Chapter Text
The mere idea of it was spontaneous, something Yuuji had come up with on the spot.
There was a petite snow-colored cat that oftentimes sidled up against one of the windowsills belonging to the building across his street. He’d been fascinated with it ever since he arrived in Tokyo. Before he even had a chance to memorize the layout of his own apartment building, he’d already been able to distinguish how his window-neighbor’s cat looked all curled up in a white ball of fluff, or what expressions could take shape on its tiny face.
Most of the time, the cat would be lounging on the sill without a single care to give, sleepy cobalt eyes looking into something distant before finally drifting into dreamland. It seemed to love napping in the early afternoons, its furry legs neatly tucked under its belly, its tail coiled around its rounded body. Watching the feline slumber whenever he had the chance honestly helped Yuuji settle down while he was still adjusting to his new city life.
He’d taken to calling the cat ‘Shiro’ for the past month. And yet it always seemed wrong somehow, like it was impudent towards the cat and his neighbor for Yuuji to assign a nickname without permission.
It took him a while to understand the twinge of discomfort and loneliness that came with not knowing how to properly address something that swelled warmth within him. Yuuji had been meaning to show his thanks to the cat for brightening up his day each time it popped into view through the window. So when the notion of learning the adorable creature’s name came up, even his apprehension from interacting with his total stranger of a neighbor hadn’t been reason enough to dissuade him from taking action.
It’s a cloudless evening tonight, with all of Yuuji’s university books finally stowed away for tomorrow’s lectures. A brilliant plan had popped into his head a few days back, and now that he’s finally setting it in motion, he thinks nothing short of divine intervention could prevent him from seeing it through.
Tearing off a fresh page from one of his notebooks, Yuuji quickly gets to work with the marker he rummaged from his study. He pulls his panda-shaped lamp towards him as he sat by his bedside table, his paper being filled with large, swooping letters.
猫の名前はなに？
(WHAT’S THE WHITE CAT’S NAME?)
Once Yuuji tacked off the statement with a question mark, he runs a clammy hand through his locks before taking a final inspection of his handiwork. Satisfied that his writing seemed legible enough, he smoothes the edges of the paper against his window with a few strips of tape. He knows it’s a selfish whim, but also hopes that maybe things will work out, and that his neighbor had the grace to accommodate his request for their cat's name.
Yuuji hasn’t been excited like this for something in a long while, and the realization is as stark to him as it is comforting.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
Fifteen minutes pass.
He waits, patient.
The manga he recently bought is helping him pass the time, Yuuji thumbing through some of its chapters.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
When the thirty-minute mark hits, worry starts to gnaw at Yuuji’s conscience.
The moon outside his room waxes bright even after passing its apex, and it’s the only distraction he has while waiting for some sort of sign.
But like a bolt from the blue, he suddenly jerks and realizes with a fluster––the lights from his neighbor’s apartment had been turned off for about an hour now. With how keen he was to put a name to the unknown cat’s face, he’d forgotten his own tendency to be awake at ungodly hours. In hindsight, he probably should have prepared for this hours ago.
I’m so dumb, Yuuji berates himself, embarrassment flooding through him as he desperately holds back from outright bashing his head against the wall. He studies the paper he attached to the window with a good amount of chagrin, grumbling and staving off how awkward he felt as he settles into bed.
Though he’d been confident about his well-planned note, the creeping uncertainty that comes with anticipation steadily begins to eat away at him. Now that he’s reflecting on his actions with a clearer head, Yuuji’s not sure if his neighbor would even afford him a response by the time they’re met with his question. Hell, nothing comes to mind when he tries to remember any instance wherein he could have glimpsed his neighbor’s face. He hasn’t even been remotely acquainted with them, and Shiro’s owner doesn’t owe him anything.
But that doesn’t stop him from hoping.
Just maybe, Yuuji thinks––wants to believe, as he breathes out a hushed laugh, the sun might be gentle and forgiving tomorrow morning.
Turning his bedside lamp off, he burrows under his covers in an attempt to calm the unease swimming beneath his chest. He spares a cursory glance towards his window, slightly amused at how unsuccessful the moonlight seemed to be, trying to filter through. The paper stares back at him, a reminder that sometimes, great things come with tomorrows.
That reassuring thought is what sends Yuuji to sleep.
The sun is, unfortunately, not gentle and forgiving the next morning.
Instead of bright blue skies, it’s a complete downpour outside, with no room for clear weather on the horizon.
Yuuji blearily wakes up to the irritating tone of his alarm, a languid hand rubbing his eyes of sleep. When he makes a grab at his phone to put a stop to the offending device, he almost fails to save it from accidentally falling off the table. Yuuji’s careful as he grasps it and sighs, relieved that he hadn’t just sabotaged his phone. In an effort to make sense of the world, he checks the time.
7:30AM.
Yuuji’s eyes widen.
For real?
He blinks twice for good measure.
The numbers remain the same.
Shit!
As if to scorn him further, his pile of haphazardly stacked books are now scattered into a disarray on his bedroom floor. He probably smacked the edge of his bedside table last night and knocked them over. But what truly baffles him is that he's unsure whether it took him this long to wake up when his alarm was set to go off thirty minutes ago, or if he unintentionally hit the snooze button.
Whatever the outcome might have been, he knows he can’t keep dawdling.
I’m going to be late!
Yuuji retrieves a pair of dark wash jeans and a warm-toned hoodie from his closet, yanking them on after discarding his pajamas. He chucks his course books into his knapsack, puts on his socks, and straps into his trainers before confirming how much time he has left. His wristwatch informs him that he still has more than a quarter-hour to make a run for first period.
He shuffles into his ensuite bathroom on autopilot and quickly washes his face, styling his hair afterwards with practiced speed and efficiency. As soon as he’s pleased with the end result, he turns to head out of the apartment, when his eyes immediately catch sight of the paper affixed on his window. Recalling his own antics last night, Yuuji sneaks a peek at his neighbor’s window, hopeful to find out whether they were kind enough to share their pet's name with him.
But there was no note in sight.
...Damn it. So much for asking.
Even though he fully understood that it was possible for him not to receive an answer, that perhaps a positive reaction or any form of acknowledgment from a stranger was too much to ask for, Yuuji still couldn’t help the upset that wanted to swallow him up as he spies his neighbor’s window devoid of a reply.
“No dice, huh?” he exhales into the quiet of his room, mindful to keep the disappointment at bay.
Yuuji slaps his cheeks to refocus his attention. No response likely meant no interest, and he tries to salvage his upbeat mood, snatching his umbrella from the rack beside his front door so he could keep dry from the torrential rain. Hurrying out of his apartment, Yuuji promptly rushes for school. He’ll have to remove the paper he stuck to his window once he returned home later.
“Guess I’ll have to keep calling the cat ‘Shiro’,” he sighs, making a mad dash to his university.
Yuuji arrives at his 8AM class in a record-breaking five minutes.
By the time he comes back to his apartment, Yuuji sees the early evening bathe his living room in a warm and dusky orange. He toes off his shoes by the entryway and tosses his backpack on the couch, sauntering towards his balcony to slide the door open and bask in the evening breeze. Folding his arms atop the balcony railing, his eyes follow the sun’s descent beyond the horizon. He thinks it’s an enthralling sight, watching as swathes of pink and orange fall back, chased off by the slowly billowing night.
Yuuji wonders why he’s feeling choked up, gazing at an ebbing sunset.
The last few weeks had been hectic for him, after transferring from his quiet hometown to the bustling metropolis. His late grandfather fiercely pushed for him to pursue a college degree after high school, and to eventually acquire stable work. As annoying as his grandfather had been, Yuuji loved him a great deal, making the decision to respect his wishes. He applied to a reputable university in Tokyo and, with sheer luck, was able to pass.
That was the last bit of good news his grandfather had been able to hear.
Yuuji didn’t allow himself to grieve for very long. His application had been approved during the latter half of the university’s previous semester, and he’d been instructed by the school to forward the necessary documents for his transfer the soonest he could. While his grandfather’s insurance helped secure funding for his tuition, Yuuji set aside the remaining balance so he could only use them for emergencies. He wanted to pay off his living expenses by himself, carrying out part-time work once he got to Tokyo.
The idea of transferring hadn’t been too burdensome for Yuuji, but the physical aspect of moving house and purchasing new furniture and household appliances was. On top of his classes, juggling work and self-studies during his first month felt like a struggle while he was still getting used to the big city. And while he had his classmates to thank for helping him settle in, there was only so much they could do for him.
He’d made friends as easily as his disposition allowed, and yet he couldn’t wrap his head around the muted emptiness he felt even after spending time with and enjoying the company of his university peers. He liked his classmates a lot and could sense the feeling was mutual, but his relationships remained, against his better judgment, lacking.
It scared him to think that the only real bond he’d ever have was with his grandfather.
But he’d forgotten something important—silver linings existed for a reason.
One of the only things that gave Yuuji a sense of comfort during his first month was watching his neighbor’s cat across the street. On his first day at his new apartment, he noticed the small feline napping on his neighbor’s windowsill. Once became twice, then a few times, and before he knew it, Yuuji eventually came to look forward to seeing the curious creature almost everyday. Since then, he’d observe how it would patter about by the window, sometimes standing at attention, other times nestling itself carefully into a corner to sleep the afternoon away.
Even the smallest of its mannerisms seemed to chip at some unknown force deep within him, causing him to drop some of his defenses. Yuuji hadn’t realized how much of a front he’d been putting up until he caught himself only able to be at ease in his own home.
Without meaning to, the little critter inadvertently wormed its way into his heart. And by the time Yuuji had noticed, he’d already become much more relaxed and carefree, as if time had never stopped for him like it did in Miyashiro.
He’s felt grateful towards his neighbor's cat for a while now.
His message ringtone suddenly fires off, breaking Yuuji away from his musings. He checks his phone and sees the sender ID from one of his university friends. It’s an invitation to hang out with some of their other coursemates at a nearby pub. Under normal circumstances, he’d usually jump at any opportunity to become closer with his friends. But he can’t find it in himself to mingle with anyone tonight, let alone be sociable enough to entertain strangers.
Shooting his friend a polite refusal followed by a promise to accompany them next time, Yuuji finally reenters the living room and closes the balcony door behind him. He lost track of time while he was out by the veranda, now only remembering to flick his lights on since the scant illumination from outside could barely help him from navigating around his apartment. He strolls into his bathroom for a well-deserved shower, and grabs a cup of noodles from one of the cabinets in his kitchen. He makes sure that it hasn't expired first before cooking it for dinner.
Catching up on a few of his other course subjects and winding down afterwards feels like a productive way to spend his evening, so Yuuji decides to do just that. Studying might not be his favorite pastime, but he’ll need all the time he can get to pass his classes. He heads towards his bedroom to begin progress on some of his more advanced midterm topics. Just as he’s about to place his dinner on the study table, Yuuji spots the pitiful piece of paper he taped last night still firmly adhered to his window.
“Crap, I forgot about that.”
Yuuji sets his dinner aside and moves closer to the window, intent on peeling off the edges of the note so he could throw it in the trash. But the moment he starts picking at the adhesive to remove one of the note’s corners, he abruptly stops in his tracks.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Is that…? No way.
Out of the corner of his eye, only dimly revealed by a fraction of moonlight, Yuuji could make out something attached to his neighbor’s window.
“S-Seriously?” he sputters, disbelief coloring his voice, “What the hell, dude...”
Across the way, there’s a neatly-written name on a pristine white paper, stuck on the window where his neighbor’s cat often appeared behind. The unexpected laugh that bubbles out of him catches Yuuji by surprise. He’d planned on forgetting this whole affair once he took down the note he prepared last night. But the incredulous sight that greets him fills Yuuji with awe, and he’s floored that he’d actually gotten a response.
It worries him that his eyes might be playing tricks on him, showing him an illusory note that he could have simply dreamed into existence. But as he slaps a hand on his grinning mouth and feels the slight sting on his skin, he’s downright thrilled, knowing he made the right choice to stay home tonight.
Yuuji’s just been gifted with the one thing he’d almost lost hope in ever obtaining: the name of his neighbor’s adorable white cat.
うめ
(UME)
“Ume,” Yuuji tests on his tongue, already undeniably smitten.
Dinner forgotten, he rips off the remainder of the paper still taped to his window and throws it somewhere behind him, not bothering to look whether it went inside the bin. Fumbling hands scrabble to make a new note, Yuuji all too eager to get an imitation of a conversation going between him and his window-neighbor. He can’t wipe the smile off his face, still reeling from the fact that his kind, magnanimous neighbor actually revealed their cat’s name to him. Not wasting any time after taking a new page from the same notebook he used previously, Yuuji composes his response.
うめちゃんまじかわいいな！！
あんたって優しい人だな、
ありがとう！！
(UME’S REALLY CUTE!!
YOU’RE A KIND PERSON,
THANKS!!)
He smiles at the finished note, and finds it kind of incredible that he’s interacting with someone he’s never met using paper messages on windows. The situation from last night repeats itself, with Yuuji sticking tape against the edges of his new note, pinning it where the first one was placed before. Looking over the street, the warm glow from inside the apartment where Ume’s owner lived catches Yuuji’s attention. Just the fact that they were still awake at this time of the night fuels his anticipation.
“I hope they answer back,” Yuuji mutters to himself, wonders if he’ll be lucky enough to receive another reply.
Not knowing how else to channel his enthusiasm, he plops down on his desk chair and gathers up some of his classes’ reading materials. He’d rather study and distract himself now than wait like he did the previous night, replaying a mantra of ‘patience, have patience’ in his head as he opens one of his textbooks.
The next few hours drag on as Yuuji becomes fully absorbed into his readings.
A newly-attached paper on his neighbor’s window remains unnoticed in the meantime.