A Leopard Changing his Spots
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"The profit is small," he said, pausing as he doled it out. Manaka rolled her eyes at it, Migi took it without much concern either. It was only Hidarin who seemed excited, grabbing it and smiling.
"Wooo! We're making money again!"
Up front, Hyodo nodded before slipping back into his seat. Pushing on, the wipers beating against the driving rain, he pushed hard to get back to the subway station from which all three could get home from. He didn't want to think about how bad it would be tomorrow, but his eyes couldn't help but gaze up at some of the larger towers. Damn that typhoon. It may have been slamming into Kobe, but it still felt happy about flooding the skies with water here, and he'd be up there tomorrow.
And the day after that.
And the day after that.
He had to do better. OTM could have been the way to do it, it still might be, but with Retsuko and her death metal hook gone they were just another idol band, back to scraping a tiny profit that was little more than child's pocket money.
He had to do better.
He sighed, dropping the three off and making sure they made their way in. Then he went on, alone, finally parking up and slipping out, covering his head as he raced through a cascade from the overflowing gutter.
"Good night?"
He glanced over to see a tired leopardess sitting in the blackness of the living room, her face cast blue in the neon light of the small television. He shrugged and nodded; it was enough. It was more than enough.
Enough for what truly mattered.
.
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"Okay Hyodo. Now it's your turn."
Sitting up from the floor, he raced over, jumping up next to the teacher and smiling as he looked out at the class. "My name is Hyodo," he said, grabbing a piece of chalk and writing on the board. "And my father is called Supotto." Just as they'd practiced, he stroked out the kanji, his teacher giving him a tap on his shoulder as he finished.
"You missed a bit there," she said, his ears going back as he cussed himself. Stupid! After all that practice, and yes, how had he missed it. Leaning down, trying to hide his embarrassment, he finished it off.
"And what job does he do," she asked.
It was then that he stood up and smiled. He looked over to one of his friends, who's father worked as a train driver on the metro. Everyone had been saying that that was the coolest thing ever, but Hyodo hoped… No, he knew, that his was even better! He turned to the crowd and smiled. "My father works as a garbage man!" he said, knowing how cool they'd find that. Him going out in one of the big trucks, all around the city, even getting the recycling done!
He had never expected them to laugh.
.
.
"Koneksko," he whispered, looking in. There was no movement, so he slipped in and bent down, slowing pulling away the cover and seeing her there, her little face at peace as she breathed in and out. "Don't you worry. Your father is an idol manager."
With that he went to bed.
The next day he was up early, as usual. The rain was as bad as he'd expected, and the wind was just below the cut-off, so up he went. Checking his lines and harness as was habit, he stepped into the basket and slowly lowered himself down. Soap bucket prepared, wiper in paw, a long hard day of wage earning began. After that, it would be out with OTM again. A new gig, a new crowd, a new chance to make a profit.
To be an idol manager.
And not this.
.
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"HYODO SMELLS OF POO-POO… HYODO SMELLS OF POO-POO…"
He kept on screaming back at them, but they only got worse. Cleaning up his table, cleaning up his classroom, tidying this or that. The last four months of school had seen everyone tidy together, but now…
He was the garbage man, wasn't he? He'd enjoy it after all. Like father like son. He'd grow up into one just like him. It was his job. And then the taunts came: that he rolled around in it, that he was smelly…
He'd cried and screamed and even started a fight once or twice.
But they only got worse.
And then, as the day ended, his father had been there to pick him up. He'd leapt into his arms, was hugged tight and rocked, only to see all the kids teasing again, making eww noises, pinching their noses.
He tearfully told his father about it that night, and his father had said that there was nothing wrong with being a garbage man. Someone needed to do it, and he'd always struggled with reading and writing. Who cared? It didn't matter. They didn't matter, and what they thought of him, of them, did not matter.
And Hyodo had believed him, for a bit.
Because the teasing never stopped.
One year in, and he asked his father not to hold him at the gates, just to make sure the other kids wouldn't hold their noses. It helped.
They still teased him about his clothes, so he tried to make sure they were clean ones. It helped, a bit.
He bathed more too. His father was happy at first, getting him into a bath was always a struggle, and now he wanted one every day?
It was only when little Hyodo had told his father not to hold him after getting out that his father had thought something was wrong. He'd told him that he didn't want to get his garbage smell on him, and he'd asked if it was those kids.
"It is! It's always them," he said, crying. "Because you're a garbage man!"
"There's nothing wrong with being one," he said.
"Well maybe there is," he'd yelled back.
His father had hugged him back tight, telling him that he'd go to bed and go to school with the smell of love on him. Later that night, he caught his son taking a bath in the early hours of the morning.
By the time Hyodo was in junior high, he and his father did not get on. Why was the old leopard so selfish! He could try to be something else, something decent, but no, he kept on saying there was nothing wrong with it when there was. That was why those kids always teased him about being a garbage mammal Jr, even though he had the cleanest uniform in the school. It was why he'd been publicly turned down for a valentine, everyone laughing at him. All the hatred and all the insults, he'd lock himself in his room at night and cry before shouting at the person who's fault it was. The one who kept on telling him to ignore it, who kept on trying to hug and comfort him, getting his garbage smell on him. On and on it went.
In the end, Hyodo decided that the only way to shrug that shame was to prove them wrong.
His father may be selfish, may think that having a job as shameful as a garbage man was good enough for his son, but he could prove the world wrong. He'd get a good job! A job anyone could be proud of. He's be successful, respected, and if he had a child he'd have a job that nobody could tease them for.
.
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It was for days like this that he kept a plug-in fur dryer in his minivan. He was soaked through, though thankfully the weather was hot, humid, the water warm. Towelling, drying, making sure he was in a good state as his car interior cooled and dehumidified. He slipped on his tailored business suit and set off.
Another OTM gig to manage.
Another small profit to make.
He came back late at night again, though he found a surprise waiting. The lightning was keeping his daughter up.
"We had a good night tonight," he said, smiling, showing her the pictures as she cuddled into him. He showed her videos of the concert, and went into the details about how he set the place up, how he hired people to write the songs and made sure to keep in contact with the fans.
She nodded, asking to play with the phone. "I had a problem on the playground today," she said back.
"Oh, other kids teasing you?" he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.
She shook her head. "Sorta… I was up on the slide, but it was scary…"
"Scary?" he asked. "Why's it scary?"
"Cuz it's so high," she whispered, sniffing a bit. "It's so high, and I think I might fall, and it'd hurt, and they were laughing cuz I was scared and…"
He brought her in tight and hushed her down. "Don't worry," he said, pausing to think a bit. This… As long as he made it clear that this was something he just did to get extra money, OTM being his main job. He unlocked some pictures he'd taken a while ago, just checking the condition of an older wiper lift. She gasped as he saw it.
"That's so high," she said.
"Yes," he said, scrolling on. Some pictures of him and some others in their harnesses. "But we hold on tight and have things to keep us safe, and that means we can go down in them."
"You go down in them!"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He glanced around nervously. "When I'm not managing OTM, I wash windows. It's nothing, really, managing OTM is the main thing I do. Do you understand?"
She paused, thinking. "I understand…" she said, before yawning.
He looked up, the lightning had stopped. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
She grabbed him, tight. "Can I sleep with you?"
He paused. "I get up early in the morning."
"I can see you then," she said, smiling. "I like seeing you."
A silly little thing, but he supposed he could humour her.
.
.
"Hyodo… Hyodo?"
His father had found him crying over a letter, and even though he knew his son didn't get on with him, he tried bringing him in for a hug. Hyodo had stormed off, leaving his father to read the letters of rejection from the universities.
Even though he disagreed with his son, he couldn't help but feel hurt for him. It was something he took so seriously, put so much effort into. The dyslexia had never helped, like father and son, and adding to it was how it had turned out he'd needed glasses. They'd always thought it was the dyslexia, and it was only when a school nurse had recommended an eye test that they'd found he struggled to see the words on the board. Out of all the things his son blamed him for, he could accept that one.
Despite putting in so much effort by the end, Hyodo hadn't made it.
In the years that followed he tried finding a respectable job. A good job. A job mammal's couldn't tease him for. He'd told this to his unemployment case worker, but she hadn't got it! Rebuke after rebuke after rebuke; beggars can't be choosers. Had she tried to place him as a cleaner or garbage man, he'd give up the unemployment. He was a proud mammal, he'd rather go hungry than slink to those lows.
In the end, he'd had to sink, to a degree. He'd tried to tell himself that the window cleaning work was high paid, given the skillset. That it was more like polishing, rather than picking up dirt. But there were drawbacks… With every, single, garbage moving wipe he'd seen his face, looking back at him.
Showing him his failure.
Taunting him.
His wife had told him not to worry that much either, and that helped him, for a while.
But when she got pregnant, he vowed… He swore… She'd grow up knowing a father who did something she could be proud of.
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When asked to volunteer for the school, he'd jumped at the chance. Taking a day off, yes, but it was worth it so that those students could see him in his clean suit, smelling clean, looking respectable. Any bad smells were wiped off by a bath in the evening and shower in the morning. He'd finally fixed the front of his van and even had it professionally cleaned, inside and out, just in case.
He was NOT going to let her down.
The fact they were doing the talk about your parent's days made it doubly so.
This was the day where he'd see everything that he'd worked for, pushed for, aimed to achieve… pay off. It was his daughters turn, her glasses on; he'd made sure to have her tested before starting school. She introduced him as Hyodo, at first making a minor mistake with the kanji but realising it and fixing it. And then she'd spoken.
About him, about OTM, she showed a video of the concerts and a news report about the poor girl Retsuko, talking about how he'd found her as an accountant, realised she could sing, and then driven her around to keep her safe when a dangerous fan had tried to get her.
He smiled, his eyes misted up, he relaxed, almost leaning against the wall.
It had worked.
He'd been a good father, who…
"-That's not the only job he does," she said, and he froze with horror. "-Every day, he goes up to the top of those big towers and goes down in a little basket and cleans the windows too!" He was shaking her head. No, no, no, no! He'd failed! She only saw him as a worthless cleaner. She'd get teased too. He was just the same as his father and… "-That's why he's the bravest person I know," she said, Hyodo freezing. Their eyes met. "Heights are so scary. I find the slide scary, but he goes up to the top of the towers every day, and makes sure they shine and are pretty… I could never do that. I'm not as brave as he is."
And then they turned to him and… gasped?
They were asking him now, how could he do it? How was he so brave? Did anything ever happen up there? Did he ever see a bird fly into a window or anything?
Telling the bandaged up little owlet that no, he hadn't, he trembled. Why… Why were they looking at him like that? Like his window cleaning was worthwhile… Respectable… Something good… Something… Something there was nothing wrong with.
He guessed he just went via auto-pilot after that, answering questions, making sure he was good and professional for her. The rest of the day went in a blur and, by the end of it, he was buckling her back into her seat.
"Why… Why did you do it?" he asked. "I did all the OTM stuff, and…"
"That's cool," she said, "but anyone can do that! It takes my brave daddy to go up there and clean the windows…"
He looked back, blinking. "But OTM is supposed to replace that, I… Koneksko, don't you know how much those kids could bully and tease you if they think you don't have a good enough Dad?"
"But you're the best dad!" she said, leaning forward to hug him.
"No, I'm…"
"Well, I suppose you're not the best Dad," she said. "You'd be the best Dad if I saw more of you."
"Huh?"
"You're always so busy, I love you but I wanna play with you more and go to the park and… Daddy, why are you crying?"
Not long after, after telling his wife that they'd be a little late home, Hyodo pulled up outside a house he knew but had largely ignored for the last couple of years. Sure, he'd turn up here a lot, but it was more for her, at her mother's insistence, than anything. Any words here had been cold, clipped, short.
This time was different.
"Oh," said an older leopard, opening up the door. "Hyodo, I didn't… -Oooph… -Son? I didn't think you liked hugs, and… Hey, stop crying… Stop crying… Why are you sorry? Why? Oh Hyodo, hyo…hyo…hyo…do… There there… There there… I love you too. I love you too…"