[APH] The Bi-Cateral Relations
Title: The Bi-Cateral Relations
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters/Pairings: Japan, Greece, their cats
Genre/Rating/Warnings: friendship, romance/PG/none
Summary/Excerpt: It is often said that the relationships of the nations' cats are not far off from those their masters. For Greece's and Japan's, that's not quite the case, but they get there eventually.
A/N: This is supposed to be progression in several episodes, but it just looks bad and disorganized...with a lazy ending. ^^; I'm sorry! dfgjdhfkgjhdf o 3o Watch out for typos ; A; I has cold *sniff*
The Bi-Cateral Relations
Poupi was a very important cat personage. He was well loved and respected by all the neighborhood cats and kitty mayors. Even the Prime Minister's cat often came to him to ask for advice. They said he was a philosopher's cat, or the cat that personified the will of all the cats in Greece. They called him wise and offered him fish on early Sunday mornings when they would catch him wandering the docks, watching fishermen haul in their wares from the sea.
Poupi himself, the center of it all, did not mind much the titles heaped upon him. He had lived long, so long he couldn't even remember his own birthday nor his mother's face. He knew very well he wasn't a normal cat and amiably entertained various kitty worship but there were days he felt bouts of loneliness. The cats and people he had come to love eventually died and the places he deemed sacred, destroyed. Little by little, he felt a longing for a being who shared his fate.
Unable to take it one cold morning of the third of February on some such year, Poupi went from house to house like a female in heat, caterwauling loud enough to rouse the entirety of Athens. His kitty sense told him 'At last! There is someone like me who understood my sorrow, my joy and the length of my time!' All he needed was to find a bright blue door.
…but there was a ridiculous number of whitewashed homes with bright blue doors, especially in the suburbia. There were houses that threw slippers at him, houses that gave him food, houses that gave him a pat on the head and houses that shut their blue doors in his face.
Exhausted and dejected, Poupi came to a quaint home, removed from the main streets by a set of uneven, twisted steps. White shirts and work pants hung from a washing line fastened to the kitchen window and the neighbor's telephone pole. A marble statue of Athena was stashed out on the veranda, next to an old moutain bike. The house emanated age, warmth and butter cinnamon rolls. Poupi was inexplicably drawn to the house, where nine cats were draped on various perches. He pawed on its blue door.
- - - -
Herakles' first impression of Poupi was that he was a sickeningly pampered cat. The incredibly fluffy thing appeared on his doorstep on his birthday many years ago screaming 'OWN ME' with the way he sat and looked at him with large green eyes. The face Herakles made was a strange mix of disgust, pity, surprise, surrender, d'aww and mild interest. He took the cat in, not because he was unable to resist the temptation of anything cute but because he thought Poupi was a house cat that had gotten lost (Little did Herakles know, it was a child who tied the ribbon atop Poupi's head to keep the fur away from his face).
Only after several months of no one coming to claim the furry cat did Herakles decide to care for it whole-heartedly. Truth be told, none of the cats that constantly milled about his home were really his. They were strays who became comfortable with the warm concrete, constant food supply and the occasional belly rubs. The thought that always lingered at the back of Herakles' mind was that these cat would eventually leave him. They had lives of their own and valued that independence, so much so that the only times they'd probably show affection was when they were asking for some or toward their own kind.
Of course, he'd love to disagree with himself. In the first few weeks, Herakles tried to treat Poupi as he did his other cats. From their wary stares, he knew they felt inferior to Poupi for reasons he had yet to find out. The problem was, Poupi was a high maintenance cat. Hours of brushing the kinks out of Poupi's fur after his bath while the other cats were left to simply licked themselves was inevitable. It made Herakles slightly uneasy whenever the cats crowded around them, expecting brawls to break out, but when they often sat down, snuggled and slept, he realized that they had been looking at Poupi with respect.
There were many days Herakles got the feeling Poupi wasn't a normal cat. It was as curious as the heart shaped mark on his bum, the way he seemed to rise about his natural instincts, especially with sex. Whereas Herakles brought women home every some such weeks and enjoyed many rounds of guilt free sex, Poupi sat on the dining table, resting on the day's newspaper with a serious expression as he he were truly contemplating the news.
"What's wrong with you?" Herakles asked him after one such night. As his guests slept off their afterglow the Greek entered the kitchen in his birthday suit to get a drink of water. He really hadn't been expecting an answer and only half-registered what he heard.
"Nothing," Poupi said innocently. "Just that I choose to make love with those special to me."
"You're quick to accuse," Herakles chuckled. "There's a difference between sex and making love. Given the opportunity, I'd make love to my special someone everyday, but I'd be thankful if I see them even once a month."
"Then why sleep around?" asked the cat.
The Greek smiled at him. "It's a bit tricky to explain, but since you asked, I'll humor you." (At this point, Poupi surmised his owner was drunk). "I have a lot of urges inside of me. It’s the kind of being I am," Herakles continued seriously. "If I don't expel them, I will shatter into a number of distinct pieces that will not function on their own."
"I get the feeling," Poupi said, returning to his newspaper. "But perhaps I am fortunate that my kind take it upon themselves to address their own needs. That way, I can be concerned with greater things."
Herakles patted his head. "You aren't cute when you're cocky. I'll introduce you to a few kitty friends overseas. You'll find their company fascinating."
Poupi rumbled appreciatively and Herakles returned to his bedroom. And some time between their first conversation and several others they were to exchange, he realize what exactly Poupi was.
After all, he couldn't seem to communicate with the other cats in a similar manner.
- - - -
Tama was the epitome of a typical Japanese cat. He valued eating good meals four to five times a day (because there were days he had to go hungry), and the occasional warm bowl of milk with catnip. He was practical and diligent with business affairs, organized community meetings and discussed the health benefits of eating canned food versus table food. In private, he enjoyed quick romps with the lady cats in the back streets of Shinjuku and caterwauling at the moon during summer festivals.
Tama was a cat of the hour. He treated his past like an old friend and the future like a tantalizing prospect but he lived his minutes as if they were his last. With balance, of course. It was not kitty tact to be impulsive, unless your prey was unbelievably stupid and did not sense danger. Tama believed in fate, a purpose in everything and a certain responsibility in everyone. Thus, in the guise of prudence, he was quite honest, confident and carefree.
Tama came to Kiku's yard simply because that air was sweeter compared to that of the city and never had he seen more elegantly blooming chrysanthemums. A doggy smell clung to the corners of the dojo but it was more doggy powder than dog and it didn't faze Tama. Beyond the powder was a cleaner fragrance, like rice before it's washed and cooked. It was fleeting and elusive, like a woman who dabbed perfume solely on her wrists and the juncture between her neck and her shoulder.
It did not cross Tama's mind that the house he trespassed belonged to the personification of Japan until after Kiku emerged to hang up his laundry and spotted him in midstep on the Bermuda grass. Their meeting was hardly remarkable. Tama simply decided that he wanted to stay with this man who smelled of polished rice. What pleasantly surprised him was the nature of Pochi, who at that moment had bounded past Kiku's legs to excitedly sniff him all over, very unlike the normal dynamics between dogs and cats. He shared the same time as Tama-almost infinite.
"He's special! Can we keep him?" Pochi barked. Taaa knew Kiku only understood the wagging of his tail but nodded all the same.
Something warmed in Tama's chest and Kiku picked him up with sure yet gentle hands and he purred thankfully.
- - - -
Kiku thought Tama ate too much. He slept too much, had sex too much, rolled over and warmed himself in the sun too much and shook his furry bum too much whenever he poised to pounce on a butterfly.
Where Kiku's frustration with Tama was coming from, he did not know. Kiku knew very well that Tama was a cat and cats had needs and cats had instincts. He felt though, that Tama was a little too spoiled or that they were too similar. They fought over grilled blue marlin, salted salmon, bluefin tuna and various other foods Kiku enjoyed relishing for himself. Pochi often stood by the shoji eating kibble and watching them chase after fish fillets with paws and claws and chopsticks.
Kiku probably saw himself in Tama ('probably' because Tama was a cat and he didn't really want to see himself in a cat) and he was irrationally annoyed at how clearly, like a mirror, did Tama reflect himself even ten times worse.
"Jealous?" Tama had asked one poignant afternoon, as Pochi carried him to Kiku who was de-veining string beans on the porch.
"You should conduct yourself reasonably," Kiku replied, not looking up from his work.
"I have no obligation to do so when I do not see the need," Tama said, pawing the plate of finished beans with mild interest. "There is a time for everything-time to act like a prude and time to act-"
"Like a princess," Kiku finished, throwing a rueful glance at his cat just in time to see him fluff up a portion of a dozing Pochi's fur and lie down on it.
"With due allocation," the cat said. "You are not honest with yourself." And Tama fixed Kiku with an amber stare. "You wish you were as free as I am."
"I do," Kiku admitted calmly, though his ire squiked as he said it. "Don't exploit it. Often I feel you rub these facts in my face."
Tama purred mischievously. "It's fun to do so. Besides, you love me too much to throw me out."
Kiku sighed and watched him as he shifted into a more comfortable position to nap, which was on his back with paws in the air. Indeed, whatever Tama was to him-his opposite, his companion, his complement, a mirror, an extension or the spill-over of his subconscious desires-Kiku had a damnable weakness for cute things and would never in centuries consider throwing him out.
…but he came very close to it.
"Ki-chan, you don't have sex," Tama remarked while Kiku was preparing dinner one cool April night. The cat was perched beside his collection of old ceramic teapots next to the tea cupboard just above the stove. It was a good thing too, because if Tama were on the counter, Kiku would have hit him with a soup-drenched ladle.
He couldn't fool his own cat. "I would like to think sex is not all you concern yourself with. But if you must know, I have not found anyone whom I am comfortable enough to share intimacy in such a manner…yet," Kiku stole a glance at Tama as he added more ingredients to his pot. "And before you ask, yes, not on single person in three thousand years."
Tama hummed and rolled over carefully. "That's not what Pochi says."
So Kiku didn't understand the language of immortal dogs. "Speaking of Pochi, what is he? I've always thought he represented Mount Fuji-"
"Of course not. Mount Fuji is your pr-"
"Ahem."
"-and anyway, Pochi says you have you sights set on a certain Mediterranean republic."
Kiku laughed uneasily. His pets talked about those things? "You haven't narrowed down the choices much. The nations along the Mediterranean are my friends and I find them all attractive…"
But by then, Tama had already fallen asleep and Kiku found he was reasoning with no one but himself.
- - - -
Poupi first met Tama in the eight tatami floor of Kiku's living room. Herakles had arranged a playdate, something both cat owners had planned several decades earlier but where too busy to find a stress-free, comfortable weekend.
It was summer and the air was hot. Kiku brought out three electric fans and lay fanning himself on a futon in his thinnest shirt while Tama amused himself with pawing at his regular arm movements.
Herakles arrived with several packs of cold pudding from the nearby convenience store, ingredients for his most cooling salads and Ouzo, which he stowed in the fridge for later consumption. Poupi followed airily behind him, freshly brushed with a ribbon tied on his head to keep the fur off his face. The way he simply strode in somebody else's house like it was nobody's business made Tama's fur rise in the annoyance of his privacy invaded.
"Oyah," Kiku said, sitting up and taking the cup of blueberry pudding Herakles had pressed against his cheek to rouse him. "There's a bit of tension between them…"
Herakels looked at the two cats sizing each other up wit their backs arched and their tails held high in exclamation. "That is expected," he said calmly. "Your cat's territory was invaded by another he's not familiar with. In a few minutes, though, they'll be good friends I'm sure."
Kiku still looked doubtful, but nevertheless the pair went into the kitchen and began preparing food to cool off with in the sweltering heat.
"Name?" Tama demanded.
Poupi stood his ground. "Poupi. Yours?"
"Tama," the cat replied evenly. "Age?"
"I…I've lost count. Most likely older than you, so don't take that tone with me," Poupi said bitterly.
If Tama had eyebrows, he would have raised one. "Can you boast a thousand? Not many cats, or anything else, can live such long existences. Maybe your 'long' isn't long at all," and he humphed.
It was then Poupi realized Tama was the same as he was-a cat that wasn't exactly a cat but a metaphor made solid by whatever sheer will or unity beyond their control. As loved as he felt being with Herakles, it was different meeting another cat who shared his fate. The elation he was expecting was stunted by the fact that Tama was such a snob.
Deflating slightly, Poupi lay belly-down on the tatami and folded his paws under his tummy. "What use is that when you learn and teaching nothing of the wisdom of your experience?"
Tama considered him for a long moment before sitting down beside him and delicately licking off the fibers of yarn stuck to his paw. "Wisely put."
And when Herakles and Kiku returned from the kitchen exchanging various ways and uses of dried vegetables, they found a pair of cats sleeping one of top of the other.
- - - -
Tama wasn't a very affectionate cat. He enjoyed napping on Kiku's lap and rubbing against his leg to be scratched behind the ears but did not do more than that. Pochi was the one who often licked him, not because the dog wanted a favor done but because that was his way of expressing his fondness for Tama. Of course, Tama didn't mind and chose to reciprocate by keeping Pochi company. Kiku's case was similiar, and Poupi was a good friend.
Herakles however, was something else entirely.
Regardless of whatever gossip Pochi had about the Greek and their owner, Tama gravitated toward him, as all the other normal cats did. Herakles exuded a particular cat-brand of comfort, warmth and delicious non-action, like a sleepy lover waking up in bed at dawn then deciding noon would be better since his beloved was still asleep. So languid and flowing Herakles' aura was that it made one meow for belly rubs and kitty food and cooed philosophies.
And while Tama so indulged with being a cat whenever the four of them got together, he did not notice Poupi's sniffs of disapproval and the constant redness just below Kiku's ears (especially when Tama draped himself on various parts of Herakles, not just purring but vibrating).
Well, the last bit he did. From wherever he was, Tama watched with vindictive pleasure as the embarrassed flush rose from the base of Kiku's neck to his cheeks. Embarrassed to the untrained eye but to Tama, the color had a generous dash of annoyance, inner turmoil and jealousy.
But then again, Tama wasn't trying to rouse such feelings. Herakles was simply a man who made cats want to return to their quantum state, kittens coddled by their mothers.
- - - -
It was often said that Poupi acted more human than cat. In all honesty, he was a romantic cat and only wanted a committed partner he would choose to make love to.
When he was younger, he thought the ultimate proof of love was copulation. Being a cat, he had no faculties for understanding the various states and manners of 'love' in Greek. For many years, he searched for a companion, befriending any and all cats until he realized he didn't quite age the same as they did and distanced himself. Poupi's perception of sex therefore changed into something of that which was done if only absolutely necessary and useless if there was no companionship and love. This was why he had no qualms about openly admitting to Tama that he desired Kiku as a partner.
The first thing Tama did was gawk at him and say, "But you're a cat. And unless master harbors bizarre kinks I never knew about then you absolutely cannot have him as a partner!" (Tama was itching to say his boy was reserved for Herakles but decided to let the conversation take its natural course.)
Poupi looked nonplussed. "What's wrong with being a cat? I can love your master as much as I do mine."
"This and that love are different though," Tama said in a matter-of-factly tone. "What you're asking is Ki-chan as a lover."
"And Hera is the very same," Poupi replied without a hitch. "I don't see what the difference is."
Tama looked as if he had just been doused with a bucket of cold water. "You have sex with He-chan?!"
"Of course not! What do you think having a lover is?"
"I should be asking you that!"
And it was in that conversation, almost five years into their friendship, did they get their facts straight about what they each thought about love and sex.
"Let me summarize," Tama said, sitting up from their relaxed position on he carpet. "You've never had sex, you feel deep affection for He-chan and now the same for Ki-chan."
"Yes," Poupi answered. "You have affection for my master too, am I right?"
"I suppose…"
The pair fell silent in mutual understanding. But something didn't feel right. Now that they've labeled their feelings as those of affection, Poupi still wanted someone to love. The puzzled look on Tama's face conveyed that he too was struggling with the fact that what they had been feeling so strongly for was nothing more than a phase of fondness.
"What are they talking about?" Kiku asked, not taking his eyes off the TV screen, fingers flying over the controls of his gaming console.
"Sex," Herakles answered. "Those two want to get laid, and unless the both of us are into beastiality, they're not going to be very happy…"
The other man frowned. Half his mind was on their good ol' fashioned, two-player racing game while the other was on their conversation. "Tama always has sex. So much so I can't stand it. Don't encourage him."
"I suppose I shouldn't…" Herakles thought for a moment as his car somersaulted on a colorful curb. "But I have to talk to them."
Moody and depressed, Poupi had his first kitty sex with a loose lady cat around the neighborhood.
- - - -
Herakles saw Poupi as a low maintenance kind of son. He was a capable cat and performed best when left to his own devices. And while, Herakles knew that it wasn't the most fatherly way of thinking, there still were days when Poupi's welfare was a cause for concern.
"You aren't eating," Herakles said somewhat mournfully, as his beloved furry cat rolled away as his food dish was placed before him.
"Not hungry."
"Tell Hera what's wrong."
"…you won't like it."
Herakles scratched his head and sat down beside his cat. "I already don't like it when you've assumed I won't like it even when I don’t know it yet," he said quietly and Poupi turned to look at him with wide eyes.
The cat sat up, deciding he'd rather not push his luck when his master was being unusually stern. "I like Kiku, but Tama said it wasn't in the way I thought it was." He didn't continue, but in the way he deflated, Herakles could deduce.
He stroked his cat in the most loving way he could. "What he said was true-" Poupi looked horrified. "-because Kiku isn't the one you're looking for." He gave a wink.
They were an enigmatic pair, Herakles and Poupi. They needn’t exchange a lot of words to get each other's ideas. After all, they were one and the same country.
- - - -
"Ki-chan, I'm going out!" Tama said one night after dinner and Kiku simply nodded disconcertedly, as his cat had never asked permission before.
Returning to finish the steamed milkfish on the serving plate, he thought of Tama's odd behavior as of late and realized indeed something was off but what it was, he wasn't sure.
Over the past playdates, he and Herakles noticed how morose Poupi was and how increasingly edgy Tama became over the smallest of things, like a fold in the rug that caused him to trip. And it was funny because neither of them were particularly interacting to bring about these sorts of knee-jerks.
Interwoven in their talks of politics, culture and a long list of randoms was Herakles' suspicion that Tama telling Poupi off about who he should and shouldn't love so confused and saddened him. Tama on the other hand, simply seemed frustrated with himself.
"Shouldn't they like each other instead?" was Kiku's rhetorical remark that may or may not have been overhead by Pochi and relayed in some manner.
It wasn't a problem of the two cats reflecting the hidden wants and desires of their masters, or being their exact opposites, or having to feel the pressure of emulating that of their human counterparts with due consequences to the cat unity they personified. It was the straightforward tangle of 'like' and 'like like' and shyness, stubbornness and obscene denial.
- - - -
"I think I like Tama more than Kiku now," Poupi had mentioned once, quietly and humbly as if he had been proven so horribly wrong by his own foolishness and arrogance.
Herakles didn't want to ask nor mind if he were indeed influenced by what their masters were doing (or so the Greek would like to think, he had yet to share a kiss with Kiku that wasn't stolen in his sleep or behind their bedrooms under lock and key).
"Trust your instincts. Above all, you are a cat," Herakles said. He learned this fact the hard way, and often abused this manner of thinking to avoid conflicts between his human side and his nation side. The cats needn't know.
"I already told Tama I don't like him having sex with other cats," Poupi reasoned like a kid.
"Well then tell him why."
- - - -
"Do you like him?" Kiku asked Tama. His cat sat a meter away from him, nursing a wound Poupi gave him earlier that morning as he was coming home after a refreshing round of slightly empty sex.
"You're smug Ki-chan. You have no right to be smug. You and He-chan have the same problems as we do."
Kiku's eyebrows reached his fringe. "You really think so?" he asked with a smile in his tone. "It is true that Herakles-san breaches my zone of comfort more than once but that doesn’t mean we're as giddy as grade schoolers with their first loves," They've known each other for a hundred years and it was only a matter of time that somewhere along the way, friendship would morph into a deeper something, more intimate than what humans could ever hope to reach within their lifespans.
"But you are a Japanese cat. I admit your unease is amusing as it is expected," Kiku said.
Tama pouted and turned away. Kiku looked up at the sound of footsteps on his yard. "Herakles-san has come back with Poupi. I expect he's told him to apologize for hitting you. Now I want you two to talk."
- - - -
Unlike humans and nations, cats preferred less words. They conveyed their true feelings through their actions.
"Do you like me?" Tama demanded.
"I do," Poupi said and the other bristled with how direct the answer was.
"Are you sure?"
"No." And when Tama visibility defalted, Poupi smiled and said. "But we've got a lot of time to see if that will change."
Thankfully, the problem of having sex together was the least of their worries. Finally comforted, they squished beside each other and rumbled like an old car engine.
- - - -
Tama was truly small, Poupi surmised, that anyone bigger than him indded had the urge to treat him like a princess. His tail was a most insterseting specimen. It bobbed up and down like a balloon tied to a chair. He loved pawing at it and watching Tama chase butterflies.
Poupi, Tama thought, looked absolutely hilarious whenever he was being dried with a hair dryer, or when it rained because his fur curled. He and Herakles were an adorable pair, one hiding under a pillow and the other behind the curtains (it didn't matter who did what, really) because of sheer embarrassment. Tama couldn't figure out, for the life of him, what the difference was, aside from a more neat look whenever Poupi had a ribbon on.
In recent days, they would sit outside the bedroom or hang around the kitchen doorway, listening to their owners have sex as the old inhibitions fell away, like turning the pages of a book, following a natural order of things.
Poupi and Tama didn't need to physically express themselves to each other yet, and they were happy at least to know that all the right bits have been balances out. From there, they'd meet whatever their long lives had in store together.
END
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters/Pairings: Japan, Greece, their cats
Genre/Rating/Warnings: friendship, romance/PG/none
Summary/Excerpt: It is often said that the relationships of the nations' cats are not far off from those their masters. For Greece's and Japan's, that's not quite the case, but they get there eventually.
A/N: This is supposed to be progression in several episodes, but it just looks bad and disorganized...with a lazy ending. ^^; I'm sorry! dfgjdhfkgjhdf o 3o Watch out for typos ; A; I has cold *sniff*
The Bi-Cateral Relations
Poupi was a very important cat personage. He was well loved and respected by all the neighborhood cats and kitty mayors. Even the Prime Minister's cat often came to him to ask for advice. They said he was a philosopher's cat, or the cat that personified the will of all the cats in Greece. They called him wise and offered him fish on early Sunday mornings when they would catch him wandering the docks, watching fishermen haul in their wares from the sea.
Poupi himself, the center of it all, did not mind much the titles heaped upon him. He had lived long, so long he couldn't even remember his own birthday nor his mother's face. He knew very well he wasn't a normal cat and amiably entertained various kitty worship but there were days he felt bouts of loneliness. The cats and people he had come to love eventually died and the places he deemed sacred, destroyed. Little by little, he felt a longing for a being who shared his fate.
Unable to take it one cold morning of the third of February on some such year, Poupi went from house to house like a female in heat, caterwauling loud enough to rouse the entirety of Athens. His kitty sense told him 'At last! There is someone like me who understood my sorrow, my joy and the length of my time!' All he needed was to find a bright blue door.
…but there was a ridiculous number of whitewashed homes with bright blue doors, especially in the suburbia. There were houses that threw slippers at him, houses that gave him food, houses that gave him a pat on the head and houses that shut their blue doors in his face.
Exhausted and dejected, Poupi came to a quaint home, removed from the main streets by a set of uneven, twisted steps. White shirts and work pants hung from a washing line fastened to the kitchen window and the neighbor's telephone pole. A marble statue of Athena was stashed out on the veranda, next to an old moutain bike. The house emanated age, warmth and butter cinnamon rolls. Poupi was inexplicably drawn to the house, where nine cats were draped on various perches. He pawed on its blue door.
- - - -
Herakles' first impression of Poupi was that he was a sickeningly pampered cat. The incredibly fluffy thing appeared on his doorstep on his birthday many years ago screaming 'OWN ME' with the way he sat and looked at him with large green eyes. The face Herakles made was a strange mix of disgust, pity, surprise, surrender, d'aww and mild interest. He took the cat in, not because he was unable to resist the temptation of anything cute but because he thought Poupi was a house cat that had gotten lost (Little did Herakles know, it was a child who tied the ribbon atop Poupi's head to keep the fur away from his face).
Only after several months of no one coming to claim the furry cat did Herakles decide to care for it whole-heartedly. Truth be told, none of the cats that constantly milled about his home were really his. They were strays who became comfortable with the warm concrete, constant food supply and the occasional belly rubs. The thought that always lingered at the back of Herakles' mind was that these cat would eventually leave him. They had lives of their own and valued that independence, so much so that the only times they'd probably show affection was when they were asking for some or toward their own kind.
Of course, he'd love to disagree with himself. In the first few weeks, Herakles tried to treat Poupi as he did his other cats. From their wary stares, he knew they felt inferior to Poupi for reasons he had yet to find out. The problem was, Poupi was a high maintenance cat. Hours of brushing the kinks out of Poupi's fur after his bath while the other cats were left to simply licked themselves was inevitable. It made Herakles slightly uneasy whenever the cats crowded around them, expecting brawls to break out, but when they often sat down, snuggled and slept, he realized that they had been looking at Poupi with respect.
There were many days Herakles got the feeling Poupi wasn't a normal cat. It was as curious as the heart shaped mark on his bum, the way he seemed to rise about his natural instincts, especially with sex. Whereas Herakles brought women home every some such weeks and enjoyed many rounds of guilt free sex, Poupi sat on the dining table, resting on the day's newspaper with a serious expression as he he were truly contemplating the news.
"What's wrong with you?" Herakles asked him after one such night. As his guests slept off their afterglow the Greek entered the kitchen in his birthday suit to get a drink of water. He really hadn't been expecting an answer and only half-registered what he heard.
"Nothing," Poupi said innocently. "Just that I choose to make love with those special to me."
"You're quick to accuse," Herakles chuckled. "There's a difference between sex and making love. Given the opportunity, I'd make love to my special someone everyday, but I'd be thankful if I see them even once a month."
"Then why sleep around?" asked the cat.
The Greek smiled at him. "It's a bit tricky to explain, but since you asked, I'll humor you." (At this point, Poupi surmised his owner was drunk). "I have a lot of urges inside of me. It’s the kind of being I am," Herakles continued seriously. "If I don't expel them, I will shatter into a number of distinct pieces that will not function on their own."
"I get the feeling," Poupi said, returning to his newspaper. "But perhaps I am fortunate that my kind take it upon themselves to address their own needs. That way, I can be concerned with greater things."
Herakles patted his head. "You aren't cute when you're cocky. I'll introduce you to a few kitty friends overseas. You'll find their company fascinating."
Poupi rumbled appreciatively and Herakles returned to his bedroom. And some time between their first conversation and several others they were to exchange, he realize what exactly Poupi was.
After all, he couldn't seem to communicate with the other cats in a similar manner.
- - - -
Tama was the epitome of a typical Japanese cat. He valued eating good meals four to five times a day (because there were days he had to go hungry), and the occasional warm bowl of milk with catnip. He was practical and diligent with business affairs, organized community meetings and discussed the health benefits of eating canned food versus table food. In private, he enjoyed quick romps with the lady cats in the back streets of Shinjuku and caterwauling at the moon during summer festivals.
Tama was a cat of the hour. He treated his past like an old friend and the future like a tantalizing prospect but he lived his minutes as if they were his last. With balance, of course. It was not kitty tact to be impulsive, unless your prey was unbelievably stupid and did not sense danger. Tama believed in fate, a purpose in everything and a certain responsibility in everyone. Thus, in the guise of prudence, he was quite honest, confident and carefree.
Tama came to Kiku's yard simply because that air was sweeter compared to that of the city and never had he seen more elegantly blooming chrysanthemums. A doggy smell clung to the corners of the dojo but it was more doggy powder than dog and it didn't faze Tama. Beyond the powder was a cleaner fragrance, like rice before it's washed and cooked. It was fleeting and elusive, like a woman who dabbed perfume solely on her wrists and the juncture between her neck and her shoulder.
It did not cross Tama's mind that the house he trespassed belonged to the personification of Japan until after Kiku emerged to hang up his laundry and spotted him in midstep on the Bermuda grass. Their meeting was hardly remarkable. Tama simply decided that he wanted to stay with this man who smelled of polished rice. What pleasantly surprised him was the nature of Pochi, who at that moment had bounded past Kiku's legs to excitedly sniff him all over, very unlike the normal dynamics between dogs and cats. He shared the same time as Tama-almost infinite.
"He's special! Can we keep him?" Pochi barked. Taaa knew Kiku only understood the wagging of his tail but nodded all the same.
Something warmed in Tama's chest and Kiku picked him up with sure yet gentle hands and he purred thankfully.
- - - -
Kiku thought Tama ate too much. He slept too much, had sex too much, rolled over and warmed himself in the sun too much and shook his furry bum too much whenever he poised to pounce on a butterfly.
Where Kiku's frustration with Tama was coming from, he did not know. Kiku knew very well that Tama was a cat and cats had needs and cats had instincts. He felt though, that Tama was a little too spoiled or that they were too similar. They fought over grilled blue marlin, salted salmon, bluefin tuna and various other foods Kiku enjoyed relishing for himself. Pochi often stood by the shoji eating kibble and watching them chase after fish fillets with paws and claws and chopsticks.
Kiku probably saw himself in Tama ('probably' because Tama was a cat and he didn't really want to see himself in a cat) and he was irrationally annoyed at how clearly, like a mirror, did Tama reflect himself even ten times worse.
"Jealous?" Tama had asked one poignant afternoon, as Pochi carried him to Kiku who was de-veining string beans on the porch.
"You should conduct yourself reasonably," Kiku replied, not looking up from his work.
"I have no obligation to do so when I do not see the need," Tama said, pawing the plate of finished beans with mild interest. "There is a time for everything-time to act like a prude and time to act-"
"Like a princess," Kiku finished, throwing a rueful glance at his cat just in time to see him fluff up a portion of a dozing Pochi's fur and lie down on it.
"With due allocation," the cat said. "You are not honest with yourself." And Tama fixed Kiku with an amber stare. "You wish you were as free as I am."
"I do," Kiku admitted calmly, though his ire squiked as he said it. "Don't exploit it. Often I feel you rub these facts in my face."
Tama purred mischievously. "It's fun to do so. Besides, you love me too much to throw me out."
Kiku sighed and watched him as he shifted into a more comfortable position to nap, which was on his back with paws in the air. Indeed, whatever Tama was to him-his opposite, his companion, his complement, a mirror, an extension or the spill-over of his subconscious desires-Kiku had a damnable weakness for cute things and would never in centuries consider throwing him out.
…but he came very close to it.
"Ki-chan, you don't have sex," Tama remarked while Kiku was preparing dinner one cool April night. The cat was perched beside his collection of old ceramic teapots next to the tea cupboard just above the stove. It was a good thing too, because if Tama were on the counter, Kiku would have hit him with a soup-drenched ladle.
He couldn't fool his own cat. "I would like to think sex is not all you concern yourself with. But if you must know, I have not found anyone whom I am comfortable enough to share intimacy in such a manner…yet," Kiku stole a glance at Tama as he added more ingredients to his pot. "And before you ask, yes, not on single person in three thousand years."
Tama hummed and rolled over carefully. "That's not what Pochi says."
So Kiku didn't understand the language of immortal dogs. "Speaking of Pochi, what is he? I've always thought he represented Mount Fuji-"
"Of course not. Mount Fuji is your pr-"
"Ahem."
"-and anyway, Pochi says you have you sights set on a certain Mediterranean republic."
Kiku laughed uneasily. His pets talked about those things? "You haven't narrowed down the choices much. The nations along the Mediterranean are my friends and I find them all attractive…"
But by then, Tama had already fallen asleep and Kiku found he was reasoning with no one but himself.
- - - -
Poupi first met Tama in the eight tatami floor of Kiku's living room. Herakles had arranged a playdate, something both cat owners had planned several decades earlier but where too busy to find a stress-free, comfortable weekend.
It was summer and the air was hot. Kiku brought out three electric fans and lay fanning himself on a futon in his thinnest shirt while Tama amused himself with pawing at his regular arm movements.
Herakles arrived with several packs of cold pudding from the nearby convenience store, ingredients for his most cooling salads and Ouzo, which he stowed in the fridge for later consumption. Poupi followed airily behind him, freshly brushed with a ribbon tied on his head to keep the fur off his face. The way he simply strode in somebody else's house like it was nobody's business made Tama's fur rise in the annoyance of his privacy invaded.
"Oyah," Kiku said, sitting up and taking the cup of blueberry pudding Herakles had pressed against his cheek to rouse him. "There's a bit of tension between them…"
Herakels looked at the two cats sizing each other up wit their backs arched and their tails held high in exclamation. "That is expected," he said calmly. "Your cat's territory was invaded by another he's not familiar with. In a few minutes, though, they'll be good friends I'm sure."
Kiku still looked doubtful, but nevertheless the pair went into the kitchen and began preparing food to cool off with in the sweltering heat.
"Name?" Tama demanded.
Poupi stood his ground. "Poupi. Yours?"
"Tama," the cat replied evenly. "Age?"
"I…I've lost count. Most likely older than you, so don't take that tone with me," Poupi said bitterly.
If Tama had eyebrows, he would have raised one. "Can you boast a thousand? Not many cats, or anything else, can live such long existences. Maybe your 'long' isn't long at all," and he humphed.
It was then Poupi realized Tama was the same as he was-a cat that wasn't exactly a cat but a metaphor made solid by whatever sheer will or unity beyond their control. As loved as he felt being with Herakles, it was different meeting another cat who shared his fate. The elation he was expecting was stunted by the fact that Tama was such a snob.
Deflating slightly, Poupi lay belly-down on the tatami and folded his paws under his tummy. "What use is that when you learn and teaching nothing of the wisdom of your experience?"
Tama considered him for a long moment before sitting down beside him and delicately licking off the fibers of yarn stuck to his paw. "Wisely put."
And when Herakles and Kiku returned from the kitchen exchanging various ways and uses of dried vegetables, they found a pair of cats sleeping one of top of the other.
- - - -
Tama wasn't a very affectionate cat. He enjoyed napping on Kiku's lap and rubbing against his leg to be scratched behind the ears but did not do more than that. Pochi was the one who often licked him, not because the dog wanted a favor done but because that was his way of expressing his fondness for Tama. Of course, Tama didn't mind and chose to reciprocate by keeping Pochi company. Kiku's case was similiar, and Poupi was a good friend.
Herakles however, was something else entirely.
Regardless of whatever gossip Pochi had about the Greek and their owner, Tama gravitated toward him, as all the other normal cats did. Herakles exuded a particular cat-brand of comfort, warmth and delicious non-action, like a sleepy lover waking up in bed at dawn then deciding noon would be better since his beloved was still asleep. So languid and flowing Herakles' aura was that it made one meow for belly rubs and kitty food and cooed philosophies.
And while Tama so indulged with being a cat whenever the four of them got together, he did not notice Poupi's sniffs of disapproval and the constant redness just below Kiku's ears (especially when Tama draped himself on various parts of Herakles, not just purring but vibrating).
Well, the last bit he did. From wherever he was, Tama watched with vindictive pleasure as the embarrassed flush rose from the base of Kiku's neck to his cheeks. Embarrassed to the untrained eye but to Tama, the color had a generous dash of annoyance, inner turmoil and jealousy.
But then again, Tama wasn't trying to rouse such feelings. Herakles was simply a man who made cats want to return to their quantum state, kittens coddled by their mothers.
- - - -
It was often said that Poupi acted more human than cat. In all honesty, he was a romantic cat and only wanted a committed partner he would choose to make love to.
When he was younger, he thought the ultimate proof of love was copulation. Being a cat, he had no faculties for understanding the various states and manners of 'love' in Greek. For many years, he searched for a companion, befriending any and all cats until he realized he didn't quite age the same as they did and distanced himself. Poupi's perception of sex therefore changed into something of that which was done if only absolutely necessary and useless if there was no companionship and love. This was why he had no qualms about openly admitting to Tama that he desired Kiku as a partner.
The first thing Tama did was gawk at him and say, "But you're a cat. And unless master harbors bizarre kinks I never knew about then you absolutely cannot have him as a partner!" (Tama was itching to say his boy was reserved for Herakles but decided to let the conversation take its natural course.)
Poupi looked nonplussed. "What's wrong with being a cat? I can love your master as much as I do mine."
"This and that love are different though," Tama said in a matter-of-factly tone. "What you're asking is Ki-chan as a lover."
"And Hera is the very same," Poupi replied without a hitch. "I don't see what the difference is."
Tama looked as if he had just been doused with a bucket of cold water. "You have sex with He-chan?!"
"Of course not! What do you think having a lover is?"
"I should be asking you that!"
And it was in that conversation, almost five years into their friendship, did they get their facts straight about what they each thought about love and sex.
"Let me summarize," Tama said, sitting up from their relaxed position on he carpet. "You've never had sex, you feel deep affection for He-chan and now the same for Ki-chan."
"Yes," Poupi answered. "You have affection for my master too, am I right?"
"I suppose…"
The pair fell silent in mutual understanding. But something didn't feel right. Now that they've labeled their feelings as those of affection, Poupi still wanted someone to love. The puzzled look on Tama's face conveyed that he too was struggling with the fact that what they had been feeling so strongly for was nothing more than a phase of fondness.
"What are they talking about?" Kiku asked, not taking his eyes off the TV screen, fingers flying over the controls of his gaming console.
"Sex," Herakles answered. "Those two want to get laid, and unless the both of us are into beastiality, they're not going to be very happy…"
The other man frowned. Half his mind was on their good ol' fashioned, two-player racing game while the other was on their conversation. "Tama always has sex. So much so I can't stand it. Don't encourage him."
"I suppose I shouldn't…" Herakles thought for a moment as his car somersaulted on a colorful curb. "But I have to talk to them."
Moody and depressed, Poupi had his first kitty sex with a loose lady cat around the neighborhood.
- - - -
Herakles saw Poupi as a low maintenance kind of son. He was a capable cat and performed best when left to his own devices. And while, Herakles knew that it wasn't the most fatherly way of thinking, there still were days when Poupi's welfare was a cause for concern.
"You aren't eating," Herakles said somewhat mournfully, as his beloved furry cat rolled away as his food dish was placed before him.
"Not hungry."
"Tell Hera what's wrong."
"…you won't like it."
Herakles scratched his head and sat down beside his cat. "I already don't like it when you've assumed I won't like it even when I don’t know it yet," he said quietly and Poupi turned to look at him with wide eyes.
The cat sat up, deciding he'd rather not push his luck when his master was being unusually stern. "I like Kiku, but Tama said it wasn't in the way I thought it was." He didn't continue, but in the way he deflated, Herakles could deduce.
He stroked his cat in the most loving way he could. "What he said was true-" Poupi looked horrified. "-because Kiku isn't the one you're looking for." He gave a wink.
They were an enigmatic pair, Herakles and Poupi. They needn’t exchange a lot of words to get each other's ideas. After all, they were one and the same country.
- - - -
"Ki-chan, I'm going out!" Tama said one night after dinner and Kiku simply nodded disconcertedly, as his cat had never asked permission before.
Returning to finish the steamed milkfish on the serving plate, he thought of Tama's odd behavior as of late and realized indeed something was off but what it was, he wasn't sure.
Over the past playdates, he and Herakles noticed how morose Poupi was and how increasingly edgy Tama became over the smallest of things, like a fold in the rug that caused him to trip. And it was funny because neither of them were particularly interacting to bring about these sorts of knee-jerks.
Interwoven in their talks of politics, culture and a long list of randoms was Herakles' suspicion that Tama telling Poupi off about who he should and shouldn't love so confused and saddened him. Tama on the other hand, simply seemed frustrated with himself.
"Shouldn't they like each other instead?" was Kiku's rhetorical remark that may or may not have been overhead by Pochi and relayed in some manner.
It wasn't a problem of the two cats reflecting the hidden wants and desires of their masters, or being their exact opposites, or having to feel the pressure of emulating that of their human counterparts with due consequences to the cat unity they personified. It was the straightforward tangle of 'like' and 'like like' and shyness, stubbornness and obscene denial.
- - - -
"I think I like Tama more than Kiku now," Poupi had mentioned once, quietly and humbly as if he had been proven so horribly wrong by his own foolishness and arrogance.
Herakles didn't want to ask nor mind if he were indeed influenced by what their masters were doing (or so the Greek would like to think, he had yet to share a kiss with Kiku that wasn't stolen in his sleep or behind their bedrooms under lock and key).
"Trust your instincts. Above all, you are a cat," Herakles said. He learned this fact the hard way, and often abused this manner of thinking to avoid conflicts between his human side and his nation side. The cats needn't know.
"I already told Tama I don't like him having sex with other cats," Poupi reasoned like a kid.
"Well then tell him why."
- - - -
"Do you like him?" Kiku asked Tama. His cat sat a meter away from him, nursing a wound Poupi gave him earlier that morning as he was coming home after a refreshing round of slightly empty sex.
"You're smug Ki-chan. You have no right to be smug. You and He-chan have the same problems as we do."
Kiku's eyebrows reached his fringe. "You really think so?" he asked with a smile in his tone. "It is true that Herakles-san breaches my zone of comfort more than once but that doesn’t mean we're as giddy as grade schoolers with their first loves," They've known each other for a hundred years and it was only a matter of time that somewhere along the way, friendship would morph into a deeper something, more intimate than what humans could ever hope to reach within their lifespans.
"But you are a Japanese cat. I admit your unease is amusing as it is expected," Kiku said.
Tama pouted and turned away. Kiku looked up at the sound of footsteps on his yard. "Herakles-san has come back with Poupi. I expect he's told him to apologize for hitting you. Now I want you two to talk."
- - - -
Unlike humans and nations, cats preferred less words. They conveyed their true feelings through their actions.
"Do you like me?" Tama demanded.
"I do," Poupi said and the other bristled with how direct the answer was.
"Are you sure?"
"No." And when Tama visibility defalted, Poupi smiled and said. "But we've got a lot of time to see if that will change."
Thankfully, the problem of having sex together was the least of their worries. Finally comforted, they squished beside each other and rumbled like an old car engine.
- - - -
Tama was truly small, Poupi surmised, that anyone bigger than him indded had the urge to treat him like a princess. His tail was a most insterseting specimen. It bobbed up and down like a balloon tied to a chair. He loved pawing at it and watching Tama chase butterflies.
Poupi, Tama thought, looked absolutely hilarious whenever he was being dried with a hair dryer, or when it rained because his fur curled. He and Herakles were an adorable pair, one hiding under a pillow and the other behind the curtains (it didn't matter who did what, really) because of sheer embarrassment. Tama couldn't figure out, for the life of him, what the difference was, aside from a more neat look whenever Poupi had a ribbon on.
In recent days, they would sit outside the bedroom or hang around the kitchen doorway, listening to their owners have sex as the old inhibitions fell away, like turning the pages of a book, following a natural order of things.
Poupi and Tama didn't need to physically express themselves to each other yet, and they were happy at least to know that all the right bits have been balances out. From there, they'd meet whatever their long lives had in store together.
END