Chapter 2

"I am Prince Lune of the Cat Kingdom," answered the feline. "What's your name?"

"I am Haru Yoshioka, a nobody. A nobody, furthermore, who never wanted anything but to be allowed solitude and time with my paints and canvases," she answered. The news that she had rescued a prince had unbalanced her a bit, but she was no longer one to bow and scrape to the dignitaries. She had just been nearly carried away by one, and had been eager to get away. She didn't care if it was treason to hit that man, and she didn't care if she was a nobody – no one touched her like that.

"You have interesting ways of demanding that solitude, Miss Haru," answered the prince. "To hit my father so resoundingly, it will be hard for me to thank you…"

Oh yes; that man was the king, and the prince of the Cat Kingdom his son. It had come about in this way: the Queen of Cats had taken for her husband the youngest human prince, laid with him, and slept content in the knowledge that she would bear a royal litter within three months. While the queen slept, her new husband had escaped her kingdom and returned home, where his brothers had all agreed to wage war with the Cat Kingdom for the insult of the kidnapping and rape of their youngest brother by another monarch. The queen lived long enough to birth her kittens, but they had not yet opened their eyes when the brother's of her truant husband had entered her palace and killed her – at the expense of their own lives. Only the youngest was left to rule his kingdom, and that of the Cat Kingdom, for they recognised him as the father of the royal kittens, and therefore regent until the kittens were old enough to rule.

"I say, that's rather good, who was your model?" the cat prince asked, turning from Haru's petting to find some inspiration of how to thank his rescuer from the features of her home. His blue and red eyes had lit upon a painting of a white kitten sitting on a window ledge, staring out the window at the world beyond.

"Just a kitten I found in the street and let follow me home. I gave her a meal and she sat for me, conversation wasn't exactly required," Haru said, picking up the painting and turning it over. "Yuki," she added, finding the name of the feline written on the back – a detail she had thought might one day be important.

"Are you quite determined to be alone with your work? Wouldn't you rather have company sometimes?" asked Lune, weaving his way between the fine works, stopping to stare at some of them.

"Company has a habit of wanting," Haru answered, brushing a wisp of brown hair back behind her ear. "Wanting conversation, wanting time, wanting me to do their portrait, wanting to share a bed," every reason was spat out, as though repulsive, and the last was filled with the greatest venom of them all.

"My father will come back for you," Lune said. "He came to your house for you before, and once he makes up his mind about something, he's a bit hard to dissuade, rather like mother in that respect I understand. At any rate, it would be best if you were not here when he comes back, I would hate the idea of you burning to death simply because you wouldn't leave the house."

"Thank you for your concern, Prince Lune," Haru said, not un-sarcastically, rolling her brown eyes at the idea. It didn't appeal to her that much either. "So," she added with an exasperated sigh. "What do you suggest, your highness?"

"The Bureau," he answered simply. "And out the window, I can smell him coming now."

Haru didn't waste time asking for an explanation. Everybody knew about the Bureau, it had been an institution of fine standing before the war, after the war however, it had been rather reduced. Now it was little more than a story told to children and a last hope for the desperate.

Perfect.

Haru fled to her bedroom, threw some personals into a bag and, locking the glass door to the small balcony behind her, climbed down the drainpipe and started running again.

It seemed a shame to her to leave her work behind, but apart from one or two pieces, most of them she knew weren't up to her standard. She could do better, but for so few of them was she actually able to achieve the quality she knew that she was capable of.

"LUNE! What are you doing here?" she heard the wretched man demand of the heir to one of his thrones.

"I came to thank the lady who saved my life today, but she isn't here, so I think that I shan't be either, good day father," the cat replied, and Haru saw him slip out her kitchen window as she herself rounded a corner into the park.

A smile, utterly rueful, touched her lips as she ran. His majesty didn't like it when his feline offspring crossed his path, and particularly hated it when they called him father. A fine way to put him in a temper and rage for a while before he started pursuing her again.

The park was refreshing, and relaxing, and there were trees all over the place. Every third tree had at least one child trying to climb it for some reason or another. Haru stopped a moment to look up at the trees, and an idea presented itself.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Haru found the lowest branch and pulled herself up, then onto the next branch, and then the next, until she was up enough high enough that that man wouldn't be able to follow her in a hurry. Haru then promptly reached for the branches of the next tree and made like a monkey from one tree to the next until she was nearly out the other side of the park.

From within the calm, shaded greenery of the tree's canopy's, Haru peered down and around, making sure that none of the king's men – or the king himself – were anywhere nearby to see her. Satisfied that there were no witnesses, Haru jumped down, landing on her feet, but her hands touched the ground an instant later, so it might be thought that she landed on all fours like a cat.

Haru straightened, checked her direction, and headed off down the street. Out of town. The Bureau was… hard to find wouldn't quite describe it, but it would be getting close. If you didn't know where to look for it, then you could walk past their door a hundred times and not see it. Haru blessed her mother in her grave that she had always been very clear on that particular detail.

The young lady slipped down between a couple of houses and found the back streets – the places that had to exist, even if not everyone used them every day, or even ever. Checking the time and position of the sun, she headed east, between houses, down alleys, until she reached a dead end. On either side of her were garden walls, what was in front of her was a bit of left over brickwork from ages gone past.

She closed her eyes so as not to be distracted by what they were telling her, and stepped forward. It was as though the left over wall wasn't there. In fact, that was the truth of the matter, but people are often convinced by what they think is real rather than paying attention to the actual reality. Before her now was an archway that led to a cobbled crescent, at the centre of which was a great pillar topped by a statue of avian nature – a crow possibly, or a magpie perhaps. Without any colour but the grey of the stone, it would be impossible to truly tell. All around were houses, all perfect and charming, and small. The size of doll's houses, which suited the occupant's well enough, since most of them were, according to the stories at least.

Only one house appeared to be occupied however, and over the door were written the words that Haru had been searching for: The Cat Bureau. With a mixture of relief and hesitancy, the young woman approached the small door and knocked.