Page 12 of We’ll Prescribe You Another Cat

“Wow, this is impossible,”

he said. I’m going to drop the cat. It’s going to slide off!

Back when his family had still been a happy unit, they had attended the neighborhood association’s mochi-pounding event together. The mochi made with a traditional mallet and mortar was gooier than machine-pounded mochi, and it had almost slipped out of his hands. He remembered how everyone had laughed uproariously as he struggled not to drop it.

It feels exactly the same.

This cat is like mochi. Freshly pounded mochi.

Remember the sensation of that mochi.

The cat’s butt was about to slide off. Tatsuya gathered the cat in his arms, carefully rotated her pudgy belly and spine, and finally managed to position her four legs underneath. He grabbed the cat’s rump firmly with both hands and placed her cheek against his chest. While all of this was taking place, the cat remained glumly compliant.

How is she so floppy? Won’t a cat feel uncomfortable if her jiggly tummy’s about to tumble off? As Tatsuya wondered, What kind of animal is this?, he let out a deep sigh.

The doctor sat before him.

“How is it? Do you feel a tingling sensation?”

Tingling sensation? It reminded Tatsuya of the low-frequency muscle stimulator pads they placed on his back at the chiropractor’s. He shook his head.

“I see. But do you feel a slight warmth?”

“Well…”

Now that the doctor had mentioned it, he could feel the cat’s warmth through his clothes. The cat not only had a large area but also had a very long coat. Her ears were sharp triangles, with long hairs growing on the inside as well as the outside. The tips of her ears were tufted like the bristles of a calligraphy brush. He had thought cat ears were simply thin, triangular flaps of skin, but experiencing them up close like this, he realized they were fuzzy with ear hairs like his own.

No, they were different from his ear hairs. His own ear hairs were not this fine and soft. A warm creature with cute ear hairs.

Tatsuya nodded earnestly.

“Then let’s leave her there for a bit. Oh, so what was it you were telling me? Six months ago, your wife passed away, and now everything bothers you. So you’ve started binge eating and drinking, constantly filing claims with customer service, trolling people on social media, ding dong ditching, littering empty cans—”

“Wait a second!”

Tatsuya was dumbstruck.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but none of that’s true.”

“Oh, is that so? So, your wife passed six months ago…”

“That part is correct. She died suddenly from a stroke. Just collapsed out of the blue. It all happened so quickly. It still doesn’t feel real to me.”

“But you must feel it, right, since everything started feeling tedious and irritating for you?”

“So, you were listening to me.”

The doctor chuckled.

“If someone who used to be around is not anymore and it has changed you, there’s a reason for it. People say it’s a bad thing to be a recluse, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. You’re choosing to withdraw from society because you want to.”

“Well, it’s not that I want to withdraw from society. Well, in my case, maybe I do like to laze about at home, but there are plenty of people in the world who want to go outside but just can’t.”

“You mean like, they’re locked up?”

“Huh?”

“Like there’s a lock on their cage?”

The doctor had a faint smile on his face, but it was impossible to read what emotions lay within.

Tatsuya felt a chill go down his spine. The cat lifted her chin and gave him a look.

Buried in the cat’s thick fur and folded into her flesh was a pink, worn-out collar. Just as the nurse had said, it seemed too tight for her chubby neck.

Isn’t it dangerous for a collar to be that tight? thought Tatsuya.

“I don’t know much about cats, but is it okay for her collar to be this snug?”

“Hmm? Let me see.”

The doctor leaned forward so close that he was almost in Tatsuya’s arms.

“Oh, you’re right. It’s almost at its limit. Okay, let’s take it off, then.”

The doctor buried his hands around the cat’s neck, removed the pin from its notch, and undid the buckle, revealing an indentation in the fur around the cat’s neck. The doctor seemed very accustomed to handling animals, almost as if he was a vet. Tatsuya wondered if the cat had been uncomfortable, but after giving herself a good shake, all sign of the collar disappeared. And once again, she looked grumpy.

“This cat’s very tame. She seems not to mind anything,”

said Tatsuya.

“She’s too lazy to even care. This is what true laziness looks like.”

“I see.”

The argument was oddly compelling. Even Tatsuya was more active compared to this cat. He would have at least readjusted his position himself before allowing a stranger to scoop him up by his butt.

He became aware of a numb feeling creeping up his legs. This enormous cat definitely weighed over ten kilograms.

“My legs are starting to tire.”

“Feeling any tingling?”

“Tingling…I think it’s just that my legs are all pins and needles because of the weight of the cat.”

The doctor gave a laugh.

“So your grandson—what’s going on with him again? If he’s become nocturnal, it’s better if he has a reflective layer of tissue in his eyes, one that bounces light back to his retinas, so he can see in the dusk. It allows in a lot of light and enhances your vision. You should ask your grandson about it. It’s pretty neat.”

Tatsuya couldn’t tell how serious the doctor was. Was it all a joke, or was he recommending some kind of therapy?

“My grandson wears contact lenses, so I don’t think that’ll work for him.”

“That’s too bad. It’s really handy, you know. People say being nocturnal is a bad thing, but that’s not true. By not seeing what you don’t need to see, you only focus on what you absolutely need to. Kind of like how a cat can walk the streets at night with just a little bit of light.”

“A little bit of light…”

“Is at least a little bit of light reaching your grandson? Or not at all? Is he in complete darkness?”

Tatsuya didn’t know how to answer the doctor’s insistent questions.

Was it pitch-black in Hayato’s room? If so, what could he do as a grandfather to help him? Did Hayato have enough strength to navigate with minimal light like a cat? When he dropped his chin toward the cat, he saw its mysterious eyes. Although they had a solid shape, they somehow appeared half liquid.

“Cats’ eyes are like water manjus.”

“Water manjus?”

The doctor burst out laughing.

“That’s a new one. Those jiggly, jellylike confections, right? Are they tasty?”

“Yes, they’re like transparent dumplings with smooth bean paste in the center. I…like them.”

Tatsuya glanced down. He was losing all sensation in his legs. The numbness was becoming too much to bear.

“Can you please move the cat? I think I’ve had enough.”

“It seems so. Did it loosen you up?”

Quite the opposite. My legs feel like logs. But if I say the wrong thing, who knows what this doctor will do to me. Tatsuya nodded until the doctor hauled the cat off him. The moment the pressing warmth had lifted, blood rushed into his legs. Tatsuya gritted his teeth.

“Job well done,”

the doctor said into the cat’s ear. Then, “Chitose! Can you please take the cat?”

The curtains parted with a swish, and the nurse strode in. She staggered a bit as she carried the cat in her arms toward the back.

For a while, Tatsuya couldn’t move. Once the numbness had eased a bit, he looked up to see the doctor slumped on his desk with his mouth open. He seemed to have suddenly fallen into a nap.

“Um, doctor?”

The doctor didn’t wake. There was a faint whistling sound as he breathed. Perhaps his nose was stuffy.

It was the first time Tatsuya had encountered a doctor, a clinic, or a treatment like this.

He stood up slowly and, with stiff knees, shuffled one step at a time out of the examination room. He staggered past the reception, but there was no one in sight.

This clinic is too strange. I’m never coming back here.

As he was about to waddle out of the clinic, the nurse appeared in the reception window.

“You left this behind,”

she said, presenting him with the pink collar. The leather was cracked, and the holes were stretched. Tatsuya blinked.

“No, that’s not mine.”

“You left this behind.”

“That belongs to—”

“You left this behind.”

“—to the cat just—”

“You left this behind!”

The nurse spoke over him. She held the collar out to him, glaring with an intense, imposing stare.

What is with this clinic?

Tatsuya accepted the collar with a shudder and stowed it quickly in his pocket. If he dawdled, they might apply another cat on him. He pushed open the door and emerged into the hallway. Just as the door was about to close, a voice rang out.

“Take care!”