"Oh, and by the way," Touou said gruffly, casually, as he wrapped up his survey report. "Eleven came in."
I looked up, only mildly surprised - at the message, not the identity of the messenger.
"What, already?" I said.
Ever since we had begun doing this, over half a century now, Touou always seemed to be the first to know about the new arrivals. He had to be actively keeping tabs on it, and I suspected he was possibly even contacting places himself, at least in a few instances. But I never bothered following up on my suspicions. I was certain I was correct, in any case.
It was heartwarming that my long-time colleague and friend, a rough mountain of a demon, cared so much. One might suggest he was a little obsessed, but he was hardly the only one.
Touou shrugged his massive shoulders. "No more space. No one wanted them. The usual. When do you want to tell the king?"
I double checked the king's schedule, though I knew it already. He was technically busy reviewing documents and providing final comments and approvals, but urgency on those matters was low.
"Now, I suppose," I replied. Touou nodded and exited.
I tapped a screen, and found myself face to face with the back of a cushy executive chair.
"My Lord," I said.
The chair slowly swung around.
"Yeeeeeees?" said the king affectedly, one leg crossed over the other and fingers pressed together in a tent before him, a business-appropriate anticipatory pose he called the Executive Minamino Shuichi. One eyebrow was raised in an exaggerated expression of professional disinterest. It was a spot-on impersonation of a too-busy-for-you corporate bigwig.
It was also a fairly clear sign that whatever he had been up to before my call, it wasn't work. I gave him a look, making sure he knew that I knew he had been goofing off.
Sure enough, several seconds later there was a clattering sound. The king half-scrambled out of his chair, spinning around quickly. One arm swept the pile of whatever stationery supplies he had been balancing from the table, sending them off-screen and onto the floor.
"Heyyyy, Hokushin," said the king nonchalantly, lounging back in his chair as it rotated (twice) and finally came around to face the screen again. "What's up?"
I rubbed my temple. I thought about telling him to finish his work first, but realized he was probably not going to focus at all for the rest of the day.
And Touou would have been disappointed. Though he would never admit it.
"Touou says -" I sighed. "New cats."
The king's face lit up. "All right! See ya downstairs!" He hopped out of his chair and the connection ended, but not before I saw more office toys topple off of his desk, and a fluttering breeze of little folded paper figures - crumpled shapes resembling animals, cars and planes - scattering and flying past.
I shook my head, both amused and resigned, and got up to meet the king at the private entrance to Blue Gardens. From there we would make our way to the central gazebo.
All of the cats living in the gardens came from Human World shelters. The king never hesitated in accepting them, whatever their appearance or condition. The older, the uglier, the more unwanted, the better.
And the king insisted on naming every single one of them. He christened them all sorts of things, whatever happened to cross his mind. He never seemed to care about the animal's actual gender, or if he'd already dubbed another still-living cat the same thing (for the sake of managing their health, we kept track of them separately with digital implants and numbers). There were frequent repeats from some consistent favourites, mostly what I considered memorial names, to the point where I could practically predict them.
Large ginger cats were always Kuwabara (at one point, I recalled, there were at least thirteen Kuwabaras wandering the grounds). Pretty brown ones were Keiko; lazy brown ones were Atsuko; especially indifferent, unfazed ones were Shizuru; small scrappy bad-tempered ones were Genkai; visibly old and chunkier salt-and-pepper ones were Takenaka. Skinny goofy-looking cats were Yana (although they generally didn't remain skinny for long with us, so the king sometimes became confused, asking Touou and me on more than one occasion where the Yanas had gone); chubbier dark and curly-haired ones were Kaito; shy bristly light-coloured ones were Kido; shy skittish cream-coloured ones - especially if they liked water - were Mitarai; and so on.
We even had a Toguro at one point. It was probably the largest feline we had ever welcomed to the gardens, a giant, solidly built animal with a perpetually sleepy face that turned out to love belly rubs. The air would vibrate with its deep, happy purrs. Its size and disposition made it extremely popular with the regular visitors, and it became a bit of a tourist attraction. Come see Blue Gardens, give Toguro a belly rub, call it a good day. The local children - well, not only the children - were extremely upset when it passed away a few years back. We had held a public funeral in the gazebo, and the king had even delivered a eulogy.
"Mrowr?"
"Heyyy, fatso," said the king to the striking black cat that had crossed his path, and was now sidled up against his leg. Its name was actually Sensui, and it had been gaunt and distrustful when it originally came to us. Years had passed, and it had grown very friendly, not to mention a bit on the rotund side. The king had taken to chasing Sensui around the gardens every so often to help it exercise. Results were mixed as it didn't always run away.
He leaned over and scratched behind Sensui's ear, then ran a hand along its spine as the animal eased forward. Its tail hooked around the king's arm gently before sliding off. It padded over to me, snuffling and rubbing along my legs as well before wandering off into the blue flowers.
A long time ago, I had remarked to the king that I was surprised he had never named a cat Eikichi. The king had shrugged. "Kuwabara said there's only one," he had replied, and we had left it at that.
We soon arrived at the gazebo. Touou had, of course, already advised the caretakers, and they were ready and waiting with the new animals. There were also a few lucky civilians who happened to be visiting the gardens at the right time. They greeted the king with excitement, and he waved back at them cheerily before getting down to the business of cat naming.
The king seemed to have noodles on the mind today. "Ramen, Soba, Udon," he decided pretty quickly, pointing at the cats nuzzling his legs while the attendants took notes. "Uh, this one's Hiyamugi," he said, scratching the chin of a mostly white calico. "That one's Soumen." Wheat-coloured Soumen yawned, unimpressed.
The king puzzled over a tiny, weak-looking blue-grey kitten - a rarity as we usually took in older cats - before finally settling on Sayaka in a burst of enthusiastic inspiration. The rest went quickly, with Miso, Tonkotsu, Shio, and Shoyu following soon after.
The last cat was brought out separately.
"Unpredictable," warned one of the caretakers.
Little wonder no one wanted it. It was not a beautiful animal.
The beast was large - though nowhere near as big as Toguro (the cat) - and quite old, with a rather mangy, mean look and several visible scars. It was thin almost to the point of emaciation, and its coat was very pale and fading, with patches in several spots. When anyone neared, it tightened and hissed, ears flat against its head.
I frowned, more out of quiet anger and pity for a creature that had clearly been mistreated and abused than anything else.
The king stared silently at the cat until it turned its attention onto him. Then he soundlessly got down on one knee, one hand palm-side down on the ground, never breaking eye contact with the animal.
Slowly, slowly, he lowered his other hand to the ground as well. The cat's flat ears gradually lifted, becoming pert, even curious.
The king inched forward, one hand in front of the other, padding softly closer towards the cat. The animal began to settle, lying down on its stomach, both paws extended and resting on the ground before it. It didn't move any further, though its tail hovered, tentative, in the air.
Less than a foot away, the king slowly reached a hand out, turning his wrist and letting the hand drift closer to the cat's face. It cocked its head to brush its whiskers against the king's fingers, eyes narrowing almost to slits.
Several minutes passed. The king lowered his hand, drew it back slowly, and began to get up.
That was when the cat lunged with unexpected speed and energy, swiping viciously at the king's chest.
The king jumped back, and the cat twisted in the air before landing on the ground again.
The attendants and civilian onlookers gasped. The king wasn't injured, of course; it was simply a bit of a shock that he had let his guard down enough for a mere Ningenkai cat to leave a tangible mark. The fabric of his loose shirt had a clear tear in it.
The cat lay low on the ground, eyeing the king, who continued holding its gaze. After several more moments of this unblinking staredown, it finally shook itself and got up.
The animal turned, aloof, and padded away unhurriedly.
The king stood up fully, scratching his head, watching the cat disappear into the flora. When it was out of sight, the king looked down at himself and tugged at the hem of his shirt to get a better view of the rip.
Then he laughed. He turned his head to me, grinning cheekily.
"And that cocky old bastard," said the king, "is Raizen."
Author's notes: THERE I DID IT every single named monk has an appearance now. I feel like the punchline is maybe too obvious? Oh well.
There's a common line of thinking that the dead are never truly gone until they're forgotten. Aside from humour, I wanted to convey a sense of remembrance and reminiscence, and also the simple fact that whatever happens, life goes on, big or small. Hope that came through!
My sis wanted to know why Kuwabara's gang (Kirishima, Sawamura and Okubo) didn't become cat names. The answer is, I'm sure they do, it was just really starting to turn into a wall of name recitals in Hokushin's head. I erred (mostly) on the side of more prominent characters who would be more recognizable to the majority of fans. But basically, the criteria is anyone Yusuke would want to remember who is most definitely dead at this point. Keiko's parents would be there! En, Ryo and Kai would be there! So would Mitamura! So would Murota! And Shouta! And Suekichi! And Amanuma! And Kuroko and Shogo and Kaisei and Fubuki! And Shiori and Shuichi! If I missed someone you thought should be on Yusuke's cat names list, please assume it is! I'm sorryyyyyyy
Also, if you're in the market for a pet, please consider adopting a loving creature from your local animal shelter. And don't forget to spay or neuter them!