Page 26 of We’ll Prescribe You Another Cat
“Is something on your mind?”
asked Madoka Terada, who sat in the passenger seat.
Tomoya kept his expression neutral as he held the steering wheel.
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing. It was just a minor screwup,”
he said, avoiding her eyes.
“That’s exactly what worries me. You don’t usually ‘screw up.’ And it’s been happening more and more recently.”
Madoka’s tone was light but contained concern.
Tomoya pretended not to notice it.
“What else have I messed up?”
He knew he was feigning ignorance. Today’s mistake was glaring. They had driven to collect the supplies, only to discover that no order had been placed. This mistake was his own. The items he thought he’d ordered—cat food, litter, and pee pads—were all running low. Thankfully, the vendor took pity on them, letting Tomoya take the supplies and place the order after the fact, even throwing in some discounts and special offers for the rescue center. Tomoya could do nothing but apologize.
He also had an idea of the other mistakes Madoka was referring to. He was mixing up dates and times because he kept zoning out. He couldn’t afford to be so absent-minded. When he was, negative feelings arose, and he inevitably missed his appointment. Even when he tried to stay focused, his mind still wandered to something else in the back of his thoughts.
“Even yesterday, you forgot we had a meeting. If you forget, who’s going to remind me?”
“We were both late for that one.”
Tomoya laughed at the memory. When he had rushed to Madoka’s desk to call on her, he found her fast asleep at her desk, seemingly unaware that their break time had ended.
“Exactly! It’s a problem. At home, I have my daughter to wake me up. At work, I have you. That’s how I can nap in peace. Wait, what were we talking about? Oh, right. Is something on your mind?”
Madoka’s conversations often veered off topic, but today she managed to correct course.
“If you’re tired, you should really consider cutting back on your workload. You work the most overtime and handle all the out-of-town assignments yourself. You don’t even take a day off every week, do you?”
“I’ve taken time off here and there. I went to my parents’ place the other day and relaxed a bit.”
Tomoya laughed it off.
Madoka, a little older than Tomoya, was a single mother with a child in elementary school. She had been working at the center for almost as long as he had. Although she wasn’t particularly fond of cats, she chose this job for its proximity to her home. Her child, who was still a baby when she had begun working, was now in fourth grade.
“Mr. ōta is a little worried about you, too,”
Madoka said, her tone more serious than usual.
“If you collapse or quit, everyone at the center will be screwed. When you talk to people at our adoption fairs, we somehow find adoptive families for our cats very easily. You must have a knack for spotting destined connections.”
“That’s merely coincidental. Our cats find homes because our trainers care for them daily, preparing them for adoption. In fact, I’m the least likely person to have any destined connections with cats.”
The last line was spoken offhandedly, yet it sent a chill down his spine.
Madoka didn’t seem to notice.
“Anyway, if you have something on your mind, you shouldn’t keep it to yourself. You should talk to someone. I heard about this from my daughter—apparently, there’s an excellent mental health clinic near Dr. Kokoro’s practice.”
“Dr. Kokoro Suda’s practice?”
“Exactly. My daughter’s classmate’s parent’s acquaintance’s child apparently goes to that clinic. You turn either right or left on Rokkaku Street.”
“That’s extremely ambiguous.”
“Addresses in that area are super confusing—north of this and south of that. When I first moved to Kyoto after getting married, I thought they made the addresses perplexing on purpose, and it really bothered me. My ex, who was all proud of his ‘ancient capital of Japan’ roots, was all about using those old-fashioned addresses. Turns out that his family was from Yamashina, which is basically Shiga Prefecture! But when I pointed it out to him, he blew up and was all, ‘Yamashina’s technically within the city of Kyoto.’ Honestly, they say a relationship between a Tokyo woman and a Kyoto man never works out…Oh, I’ve gotten off track again. I’ll send you the clinic’s address later. Dr. Kokoro sees your cat, doesn’t he? Why don’t you drop by the clinic the next time you have a vet appointment?”
Dr. Kokoro Suda, the veterinarian at Suda Animal Hospital on Tominokoji Street in Nakagyō Ward, worked part-time at the cat rescue center.
A compassionate man, he performed exams at the center and even made house calls when necessary.
He had been the one to examine Nikké when he was rescued and did his best to save the other cats that were found at the same time.
Sadly, only two cats survived the horrific abandonment. That had been three years ago.
Trying to sound as indifferent as possible, Tomoya replied, “My cat isn’t being seen by Dr. Kokoro.”
“Oh, really? Did you switch vets?”
“Yes, Dr. Kokoro’s clinic is a little too far from my apartment.”
“Oh, then you might not be in that area often, huh? Visiting a mental health clinic can be daunting, so I thought it might be good for you to go to one with a solid reputation. You know, sometimes just talking about your problem can make you feel better. I’d be willing to listen to your problems, but according to my daughter, when she talks with me, the conversation tends to jump around, and that leaves her feeling even more confused.”
A faint chuckle escaped Tomoya. He continued to smile as he kept his gaze fixed ahead.
“Thanks for worrying about me. If I’m ever in the area, I’ll be sure to drop by the clinic.”
“Good. Good. You do that.”
Madoka looked relieved. Both Mr. ōta and Madoka were good people—they were kind to cats and people. They didn’t know that Tomoya was a terrible person, unworthy of their benevolence. He felt guilty that they were worried about him. If he let out the emotions he’d bottled up inside, he’d cause trouble for everyone.
That’s why he couldn’t speak to anyone at the rescue center. He didn’t want to discuss it with his friends or family. He hated the idea of even putting it into words.
There were some things that should remain unsaid.
Even so, he wondered if saying it out loud might bring some relief. Thoughts of the mental health clinic lingered in his mind.