Page 34 of We’ll Prescribe You Another Cat

When he emerged from the examination room, all he saw was the empty seat.

Tomoya hovered for a moment. Ultimately, he had received no treatment. All he had was a pointless conversation with a weirdo doctor.

He had wasted his time here while Nikké was quietly waiting for him at Suda Animal Hospital.

But strangely, he felt better—refreshed, even.

“Mr. Kajiwara?”

A pale hand beckoned to him from the reception. The nurse was looking at him from the window with a serious expression.

She was indeed beautiful, but when he recalled what she had said to the doctor earlier, he nearly burst into laughter.

“The doctor said to let any patients with appointments come in. Has anyone shown up?”

The nurse sighed.

“Ms. Torii has been giving us a hard time. Just when we think she’s finally coming, she vanishes again. She’s long finished her cat prescription, but she’s simply abandoned her treatment. In any case, we can’t close this place yet. I need the doctor to hold on until all the patients with appointments are healed.”

She suddenly turned to Tomoya with a stern glare.

“Mr. Kajiwara?”

“Y-yes?”

“He can be reckless when it comes to himself, so please take good care of him, okay? I’m counting on you.”

“…All right.”

He wasn’t quite sure why he was being scolded. He was really not very fond of this woman. He turned his back to the reception window when a surprisingly gentle voice reached his ears.

“When it’s time for your cat to go far away, he will always remember the joyful times he spent with you.”

Tomoya turned around and saw the nurse was smiling.

“I, too, passed away alone, when no one was around. Even so, it wasn’t cold, and it wasn’t lonely. I stayed with my special person until the very end and was happy until it was time for me to go. That’s what it means for a cat to love a person. If you ever meet my special person, please pass that on. Now, take care.”

Then, the nurse dropped her gaze as if she hadn’t said anything.

The doctor and nurse were both peculiar people and Tomoya didn’t understand if she was talking about someone else or herself. Or both? He slipped quietly through the metal door and left.

When he had rescued Nikké and the others, the fifth floor had been vacant except for this unit. Now, it seemed the unit at the end of the hall was occupied, and that alone was enough to reassure him that he was indeed in the real world.

Will I ever come here again? He might if those around him encouraged him to. He was grateful for those who cared about him, and he hoped not to worry them anymore.

So I probably won’t come here again.

* * *

As Tomoya was hauling around a mountain of freshly laundered blankets and cat beds, he spotted the boy who had adopted Wighead standing in the entrance hall. He and his mother were gazing intently at a sign for a workshop for children.

The mother noticed Tomoya first.

“Look, Ko, it’s the deputy director.”

The boy ran over to Tomoya. Tomoya set down the load he was carrying and crouched.

“Hey, sonny. You’re here for our workshop?”

“Yeah. I’m going to become a cat doctor when I grow up. And I drew a picture of Met and Met’s friend. You want to see?”

The boy’s words came tumbling out.

Tomoya didn’t quite understand what he said and looked to his mother for help.

“He’s talking about our cat. He thought ‘Helmet’ was too hard to say, so he decided to name him ‘Met.’ Ko, why don’t you show the deputy director your picture of Met?”

“Okay!”

The boy spread out the drawing paper in his hands.

“This is my Met.”

On the paper was a dynamic crayon drawing of…something. Perhaps the messy black-and-white blob was Met, formerly known as Wighead. It had what could be triangular ears and whiskers. There was also maybe a person and something resembling many-paneled curtains that surrounded Met. The boy pointed at his drawing.

“This is me. This is Mom. This is Met, and this is his friend.”

From the ears and whiskers, it was just barely clear they were cats. The drawing showed two cats accompanied by the boy and his mother. Everyone in the picture had bright, joyful eyes that made you want to smile just by looking at them.

“So that’s Met’s friend, huh?”

Still crouching down, he asked the mother, “Did you adopt another cat?”

“Oh, no! I have my hands full with Met and this child. Ko, that black cat is the deputy director’s cat, right?”

The boy nodded vigorously.

“Yeah. Exactly. The black one’s your cat. He’s best friends with Met.”

He thrust his drawing out toward Tomoya again. The black-and-white blob of crayon was Met. The black smear next to it was Nikké. He was also smiling.

“I see! You drew my cat, too. Thank you.”

“He’s in a climbing contest with Met. Right, Mom? It’s very cool.”

“You’re right.”

The mother gave Tomoya a wry smile.

“Met likes to claw up curtains and wallpaper, leaving everything tattered. Cats can be even more mischievous than kids. Is it quite the scene at your home, too?”

“At my home…”

It seemed that the many-paneled curtains were regular curtains that had been ripped. Tomoya gazed at the smiling black cat in the picture. His narrowed, cheerful eyes resembled those of Nikké, who was presently still sound asleep. Tomoya resolved not to let his worries lead him on unnecessary detours home. He would continue to work with his usual diligence and look forward to going home. After all, as any cat owner would understand, his cat was waiting for him.

“Yes, that’s true. My cat is quite the troublemaker, too. My cat also likes to scale curtains, walls, and just about anything to climb up pretty high. He’d definitely give Met a run for his money in a climbing contest.”

“Yeah! It’s a race!”

The boy laughed, then took his mother’s hand and headed into the workshop.

As Tomoya watched the backs of mother and son, he felt a kind of invisible bond or destiny. Since the visit to the clinic, Nikké’s full-moon eyes had remained closed. After checking to ensure there was a slight decrease in the amount of food and water and that the litter box was being used, Tomoya would brush Nikké’s unmoving body. He’d trim his claws and hold him tight. Cats smelled warm and pleasant. When he sank his nose into the back of Nikké’s neck, he could smell sunshine.

Nikké no longer climbed to high places. He could no longer play with other cats. He didn’t stretch nor stare fixedly at one spot.

Even so, Tomoya wanted Nikké, for as long as possible, to cling on—to him.

He gathered up the blankets and cat beds and headed to the back of the facility. On his way, he ran into Madoka, who was preparing for the workshop.

“Tomoya, did you see? That boy’s here to take the workshop.”

“Yeah, I did. It seems like his interests are growing. I hope he enjoys the workshop. Have a pawsitively fun and purrfectly lively class.”

As he began to head toward the storage, he noticed Madoka staring at him with a look of astonishment on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh no! Tomoya! You’re not better at all. If anything, you’ve become weird. You were not someone who’d say ‘pawsitively’ or ‘purrfectly’ anything.”

“Huh? That’s totally fine, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not fine at all. It’s completely out of character. Mr. ōta! Tomoya is still sick. He’s still troubled.”

Summoned by Madoka, Mr. ōta came over.

“What’s going on?”

“Tomoya’s saying things like ‘pawsitively fun’ and ‘purrfectly lively’!”

“Oh, dear…maybe he’s overtired?”

Tomoya left the joking duo behind as he lugged his load. He truly had a mountain of tasks to complete. He planned to tidy up efficiently, work as hard as possible, and return home to his beloved cat.