terrible
DSRK fan fiction. I wrote Gouto a story because if you think about it DSRK sort of is Gouto's story. Totally work safe because I am a loser. HOW DID I WRITING FIRST PERSON????? A grave transgression. Will try to do better next time sob sobsob
Mondo loves to canis_m for proofreading this masterpiece and for flipping out over the word "must" and for understanding my love for writing about doors, and metaphors involving doors.
*
First off, let me cover a thing or two about luck, as I happen to be an authority on the subject. Crossed a few paths in my time, and of late I've caught people falling all over themselves to offer up a prayer about it, or clap their hands. Discrimination, is what it is. They fail to recognize that I'm a better ill omen than most, and if I'm around then the 14th is not far off, and if I've taught him anything it's how to fix trouble when it rears. Bad news rarely announces itself with a neat little package like myself, rather it bamboozles you on idle afternoons when the sun is just right on the rooftop, and junior is off at school, and getting some shut-eye before a long night seems like an inspired idea.
Second, let's get this clear, to dispense with any confusion out of hand. Paw. Whatchamacallit. I haven't the slightest where this fuss came from. Maybe I'd seen her around the neighborhood once or twice, nosing out rats or whatever it is her kind get up to. I wouldn't know. I see something scurrying over the floorboards, I might get the occasional hankering to leap and paw at it, but I possess the grace to contain my urges. Someone around here has to.
So there I am, minding my own business, when I feel something brushing up against my side just so. Not gonna get into how long it's been since the last time that's happened. Sad story. I may be a decent specimen, but even the weakest souls have enough sense to tell what I am besides. Centuries on the job, and I let a regular alley-cat get the drop on me. Not even a calico, just some well-fed tabby, all swagger. Such a shame. In two shakes I'm up and ready to have words, so to speak, except as it turns out I don't speak cat as well as I thought, because she takes my hisses for hard-to-get talk and circles me a couple times in this big, big way. A modern move for a female, if you catch my drift, or could be she's just off her rocker.
Anyway, right around then, Narumi gets it into his fool head to come up on break between his morning and afternoon lazes. Luck, am I right? My admirer takes right off, for all the world like a human broad caught out, but I'll be twice damned if I make any gesture of the I can explain variety.
Gotta hand it to Narumi, though. He just turns right around, bites a smoke and pats his pockets. Presumably he's heading out for lunch, wearing a phony look bound to set restaurant owners thinking, My, what a gentleman, no harm in putting a smidgeon more on this monumental tab. I've been known to turn a blind eye, having a soft spot for the 14th, but stretching credit is one example I won't stand for.
For obvious reasons, neither Narumi nor I have ever been keen on jawing to one another. But the situation must be too sweet, because after a puff or two he says, companionably, "No sweat, I get it. Needs, eh?"
Swell, I think at him. Rich. As it happens, my needs also include reaching the low shelves in your wardrobe and going to town. I rock back on my paws. Who's in charge here? Ahem, who? That's right.
*
With junior, now, you don't need a second glance to tell he was raised properly. Always takes off his shoes indoors, and presses his uniform before bed, and knows how to listen. People these days might call that old-fashioned, but people these days wouldn't know which end of a pistol to hold. Which is where we come in.
Early days, I'd shadow him all the way to school and back. Not because the 13th met her end under a streetcar, thanks for asking, but on account of demons being averse to regular business hours. Uphill battle both ways, in the rain and in the frost, that's how things stood back then. It's a miracle junior managed to show up to class on time, never mind looking presentable. There's a trick to stashing steel in a locker that we worked out all on our own. But then some jumped-up grammar marm made a ruckus about her allergies, which got me found out right quick and chased about with a broom, and gave the 14th a crash course in speedy negotiation besides. Lurking in the bushes by the exercise field didn't pan out, so I stuck to long-distance communications thereafter. Means I get to keep an eye out on the home front, just in case. We get a lot of just in cases, so long as you're wondering.
Except lately that's seeming like a poor decision on my part, as my alley-cat tail's been staking me out. Gave her the cold shoulder yesterday by the steps, before a couple of schoolgirls spooked her off, and we all know who they were waiting for. No sign of either set today, as it's been raining rods all afternoon. Good riddance.
Now junior and I are enjoying some downtime, though I am not looking forward to tripping through three fingers of mud if we run into trouble later. Always suspected that's part of my lot, too. Figures. Few descendants have demonstrated manners enough to keep me off the ground, either, until I taught them what for. Don't even get me started on Raidou the 8th, that walking amendment to clan law books. Too hawky and gawky, the lot of them, though most showed up knowing how to put their muscles where their mouths were, which is why I had my initial doubts with Toots here. He's the quiet sort, and when I first clapped eyes on his right swing it left him open as a barn door. But as I said, he pays attention. Look at him hitting the books now, very Thoth-like about his assignments. Maybe too much, come to think. Our star pupil's a leisurely reader. Too bad we haven't the time to linger on neat words.
Narumi knocks and appears with coffee. His Special Blend? Spare me. Ten to one he's added sugar. Watch, he's going to lean in just a little as he sets it down. Yep, there he goes. Smooth one, chump. I've got my eye on you.
Junior sips, confirming my suspicions. He says, "Thank you, sir," all the same.
Small talk. Flap flap, take an umbrella, what've they got you learning this week, and so forth. He's used those lines before. At least junior has the sense to look annoyed when he points out the obvious all over again, which is that umbrellas are impractical. But his eyes have gone soft as a meadow, and his chin is tipping up in a way that has me wondering if the pair of them are cutting a rug for my benefit, or if they're really this stymied.
"Kant, now? Cripes, that's progressive. I'll leave you to it, then." Here comes the pause. "Unless you want some help?"
Believe me, I'd clap if I could. Even from where I'm sitting I can tell Junior shares my doubts about the help, but his mouth quirks a little. He nods.
Oh, boy.
"A gumshoe up on his ethics," I mutter, not that anyone's listening. "What next?" Except I know full well what's next, I'm just working out how handle it.
*
Gotta admit, it'd be solid to catch the 14th indulging in racier stuff than DeKanSho once in a blue moon. I get my points lined up by the time he's doing the washing-up in the kitchen. Do well to keep those pretty wrists covered, junior, if you can help it.
"Just between you and me," I tell him, "the girly apron's a waste of time."
"It's the only one there is."
Please, like I was born yesterday. I say, "We need to talk."
"We are talking." He picks the keenest times to get stubborn.
"Just wondering if you got anything to talk about in particular. Ain't nothing new under the sun, Toots."
His brow creases. All I get is, "You're acting very strange." That he forgets proper address is another sign he's tetched. And I can smell him thinking a mile a minute, so no, he's not actually this dense.
"Listen up," I say to snap him out of it. "You and I both know you're getting to an age where," I tell him. "When a young man... You see what I'm getting at here. You're gonna find yourself faced with certain choices, and I trust that in making them you will demonstrate due responsibility and... and decorum." Not typically a problem topic, but with this one it's worse than pulling up my own whiskers by the roots.
Junior's giving me a stare like I did just work out how to give myself the once-over with a set of tweezers. Which is to say, all of a sudden he's awfully sympathetic.
"I am a Kuzunoha," he says. Simple and direct, and the right answer. Any other day I'd say he passes with flying colors, and even now it's enough to make me spare us both.
"Never mind," I tell him kindly, which--well, not easy, with junior exhaling like he's dodged a bullet. "Forget I said anything. Now shake a leg and let's get going."
*
It's up to me to ask after our overtime. While the 14th might have a talent for extortion, he doesn't like to mention pay, and I am not so petty as to order him. But as I like to say, swords don't forge themselves. Unless they do, that is--but that one was a weird case any way you look at it.
Narumi gets it too, I expect, because he keeps the Underwood where I can reach it. The keys are murder on my paws, but ain't my fault if my penmanship's too refined to be deciphered by just anybody. What's worse is that on occasion the crumb leaves portions of his magnum opus in the feeder. Today, for instance, we have The city has become kin to those double-edged machines of production that fill its factories. Its daily sound is the clack of a people going in, in, in. And if you reckon that's a treat, you should see the rest. This is what he gets up to when time comes to pay the bills and junior's not around. Hypocrite.
Ever tried to release a carriage with sinews the size of twigs and zilch on the opposable thumb front? Take my word for it, not a lark. This infernal contraption. Morning workout down, I spring up on the desk in one fell swoop, bat aside Narumi's news, and spit a liberated strip of paper into his breakfast. I plant myself like I own the place. I wait.
"Fair enough," he says once he's made out my message, getting up for the ever-elusive checkbook. With junior he might stoop to whinge about the price of coffee and Egyptian cotton, but with me it's all cut and dried, which is why my system functions in the first place.
"Thanks for the hard work," says Narumi, as if he'd know hard work if it dealt in gewgaws and fancy suits. "I added a little extra for getting that flat tire of a ghost driver case out of my hair." He proffers the check, but pulls it back just as I go for it. Good odds he's still sore about those new shirts he's been keeping in the bottom drawer. Nice how opposable thumbs ain't necessary for certain of my hobbies. So there I am, mid-reach, openmouthed as a magpie. Oh, if you're trying to razz me, bub, you're a few hundred years too early and a few pretty garments too late.
"Hope you don't mind," he says to me--and you should get a look at how priceless he feels over talking jive to a cat--"I gave a saucer of cream to your lady friend this morning. Couldn't stand to see her all wet and jilted. I don't mean to pry, but you might want to tell her what for, one way or another. Don't leave the poor dame hanging." He winks, and it might even get me going if I were the get-going sort. "Just between us. I won't spill to Raidou if you don't."
We. Us. Listen to that bluster. I've got a short list of what Narumi Shohei is good for on the job, and it amounts to regaling junior with favorite headlines and filling up the ashtray. And what do you know, look at that, here's the artifact now, and nobody's bothered to dump the contents in days. Poor housekeeping, that's what it is. And here's my paw, edging a little closer, then a little closer still.
Eureka! As Victor would say. Visible proof that the lazy lout moves fast enough when he wants to. And there goes his chair, clattering back as ash covers the desktop. Me, I take my time in fixing him with an eye, as if to say, And who have you ever left hanging, hmm?
What gets me, though, is that this sets Narumi feeling rueful. I know the mess isn't enough to rile him up. Far as I'm concerned, conversation's at an end. But now he's looking right back at me and sighing, "Fair enough," all over again, except this time he says it differently, if you see what I mean. Like we understand one another.
And hey, turns out I myself am so understanding that I only flick a little ash on those pristine slacks before calling it a day. I'm not heartless, I'm just the lousy fire extinguisher set to oversee an arson.
*
Missing citizens ending in the Dark Realm is standard fare for a practiced summoner, even if it doesn't always end well. Except now it's an entire tenement that's gotten pulled across. With everyone's luck out of kilter and the light stream nearly lined up with the lunar cycle, this sort of fallout is not unexpected. Don't believe me? Go on down to Fukugawa-cho and get your fill of the local authorities staring at the ghostly outline that remains. I can only hope they've learned their lesson, and will think twice about tearing down old buildings if Raidou the 14th bids them halt. He'll get taken more seriously as he gets taller, that much I've imparted, but you'd think saving the capital once or twice would have greased the wheels already.
Narumi, now, he's very proud about having thought up investigational meetings. Makes him feel like he's breaking a sweat while junior and I are sloshing around in rain that would get a duck soggy. I can tell the latter likes them too, albeit for different reasons.
"What's the plan?" says Narumi, and you can practically see junior light up with laying it out for him. I'd contribute something on the subject, but the strategy is solid enough.
Narumi hears him out. "Sounds good. And where do you want me?"
"Watch it," I say. Not that anybody's listening.
"Please help me get past Detective Kazama and his men. Once I return." And he hatched all this without looking up from year-end exams, too. That's what I call good follow-through.
"I'll be around the corner with dinner. Least I could do. Preferences for takeout?"
"Anything is fine, sir." But even as he's saying it junior twigs that it's the wrong answer, so he amends, "Curry, maybe. No potatoes."
And at that Narumi looks even prouder. "Well then," he says. "Good luck." He pats junior's arms manfully, like he's not about to spend hours fretting over it like a seawife. I yawn.
So then junior leans down to me. It's about to be a long ride to Shinoda, nestled out of the wet. I make a show of yawning again and stretching. Hey, I'm not so eager to be going myself.
*
We leave at dusk, then the thing's over and done with by dawn. Points for efficiency to junior. He got himself a scratch or two, but I judge it wasn't on negligence. Nothing Parvati can't fix, though she titters about it like she wasn't old enough to be my grandmam. Getting better every day, Toots. Getting better every day. On the way home he and Narumi set to flap flapping about the weather again, and about the way poor Kazama gets all the dirtiest jobs, so I wriggle out of junior's coat and just leave them to it.
Two guesses about who's waiting up in her favorite spot, and the first two don't count. I knew Narumi had done me a real solid when he got her accustomed to breakfast. Calico, tabby, it doesn't matter if they set to mooching off you after getting a taste of the good life. Women never change.
"Gouto?" Junior sees me hanging back.
"Go on ahead," I tell him. "And keep the door cracked. Nature calls." I don't leave the topic open for debate.
So I circle around to the riverside, waiting for my lady friend to follow. Sure enough, there she is, throwing her weight side to side, looking to brush up against me again. Time we had ourselves a talk. Now's as good as any.
I'm not up on my cat speak, but I tell her, "You. What."
"Me. Alone," she says, far as I can figure out. Limited fluency here. "You. Alone? Make whoopee?"
"No. No make whoopee," I answer. Long time since make whoopee, gods only know.
She keeps right on watching me arch my back at her. Pretty cute, I suppose, to get confused by a turn-down. She sticks out her rump and says, "Small time no now make whoopee? Small time no now alone? Make babies?"
And here I thought I was being clear. "No," I tell her again. "No now. No small time no now. Me. Must alone. Cursed, know what that means? You. No must alone. Small other no me make babies. Make good babies. Enjoy yourself."
Her whole body tenses once I use words outside her repertoire. You can see those little wheels get rolling. She looks stricken, then she looks spooked. "Youuuu," she hisses. "Cat. No cat. Cat and no cat." Which, come to think, is just about the sum of it.
She turns right around, high-tails it up the street, and that's all she wrote. Should have tried it before, saved myself some time, but somehow I reckoned she'd make a scene about it like a human female. Cats though, they don't like to complicate matters.
It gets my own wheels rolling, just as I'm heading back. She nearly had a point. Might not have seen it had I not met her right then. Luck, see? All out of kilter, and me thinking, if it's that easy for a pair of people dying for it, why complicate matters?
You reckon that's going against the rules?
You think it's a first for me?
*
So there I am, feeling mightily magnanimous, when I get back to the two of them dozing off on the couch. Narumi's forgotten to take off his jacket and junior's practically in his lap with his muddy shoes on and up. I've seen rocks fall slower than the standards around here.
I press against the door to shut it -- not a lark, but you can get used to anything -- and hop on up myself. Paw prints ain't got nothing on blood stains, anyway, and some of us have to be fresh as daisies in a couple of hours.
Junior, now, when awake he's careful about keeping due distance, but in his sleep he gives me a little pat on the head. I'm no cat, but as you've heard I'm also cat, too, so I let out this little purr. Don't know about you, but I've always been a fan of keeping things simplified. Good kid, Toots. Yep, right there, just behind the ears. Attaboy. Look both ways before crossing the street, and watch out for streetcars. Good kid.
*
STUFFS I SCREWED UP:
- How does i timed school year? Lol, lol. Is it spring? In my head it is spring because that is when cats make babies. I only know about feral cats you see, and evidently feral cats love whoopee.
- Also in my head Gouto's girlfriend is this fat fat tabby who swaggers with her fat healthy belly all sleek-furred and buxom, with like 30 sugar daddies on the block who all feed her left overs
- saldkjsal I just noticed the type writer in the office is situated right next to N's desk, fml, but I can't be butted to change my shit around anymore. Artistic licence suckers
- Narumi is so not a marxist except when time comes to fork over money, why I did this I have no idea pfffff fff ff RETRACTION
- no one cares
- DeKanSho is an ethics curriculum in actual early-century Japan, look at that i cracked a book
- Pfffff the idea of Gouto getting chased around with a broom guys, even though it is atypical for ladies to be teaching boys school classes in 1930 and I concede that
- I like to think Narumi used to have a housekeeper who'd come around every couple of weeks to clean his gross kitchen, so the girly apron is her legacy. N likes to shop for shoes but is too much of a dude to buy manlier dishwashing attire. ALSO IF IT AIN'T BROKE WINK WINK WINK
- the end already goddddd shut up natalia
*
NEXT UP:
- Stories about doors
- Hot springs hanky pankys
- Earthquake advice
- THE HOUND OF THE YAMAMOTOS really yes
- FITZGERALD PUNS WRT NARUMI
- terrible things, terrible
- Super cliche ghost stories involving Raidou's school maybe
- The one where Raidou can't cook
Mondo loves to canis_m for proofreading this masterpiece and for flipping out over the word "must" and for understanding my love for writing about doors, and metaphors involving doors.
*
First off, let me cover a thing or two about luck, as I happen to be an authority on the subject. Crossed a few paths in my time, and of late I've caught people falling all over themselves to offer up a prayer about it, or clap their hands. Discrimination, is what it is. They fail to recognize that I'm a better ill omen than most, and if I'm around then the 14th is not far off, and if I've taught him anything it's how to fix trouble when it rears. Bad news rarely announces itself with a neat little package like myself, rather it bamboozles you on idle afternoons when the sun is just right on the rooftop, and junior is off at school, and getting some shut-eye before a long night seems like an inspired idea.
Second, let's get this clear, to dispense with any confusion out of hand. Paw. Whatchamacallit. I haven't the slightest where this fuss came from. Maybe I'd seen her around the neighborhood once or twice, nosing out rats or whatever it is her kind get up to. I wouldn't know. I see something scurrying over the floorboards, I might get the occasional hankering to leap and paw at it, but I possess the grace to contain my urges. Someone around here has to.
So there I am, minding my own business, when I feel something brushing up against my side just so. Not gonna get into how long it's been since the last time that's happened. Sad story. I may be a decent specimen, but even the weakest souls have enough sense to tell what I am besides. Centuries on the job, and I let a regular alley-cat get the drop on me. Not even a calico, just some well-fed tabby, all swagger. Such a shame. In two shakes I'm up and ready to have words, so to speak, except as it turns out I don't speak cat as well as I thought, because she takes my hisses for hard-to-get talk and circles me a couple times in this big, big way. A modern move for a female, if you catch my drift, or could be she's just off her rocker.
Anyway, right around then, Narumi gets it into his fool head to come up on break between his morning and afternoon lazes. Luck, am I right? My admirer takes right off, for all the world like a human broad caught out, but I'll be twice damned if I make any gesture of the I can explain variety.
Gotta hand it to Narumi, though. He just turns right around, bites a smoke and pats his pockets. Presumably he's heading out for lunch, wearing a phony look bound to set restaurant owners thinking, My, what a gentleman, no harm in putting a smidgeon more on this monumental tab. I've been known to turn a blind eye, having a soft spot for the 14th, but stretching credit is one example I won't stand for.
For obvious reasons, neither Narumi nor I have ever been keen on jawing to one another. But the situation must be too sweet, because after a puff or two he says, companionably, "No sweat, I get it. Needs, eh?"
Swell, I think at him. Rich. As it happens, my needs also include reaching the low shelves in your wardrobe and going to town. I rock back on my paws. Who's in charge here? Ahem, who? That's right.
*
With junior, now, you don't need a second glance to tell he was raised properly. Always takes off his shoes indoors, and presses his uniform before bed, and knows how to listen. People these days might call that old-fashioned, but people these days wouldn't know which end of a pistol to hold. Which is where we come in.
Early days, I'd shadow him all the way to school and back. Not because the 13th met her end under a streetcar, thanks for asking, but on account of demons being averse to regular business hours. Uphill battle both ways, in the rain and in the frost, that's how things stood back then. It's a miracle junior managed to show up to class on time, never mind looking presentable. There's a trick to stashing steel in a locker that we worked out all on our own. But then some jumped-up grammar marm made a ruckus about her allergies, which got me found out right quick and chased about with a broom, and gave the 14th a crash course in speedy negotiation besides. Lurking in the bushes by the exercise field didn't pan out, so I stuck to long-distance communications thereafter. Means I get to keep an eye out on the home front, just in case. We get a lot of just in cases, so long as you're wondering.
Except lately that's seeming like a poor decision on my part, as my alley-cat tail's been staking me out. Gave her the cold shoulder yesterday by the steps, before a couple of schoolgirls spooked her off, and we all know who they were waiting for. No sign of either set today, as it's been raining rods all afternoon. Good riddance.
Now junior and I are enjoying some downtime, though I am not looking forward to tripping through three fingers of mud if we run into trouble later. Always suspected that's part of my lot, too. Figures. Few descendants have demonstrated manners enough to keep me off the ground, either, until I taught them what for. Don't even get me started on Raidou the 8th, that walking amendment to clan law books. Too hawky and gawky, the lot of them, though most showed up knowing how to put their muscles where their mouths were, which is why I had my initial doubts with Toots here. He's the quiet sort, and when I first clapped eyes on his right swing it left him open as a barn door. But as I said, he pays attention. Look at him hitting the books now, very Thoth-like about his assignments. Maybe too much, come to think. Our star pupil's a leisurely reader. Too bad we haven't the time to linger on neat words.
Narumi knocks and appears with coffee. His Special Blend? Spare me. Ten to one he's added sugar. Watch, he's going to lean in just a little as he sets it down. Yep, there he goes. Smooth one, chump. I've got my eye on you.
Junior sips, confirming my suspicions. He says, "Thank you, sir," all the same.
Small talk. Flap flap, take an umbrella, what've they got you learning this week, and so forth. He's used those lines before. At least junior has the sense to look annoyed when he points out the obvious all over again, which is that umbrellas are impractical. But his eyes have gone soft as a meadow, and his chin is tipping up in a way that has me wondering if the pair of them are cutting a rug for my benefit, or if they're really this stymied.
"Kant, now? Cripes, that's progressive. I'll leave you to it, then." Here comes the pause. "Unless you want some help?"
Believe me, I'd clap if I could. Even from where I'm sitting I can tell Junior shares my doubts about the help, but his mouth quirks a little. He nods.
Oh, boy.
"A gumshoe up on his ethics," I mutter, not that anyone's listening. "What next?" Except I know full well what's next, I'm just working out how handle it.
*
Gotta admit, it'd be solid to catch the 14th indulging in racier stuff than DeKanSho once in a blue moon. I get my points lined up by the time he's doing the washing-up in the kitchen. Do well to keep those pretty wrists covered, junior, if you can help it.
"Just between you and me," I tell him, "the girly apron's a waste of time."
"It's the only one there is."
Please, like I was born yesterday. I say, "We need to talk."
"We are talking." He picks the keenest times to get stubborn.
"Just wondering if you got anything to talk about in particular. Ain't nothing new under the sun, Toots."
His brow creases. All I get is, "You're acting very strange." That he forgets proper address is another sign he's tetched. And I can smell him thinking a mile a minute, so no, he's not actually this dense.
"Listen up," I say to snap him out of it. "You and I both know you're getting to an age where," I tell him. "When a young man... You see what I'm getting at here. You're gonna find yourself faced with certain choices, and I trust that in making them you will demonstrate due responsibility and... and decorum." Not typically a problem topic, but with this one it's worse than pulling up my own whiskers by the roots.
Junior's giving me a stare like I did just work out how to give myself the once-over with a set of tweezers. Which is to say, all of a sudden he's awfully sympathetic.
"I am a Kuzunoha," he says. Simple and direct, and the right answer. Any other day I'd say he passes with flying colors, and even now it's enough to make me spare us both.
"Never mind," I tell him kindly, which--well, not easy, with junior exhaling like he's dodged a bullet. "Forget I said anything. Now shake a leg and let's get going."
*
It's up to me to ask after our overtime. While the 14th might have a talent for extortion, he doesn't like to mention pay, and I am not so petty as to order him. But as I like to say, swords don't forge themselves. Unless they do, that is--but that one was a weird case any way you look at it.
Narumi gets it too, I expect, because he keeps the Underwood where I can reach it. The keys are murder on my paws, but ain't my fault if my penmanship's too refined to be deciphered by just anybody. What's worse is that on occasion the crumb leaves portions of his magnum opus in the feeder. Today, for instance, we have The city has become kin to those double-edged machines of production that fill its factories. Its daily sound is the clack of a people going in, in, in. And if you reckon that's a treat, you should see the rest. This is what he gets up to when time comes to pay the bills and junior's not around. Hypocrite.
Ever tried to release a carriage with sinews the size of twigs and zilch on the opposable thumb front? Take my word for it, not a lark. This infernal contraption. Morning workout down, I spring up on the desk in one fell swoop, bat aside Narumi's news, and spit a liberated strip of paper into his breakfast. I plant myself like I own the place. I wait.
"Fair enough," he says once he's made out my message, getting up for the ever-elusive checkbook. With junior he might stoop to whinge about the price of coffee and Egyptian cotton, but with me it's all cut and dried, which is why my system functions in the first place.
"Thanks for the hard work," says Narumi, as if he'd know hard work if it dealt in gewgaws and fancy suits. "I added a little extra for getting that flat tire of a ghost driver case out of my hair." He proffers the check, but pulls it back just as I go for it. Good odds he's still sore about those new shirts he's been keeping in the bottom drawer. Nice how opposable thumbs ain't necessary for certain of my hobbies. So there I am, mid-reach, openmouthed as a magpie. Oh, if you're trying to razz me, bub, you're a few hundred years too early and a few pretty garments too late.
"Hope you don't mind," he says to me--and you should get a look at how priceless he feels over talking jive to a cat--"I gave a saucer of cream to your lady friend this morning. Couldn't stand to see her all wet and jilted. I don't mean to pry, but you might want to tell her what for, one way or another. Don't leave the poor dame hanging." He winks, and it might even get me going if I were the get-going sort. "Just between us. I won't spill to Raidou if you don't."
We. Us. Listen to that bluster. I've got a short list of what Narumi Shohei is good for on the job, and it amounts to regaling junior with favorite headlines and filling up the ashtray. And what do you know, look at that, here's the artifact now, and nobody's bothered to dump the contents in days. Poor housekeeping, that's what it is. And here's my paw, edging a little closer, then a little closer still.
Eureka! As Victor would say. Visible proof that the lazy lout moves fast enough when he wants to. And there goes his chair, clattering back as ash covers the desktop. Me, I take my time in fixing him with an eye, as if to say, And who have you ever left hanging, hmm?
What gets me, though, is that this sets Narumi feeling rueful. I know the mess isn't enough to rile him up. Far as I'm concerned, conversation's at an end. But now he's looking right back at me and sighing, "Fair enough," all over again, except this time he says it differently, if you see what I mean. Like we understand one another.
And hey, turns out I myself am so understanding that I only flick a little ash on those pristine slacks before calling it a day. I'm not heartless, I'm just the lousy fire extinguisher set to oversee an arson.
*
Missing citizens ending in the Dark Realm is standard fare for a practiced summoner, even if it doesn't always end well. Except now it's an entire tenement that's gotten pulled across. With everyone's luck out of kilter and the light stream nearly lined up with the lunar cycle, this sort of fallout is not unexpected. Don't believe me? Go on down to Fukugawa-cho and get your fill of the local authorities staring at the ghostly outline that remains. I can only hope they've learned their lesson, and will think twice about tearing down old buildings if Raidou the 14th bids them halt. He'll get taken more seriously as he gets taller, that much I've imparted, but you'd think saving the capital once or twice would have greased the wheels already.
Narumi, now, he's very proud about having thought up investigational meetings. Makes him feel like he's breaking a sweat while junior and I are sloshing around in rain that would get a duck soggy. I can tell the latter likes them too, albeit for different reasons.
"What's the plan?" says Narumi, and you can practically see junior light up with laying it out for him. I'd contribute something on the subject, but the strategy is solid enough.
Narumi hears him out. "Sounds good. And where do you want me?"
"Watch it," I say. Not that anybody's listening.
"Please help me get past Detective Kazama and his men. Once I return." And he hatched all this without looking up from year-end exams, too. That's what I call good follow-through.
"I'll be around the corner with dinner. Least I could do. Preferences for takeout?"
"Anything is fine, sir." But even as he's saying it junior twigs that it's the wrong answer, so he amends, "Curry, maybe. No potatoes."
And at that Narumi looks even prouder. "Well then," he says. "Good luck." He pats junior's arms manfully, like he's not about to spend hours fretting over it like a seawife. I yawn.
So then junior leans down to me. It's about to be a long ride to Shinoda, nestled out of the wet. I make a show of yawning again and stretching. Hey, I'm not so eager to be going myself.
*
We leave at dusk, then the thing's over and done with by dawn. Points for efficiency to junior. He got himself a scratch or two, but I judge it wasn't on negligence. Nothing Parvati can't fix, though she titters about it like she wasn't old enough to be my grandmam. Getting better every day, Toots. Getting better every day. On the way home he and Narumi set to flap flapping about the weather again, and about the way poor Kazama gets all the dirtiest jobs, so I wriggle out of junior's coat and just leave them to it.
Two guesses about who's waiting up in her favorite spot, and the first two don't count. I knew Narumi had done me a real solid when he got her accustomed to breakfast. Calico, tabby, it doesn't matter if they set to mooching off you after getting a taste of the good life. Women never change.
"Gouto?" Junior sees me hanging back.
"Go on ahead," I tell him. "And keep the door cracked. Nature calls." I don't leave the topic open for debate.
So I circle around to the riverside, waiting for my lady friend to follow. Sure enough, there she is, throwing her weight side to side, looking to brush up against me again. Time we had ourselves a talk. Now's as good as any.
I'm not up on my cat speak, but I tell her, "You. What."
"Me. Alone," she says, far as I can figure out. Limited fluency here. "You. Alone? Make whoopee?"
"No. No make whoopee," I answer. Long time since make whoopee, gods only know.
She keeps right on watching me arch my back at her. Pretty cute, I suppose, to get confused by a turn-down. She sticks out her rump and says, "Small time no now make whoopee? Small time no now alone? Make babies?"
And here I thought I was being clear. "No," I tell her again. "No now. No small time no now. Me. Must alone. Cursed, know what that means? You. No must alone. Small other no me make babies. Make good babies. Enjoy yourself."
Her whole body tenses once I use words outside her repertoire. You can see those little wheels get rolling. She looks stricken, then she looks spooked. "Youuuu," she hisses. "Cat. No cat. Cat and no cat." Which, come to think, is just about the sum of it.
She turns right around, high-tails it up the street, and that's all she wrote. Should have tried it before, saved myself some time, but somehow I reckoned she'd make a scene about it like a human female. Cats though, they don't like to complicate matters.
It gets my own wheels rolling, just as I'm heading back. She nearly had a point. Might not have seen it had I not met her right then. Luck, see? All out of kilter, and me thinking, if it's that easy for a pair of people dying for it, why complicate matters?
You reckon that's going against the rules?
You think it's a first for me?
*
So there I am, feeling mightily magnanimous, when I get back to the two of them dozing off on the couch. Narumi's forgotten to take off his jacket and junior's practically in his lap with his muddy shoes on and up. I've seen rocks fall slower than the standards around here.
I press against the door to shut it -- not a lark, but you can get used to anything -- and hop on up myself. Paw prints ain't got nothing on blood stains, anyway, and some of us have to be fresh as daisies in a couple of hours.
Junior, now, when awake he's careful about keeping due distance, but in his sleep he gives me a little pat on the head. I'm no cat, but as you've heard I'm also cat, too, so I let out this little purr. Don't know about you, but I've always been a fan of keeping things simplified. Good kid, Toots. Yep, right there, just behind the ears. Attaboy. Look both ways before crossing the street, and watch out for streetcars. Good kid.
*
STUFFS I SCREWED UP:
- How does i timed school year? Lol, lol. Is it spring? In my head it is spring because that is when cats make babies. I only know about feral cats you see, and evidently feral cats love whoopee.
- Also in my head Gouto's girlfriend is this fat fat tabby who swaggers with her fat healthy belly all sleek-furred and buxom, with like 30 sugar daddies on the block who all feed her left overs
- saldkjsal I just noticed the type writer in the office is situated right next to N's desk, fml, but I can't be butted to change my shit around anymore. Artistic licence suckers
- Narumi is so not a marxist except when time comes to fork over money, why I did this I have no idea pfffff fff ff RETRACTION
- no one cares
- DeKanSho is an ethics curriculum in actual early-century Japan, look at that i cracked a book
- Pfffff the idea of Gouto getting chased around with a broom guys, even though it is atypical for ladies to be teaching boys school classes in 1930 and I concede that
- I like to think Narumi used to have a housekeeper who'd come around every couple of weeks to clean his gross kitchen, so the girly apron is her legacy. N likes to shop for shoes but is too much of a dude to buy manlier dishwashing attire. ALSO IF IT AIN'T BROKE WINK WINK WINK
- the end already goddddd shut up natalia
*
NEXT UP:
- Stories about doors
- Hot springs hanky pankys
- Earthquake advice
- THE HOUND OF THE YAMAMOTOS really yes
- FITZGERALD PUNS WRT NARUMI
- terrible things, terrible
- Super cliche ghost stories involving Raidou's school maybe
- The one where Raidou can't cook