Wagahai wa neko de aru, namae wa mada nai (Part 1)

[where_wordsfail]

Title : Wagahai wa neko de aru, namae wa mada nai
Pairing : N/A (Shige-centric)
Rating : G
Summary : Everything changes on a warm summer day for nine year old Kato Shigeaki.
A/N or Warnings : This was originally going to be a short part of something larger but somehow it spiraled out of control and demanded to be the central focus. Go fig. Big thanks to my beta, who not only read through all of it with a fine toothed comb, but always plays cheerleader for me when my self-esteem started dips into the red. You know I love you and couldn't do this without you, bb. Also, there are... ghost-y things in here. Not scary, really, but if the idea turns you off, I'd reconsider reading it.

-----

"We're terribly sorry, Mrs. Kato! We feel absolutely horrible about all of this!"

Nine year old Kato Shigeaki tugged the towel tighter around his shoulders and leaned into his mother's hip. His head felt light and his nose and chest were still burning from the sensation of chlorinated water going where it generally should not be, or at least not in such quantities. He shivered, still damp from his rather eventful trip to his friend's pool, and released a raspy cough that had the adults pausing in their conversation to stare at him anxiously. When they were quite sure he was in no harm of keeling over at that very second, the conversation started up anew, his friend's parents spouting apologies while his mother held him tighter.

Shige looked over towards his friends. The boys' eyes were downcast, too ashamed to do more than shuffle their feet or pick at their swim trunks awkwardly. He didn't feel angry at them, not really. Just tired and a little dizzy. And sad, as the realization set in that he most likely was not going to be able to come over again anytime soon. No one wanted to see an encore performance of The Near Drowning of Kato Shigeaki.

He could feel his mother's fingers digging into his shoulder and winced at the sensation, looking up. Her face was stern, mouth in a thin, tight line, and she kept responding in short, snappy sentences. It was the same tone she used when he'd committed some sort of heinous, ground-able act, like tracking mud all over her nice, white carpet or playing ball in the house and scuffing the furniture in the process.

Yeah, definitely not coming over to play here for a while.

They didn't stay much longer, his parents excusing them while Shige and his friends exchanged awkward, shamefaced goodbyes. He wanted to tell them it wasn't entirely their faults that he'd almost drowned, but then his mother was pushing him out the door and all he could squeak out was a half-hearted, "See ya later."

Once in the car, his parents immediately set to arguing. His mother was sure he'd come down with pneumonia or tuberculosis or pulmonary edema (whatever that was) and would be dead within the hour if they didn't drive him to the hospital this very instant. His father, however, assured her that she was overreacting. Shige was a strong boy. It was nothing a little rest and some warm soup wouldn't fix. Mrs. Kato didn't seem entirely convinced but relented once they agreed to send Shige straight to bed, no ifs, ands, or buts.

True to their word, the Katos sent their child straight to his room upon returning home, only pausing long enough to change him into his pajamas before confining him to his bed. Shige tried to protest, whining that he was neither sick nor sleepy, but his mother would have none of it. It was "for his own good," he was assured as she tucked him in, so he should be grateful. The nine year old didn't see just what there was to be grateful about being sent to bed at five in the afternoon during his summer break, but the longer he argued, the more he could hear his mother's voice shifting into the Punishment Tone, so as irritating as it was, he resigned himself to spending the otherwise lovely day indoors.

Shige was pretty sure this was one of the worst days of his life.

That night he had strange dreams, none of which he could remember. Something told him they were important, that he should know what went on in them, and yet all he could recall was a door and the sound of bells, and a voice that was many and yet only one, calling his name over and over again.

The next day, Shige all but jumped out of bed, bustling with unspent energy and determined to show that the previous day's close call hadn't effected him in the least. Even so, it took him a good hour of constant pestering before Mrs. Kato agreed to let him out of the house, though she made him promise not to go anywhere near any large bodies of water unless there was at least one able-bodied adult at hand, preferably who has undergone CPR and/or lifeguard training. Shige wasn't exactly pleased with the agreement, but if this was the worst thing to come from his near drowning, then perhaps things weren't all that bad after all.

He started seeing them about a week later.

At first he thought it was just the heat getting to him. This summer was a little warmer than usual. Maybe the things he saw were just like those weird wavy patches of air that hung above streets on exceedingly hot days. It was a logical explanation, and it allowed him to go about business as usual for a while. But as the days passed, they started appearing with much more frequency, and at places or times when the midday heat was not at all a feasible excuse, like in the bathroom in the middle of the night or under the table during dinner.

Some were shadowy and formless, hard to catch more than a passing glimpse of, while others had definite shapes and presences, faces. Sometimes he even caught words they said, though never enough to form a full sentence, and certainly not enough for a proper conversation.

Some were funny. When they noticed him staring they'd make faces or pull little pranks on the living. Shige nearly got the grounding of a lifetime when a spirit popped up behind his mother mid-lecture and placed its hands to either side of her head, wiggling its fingers mockingly and causing the boy to bite his lip to keep from laughing in his mother's face. Others were less friendly; angry, dark spirits who looked at him with cold eyes and hissed and spat when he came near. They never hurt him, though, and if they threatened him, he never understood them enough to really feel endangered. Mostly they just seemed incredibly pitiable.

This new talent did make life harder for him. Suddenly he was seeing things that most people never could, probably never should see. People had caught him staring off into supposedly empty space on more than one occasion, or he'd point a person out only to be told that there was no one there. His mother had begun to look at him strangely, asking if he was feeling alright or drinking enough water, and several times he'd caught his parents discussing his recent behavior in hushed, hurried tones.

He thought about telling them. They were logical people, yes, and not inclined to believe in things of a supernatural persuasion, but surely they'd believe if it happened to their own son, right?

As if the universe could tell what the youngest Kato was thinking, he soon found himself flipping through the channels on the family TV and landing on a broadcast of one of those annual summer scary story specials. His eyes darted back and forth between the screen and his parents as he announced his enthusiasm for the show, gauging their reactions. Mrs. Kato frowned and told Shige to change the channel, that this sort of thing would rot his brain. His father agreed, using words like "nonsense" and "stupid," each one making Shige's heart squeeze a little tighter in his chest.

He couldn't tell his family about this. They'd never believe him.

The next logical step was to attempt to tell his friends about it, but they just looked at him like he was crazy. He might as well have told them he owned a pet unicorn named Francoise that he rode to Timbuktu on the weekends. So for the sake of not being labeled That Weird Kato Kid for the rest of his school days, he laughed it off. Called them dumb for taking him seriously and tried not to let the utter disappointment drag his mood down. (Though that goal was made a bit easier to achieve once he noticed one of the ghosts picking its nose behind his friend Kenta's head.)

Still, Shige couldn't help but feel more than a little down. There was no one he could talk to about this newly acquired skill. Well, save the ghosts, but they were the problem in the first place. Not that he could converse with them anyway. For the first time in his life, Kato Shigeaki felt truly alone.

It was that single thought that led him to the nearby shrine. He paused at the entrance, staring up at the big stone gate and feeling suddenly very small and lost. His family wasn't terribly religious, so aside from festivals and the annual New Year visit, he didn't spend much time at the shrine. It almost felt silly asking for guidance from forces he didn't entirely believe in. Then again, he hadn't believed in ghosts either until they'd started appearing before him. If spirits existed then perhaps gods did too. Bowing his head slightly, the boy passed beneath the gate and onto the grounds.

The area around the shrine was calm, the stillness of the atmosphere broken only by a few birds chirping and the occasional obnoxious drone of a lone cicada. No humans were immediately visible, and it took the boy a moment to realize that he hadn't noticed any ghosts loitering about, either. That fact alone was incredibly reassuring. Perhaps coming here had been the right choice.

Confidence boosted, Shige did his best to remember the proper way to go about visiting a shrine. He washed his hands and mouth before approaching the offertory box. Once there, he fished out a wad of paper from his pocket and unwrapped it, revealing three shiny five yen coins. He'd sat up late last night picking out the nicest of the coins he owned and set them aside for this specific purpose. Shoving the discarded paper back in his pocket, he dropped the coins into the box before grabbing the rope in front of him and giving the bell overhead a hardy shake.

He bowed. He clapped. He shut his eyes tight and...

His mind blanked.

Not a single thought came to him.

Shige could feel the panic creeping up the back of his neck like an angry spider come to catch its dinner. He'd been so preoccupied with getting the method of prayer down that he hadn't stopped to prepare his words. If there were any gods present, they were no doubt laughing at him. What was the point of all the preparations if he had nothing to ask of them?

Kato's mind raced, trying to piece together something, anything to ask of the spirits he'd come all this way to summon. In the end, all he could come up with was 'I wish there was someone who could help me' before the embarrassment grew too strong and he turned tail and fled from the shrine, not stopping until he was three blocks away. He hunched over, hands on his knees, puffing and wheezing, and stared back the way he came. No angry deities had followed him down the road shrieking of injustices, nor did he see any spirits laughing at his failed attempt. He kicked himself mentally as he caught his breath. No way around it; he'd flubbed the prayer. With any luck, the spirits would overlook his previous performance and wouldn't incur some sort of horrible curse upon him for it. He didn't think he could take any more bad luck.

His lungs finally taking in air at a normal pace, Shige stopped to look up at the sky. The sun was sinking fast, painting the sky with a warmer color palette. Dinner would be done soon, and if he didn't arrive home shortly, his mother would worry. Well, more than usual.

Shige cast one last lingering glance in the direction of the shrine before starting the short trek home. It would be nice if the forces that be--whatever they were--would take pity upon him and listened to his prayer despite the errors, but he didn't have very high hopes. He had never been that lucky.

-----

There were only three days before school went back into session, so Shige was doing his best to enjoy his last moments of freedom. Unfortunately, Shige's mother had noticed her son's seemingly bizarre change in demeanor and, in an effort to keep better watch over her son, had started to restrict the amount of time he could go out and play every day. Besides, she reminded him, she still didn't trust some of those boys. They'd almost let her baby drown, after all!

Thus, one of the few summer rituals Shige was still allowed to squeeze any enjoyment out of was sleeping in as late as he possibly could. His parents tried to wake him up early but as they were usually busy with work and errands in the morning, he could often stretch his slumber out until noon or lunchtime, whatever came first.

It was on one of these lazy mornings that Shige woke to the sensation of something heavy and warm on his chest. The weight he wasn't too surprised by; since he'd started sensing the presence of personages of a more spectral sort, he'd become used to waking to the occasional sensation of one of them sitting or laying on his chest. The ghosts seemed to get a good laugh out of it, even though it annoyed the little boy immensely. Probably because it annoyed the little boy immensely.

The heat, on the other hand, was very new. Ghosts were cold and clammy and made your skin prickle in funny ways. This thing was warm and soft and made a funny rumbling noise that vibrated against his chest. It sounded almost like... purring?

No sooner had the thought pierced his sleep addled brain than Shige's eyes flew open, only to be met by two very green, very feline eyes set in a very feline face peering back at him.

Cat.

There was a cat in his room.

There was a cat in his room and it was sitting on his chest.

As if it had sensed the boy's train of thought, the animal stood up. It yawned and stretched and, with the go-as-you-please demeanor that all cats share, jumped off Shige's chest and onto the night stand, looking at him expectantly.

Shige's brain took that moment to kick back into gear and the boy scrambled up and out of his bed, landing on the floor with thunk. He didn't know how a cat could've made its way into his room but figured that he could unravel that mystery after he got the feline off of his bedside table and out of his house. An allergic reaction was no way to start off the day.

He scuttled backwards on his hands and feet, eventually bringing himself to a standing position once he hit the opposite wall. Now that there was a sufficient amount of room between him and the animal, he started waving his hands in its direction in what he hoped was a menacing manner. "Shoo! Out!"

The cat just stared at him, tail flicking lazily at its side. The darn thing actually had the nerve to look amused.

Sensing that he was getting nowhere fast with this tactic, Shige started to search frantically for something to aid him in his cause. Careful to keep both eyes on his kitty nemesis, he crept forward just far enough to snatch his displaced pillow from the floor before scurrying back to his corner and beginning the shooing process anew. The pillow waggled limply in his hands as he shook it. "Go on! Get!"

It was then that he saw the cat's mouth open, and in a raspy voice, like rocks grinding against each other, it addressed the panicked nine year old. "Really, there's no need for all of that flailing about, don't you think? You don't even have the door open for me to leave."

Shige blinked. And then he pinched himself hard on the arm. He was dreaming; had to be, since his throat hadn't started to constrict from sharing the same air with the cat, and his eyes weren't watery in the least. It was a dream and now that he had realized it was, he was going to wake up. Yep. Any minute now.

Except nothing changed. Shige tried closing his eyes, repeating it's just a dream, it's just a dream over and over under his breath, willing himself to wake up.

The cat was still there when he opened them, staring at him and looking just as pleased as Punch with itself as it had been when he'd closed them.

There really was a cat in his room. And it had just talked. In extremely pompous, antiquated speech, no less.

Shige quickly came to the realization there there was really only one thing he could do in such a situation.

He started screaming his head off.

"MOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!"

He had just made it to the door and was in the process of wrenching it open when he heard the voice again, thick like molasses. "You'll find that your mother has gone out grocery shopping, Shigeaki, and your father left for work several hours ago. Not that either of them could see me anyway."

The nine year old turned to face his feline foe slowly, hands still clutching the door knob with a white-knuckled grip. "W-what do you want?"

The animal made a strange noise that was somewhere between a purr and a series of short mewls. It took Shige a moment to realize it was the sound of the cat laughing. "You humans, always the same. Relax. I didn't come to hurt you." The cat jumped down from the table in one fluid motion and began to pad its way over to the skittish boy.

Shige swallowed and did his best to suppress the urge to flinch away. "I'm allergic."

"Not to me, you aren't," the cat smiled. It swiftly bridged the distance between them only to rub its head on the boy's bare shin. Its fur was bristly and staticky but not unpleasantly so; it just tickled a little. The animal had already rubbed the length of its body across his leg two times and was turning for a third before Shige dared to reach his hand down. Slowly, ever so slowly, the boy placed a timid pat upon the cat's body. The cat turned and nosed his hand encouragingly.

No scratchy sensation at the back of his throat. No burning, watery reaction in his eyes. He ran his hand along the cat's back, from shoulder to tail. No allergic reaction.

Once it was obvious that Shige had calmed down and that peace had been made, the cat ceased its show of affection, looking up at the boy expectantly. "Come, let's go outside. It's far too nice of a day to be cooped up in this tiny little room, and we have much to talk about."

Shige blinked. "Like what?"

"I have a proposition for you," the cat smiled.

The talking cat was offering to... help him? "But... What can you do? You're a cat."

"And you," the feline said with an irritated flick of the tail, "are being very rude. Now come along or I'll leave you behind." Without another word, the animal approached the closed door and walked right through it, never hesitating once.

Shige gaped at the door, awestruck, then at the place the cat had been and then back to the door. He'd seen the ghosts phase through solid objects before, but they were ghosts and therefore insubstantial. He had touched the cat and it had felt warm and real. Curious fingers were pressed up to his door, hands pushing tentatively against it, but the wood was still as solid as it has always been and didn't bend in the slightest.

So, really, it wasn't entirely unreasonable that Shige shrieked when the cat's head appeared back through said solid door. "Are you coming or not?"

"How did you--? I thought you were real!"

"Of course I'm real. Do you think we would be having this conversation if I weren't?"

"But... but you just went through the door! Twice! How...?" He grasped the air frantically, as if the answers were floating around and all he had to do was catch them between his fingers. "What are you?"

The cat's eyes crinkled up in amusement. "You said it yourself, didn't you? I am a cat. Now hurry along. Your mother will be back soon."

Shige watched as the animal's head slipped back out as effortlessly as it had appeared. The boy reached his hand back out, fingers hesitating briefly over the doorknob. He had seen a lot of unexplainable occurrences in the past several weeks. Things that would make people tremble in fear. Somehow, this seemed the hardest event to swallow yet.

But, the Kato boy thought, it's not like I have much to lose if I listen to him. Things really couldn't get much worse, right? At least when he talked to the cat, the cat talked back.

Taking a second to straighten his shoulders, Shige grasped the doorknob firmly and opened the door. The cat was sitting there on the other side, smiling up at him in that funny, smug way that only cats could pull off. "Well then, let's not waste any more time, shall we?" The animal uncurled its tail and stood up in a very leisurely manner. With a flick of its tail, it padded down the hallway towards the stairs, making no sign of stopping again until it reached its destination. "Come, Shigeaki. Keep up."

Shige followed along obediently, too confused to protest. "How'd you do that thing? With the door?"

The cat was taking the stairs two steps at a time. Shige had to hurry to catch up. "Cats exist on all planes at once. Some of us are just more adept at using this to our advantage than others."

Well, that made about as much sense as everything else Shige had experienced in the last several weeks. Having reached the first floor of the house, the two figures crossed the living room, heading straight for the back engawa and stopping just shy of the glass door leading to the backyard. The animal looked up at him, waiting.

Shige stared back, the makings of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Aren't you going to walk through it?"

"Don't be a snot, Shigeaki."

The boy frowned but reached for the handle anyway, unlatching the lock and sliding the door back on its track. The cat replied with an impertinent 'thank you' before trotting out onto the engawa and planting itself on a nice, sunny spot of land, as if that place had always belonged to it. It tucked its paws under its body and wrapped its tail around itself. "Come along, don't dawdle. And close the door; you're letting all the cool air out."

Shige's frown deepened. He didn't appreciate being treated like a guest in his own home, and especially not by a cat. Nonetheless, he stepped out onto the engawa, sliding the door shut behind him and plopping down next to the animal. He didn't relish the idea of sitting outside in the heat, but he figured the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could go back inside to his nice, soft bed. Though he'd be lying if he said the cat's offer didn't make him more than just a little curious.

They sat there in silence for quite some time, Shige anxious and the the cat entirely at ease. The boy fidgeted, sitting on his hands and stealing furtive glances at the creature next to him. It seemed more preoccupied with soaking up the sun than continuing their earlier chat, and the more nonchalant the cat seemed, the more Shige's apprehension grew. "So--"

"Ahhhh," the cat purred. "Yes, the outdoors are much better setting for conversation, don't you think?"

All Shige managed was a surprised shrug. "I guess."

"I have found that it's much easier to speak freely when you're not confined to a single space. But we did not come out here to discuss the benefits of nature. There are more pressing matters at hand."

"Like...?"

"You, Shigeaki."

"What about me?"

"You asked for help."

"I did?"

The cat's eyes crinkled up in amusement. "Indeed, you did. Unless I'm mistaken and there's some other little boy nearby who can see ghosts and prayed for assistance, in which case, would you be so kind as to point him out to me?"

Normally, Shige would have said something about the cat's sarcastic tone, but he was too busy racking his brain, trying to recall any time where he'd specifically asked for help. And then, like someone had flipped a switch in his brain, memories of the trip to the shrine two days ago rushing back to him. He had already written the attempt off as a flop and pushed it to the back of his mind to be forgotten. "Wait, that worked?"

"Why wouldn't it?" the cat groused, uncurling a paw to lick at it disdainfully. "You did ask for help, did you not?"

"But... I messed it up."

Again, the cat made that strange purring-meowing noise it called a laugh. "You think we're that preoccupied with formalities? We would be shoddy folk indeed if we turned down the pleas of children in need. Especially when they offer us the shiniest coins they possess."

A flurry of questions stirred to life in Shige's mind as he looked long and hard at the animal before him. There was nothing otherworldly or divine about it. No aura that radiated greatness. Just a seemingly ordinary, entirely unspectacular Japanese house cat. That could talk. And phase through walls. "What are you? Really?"

"I am--"

"--a cat, right? I know. You've said that already."

"And yet you keep asking, young Kato. Don't be cross with me because the answer hasn't changed."

Shige sighed, defeated. The cat didn't seem to be in any hurry to reveal its secrets, and the harder he pressed, the more elusive its answers became. There really was no choice but to drop the subject. "So how can you help me?"

His feline companion sat up, blinking up at the sun. It focused its attention on some far off point, eyes darting back and forth from one undetermined point to another, as if the answers were written out in front of them, plain as day. "Imagine, for a moment, that everybody has a door in their mind, Shigeaki. It is a heavy door, very sturdy and very sound. With a little effort, some people can force the door open, but for most it is closed their entire life." Finally, the cat's attention shifted back to him, green eyes steady and piercing. "For you, the door is forever ajar. Only open far enough to peek at what lies beyond."

"So," Shige hedged, "the door is like the ability to see ghosts?"

"Yes, I do believe that is the metaphor I was going for."

Shige chose to ignore the cheeky tone of the cat's words. He was too distracted by the eager thoughts rolling about in his head. "Then you can help me close the door?"

The cat's features changed almost imperceptably. Its eyes softened and ears shifted backwards ever so slightly, expression morphing from wise to wistful, almost pitying. Apologetic. "I'm afraid that's the one thing I can't do. I can help you swing it wide or keep it from opening more, but closing it is not within my power."

The boy couldn't help the dejected whine that laced his words. He had thought, for a brief second, that he'd had something to be optimistic about. "But... I mean... You said you were good at using your cat powers. Can't you just use them now?"

"If it were at all possible, believe me when I say that I would. But mental doors and physical ones are two very different things, Shigeaki."

Shige's face crumpled under the weight of the cat's words. He sucked in a sharp breath, chin falling to his chest. He knew that tone. It was the same one his parents had used a few years back to explain to him why he couldn't play with the neighborhood cats anymore. The 'no, it's not fair, but there's nothing you can do about it' voice. He hated that tone, wanted to yell and pout the moment he heard it. He wanted to wail that it didn't make sense, that none of it made sense, and to kick and cry and scream because it just wasn't fair and why him? Looking over, he noticed that the cat was smiling at him sadly and it made Shige feel ten times worse. The cat wanted to help and they both knew it, just as they both knew that there was nothing that could be done. It had been Shige's own fault for getting ahead of himself. That didn't make the reality of the situation any less crushing. "So I'm going to see the ghosts forever? They won't go away?"

Silence reigned, thick and uncomfortable, and Shige had to blink viciously against the prickling sensation at the back of his eyes. When the cat spoke, it was soft, comforting. "Yes," a pause, "and no. Sometimes, with age, the door will close on its own. If you're lucky."

Shige frowned. Luck was not his strong point. All the same, he felt something akin to hope sputter to life in his chest. He shouldn't let himself get carried away and he knew it but he wanted to so badly. "How long does that take?"

The cat shrugged its shoulders. "No one knows. For some it's years; others it takes decades. Or it could never close. In the meantime, I can teach you ways to send the spirits to where they need to go. It's a small comfort, but it's the least I can do to help."

Shige furrowed his brows. The cat may have enjoyed the confusion that his vague choice of words brought, but it was starting to give him a headache. "Where they need to go?"

The cat exhaled, not quite a laugh but a little more amused than a sigh. "To get rid of them, Shigeaki. I can teach you how to get rid of them."

"What, like fight them?" Images of sentai rangers flipping past in their colorful spandex suits and onmyouji in full formal robes, toting paper ofuda passed through the boy's mind.

"Depends on the ghost and how great a grudge they bear. Most are perfectly happy to move on. Some... require a considerable amount of convincing."

"Do I have to dress up or something?"

"Only if you want to."

Shige considered it briefly. "Not really."

"Pity," the cat smiled, eyes twinkling. "It's been a while since I had a good show."

Kato's eyebrows knit together angrily. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

"Just a bit. But I wasn't lying when I told you that I could help. Of course," it said, expression sobering, "that's if you're willing to accept my offer."

Again silence fell over the two while he considered. Shige chewed on his bottom lip. Fighting ghosts sounded like something he'd read in Shounen Jump; a fast action tale with a hot blooded, spunky protagonist and his faithful talking guardian beast. Something he and his friends would act out in the school yard and which adults would write off as mere fantasy. "Is it hard?"

"A bit. Nothing you can't handle, though."

"Is it dangerous?"

The cat stared up into Shige's eyes for a long moment, as if it were searching for something in the boy's face. "It can be. But you will just have to trust that I will never willingly lead you into something you cannot handle."

"...okay." A pause. He was still hesitant to accept the offer, but worse was the fear that the cat might leave if he turned it down. Now that he'd finally found someone who understood him, he was loathe to push them away. Shige took in a deep breath. "Alright. I'll do it."

His companion smiled and nuzzled its head against Shige's arm, purring when the boy reached over and scratched the area behind the cat's ear softly. "Well then, let's treat each other well from now on, yes?" The cat turned its head just enough to lick along his hand, from palm to finger tips.

Kato laughed at the warm, wet, sandpaper feeling of the cat's tongue between his fingers. "Yeah. Thanks. Um..."

Shige looked at the cat expectantly. The feline ceased its licking long enough to return his gaze. "Yes?"

"Don't you have a name?"

The cat pulled back and looked at Shige disdainfully, as if he'd just suggested they go roll in jelly and sit on an ant pile. "Names are like collars, and collars are uncomfortable and restraining, so no, I do not have a name."

"So what? Do I just yell, 'hey, ghost cat' every time I have to call you?"

The cat's expression had gone from disdainful to flat out offended. "You do not call a cat, Shigeaki. I'd expect you know that, allergy not withstanding."

"Well, sorry for being stupid!" Shige frowned, snatching his hand back and crossing his arms angrily. The cat's snippy attitude was really starting to get to him. He'd just been trying to make friends. There was no reason to treat him like an idiot.

At his side, the cat was staring at him blithely. "I never said you were stupid." When Shige refused to unfold his arms or stop glowering, he heard the animal sigh. Once again he was greeted with the sensation of fur rubbing against skin, this time at his elbow. Shige tried to ignore the cat but found it was hard to brush off something so warm and pleasant, especially when his normal interaction with cats was next to none. Slowly, he unfolded his arms, raising a hand to begrudgingly scratch under the cat's chin. He was still a little irritated, but he supposed he could let it slide this time.

The cat closed its eyes, relishing in the affection and returning it was a purr and a quick swipe of its tongue over Shige's wrist. "Names are power, Shigeaki, To give them out at will is a dangerous thing. But, if it puts your mind at ease, you may give me a name. However, I warn you now that I shall never accept it as my own, nor do I plan on immediately scurrying to your side should you start shrieking it."

"But what if I need you?" Shige mumbled, trying not to sound whiny and not doing a very good job of it. "Didn't you say you came here to help me?"

"I did," the cat said, eyes surprisingly tender, "and I shall. I will never be far from your side in a time of need. You'll just have to trust me."

Shige nodded, running his fingers along the side of the cat's face. They hadn't even known each other for a full hour and yet he found that had complete faith in the animal's words. There was just something so very soothing about its presence that he couldn't help but feel at ease. A nagging part of his brain tried to tell him it was just desperation--that he had no one else to believe in, who knew what he was going through and who could tell him everything would be fine--but he refused to let the gloomy thoughts take over. His wish had been answered, and though he wasn't sure on the hows or whys, he decided it was best not to question. Magical talking cats didn't walk into your life every day.