Yagami's Little Girl – Interlude #2: Welcome to the Place Where We All Say Meow
Written By: RinoaDestiny
King of Fighters and Iori Yagami belong to SNK
Iori liked cats.
It was with this in mind that he decided one afternoon to change his usual schedule. Usually, that meant nothing much but he called Mako and asked if she could look after Aoi for a few hours. Her schedule being free, she agreed without asking any questions. Not only was this a relief to him but it allowed him space to think, flicking through his phone as he decided on his course of action.
Osaka was known for its cat cafés and while Iori was used to buying milk from convenience stores and feeding the strays, he'd never visited one before. He just didn't seem to belong, to fit, in places like those. They seemed above him – far better – and he just tended to stay away.
Recently though, he'd been feeling at odds with himself. After the funeral, he couldn't connect what had happened with whom he was – who he knew himself to be – and it confused him. Iori didn't like being confused. He didn't like not being able to place his identity.
And so, this space. This change of pace.
He checked the reviews, checked the locations of each renowned café, and decided a day trip wouldn't be a bad thing. Several cafés were located near Shinsaibashi Station and he could make up his mind after he got off the subway. Lightly dressed in one of his lavender shirts and a pair of black jeans with his standard black shoes, he made sure he had some money on hand so that he could take full advantage of this rare excursion.
Cat cafés didn't seem expensive but he wanted to have a drink and perhaps some treats on hand.
Truth be told, Iori was a bit on edge.
He didn't like being with people. He didn't like interacting with people. It was the reason the King of Fighters tournament pissed him off. He just wanted to get to Kyo – screw the rest. The few exceptions in his life – Michiru, Aoi, Mako, Uchida, and possibly Ayase – were permitted. Allowed. Other than that, he was completely hands-off and didn't like small talk.
Yet here he was, in the middle of busy Suita, mingling with salarymen, housewives, school children, street-smart youths and fashion-forward girls, on his way to a café where he'd be greeted on his way in.
The cats. He was there to see the cats.
A few girls spotted him, pointed and began snapping pictures on their phones. Iori hoped they wouldn't approach him. He wasn't in the mood for that, for amusing them and signing autographs and standing there sullen while they took selfies. The good thing about groupies was that they attended the concerts, paid for each seat, and some merchandise if any were offered. The bad thing about groupies was that they followed each musician, knew their names, their faces, obsessed over them on websites, and acted like mini paparazzi.
Essentially, stalkers.
There was something darkly ironic about that line of thought, but Iori let it pass.
He left his fangirls behind, took the one-way train to Shinsaibashi from Esaka Station and slumped into an available seat. People left him alone if he didn't make eye contact or acted like he was asleep. People here in general compared to the rest of world were polite and minded their own business. During the tournament stops, he'd been forced to interact with the locals in each country and some were worse than others. Having to grit his teeth and bear it – or go crazy and start maiming people – made him aware how fortunate he was Japan built itself on communal peace and unity.
Still, there were people. He didn't like it.
The smooth movement of the train's passage – a gentle swaying, still – put him at rest. He tuned out the people around him, the natural noises in the compartment, and kept one ear open for the train service's announcement of arrival.
It was sooner than he thought.
When the train came to a halt, doors opening, Iori muscled his way through the crowd and made for one of the exits. He knew the cafés were in the same area – dependent on which exit taken – but Osaka around this time had decent weather, if a bit muggy. Having survived worse, he chanced the humidity and surfaced into the heart blood of the city.
It didn't take him very long to come across a cat café after a brief stroll.
The front of the café was nice – simple with its signage and wood exterior – and made him feel comfortable. That was rare. Iori couldn't recall ever being totally at ease – with himself and his circumstances – but he felt relaxed now.
The cats. It was always the cats.
He opened the door – the wood trimming and glass a nice weight in his hand – and let it close behind him as he heard the standard "Irasshaimase" from a college-aged girl. He wasn't here to make small talk, though, so he quickly got down to business. After paying for his time and the fee for his drinks, the girl told him that the room was free. Motioned towards it and Iori saw through glass brightness, light on wood, and movement beyond.
He moved toward the beyond.
The door slid open at his approach and closed as he entered, quiet and effortless. All around him were cats. Multiple breeds, personalities – there, a sleepy one; here, a playful one – different ages, and levels of curiosity. Inquisitive eyes looked at him – he saw blue, gold, green, hazel – and some of them blinked as they got closer. Sitting down in that bright room with sunlight slanting in, Iori held out his hand to a soft-stepping little Siamese.
"Hey."
He kept his voice low, kept it soft. He didn't want to startle the cats or frighten the kitten with the regal blue eyes. She approached his outstretched hand, studied it, and then moved under it, fur soft against his fingers. He stroked her, then, gently; a tiny purr of satisfaction emitted from her feline throat.
The other cats, as if taking her cue, began to gather around him. Some curled up next to him – a pretty Abyssinian and a few Persians – while one tried to get onto his lap, fat paws sinking into his legs. Iori felt the claws. Making room for the big one to amble comfortably onto him, he lifted the tiny Siamese onto his palm, cupping her with his other hand. She licked his fingers, small pink tongue flicking out.
There would be cat hair over him and the smell of cats but he didn't care.
In that bright room, Iori closed his eyes and dozed off briefly.
When he awoke – only a few minutes had passed – his first drink was ready on the small table outside the cat room. He wasn't much of a coffee drinker, but the latte was served in a delicate cup with foam art of a pouncing cat and Iori had to admit it woke him up a bit more. He was done with the drink and back in the room with the cats a short moment later, preferring their company to the human ones nearby.
He took his time feeding some of them next, watching as their personalities emerged.
One silky black cat sidled up to the food ladle, batting at it while a white cat with gold eyes angled for the food. It wasn't that any of the cats were starved – here? – but some were hungry and Iori fed them until they stopped eating. Tails swishing, meows of contentment and playfulness filling the air, and with some of the proud creatures circling him or being lazy on the nearby cat tree, he almost felt like one of them.
Well, he did compare Kyo to a mutt that one time in the rain.
He guessed that comparison worked. Opposites and all. His hackles did rise at seeing his long-time rival and opponent.
Half an hour passed. He eventually ended up at the cat tree, playing with them as they lazed around or sprang from branch to branch, finding their familiar hiding spots. Feline bodies circled around his ankles, tails batting against his calves and shins and meows surrounded him. Outside, the sunlight shifted, casting shadows a different direction.
His second drink was ready. He made quick work of that, too.
The little Siamese approached him as he returned, proud head turned up. "Miss me, huh?" He stooped down to pick her up, the tiny furball nestling into his hands like she belonged there. "Tired? Or you just looking for me?"
The kitten meowed.
Iori took her over by the window and sat on the nearby ledge, settling his back against the sun-warmed glass. From here, he could see the cat tree, the feeding station and the food bowls, the cats enjoying their domain and the entranceway of the café where people moved beyond. Even with all the coffee in him, the warmth here made him sleepy.
He felt the furriness move in his palms, curling into a ball as if she agreed.
That's both of us, then.
There, against glass and sun and mewling comfort, Iori slept. For once in his life, he was content.
Notes: So in this fanfic, Iori lives in the city of Suita (吹田市), which is in the northern part of Osaka. I had to decide where he lived in this particular chapter, since Shinsaibashi Station and Esaka Station were both mentioned as part of his route. Since he starts out at Esaka Station, which is located in Suita, my head-canon for this fic locked him into that city after some research. Shinsaibashi, on the other hand, is a district located in the Chūō-ku ward a little south. By train, this distance is covered within 15-25 minutes according to the timetables I'm seeing online.
As for the cat cafés in Shinsaibashi, they do exist. Since these little joints can up and close and just disappear, I didn't name any particular cafés. They seem like cute places if you're an avid cat lover and yes, drinks and snacks in some places are included with the fee. In some, you can pay a bit extra to buy treats for the cats. Sounds like fun.