of the world walked on without looking back.

Koichi gave the cat in his lap a hug, feeling its soft warm body and fur against his cheek. Koji just stood silently; there wasn't much he could say.

'I thought at first I didn't want to know you,' Koichi said suddenly. 'Any of you, because if I did, having to say goodbye would hurt that much more.' He laughed. 'Can't miss what you never had or something like that. You don't know how many times I'd almost ask Fuyuno to just lock me up and get it over with.'

'You can't!' Koji cried, before catching himself. 'I mean, you couldn't, or didn't…'

This time the laughter was genuine. 'I didn't,' Koichi said, because part of me kept on hoping something would change. Something that would save me from this without having to fight my twin.'

Koji stared at the back of the other's head. 'You'd known,' he said. 'You'd known we were twins.'

Koichi nodded into the cat's fur.

'But – ' Your freedom's more important. Your life's more important… and one fight wouldn't change a thing.

'It would.' Koichi hadn't spoken aloud, but the sentiment was plain on his face. 'And family, friends… those are more important. At least, I hoped they'd be.'