CHAPTER137

I do not own Skip Beat! Yoshiki Nakamura does.

November 3rd.

Rain blessing.

Japan. Two am.

He dropped his phone on the passenger seat as he drove through Tokyo's night. His latest script rolled up and keeping company to his phone like an indicator of how late he had finished.

Traffic was quieting down as he escaped the downtown, and he let his car move aimlessly. The crowds vacated, and he pushed for the speed limits, letting instinct decided where it would take him. Up and on the huge driveways he went, just in the outside rims of the big metropolis.

The bright clarity of the night granted him full view further ahead, on hills and nearby lights, on the living galaxy splattering the midnight … distracting him from his melancholy.

It was beautiful. His mind could see it. But why could he not feel it? Why did it feel so far away?

Like a lone road you cannot reach anymore. Like a beauty that can't touch you … move you anymore. As if you were on the other side of a screen displaying colours, that cannot flood your black-and-white reality.

Yet another evening…

He wondered … just how long it would keep going…

This void sucking him through. This greyness vampirising him out of his life.

How long would it take?

… for him to break.

To welcome with open arms oblivion … seek it out even … hunt it down in despair… Filled with sorrow … and madness.

Just to get a respite … a hidden shack … to numb this scream … the yell that always missed tumbling out from him … his soul's howl for her.

But in this fogless night, not a cloud was there … as if the universe was mocking his escape's desire. The soft growl of his car moving forward too shushed to silence his thoughts, his gaze suddenly caught the sight of an illuminated park as he drove by … alighted greens in a forest of shades and bricks and walls' shadows.

He was a few miles further when he abruptly curved around and quit the big driveways, only stopping the car when he was parked by the huge park's side, car's nose hidden just under the old branches of a heavy oak.

His leather shoes screeched under the grovel making the path inside, and he followed it to this rhythmic sound. Sparsely, fallen leaves decorated the lawns, though, mostly tidy mowed and shadowy grass filled the park. The hilly grounds in various tones of shades, there, where the lampposts didn't illuminate around. But wind had had its ways with it–despite what he could guess what scrupulous work to make all the grounds as spotless as possible from the city–and was vicariously whooshing more of the end-of-autumn brownish leaves on the faded greens.

The air was both peacefully quiet at such an hour and creepily deserted. It was chilly and filled with a lone wildness that comforted his soul. The kind of breezes that possessed the aptitude to sneak under your clothes and give you the first shudders. The last blows of colours foreshadowing winter at your door. When warmth had vacated … but barbed cold hadn't set foot in its stead … not just yet.

Very matching, escaped in his mind, as he thought of the frost inside him.

He delved deeper into the park, bypassing nude cherry blossoms and maples, and contouring a picnic area. Being seen was not part of his plan. His mind didn't have the luxury of fortitude against a public, right now.

His steps only stopped when he spotted a bench near a pond. Isolated. But more importantly, it was partially buried under a majestic Thuja tree. The main pointy top was beyond his sight, but the buddy had grown so much, its branches were going in every direction, for lengths.

The poor state of the bench was probably partly–if not all–due to how many branches had been falling and scraping it.

But it made it perfect. No one would come looking for someone here. More, no one would spot him there. Even from close, you'd have to be very perceptive.

Granted, night's natural darkness could have been enough to begin with.

But the many lampposts didn't leave room for complete darkness.

Settling on it, posture and composure left him as he hunched on himself with a heavy sigh.

Immobile, alone. No job to occupy himself with, no script to read by, not even a workout to quiet his thoughts. Not even exhaustion, present but feeble, in front of the collapsing internal structure of this man.

Not enough to distract him. To make him cling to the surface. To bring back his fortitude, his determination.

Weak. He felt weak.

His desires, his guilt and despair, an awful brew rotting inside him … tormenting him and quartering between wishes and actions to take. At every week, every hour … every minute.

His hands clamped together on his knees in a last attempt to contain it, but…

Emotion rushed out.

Time appeared to pass carelessly while his mind crumbled, and when his back eventually leaned against the backrest, his head lifted heavily. Only to witness grumbling bubbling clouds ready to blow any minute. The taste in the air had also changed. It was now thick and weighing against you. A storm flavour.

But instead of rushing about to take shelter, he just observed the growls of the sky above for a long minute.

Until it all exploded in curtains of rain rapids, hitting the grounds everywhere in angry staccatos.

He let the gorged drops drench him, rain on him to the core. Wash him away from his pressure and anguish. It robbed part of his pain, carrying them to the earth.

He was able to take a good deep breath. At long last.

And he took another and another. Breathing in the rain while the rushing drops muted any sign of life he was making.

He stood.

Water continued to pour, racing down his face, trickling from his clothes and fingers. But he walked slowly, carefully. Basking in the heavy downpour like it could purify his soul of his longing.

And, though, he knew it wouldn't, this declaration of Mother's nature acted like a bigger distraction than any tool he had used recently. His focus shifted to admiration of nature's wildness, even through the painful mess of emotions he had been. Still was.

He made his way back to the picnic area, the benches suddenly looking like old sodden wood planks in this rainfall. His clothes had begun to cling to his skin, even under his vest, as water had sneaked under the col directly from his face, and had not stopped since.

Oddly, he wasn't feeling that much cold. For the most part, he was just … soaked.

Common sense seemed to barely have reached out through his muddy brain when he wondered–and reassured himself–that a hot shower would certainly prevent him from falling sick. Still, finally, his steps began to hurry–somewhat–when he reached the maples trees of earlier…

… and heard the faintest of sounds coming from them.

Ren peered around, but in the continuous curtain of water, he could not see a thing.

When he didn't hear anything else, he thought he must have been the one doing the sound when he walked–maybe he stepped on an acorn or something–but he took shelter under the second maple tree for an instant, wanting to be sure.

He waited for a good ten minutes, stretching the ear not to miss anything, but nothing came.

But then, just when he was about to leave, after a virulent sneeze had erupted from him, it happened again.

And it was coming for a little further down, near the other maples. He made a straight line in the direction of the sound he had heard, rubbing water out of his face to see where he was going a couple of times, and reaching the fifth maple, a dozen laps of his legs later.

Once in front of it, though, nothing… He toured around the tree, pushes fallen leaves away, looked everywhere he could. Still nothing. He couldn't see where it had come from.

Until, a rough screech-cough crackled out from above him.

He lifted his head in a rush, finding a crouched black furry thing looking at him a whole three metres higher, at least, than the crown of his head, nestled against the trunk of the tree to shelter itself from the harsh pouring.

He couldn't really tell what it was from here, but hearing the sounds it made–and was continuing to make–it was clearly unwell.

Ren stared at the drenched ground and the damp branches.

Risky.

But if he were careful, he could do it.

But he couldn't keep the shoes. The soles were too smooth to make it doable.

Leaning against the trunk so, he wouldn't slip in the puddle of drenched fallen leaves, he removed his shoes and after some hesitation … socks too. His feet sank into the sodden ground and leaves, bringing a grimace to his face at the freezing touch against the sole of his feet. He would need to hurry.

He set his palms on the surface of the tree. An elegant Bloodgood Japanese maple. He felt glad the creature was in this tree's specie, they often possessed a few lower branches easy to access, which was the case of this one too. It made him hope it wouldn't be too hard to escalate.

There was one issue, though. The bark was covered in moss. Thick wet moss.

One of the most slippery surfaces you could imagine.

The thing up there made another cough, and he stopped hesitating.

Observing quickly, he could see a few spots that were spared from the green, but they were few and higher, and wouldn't be of any help.

Ren apologized mentally to the tree as he started removing hunks of spongy moss on the lower branches. It came off easy and quick for the most outgrown thicker ones, but he had to pull out his Swiss knife to scrape just enough room on the higher branches for his feet to set and peel the thinner layer so he wouldn't have an unfortunate drop later. He made a reminder to himself to make a donation to the park to make up for outrage he was committing against this tree.

Water complicated his sight and dripped down from his face nonstop during his task, and it took him longer he had anticipated clearing a small path safe enough to climb in those conditions.

He was thoroughly soaked–everywhere from top layers to underwear–when he was done, but the repeating coughs he continued to hear prevented him to even attempt to wring off some of the damp weight he could feel on himself.

He placed his foot on the lower branch and started to climb, making sure he had a good hold with his sole, despite the water, before heaving himself up on one leg and hooking the other around the branch for safety.

Then, he repeated on the following one and again. Each time battling to see where he was climbing and to secure his footing.

Until,

Eventually, he found himself nose to nose with the soaked black-hole-toned creature clinging for dear life at the bark of the main trunk.

The dark furry thing trembled and tried to scurry away from him in fear, circling the trunk as it held its weight with his claws and paws, and that's when Ren finally managed to notice the feline shape of the animal, and figure out it was a cat. At least, he thought.

The darkness and the drenched plastered fur wrapping it was making it hard to guess. Ren could somewhat pinpoint the muscles of the creature, and though sopping wet, he could see a tail too. But what was making him doubt it could be a kitty was its size. Even curled around a tree and hiding, the animal appeared quite consequent. Maybe it was a raccoon. But it didn't have the famous mask.

He took a good grip of one of the nearby branches, circling it in a stronghold with his left arm, so he could move around with his legs, and already prepared to withstand his weight was he to slip.

He lifted his hand, reaching for the animal.

The thing growled at him threateningly, before being interrupted by what he now guessed was a harsh cough.

"Come on, buddy. You are stuck and sick."

The animal growled again.

"I need to hold you to bring you down."

There was another hiss when he dared bring his hand even just a centimetre closer.

"I mean no harm. Come on."He cooed softly.

There was a sudden quietness, and Ren was struck by a sudden idea.

He turned his hand around, palm up and opened it widely.

"Here, you can scent me if you want, you are fine, I won't hurt you."

The drenched animal blinked away the rain, looking at his hand oddly.

"I won't hurt you, I promise."He repeated.

A few long moments passed before he tilted his head down in the direction of his hand, tentatively sniffing it. And violently sneezing the next instant. Vexing. His hand was clean, thank you very much.

"Come on, buddy."He repeated, and when the animal tilted just a tiny bit forward, he thought he should seize the opportunity to catch him while he was close enough.

He didn't have the time to bring his thought to fruition, though. Because, just as his fingers were starting to curl in the animal's direction, the latter vigorously jumped forward, and right onto his right shoulder, gripping it through its claws in fright when it nearly toppled over and behind. A close miss to dropping down the free fall.

Still, Ren was excessively glad he had been holding the branch, and glad his coat was thick enough to not feel the claws … not too much, at least.

He wrapped his free arm around the animal's back, most likely shaking both from his recent terror and the cold.

The thing began to purr, confirming it for him it was indeed a feline, though his eyes could not see anything.

"Well, someone is suddenly less scared." Or was it to comfort itself? He had read some animals did that when they were stressed. Probably the latter.

"Come on. Let's bring you down, OK?"

He pet it a couple of times, and made sure the animal was secured against him, before carefully threading his descend.

It was harder this way, he couldn't see a thing and he now only had one arm free.

He avoided slipping twice, before deciding he had had enough playing safe midway down.

"Hold tight, buddy."

He grabbed it with both arms, and jumped the remaining distance to the ground.

He landed on the sole of his feet in a blink.

Definitively faster and safer this way.

"You are safe, now."

The feline stayed oddly quiet. But when Ren tried to put it down to slip back into his shoes, the thing grabbed his shoulder so hard he feared it was tearing at his skin, and hissed hard. He had expected the animal to want to get down and away from him as fast as possible once they would be down, but it worked for him too. The poor thing needed to be examined, and that way he would get the chance to do it.

"Alright, buddy. I get it, we'll do it another way. I won't try to move you from where you are."

He managed to don his shoes with one hand, while the other held the feline's butt, and then slowly made his way back in the direction of his car.

Once there, he opened the trunk, fetching an old sweater to wrap the poor thing in. He wished he had had two spares, though. His own clothes were so wet it was really beginning to be uncomfortable.

He emptied the sports bag he had in the trunk, and though he met some difficulties removing the feline from his shoulder–the animal seemed to calm down once it realized he wasn't left to its own devices but only put somewhere in the car–when after sitting down inside the vehicle, he set the feline and the sweater inside the bag on the passenger seat, and wrapped the animal up with the pull. Then he fastened the belt and blasted the car heater to the max.

Trying to absorb some of the excess water from his body with a towel he had had in the trunk too, he made quick work of his hands the minutes they were dry, and searched for any vet that would be open. After a half an hour of looking, he finally found a vet on duty number to call in case of emergency, and hastened to explain the situation once he reached it.

Thirty minutes later, the vet–popping eyes upon meeting a drenched Tsuruga Ren in front of his door–had examined the cat and prescribed some meds, concluding it was a worsening cold, but nothing that would not recover within a few days. But he had also warned him the buddy was malnourished and would need a lot of rich food and supplements for a little while.

The vet had also proposed to post an online pamphlet and paper for whoever might be the owner of this kitty, since the animal didn't have a chip under the skin, but had not been able to take further care of the kitty, having his hands already full with other cases. They had secured another appointment in two days, to decide what they would do. Whether they had found its family or not, and whether Ren was to keep the animal.

Ren had been surprised the vet wouldn't propose a longer time, or rather, order a longer time to search for the owner. But when he had voiced as such, feeling compassion for the unknown person certainly looking desperately for their cat, the vet had been quite determinate as he had brought a new light to this.

"'No. It's better we won't. Chip being mandatory for pets, this buddy not having one is quite suspicious."'

But they might have not the means to pay for it."' Ren had retorted, not really knowing the price of owning a pet but knowing it couldn't be cheap, but also expecting a response akin to law is law. But contrary to that, the vet had agreed.

'"That is true, and if it were a classic breed, I would even concur that it is likely, and would extend the wait before making a decision about the buddy's future home for a couple of weeks. But it is not,"'The vet had voiced, oddly insistent.

'"What do you mean?"'

The vet had turned to the kitty on the examination table, wrapped in a cover but drenched and still all covered in dirt and even a few leaves.

'"I don't have the material to give him a bath here, and a professional pet groomer won't be available until tomorrow, so I advise you'd be the one to help him out, but even covered as the poor thing is, I can see it is not classical cat." The vet had then pointed at the kitty's face. "See here, the muzzle is square and very prominent and look at this chin, it is very pronounced. Also, he is very huge and muscular, yet I can tell he is quite young. He hasn't stopped following the cord of your sweater dangling and catching it, despite the stress of being here. He is not behaving like an adult cat. And some of his fur is still randomly softer at areas it should be balanced harmoniously to the touch."'

"And then, there are those very big tuff of hair on top of his ears, which is the most notorious thing indicating it is a pedigree cat. All that combined, I can only think of a couple of breeds that possess those characteristics. A Norwegian cat, a Siberian one, or a Main Coon. Only those three would gather all this together. But since he still acts as a kitten, I would lean more toward Norwegian or Main Coon. I can't really tell if he reached his full size yet, and since he is malnourished, drenched and dirty, it's even harder to say. Still, I would say this one is at most two years old, or maybe even just one year and a half. A junior." The vet explained.

'"I'm not very well knowledgeable, but I thought cats reached maturity during the first year."'Ren had questioned, and the vet had shaken his head.

'"Not all breeds. Some takes longer to get to adulthood, and only reach it around four years old. But between the two breeds I can envision both develop mane once they reach maturity, especially the males, and this one doesn't have his yet, and while with his black and wet fur, I'm not sure, it still looks like this one hasn't reached full maturity. Meaning, it can only be a young one."'

"But what does it have to do with the lack of chips?" he had asked, petting the top of the kitty's head after recovering from the surprise, when the cat had glued itself to his belly, after managing to chew his sweater's cord to his contentment and ruin it.

'"Pedigree cats can't be adopted, most times. They are bought at a cattery breeder and need to be vaccinated and chipped and operated or castrated by the breeders themselves, when they are still small kittens, and before being acquired by the future owners. And even if we can't see it right now, just the width of the ear tuffs, which look very much like main coon tassel ears would make me think it is very much a pure breed. A kitten can cost between 225,450, 00 and 450,000 yen easily for Norwegian and Main Coons. Even males and females of a slightly older age such as this one can still rise high. Especially with the potential of growth and the fact he is not neutered."'The vet had explained before pointing at the cat against Ren.

'"Meaning an owner who buys a pure breed one, nearly always has a chip, and the means to take care of it. And on the other hand, a pedigree cat who doesn't have a chip comes likely from an illegal breeder. And even if a particular had decided to buy through non-recognized breeding farms to cut the cost of buying one, they most likely still give the chip to their cats after going through all this trouble." Sakamoto-san, the vet, had continued. "In the unlikely case this cat is still coming from a normal person, not having him chipped or neutered would place the owner in a very difficult position to take care of him correctly. We do allow cats not to be neutered in special instances, but it is rare to find a rare breed that is not neutered coming from clean origins."'

Sakamoto-san had then lifted three fingers.

'"Considering all this, this cat can come from three potential origins. One, he was abandoned, lost very early in his life and has lived all his life on the street. But considering he is socialized and not scared of us too much, that is likely this cat has spent at least some amount of time with humans."'

'"Socialized?"'

'"It is familiar with the human touch. A true feral cat that has never known humans closely or has forgotten for a long time would not have let you approach, even hurt or wounded."'

Sakamoto-san had dropped another finger.

'"It is coming from an illegal breeding farm and escaped. This buddy has no scar or special wound, besides his cold, and is young, it is the most likely scenario."'

"And finally, he is coming from an owner that not only acquired it through illegal ways but has not been taking care of him correctly."

"So, if we leave several weeks for a potential owner to learn about an announcement of a lost Norvegian or Main Coon cat, there is a high chance it would be the illegal breeder coming back for it. Or someone calling and simply lying about the cat being theirs. This buddy might not have lived all his life on the street but it must have been several months at least, considering its state. Only a desperate owner wanting to find back his cat would still be looking."

"Honestly, I would rather place the cat in a new home, whatever the case. Just to be sure it will be good people."Sakamoto had announced with a frown, before turning a grin to Ren. "That includes your home, of course, Tsuruga-san."' Ren had laughed, knowing he was only a temporary situation for the kitty, and hoping a loving owner was found, or a new home. And truly, he was not sure he would be a good choice.

'"In any case, giving 48h is already generous for a real caring owner to manifest itself, and reduce the window someone with less than ideal circumstances would ask for him. Though, we do have the possibility to ask for pictures of him, per default of chip."'

"I will contact a few friends that have legal authorizations for breeding those sorts of cats, in the rare case they might have lost one, though. Onocoon Tokyo breeders might have a clue, if an owner ever acquired a cat of the sort, in the instance of a malfunctioning chip. But in the meanwhile, if you could take care of him, Tsuruga-san."'Sakamoto-san had concluded. Ren had not felt like he had a choice in the matter if he was honest. And since they had their hands full, he could just not leave the buddy to be alone.

That was how, barely one hour after exiting the park, he found himself entering his flat, both still drenched, and him with a certain amount of material the vet had given him. So, he would be able to take care of the kitty for at least a few days. A litter box, litter, kibbles and a few other things the vet had generously given him.

Ren wondered if it was his statute that made that possible, or if it was the all-too-likely pitiful and lost state he must have presented, both from the rain and the fact he needed to take care of a cat.

Not that he was completely clueless. But still, it was close to that.

He dropped everything on his counter and set the kitty, who had refused to vacate his sports bag since entering, on the ground.

Even with the heat of his car, the thing was still shivering, and covered in mud, making it hard to know what its fur would look like.

It could really use a bath.

But, as little as he knew, he was pretty sure cats didn't like water. Still, the thing was shaking like a leaf and very sticky.

But is it allowed to give baths to cats?

After another search–thanks God for Google–, he found you could, so long as it was not too hot and you used very natural soap.

He sighed as his phone shined the early hours of morning, and sent a quick message to Yashiro to postpone at least the morning of the day, and led both him and the cat inside the bathroom.

The vet hadn't provided him with soap but he found something relatively clean amongst his own products, grateful for all those samples he regularly received.

He was fearing the feline would scratch him when he set him in the bathtub and turned on the faucet on mild temperature, but the cat looked quite feeble and was trembling so much he probably didn't have the strength to fight it, and remained relatively calm while Ren sprayed lukewarm water on its fur, and soap it softly.

"Easy buddy, soon you'll be able to eat and rest. Just a little more."

He cleaned it carefully, mud pooling in trouble waters into the tub as the fur cleared, and wrapped the huge feline in a fluffy warm towel he had set on the heater once done. He rubbed the animal softly, just avoiding the belly, as the searches had warned it as a sensitive zone. He changed towels with another one, and set the animal near the radiator while he went to take a quick hot shower too, and slip on warm clothes.

Leaving the animal in the bathroom, he read the instructions for the litter and set it in the litter box, and reminded of how Kyoko put kibbles and water away from each other, installed two bowls at a separate distance on the ground, before returning to the bathroom to wrap in a final towel the cat and finish drying him.

Once finished, the kitty fur looked a lot more lush, though still a little clinging and wet, and Ren could see how bony he was. The poor thing really didn't have a lot of flesh left, and was probably very cold.

That made him realize he had forgotten to set up the basket, and went to place the comfy thing on one of the spots where the floor was the hottest, and brought back the cat, dropping it off softly onto it. Was the cat bigger than before? His fur sure was fluffier and longer he had been able to see when he was drenched. But he was so tired it was probably just an impression.

The food and the water were just a couple metres away from its basket, so Ren figured it was good for now, and the vet had given it the antibiotics of today.

Meaning he could finally rest. He dropped on his couch, idly and only now noticing how the feline's fur actually had nuances but too tired to try to really make sense of it right now. He pulled the comforter out of the backrest, and killed the lights off, falling asleep nearly instantly.

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

In an unnamed building, inside a vacant room, shrouded in shadows and abandoned chairs, the dim light of a forgotten white screen let you guess graphics and numbers, and cast translucent stripes on the metallic tiny chairs. The abundant darkness of the early evening in the last month foreshadowing winter didn't allow lights to really penetrate the vastness of the room, swallowing it all into its jaws, as it reached a third of the space.

And cocooned in a blanket, only lurkers, and people who vowed to secrets, would find comfy, three people had gathered. Edgy and pacing, they were hushing at a fast rate, struggling to keep the whispers.

"It cannot go on!" Said one person.

" … but if you are wrong…" replied another.

"But if I'm right– … and I am right, I'm sure of it."

"Do you realize the risks you'd be taking?"

"The consequences if you fail."Said a third.

"We cannot do nothing! It is way past that time!"

There was a long pause before one replied.

"That is true enough."

"But are you really sure? Like, with certainty?" asked the other.

"Positive." And if one had managed to decipher the person replying, they would have seen the vehement nodding.

"Alright."The others two eventually said.

§§§§§§§§§

PS: Well, look who is back.

Yes, me. I don't know if many people are still following this story but I'm thankful for all the people that are.

I know some of you are getting impatient and I understand. But hang in there. I'm keeping my promises, just a little more. We are nearly there.

Besides this, I hope everyone is having a good beginning of the year, and wish you all many good things. A lot of joy and love for all this year and the following. Let us hope in a brighter future.

Kisses to you all and see you soon, hopefully.

Mimagfan.

AUTHOR OUT.