The Curse of the Cat

141. Dawn

Perhaps it's the sombre thoughts occupying their minds, but they fall into a silence that's ironically comfortable. They move onto the porch at some point, which wasn't the smartest idea but neither of them really cared. If Fuyuno walked past… well, he had nearly a month left and it wasn't as though he'd been barred from the compound.

Fuyuno could have opened more doors than he did. He could have also closed more doors than he did. And they'd all often wondered: what was it they all wondered? Surely resentment wasn't so strong… but they all said that while seeped in their own resentment.

'What do you think?' Koichi asked, suddenly. 'Why does the curse go on? Are gods really so vengeful that they'll keep an old legend alive in a secret curse but leave the rest of humanity loose?'

'Their sins are modern, huh.' Teruo snorted. 'I doubt it. My bet is some god just forgot he'd pulled that stunt. There's too many of us to keep track of, I guess.'

'That's not much of a god.' Koichi frowned. 'I mean, shouldn't the very definition of a god be something or someone who is able to observe and manage the world, including the people and other species in it?'

Teruo shrugged again. 'Random chaos versus a careful script, huh. If I choose random chaos, there's a chance somewhere that the curse will just… break.'

'Will it?' Koichi asked. 'I mean, the physical aspect might, but we grew up in it. Do you think you'll ever let go of the hierarchy, the goals?'

Teruo closed his eyes. 'I wish I could say yes,' he admitted, 'but if I could have said that, I'd have said "fuck you" with Fuyuno and tried to work out what I wanted of my life."

142. Lust

Being out of school was strange, for Chiaki. She wasn't big on the family scene, particularly with her extended family, but she couldn't deny she missed being part of a crowd. It only worked, of course, because she avoided most males and managed to escape being hugged by one in class. It only worked because few people knew she was a Sohma, and neither Koichi nor Koji were going to sell her out. And she didn't mind either of them – and she minded Koichi less so than his more docile brother even if most of the school didn't know they were brothers and thought Koichi was the more docile of the two.

But she knew better. Knew why Koichi didn't bother fighting back and it was effective in its own way, as it had always been. And she knows that if, like her, he'd pushed in slightly the wrong direction, Fuyuno might have broken as well… but then again, he was the cat. If there was anywhere Fuyuno was going to stand strong, it was there.

But Fuyuno wasn't strong. She learnt that when the dog escaped his cage. She learnt that when she slipped her own harness. And she'd been drunk on the idea of freedom that the price if she'd failed her gamble hadn't mattered. Now, it does, if only because she's now drunk on life, on the tentative freedom she has… and that's introduced a fear she hadn't had before. She couldn't toe further out of line because she couldn't risk losing what she had.

And surely no-one's so crushed that they can give up that freedom without fighting an inch. Not even the cat of the Zodiac who'd been done in by that inch.

143. Memorial

For some reason, his father had a photo album out.

His friends and brother had left earlier. The house – the compound – seemed eerily silent after they left, and his footsteps seemed louder. He wasn't sure why; maybe he'd psyched himself out earlier talking about Fuyuno and hypnosis and the cat's impending imprisonment, or maybe his friends just had that much of a presence.

And maybe it was that, in part. More likely it was the days drawing ever longer and the timeline ever shorter. And maybe it was because they all knew the full story now, and there was no reason to hide behind closed doors any longer.

But he had the photo album out. And Koji found himself drawn to photos he couldn't even recall. His father holding two babies. His mother holding a cat and a rat… and he wondered if that was the moment that had sealed their fates, but he didn't ask. His father didn't say, either. Just looked at the face of a woman who could still have love in her eyes. Who, sixteen years later, still had love in her eyes.

And then there were earlier pictures, without babies. Some with a baby bump. Some from even before that. Wedding photos. College photos. Some familiar faces. Many unfamiliar faces. The way his mother never did seem to fit in.

Even a few where his father sprouted almost-well hidden bruises and cuts… but Koji knew what to look for now. Every zodiac member (and several outside of it) knew what to look for. It didn't take a zodiac generation for an iron hand to rule their family, after all. It was money and prestige and whatever vice grip had seized them and hadn't let go.

144. Pretend

The later photo albums, when Koji looked at them later, had only photos of him and his father, and a few of the extended family. None of his mother or Koichi. And maybe that was why it was so easy to pretend, when lies fed the truth and truth fed the lies. Absence was hard to conceal but easy to embellish, after all, and after a while it was no longer necessary to embellish it. No extended family member would talk about his mother. And no-one willingly talked about the cat except in scorn.

Koji wondered when that had changed. It must have been somewhere, gradually. But Teruo had always been more pitying than scorning, to the point where he'd sometimes wind up with his own collection of bruises by stepping in. But, others would comment, Fuyuno usually turned a blind eye because it wouldn't do for the cat to die prematurely. Who would be their punching bag then?

And wasn't that just too cruel, even before he'd known who the cat really was? Because they'd all known he was human, but they'd gone along with it, at least a little, anyway.

Maybe it was easier not to fight, at first. But the more they knew, the more they realised they couldn't accept things so blindly anymore. Likewise, they couldn't act so blindly. And if only it was a time where he could hide under the floorboard and threaten to never come out unless he got his way, or whack Fuyuno over the head with his wooden sword or guitar and think that would change something…

Except it won't. They're almost adults now and that wasn't an adult solution, not at all. Even if one generation escaped, the next was doomed… and where could one even begin when hope had drained away generations ago?

145. Zeal

Chiaki sometimes saw Teruo outside the compound, as well. Not often, because he didn't go to the same school as them, but sometimes. Usually visiting his aunt and cousin, presumably. And she certainly hadn't been planning to do the same.

She'd only gone out for fresh air. And maybe that was why here was here, as well. Parks were funny like that. Owned by the government, and so one of the things technically outside the realm of the Sohma's influence. And wasn't it lovely there were places like that, places where she could breathe without having to worry about disturbing the fragile balance of her freedom.

And at least she didn't have a time limit set in stone.

And maybe she should walk past, but she didn't. She stayed until Teruo saw her, until Teruo made his way over and stood awkwardly in front of her. 'It's been a while.'

'It has,' she agreed. 'The New Year Party, wasn't it.'

'Party,' Teruo repeated, in a tone that suggested it was anything but. And, honestly, she agreed. It was a stuffy parade was what it was, but it was one of the concessions she'd made to not push her luck. 'There won't be much, after.'

'Meaning it's almost June, I imagine.' She tried to carelessly toss those words, but it didn't work. 'Isn't that a little hypocritical?'

'Of all of us, I guess.' He looked genuinely miserable but she knew better. She knew that people could pity someone less fortunate, but no-one would claim the heavy weight of another's misfortunes willingly and without regret and resentment afterwards. 'Even Koichi.'

'Really?' she raised an eyebrow at that. 'Is that idiot being self-sacrificial again?' How could someone do that; she just didn't understand. Or maybe it was he who didn't understand. Yes, he didn't fight Fuyuno but wasn't that just him sparing himself more punishment? But then, she thought, could she argue the same for his behaviour at school?

Teruo made another uncomfortable shrug. 'He says he can't fight his brother.'

'Guess not.' And maybe that's the clincher, here.

'Says he's fighting mentally, anyway. That the victory there will mean something. But will it? I mean, some cats live long lives, but can he really do it? He's always sick, or hurt… but maybe that made him strong in his own way. I don't know.'

'Don't think I will,' said Chiaki. 'I probably know him the list, and that includes the little brother with blinders on.'

And why was she still here? Why was she talking about this? She could have escaped with only sparing thoughts until June was passed, occasionally noticed his absence in the halls…

No, she couldn't. Who was she even trying to kid? She took too much notice of the small sliver of family she had outside of the compound, even if she'd never made something of it.