Hiro Arikawa - The Travelling Cat Chronicles

And there was that terrible experience he’d been through as a child.

In spite of losing his parents so young, having his precious cat taken away from him, and now not being in time to see it again, Satoru blamed no one for his troubles, didn’t see any of it as unfair.

If it were him, Sugi would give himself over to the tragedy to make it work in his favour. He would make all sorts of lazy excuses, perhaps even exploit it to attract Chikako’s affections.

How could Satoru be so relaxed and natural? The more Sugi got to know him, the more he felt driven into a corner. Satoru was a rival he would never be able to beat.

He started to feel the lesser man despite his privileged upbringing, and though he had more to be thankful for than Satoru, he began to feel dissatisfied with life. He started arguing with his parents over nothing, saying malicious things, sometimes reducing his mother to tears.

I have everything I need in life, so why am I such a mean, small person? Why can’t I be kinder than Satoru, who has so much less?

Chikako, too, had been brought up like Sugi, never lacking a thing, yet she never felt like this when she was with Satoru. She seemed to naturally enjoy being with him. And this made Sugi feel even more cornered.

If things went on like this, he knew he was going to lose Chikako. And he had loved her for so much longer!

‘I wonder if Satoru has a special girl he likes.’

These words spilled out from Chikako one day when Satoru wasn’t with them.

It was the final blow. Sugi felt crushed.

Later, Sugi found himself saying, ‘I’ve always loved Chikako. Ever since we were kids.’

This confession was directed not at Chikako but at Satoru.

Sugi had expected that when Satoru heard this, he would put a lid on any feelings he himself might have for Chikako. He had deliberately confessed his feelings to Satoru, while pretending to seek his advice.

Satoru’s eyes opened wide in surprise and, after a moment’s silence, he smiled. ‘I get it.’

You do get it, right? You, of all people, should definitely get it.

Thus Sugi neatly stopped Satoru from declaring his feelings to Chikako, and in the end Satoru stepped aside without ever saying a word about them.

In the spring of their last year in high school, Satoru changed schools. His aunt, who was his guardian, often moved around with work.

Sugi was truly sad that his friend was leaving, but all the same felt a rush of relief. At the time, he felt, Now things will be okay.

‘HOW CAN YOU be such a good person when you’ve been so unlucky?’

Sugi was grumbling away before he realized what he was doing. It was the wine they’d opened at dinner. He had thought it was a good opportunity to treat Satoru to some local wine, so he’d bought some Ajiron red. This variety had a sweet fragrance and taste, and if you didn’t watch yourself it was easy to overdo it.

Chikako was out of the room having a bath, her absence another reason Sugi had let down his guard.

Satoru smiled wryly. ‘I don’t know if I’m a good person or not. But either way, I wasn’t unlucky.’

‘What are you talking about? Are you denying that life’s treated you unfairly, and trying to make me feel bad by not admitting it?’

‘I don’t know what you mean. The wine must have gone to your head. Try sobering up a bit before Chikako finishes her bath.’ Satoru pulled the wine bottle out of Sugi’s reach.

WE CATS GET all limp and squishy when we have catnip; for humans, wine seems to do the trick.

Satoru would occasionally drink alcohol at home. He’d down a few while watching one of those games with balls that humans like – baseball or soccer – and start feeling happy, and soon tumble sideways on to the floor.

If I inadvertently passed near him, he’d grab me and hug me to his face, saying ‘Nana- cha–n ’ in a syrupy voice, and I couldn’t stand it. So I tried to keep my distance. Plus he stank of alcohol.

There had been times when he drank away from the house and came back smelling of liquor, but he was always in a good mood. So I used to be convinced that when humans drank it always made them cheerful. Like catnip for cats.

I’d never encountered someone like Sugi, who got all gloomy and moody when he drank. When Chikako went to have a bath, he suddenly started pouting at Satoru, almost like he was cowering before him.

If drinking isn’t fun, then why do it? I was hanging off the top of the TV in the sitting room, eyeing the two men as they talked, until Satoru finally removed the bottle of wine from the table.

By the way, I became really fond of the TV there. Ours at home was thin and flat like a board, but the one there was more of a box, very enticing for a cat. Plus, it was faintly warm, and made my tummy feel toasty. Fantastic in the winter, I imagined.

It’s really old, Momo told me. In the past, all TVs were this shape, apparently. Going from this perfect design to an impractical flat shape is, if you ask me, a step backwards, technology-wise.

Momo told me that you could tell how old a cat was by whether or not they knew about these boxy TVs. In that house, Chikako gave priority to making things comfortable for cats and she dismissed the idea of getting one of the flat TVs. A splendid decision, in my opinion.

Why the glum look? If you’re bored of it, then I’ll have it back, Momo said to me.

She was stretching out her long limbs on a nearby sofa. She’d allowed me, the guest, to take her special seat on top of the TV.

It’s not that I’m bored. It’s just… I cast a glance at the worn-down Sugi.

I thought they were friends, but it doesn’t look as though Sugi likes Satoru very much, Momo suggested.

That can’t be true, I said.

Don’t think he wants him here. And yet he went out especially yesterday to buy that wine. Said he’d like Satoru to try it.

Why flare up at Satoru like that then? Why say things about Satoru’s character, as though he’s upset that he’s such a good person?

He likes him, but he also envies him. My master wants to be like your master.

I don’t get it. Satoru is Satoru, and Sugi is Sugi.

Exactly. But the master seems to feel that if he could be like Satoru, then Chikako would love him more.

Dear me, it sounds like it’s a pretty big thing for him.

Chikako used to really like your master, is what I gather, Momo clarified.

This was going way back. Way before Momo was born, when these humans were young. She said she heard it from the cat who lived with them previously.

What did Satoru think? Did he like Chikako, too?

If a woman who held on to an old boxy TV for the sake of a cat was Satoru’s wife, now that might be really wonderful , is what I was thinking.

Well, that’s not something we know. It’s just that, when it comes to Chikako, the master seems to have a guilty conscience regarding Satoru, said Momo.

Sounds like an awkward business to me. I mean, Chikako ended up choosing Sugi and became his wife, so what’s the problem?

Among cats, when a female chooses a mate, it’s a very clear-cut thing. Not just among cats, but with all animals, the female’s judgement about love is absolute. Of course, I haven’t experienced true love myself, having been looked after by Satoru since I was young. I was a little too gentle to have won the heart of a female when I was young. If I’d had a bigger face and a sterner expression, I might have. Like Yoshimine. If he were a cat, he’d definitely be a hit with the ladies.