Archive of Our Own

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A cat has nine lives.

For three he plays.

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1

Kenma is used to crossing the portals between the mortal realm and the otherworld. He does it on a whim mostly, whenever he’s bored or wants a reprieve from the needs his body is susceptible to on a mortal plane (mostly the hunger).

It’s simple enough crossing over a portal. They’re everywhere. Behind large bushes, that seemingly no sheers can tame, regardless of how new or sharp they are; down the small holes in the ground next to decrepit, old buildings; at the very top of trees who whisper in just the right tone; inside small boxes that no one can possibly fit in. (then, there are those of the sea, but Kenma knows better than to cross those. they always reek of danger and something foul, and that is more than enough to assuage any curiosity over what may be on the other side.)

These places and many more, Kenma is used to finding and traversing. He usually doesn’t find gods though.

It makes him stop in his tracks, looking over curiously. They’re not really doing anything, the god that is. They’re just standing still, hands tucked in their kimono and staring at the fog at their feet. Kenma has half a mind to just turn around and go back, boredom be damned. As much as he too belongs in the otherworld, he knows better than to incur the wrath of a god, but he doesn’t move an inch before the god calls out to him.

“It’s alright, you can stay if you want,” they say, lips quirking into a reassuring smile, even though their eyes don’t leave the fog.

“Thank you,” he says clumsily in the voice given to him by the otherworld. He doesn’t like using it, and he probably doesn’t need to either, but he doesn’t want to take any chances, and seem disrespectful.

The god shakes his head. “It’s fine, it’s fine. You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

Kenma feels gratefulness wash over him. They’re a strange god, this one, but a good one. He looks around and spots a pile of silk cloth haphazardly thrown around, and starts walking toward it, while examining his surroundings. It’s somewhere he’d never been to before. He’s always finding new places, but this one feels different, like it’s been there for a long time, like it’s on the edge of something.

Kenma reaches the pile and lies down making himself cozy. It’s probably the softest thing he’s ever felt. He feels his claws slowly extend and resists the urge to scratch the cloth. He watches the god, still standing a few feet away, and relaxes.

It’s a cozy place, with a sweet scent. Kenma can see a bunch of furniture lying around, and a lot of objects that he’s never seen before yet exude an aura of extreme worth, in varying states of disarray around the place, along with what seems to be pieces of cloth made from the same fabric Kenma was lying on.

Kenma doesn’t think much of it, as he burrows himself deeper into the cloth. He blinks a few times, and before long, he falls asleep.

When he wakes up the god is still standing in the same spot, and Kenma stretches his body, blinking languidly. He approaches the god, just enough to get in his field of view and lowers his head in gratitude.

The god smiles kindly and waves him away. “It’s a pleasure. It’s been a while since I had any company, you’re welcome to return any time you want.”

Kenma nods, and looks around one more time. It’s a nice place to rest he decides. He might come back some time.

With that thought he passes through the portal he came through, and returns to the mortal realm.

It’s a particularly cold winter, when he finally does come back. The snow had been piling higher and higher, and humans had been even more ruthless in their attempts to keep Kenma and other cats away from any manmade sources of warmth. The memory of the softness and warmth of the little cloth pile was enough to kick his body into motion and make him look for that particular portal. The god had extended his welcome, after all.

He passes through the portal and is immediately met with the sweet scent from before, and he feels warmth seep through his skin right down to his frigid bones. He exhales contently and takes a few steps forward. He stops when he sees the god.

They’re still standing in the exact same place staring at… something at their feet. Kenma watches him curiously before continuing his journey. He approaches the god once more and nods in greeting.

“Hello,” the god says, with a gentle smile. “Welcome back.”

Kenma is grateful that the god hadn’t kicked him out.

“Winter has been rough, hasn’t it?” the god asks. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Kenma nods gratefully and turns away to head to the pile of cloth he had been dreaming of since winter started, but stops in his tracks. It was no longer there. In fact, in it’s place was a bigger pile of wooly cloth. Kenma feels his pupils narrow, and he trots over eagerly.

The god chuckles. “I changed things a bit. I hope you don’t mind.”

Kenma nearly jumps into the wool, burrowing himself into it. He breathes in and lets out a long, and deep purr. It’s perfect. His head pops up from the pile to thank the god properly, and that’s when he notices that things are in fact different. There are no other pieces of cloth thrown around haphazardly anymore, besides the one Kenma is snuggled in, and the ancient artifacts laying around before are now freshly cleaned and carefully arranged around the dimension.

Kenma blinks and looks at the god curiously.

“I just thought it was time for some cleaning up,” the god says, answering a question that wasn’t asked. “Though I must say, you were the motivation I needed. Thank you.”

Kenma doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just burrows himself deeper into his little pile, and closes his eyes, falling asleep.

When he finally awakens, winter has passed, and he returns to the mortal realm once more.

The third time he comes back just out of laziness.

Food had been getting harder to come by, and there was a certain boredom to his days that he had been unsuccessful in trying to shake off, so he figures he might go visit the strange god and if nothing else, at least sleep a little.

He nearly falls over when he gets there and sees the god sitting down. Sure, it wasn’t that strange seeing someone sitting down, but throughout all the time he had spent there with the god, they had never really moved from their position, standing over the fog and watching. It gets even stranger from the fact that the god was casually sipping tea with a small table beside them, sitting in the same place as always.

“Welcome back,” the god says, eyes twinkling with glee. They seem to sense Kenma’s uneasiness because they put their cup down and motion Kenma over. “Please, come sit beside me. I prepared a few snacks for us.”

Kenma can’t really argue with food, so he does go closer, sensing a few other smells aside from the sweet scent that usually permeated the place. He reaches the small table and settles down on the soft pillow that was placed beside the god. The god reaches for a small plate on top of the table and places it in front of him.

It seems to be some sort of fish that Kenma had never tried before, but it smells really delicious, so Kenma gulfs it down without a second thought, feeling the hunger in is belly lessen. Once he finishes eating it the god places a small plate with some sort of white liquid in it. Kenma lowers his head and hesitantly takes a sip. It’s sweet. Confidence renewed, Kenma drinks the whole thing feeling like he’d never drank before.

Beside him, the god chuckles fondly and pats his head. “I know I shouldn’t spoil you like this, but I think it’s fine once in a while, right?”

Kenma mewls in response, and snuggles in his pillow. It’s then that he sees it, what the god had been staring at this whole time. Kenma’s eyes widen. It was… a portal?

There, right in front of them is a small, circular – portal? window? – Kenma can’t tell, but it seems to be some sort of pathway that shows the mortal realm. There, milling about, are thousands of humans just going about their days.

Kenma blinks curiously and looks up at the god.

“Ah, yes. I imagine it’s a bit strange to see a god spend their time watching humans,” they say. “But you see, there isn’t much to do these days.”

Kenma looks back down at the portal. He kind of gets it.

He stays for a bit more, just watching the humans side by side with the god.

The seasons pass and Kenma flits from the mortal world to the otherworld as he pleases. He keeps coming and going and the god keeps staring.

The god is fading, he notices one day.

He’s laying down beside them, as they slowly move a hand through his fur, when Kenma notices that he can see through them. His eyes widen and he jumps up, tail sticking straight up as he stares at the god.

“Ah, I’m sorry for upsetting you,” they say, curling and uncurling their fingers. “Time has really slipped by me.”

Kenma watches as the god becomes more and more see through.

“I’m dying,” they sigh. “Humans no longer remember me.” He curls his hand into a fist and smiles. “And there’s no god who can survive that.”

Kenma feels a budding feeling of panic, and he opens his mouth, raspy voice coming out to speak to the god. “Why won’t you do something? Why don’t you remind them that you exist?”

“Everything is fine now. To remind humans of peace, you have to bring war.” The god smiles wistfully. “I love humans too much. I just want them to be happy, and to remain on the path they’re on. They’re doing well, and I’m sure they’ll only become even better in time.”

Kenma disagrees. Humans really don’t seem to be that good, and they certainly haven’t done anything to warrant such care from such a gentle god, but he doesn’t argue. The god’s eyes remain locked on the portal with such fondness and intensity, as if there’s something the god is seeing that Kenma can’t.

Kenma swallows and sits down beside them, looking at the portal too. “What is your name, god?”

The god chuckles. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” The god’s eyes move from the portal and land on Kenma. They smile gently and pat Kenma on the head. “Thank you for the company, Kenma.”

With those words the god disappears. Immediately, the sweet scent that seemed to encompass the place vanishes and the near ethereal warmth it always held, seeps through the cracks in the dimension.

Kenma gets up and leaves. He never returns to that place.

2

There’s a huge wall at the edge of the city. It’s somewhat curved and encompasses a large area in which, smack dab in the middle of it, stood a large, imposing building. There seems to be only one gate, and there only two types of people that cross it. Poor people who go in with their arms full and come out with their arms empty, and rich people who go out with their arms empty and come back with them full.

It didn’t take long for Kenma to figure out that if he wanted an abundance of food, that was the place to look in. He spends a few days analyzing the coming and going of people, and looking for any cracks on the wall. On the third day, he finds a small hole, just large enough for him to fit through.

Kenma squeezes himself through the hole and enters the wall into a lush, wooded area. A few paces away, stands the tall, ornate building. Something tells him that walking through the front door wouldn’t be the best idea, so he slowly crawls around the yard. He gets to some thick shrubbery and decides to cross it instead of going around. When he comes out on the other side, he finds a small pond surrounded by small tress and colorful flowers.

He stops in his tracks as he spots a human sitting on a bench a few paces away, hands on his lap staring solemnly at the water. He tries to backtrack as inconspicuously as possible, but it’s too late, the human – a boy – has already noticed him. He was expecting some kind of yelling to occur then, but the boy’s eyes light up instead and he falls to his knees, beckoning Kenma closer with gentle hands and a soft voice. “Here, kitty.”

Kenma blinks, unsure of his intentions, but the boy looks kind, extending a soft hand at him, seemingly uncaring that his expensive clothes were getting soiled by the earth beneath his knees, so he does approach him, even if slowly.

Once he’s finally within reach, he pauses and sniffs the boy’s hand. He smells like seaweed, and freshly fallen cherry blossoms, and kindness, and Kenma decides he can stay. He lightly touches his nose against the boy’s hand and immediately the boy’s lips split into a grin, as he scratches Kenma’s ears. “Ah, you’re so cute, and your fur is so soft.”

The boy moves to grab him, but Kenma jumps back, hissing in displeasure. The boy looks surprised, but lowers his hands. “Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says, lowering his arms and placing his hands on his knees. He sighs, and then brightens up. “I know, I’ll go get you some food. Wait here for a moment.” With that, the boy gets up and starts heading toward the building.

Kenma contemplates his choices, and decides to wait. The boy soon returns with some food, lays it out on the ground in front of Kenma, and sits a few feet away, being much more mindful of the distance between them. Kenma perks up and digs in. It didn’t quite go the way he’d planned, but he has food, and that’s all that matters.

Once he finishes eating, he looks up at the boy and nods in thanks. The boy smiles at him, and opens his mouth to say something, but Kenma’s already gone the way he came.

He comes back again a few days later, to find the boy sitting in the same place, with the same sad look he had before, though this time there’s already food wrapped neatly on the bench beside him.

Kenma takes a few steps forward and the boy lights up when he sees him. “You came back!” He rushes to unwrap the food beside him and shoves it in Kenma’s direction. “I have some food for you!”

Kenma purrs in satisfaction and hops on the bench. The boy watches him eat with a smile, though he’s fidgeting with his hands the entire time. Once he’s finished, Kenma takes one look at his hopeful face and sits down. Kenma watches as the boy smiles and tentatively reaches a hand toward him from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t move. Once he touches Kenma’s fur, he sighs in relief and Kenma purrs.

“I was worried I’d scared you off last time. I’m glad you came back.”

They sit in content quiet, for a moment, enjoying the rays of sunshine as they filter through the trees, the soft sound of the wind blowing through the grass and the koi fish playing in the water. It’s a beautiful day.

“Yuuki-sama!” A loud voice cuts through the air, making both of them jump in surprise.

The boy, apparently named Yuuki, looks back at the building and gets up in a flurry. “Oh, no, someone’s coming. You should get out of here.” He shoos Kenma off the bench, and Kenma jumps down, chest rumbling in annoyance. “I’m sorry, please come back. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Kenma huffs in annoyance and leaves.

He does come back though, and he keeps coming back. Sometimes, they spend the entire afternoon in the garden, and other times Yuuki has to kick him out in a hurry, but he always has a treat when Kenma comes back after that, so Kenma doesn’t really mind.

One thing he notices though is that every time he comes back, Yuuki looks more and more sad.

“I’m going to leave this place soon,” Yuuki confides in him one day. Kenma who was laying down, as Yuuki softly ran his hands through his fur, raises his head from his paws to look at him. “I’m going to marry someone from the next land over, in order to strengthen the relationship between our clans.”

Kenma watches him for a moment and mewls. Yuuki smiles at him, a sad quirk of his lips, and pats his head. “It’s fine. I’m a little sad about it, but it’s my duty.”

He faces the large wall encompassing the building, and looks up at the sky above it. It’s filled with red and orange hues, the sun already setting on the other side of the wall, kissing the earth goodbye. It looks beautiful. Yuuki sighs. “I just wish I could see my land one more time.”

They sit in silence until the sun completely sets, bathing the garden in darkness interrupted only by the soft rays of moonlight. Yuuki gets up and smiles at him. “You can come back if you want. I’ve instructed one of the maids to bring you food every day.”

Kenma blinks and hops off the bench, making his way to the hole in the wall, leaving Yuuki standing in the moonlit garden all alone.

The next time he comes back, Yuuki is nowhere to be seen, and there is a small woman laying out food on the bench where they usually sat. When she spots him, she smiles. “You must be the small friend the young master spoke about.” She reaches for some meat, and extends it his way. “Here have some.”

Kenma turns around and leaves. There is nothing left for him in that place anymore.

3

Kenma finds a ghost.

A human. Too old to be a boy, too young to be a man, just sitting on the sidewalk directly under a streetlight, in the middle of the night. With the way the neon lights and the bright screens in the buildings around him, phased through him, Kenma almost missed him. But his eyes are sharp as they’ve always been, and he catches the way the boy’s throat constricts around nothing as he stares into the night.

Kenma considers just walking past him and pretend he didn’t see anything, because really, it’s none of his business, and there’s nothing he could even do really, but something about the emptiness in the ghost’s eyes as he stares straight ahead into what appears to be the only place in the entire street without any light, made him stop his movements and approach the ghost.

He stops right in front of him, but remains standing, ready to bolt at any sign of danger. Not all spirits take kindly to being approached, and Kenma isn’t taking any chances, no matter how lost a soul is. He watches the ghost for any sign of movement, but nothing happens. He tentatively meows to get his attention and stiffens as the ghost’s eyes land on him. His worry is short-lived though because the ghost immediately jumps back, letting out a soft ‘ah’, before his lips split into an ear to ear grin.

“Hey there little fella, I didn’t see you,” the ghost coos, reaching over to pet him. Kenma resigns himself to being petted and leans in to the touch. The ghost perks up at this and starts stroking him even more. “Ahhh, you’re so cute. Cats don’t usually let me pet them, you know?”

Kenma can tell. He’s scratching the right places, but the strength he’s using is just enough to be on this side of uncomfortable. He growls a bit, which the ghost seems to take as an incentive and tries to slowly back away, so as to not hurt his feelings. “You have to go already?” His face falls but he smiles nonetheless. “Thanks for spending time with me.”

Kenma blinks at him and continues on his way. He stops once he’s reached the corner and looks back to see the ghost standing now, hand clenched in front of him and looking up at the sky, with a smile on his face. Kenma turns the corner and takes off running, there are still things he has to do tonight.

Kenma thought that would be the end of that, but fate clearly wasn’t on his side because some time after that he finds the ghost again. This time crouching in the middle of a somewhat crowded street, looking very panicked in front of a crying little girl.

“Ah, please don’t cry! I’ll help you find your mother. Ah, here!” The ghost waves his arms wildly and a big leaf that was resting in front of her feet, starts bending and shifting until it takes the shape of a dog. Kenma watches in mild amusement as the girl completely fails to notice it and continues crying, making the ghost even more panicked.

The amusement quickly vanishes though, when the ghost spots him and beckons him over. “Ah, the cat from the other night! Please, come help.”

Kenma really, really considered turning around and walking away, but the ghost looks panicked and he isn’t so much of an asshole that he would ignore him. So Kenma slowly walks over to them, wondering how he could be so unfortunate as to keep getting into weird situations, and stops. The girl doesn’t notice him either.

“Look, here’s a good kitty! You can pet him if you want and then we can go find your mother,” the ghost says, smiling brightly in an effort to make the girl more at ease. However, she doesn’t hear him and keeps crying, calling out to her mom. He looks at Kenma almost pleadingly, and Kenma wishes he could just leave, but instead he moves toward the child, hoping that he doesn’t get kicked.

“Is everything alright?” A woman stops and pats the girl on the shoulder, trying to get her attention, and she stops crying. Both Kenma and the ghost sigh in relief though for very different reasons.

“I… I lost my mom.” The girl sniffles, rubbing her eyes.

The woman smiles reassuringly and ruffles her hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you find you her.” She grabs the girl’s hand and looks around.

“She went that way,” the ghost says, pointing towards one end of the street. Kenma feels the sudden breeze that blows the way he’s pointing, and the woman turns to face that side of the street.

“Why don’t we try going this way, shall we?”

The girl nods, still rubbing her face, and they start walking down the street to search for the girl’s mother.

Kenma and the ghost watch them go, and as soon as they disappear the ghost turns toward him with a smile. “Haha, thanks! You keep helping me.” He crouches down and pets Kenma again. This time he’s more gentle, and Kenma purrs in appreciation.

“Well then,” He stands up and sighs, “I’ll see you around, kitty.”

Kenma watches him go, notices the unsteady steps he takes, sees the way he looks around dazedly, but there’s nothing he can do. He’s not a guardian of lost souls, he’s just a cat, so he turns around and goes on his own way.

Kenma keeps running into the ghost by accident. In front of a restaurant, outside a school, leaving a pet shelter. Each time the ghost makes it a point to pet Kenma. dogs bark at me whenever I’m near he says but cats are nice. still, you’re the only one who lets me pet you. So Kenma puts up with him, lets him follow Kenma around even if it is troublesome sometimes, because Kenma understands a thing or two about loneliness.

It’s a warm summer night, and they’re sitting in a rooftop overlooking the town. There’re children running around, shouting in glee, and the murmur of street vendors selling their food and the sound of people laughing fills the air. It’s a festival. They’re watching the people bustling below them, the ghost has his hands gripping the ledge, legs swinging from the side of the building. There’s a strange look in his eyes as he watches the people at the festival.

“I don’t have much time left.” At that moment, fireworks begin in the distance. Just far enough that the thundering sound doesn’t hurt their ears, but close enough that the light brightens up their figures. Kenma turns to him. “Everyday, it gets harder and harder to see.”

The ghost’s face contorts in pain, and tears glisten in his eyes, falling down his face and landing nowhere. “I—I don’t want to die!” he shouts into the air, as the light from the fireworks passes right through his face. Kenma watches him wide-eyed, such pure, unfiltered pain, looking completely out of place in the boy’s – he’s just a boy – face. Kenma mewls, but the sound is drowned out by the thundering of the firework.

The last spark fizzles out and the ghost vanishes with it.

Something in Kenma hurts like it never has before.

-

For three he strays.

-

4

Kenma lives on a ship.

“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me!”

A pirate ship to be more precise.

He was living in some old, dusty town when the captain found him. He’s a short man, mostly inconspicuous, except for a certain sturdiness to his frame, and a faint smell of blood that follows him everywhere, like he’s been thoroughly coated in it for too long. But he gives Kenma fish occasionally, and a warm place to sleep, so Kenma doesn’t mind following him around, especially since the only thing that’s expected of him is to catch any stray mice in the hold of the ship.

“Alright, men! Furl the foresails and light the lanterns. It’ll be nightfall soon, make preparations.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kenma watches as the ship comes to life from his place by the captain’s feet, the crew talking and laughing as they climb the mast, and tie up the sails, check that all ropes are firmly tied, make sure every lamp is lit and securely placed. Soon, they’re done and head down to the crew’s quarters to open up a bottle of rum. Kenma crinkles his nose at it. It has a weird smell, and it always leaves everyone louder, but he admits he rather enjoys the merry atmosphere around the table, as the pirates share stories and laugh.

Eventually though, the captain gets up and grabs his hat that was dangerously close to the edge of the table. “Gentlemen, I’ll be retiring for the night.”

“Ah, captain, it’s still a bit early isn’t it?” Shimono says, turning to face him and nearly falling out of his seat.

The captain laughs and waves him off. “I’m feeling tired already. You know I’m not getting any younger, don’t you?” he says with a grin, putting his hat on. “Don’t stay up to late, you.”

He’s met with a chorus of slurred ayes and sneaks an unopened bottle on his way out. Kenma follows him out onto the deck and the cool night air. The captain breathes in deeply, and smiles. He takes a few steps forward toward the prow and places a hand on the watcher’s shoulder. “I’ll take over from here, Fukuda.”

The pirate seems surprised, stuttering, “Ah, there’s no need captain.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Go drink a little something with the boys.”

The pirate lights up and gets up. “Thank you, captain!”

The captain watches him go with a smile, and when he disappears into the belly of the ship, he takes his place, sitting down with an oil lantern beside him. He opens the bottle and takes a swig, sighing in satisfaction when he’s done. He pats the space beside him and smiles when Kenma curls up to his leg.

He runs his hand through Kenma’s fur and Kenma purrs in contentment. He looks up at the stars and smiles. “It’s a good life, isn’t it?”

It’s a rhetorical question, something meant to be whispered in the low hours of the night, when the only sounds you hear are the soft creaks of the wooden ship, and the waves softly lapping at the hull, but Kenma can’t help but mewl in response. It is a good life.

The sound of cannon fire and screaming wasn’t the best thing to wake up to, Kenma thinks. The door of the captain’s quarters is shut, making him enable to go outside to the deck, but he can see smoke somewhere near, through the windows.

He’s starting to panic, thinking he’ll end up dying of suffocation in the place he felt most comfortable in, when something crashes against the window, breaking it. He doesn’t waste any time jumping through it and landing outside. He ignores the bloody remains of the newest member of their crew, and looks around searching for the captain.

He winces, everything is too loud, and the ship is too crowded, full of strange men fighting their crew. He finds the source of the smoke right away on the other side of the ship, in the shape of a small fire that was quickly spreading.

“Men,” He hears the captain shout, and quickly turns, trying to find where his voice came from. He sees the captain fighting two enemies. He doesn’t recognize them, but he can tell from the fancy clothes that they aren’t the type that would get along with the crew from the Toboko. The captain parries one of the man’s swings, and stabs him in the side, continuing like nothing had happened. “It’s time to abandon ship.”

Immediately the crew turns somber and, without saying a word, they try to shake off any pursuers and move, some untying the jolly boats hanging on the side of the ship, while others cover their movements. The fire keeps spreading, looking absolutely monstrous now, and a few of the men begin retreating to the small boats. The captain moves swiftly from enemy to enemy, trying to cover their retreat.

Once they’re all safely aboard the boats, the captain stops, and looks around at his ship, watching the fire consume it, along with the dead bodies of the members of his crew that didn’t make it. He clenches his fist, grabs Kenma scaring him badly, and jumps ship.

They manage to get to some deserted island.

Kenma is cold, and tired, and wet, and he hates it. He walks just enough to get away from any lapping waves and plops himself down on the sand. From the corner of his eye, he sees the captain crawl in the sand and drop down beside him, turning around slowly to face the sky, with a painful grunt.

They lay on the beach for a long while, simply panting, until the captain finally moves, slowly sitting up. He watches the waves for a moment, nothing in sight except for a few pieces of driftwood. “Now what?”

Kenma is the one who gets up then. He can feel the captain’s eyes on him, but he ignores them and starts walking toward the wooded area of the island. He’s hungry, and there’s nothing for him there. He disappears into the trees and doesn’t look back. He has some hunting to do.

He comes back with a bird and two rodents. It’s not really his style. Usually catching so much food is too much effort, but he’s not alone this time. He comes back to see the captain sitting in the exact same spot, arms resting on his bended knees, looking out at the sea.

Kenma approaches him and drops his findings on the sand beside him. He sits expectantly. The captain jumps a bit in surprise at seeing him and lets out a hearty laugh. “You came back!” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. Any trace of mirth falls from his face and he continues, in a much more solemn whisper, “I lost my ship, my crew, my home, but at least I still have you, huh?” He smiles, patting Kenma’s head softly.

He stands up and stretches, sighing loudly, “Well, then—” He stops in the middle of his sentence, staring straight ahead at the horizon. Kenma turns to see what exactly he’s looking at and growls. A ship. There’s a ship. Looks like he’d gone hunting for nothing.

Beside him the captain takes off his coat and smirks. “Well, looks like it’s not over for us yet.”

5

Kenma hisses dangerously, body curved and ready to pounce.

He is surrounded by three young boys, all smiling cruelly. The one in the middle is holding a stick, and he takes a step closer to Kenma, laughing as he hisses again. The boy swings the stick again, and Kenma flinches, but the stick stops in midair, like it had hit something solid. The boy frowns and swings the stick again, to the same effect. He starts shaking the stick wildly but it stops every time, like it’s hitting an invisible barrier.

“What the—” the boy says, staring at the stick confusedly.

“There!” one of the other boys says, pointing at someone beside them. They all turn to find a small boy, silently watching the scene.

Immediately the boy with the stick snarls. “What are you doing here?”

The small boy remains silent, watching the scene in front of him unfold.

The bully’s face twists into a cruel smile. “Go away. There’s no place here for weirdos.”

The other two start laughing, but the boy remains unmoving. The bully turns back to Kenma and raises his arm again. “I can do what I want!” he yells and swings it down. Kenma hisses but this time, before the stick can make any contact, a huge wall of fire flies directly above the bullies’ heads, charring the tip of the stick.

The boys yell, and he drops the stick staring at the small boy, horrified. Kenma can see tears in his eyes, and they start backing away. “Whatever,” he yells, “nobody wants to be around freaks like you, anyway!” They then turn around and bolt, leaving Kenma alone with the boy.

The boy approaches him slowly, trying to make himself seem smaller. Kenma is grateful but he still hisses a bit and backs away. Once he puts weight on his hind leg, he winces in pain. The bullies must have broken something when they kicked him earlier.

The boy keeps walking toward him and stops at a respectful distance, sitting down on the ground and waiting. He pulls out a small cloth from his pocket and unwraps it to show a bunch of sardines. He places them on the ground in front of him, and watches Kenma expectantly.

Kenma watches the boy, but concludes that if he meant any harm he would have done it already. He limps his way over to the boy and starts eating the sardines. The boy waits until he’s finished and then scratches his ear. Kenma allows it, but tenses when he moves to pick him up. He paws at the boy’s arm, but the boy persists, cradling him gently in his arms, keeping his weight off of his bad leg.

The boy pats his head once more in a comforting manner and takes off.

It’s sundown when they finally arrive to the boy’s home. He lives in a big clearing in the woods, though it’s probably a temporary location, judging by all the caravans around. The boy clearly wasn’t very popular in the village, but as soon as he steps through the trees, he’s greeted by two smiling adults.

“Shouhei, you’re back already,” a woman says, smiling brightly at him, as she lowers a basket full of clothes, and moves toward him. She stops when she spots Kenma in his arms, and gasps. “Oh, you poor thing. What happened to you?”

She reaches into the basket and pulls out a towel, draping it over the little boy’s shoulder. “Go, go, go. Call me if you need any help.”

Shouhei nods and continues deeper into the clearance, nodding to greeting people. He stops in front of a caravan and nudges the door open with his shoulder. He steps inside and sets Kenma down on the soft carpet, turning around and reaching inside a drawer for some cloth. He wets the towel the woman had given him before sitting down in front of Kenma. He gently dabs Kenma’s wounds, cleaning away the blood, and carefully bandages Kenma’s leg. Once he’s done, he pats Kenma on the head.

This human is nice.

He places Kenma in front of a fire outside and gathers a bunch of little children to sit around him. It’s really not his ideal situation, but it’s comfortable and warm. In front of them, on the other side of the fire, stands Shouhei, waving his arms and hands in smooth, fluid motions as he controls the fire, making it take different shapes and dance.

Beside him, the children squeal in joy as whales fly over ships, a tiger morphs into a dragon, a little girl vanquishes a terrible monster, and Kenma feels more and more at ease.

“Oh, oh, can you tell us the story about the cat and the crow?” a little girl, who had been alternating between paying attention to the fire and trying to touch Kenma’s ears, asks with an excited tone to her voice.

Shouhei nods, and the small frogs he’d created before turn into a sharp cat, and a boisterous crow. Kenma watches the two dance around each other, always near but never quite touching, as they try to the best the other. Kenma thinks he rather likes this story.

Eventually the show ends, and Shouhei bows to his one remaining spectator, as adults come to pick up their sleeping children and carry them to bed. Shouhei pats Kenma on the head and smiles at him, before picking him up and carrying him towards his caravan to get a good night’s sleep.

Days pass, with Kenma following Shouhei around as he does his chores, and plays with the children, even joining in sometimes. It’s somewhat of a hassle, but he’s rewarded with pats and treats, so it doesn’t matter.

Once he’s fully healed, Shouhei carefully unwraps his leg, and runs his hand through Kenma’s fur with a smile. He leaves for the village to buy some food, and Kenma tags along. Apparently, they’re moving away again. Kenma waits outside the store, and follows him to the same place they’d met. Shouhei stops and kneels down, scratching Kenma’s ear. He gets up with one last pat to the head, and starts walking back to the clearance.

Kenma watches him go, until he disappears into the thicket of trees. He waits for a moment and then takes off after him.

He was starting to get a little bit sick of this town, either way.

6

There’s a nekomata following him around and Kenma is annoyed.

He was just trying to cross the goddamn forest in peace, when he was spotted by this loud, fair haired nekomata, who apparently had nothing better to do other than bother Kenma.

The worst part is that they’re calling out to him and snapping their fingers together in a poor imitation of a human. (Especially annoying since they could understand him, and speak to him in cat.)

Fed up with it, Kenma turns around. “Stop. Following. Me.”

The nekomata jumps in surprise, before a huge grin spreads across his face. “Hi, my name is Lev, nice to meet you! You’ve been to human settlements, right? Can you tell me about them? About humans?”

Kenma feels his soul cringe, and the beginning of a very, very painful headache start to form. He turns back around and starts walking faster.

“Wait, don’t go, kitty—Ah, I don’t even know your name,” the nekomata shouts, following just as quickly.

“Good, now leave me alone,” Kenma says.

“Aw, please don’t be like that. I just want to know more about humans. Please.”

Kenma arrives at the edge of the forest and stops. He turns around, making eye contact with Lev as he steps over the invisible boundary of the forest.

Lev gasps dramatically and watches him happily walk away. Kenma pretends he doesn’t notice the flattened ears, and the tucked tails, and trots away.

“Ok, but you’ve probably travelled a lot, haven’t you?”

Kenma huffs in exasperation. Every time he passes through the woods, this nekomata, Lev, somehow knows that he’s there, and follows him the whole way, pestering him for stories about humans. He’s contemplating whether the effort of going all the way around the forest is worth it, when Lev says something that catches his attention. “I’m jealous, humans are so cool!”

Kenma stops and looks back at him. “What makes you say that?”

Lev nearly trips not expecting Kenma to stop so suddenly, and stutters, “Ah, I mean, they can go to all kinds of places, and do all sorts of things.” He takes a deep breath and composes himself, continuing with a smile. “I want to know more about them.”

Kenma watches him for a moment, and turns back around, continuing on his way. “There’s really nothing special about them, you know.”

Lev gasps and follows him. “How can you say that? They’re so different from any other creatures.”

Kenma sighs and continues. “They’re really not that different. They’re just trying to make the most of the time they have, just like us.”

Lev considers this for a moment. “So you’re trying to make the most of the time you have?”

Kenma doesn’t hesitate. “Of course, I am.”

Lev grins. “And you choose to spend it with me. I’m so honored!”

Kenma narrows his eyes and growls, running across the short distance to the edge of the woods. He passes it and sits down, smugly licking his paw, before continuing at a much slower pace, ignoring Lev’s shouts.

He has come to tolerate Lev. Having some company as he crosses the forest is actually nice once in a while, and they even have somewhat pleasant conversations when Lev isn’t pestering him about humans.

“Please, tell me some stories about humans.”

Kenma sighs. Sadly, this isn’t one of those times. Thankfully he can see the stone steps that mark the edge of the forest straight ahead. He picks up his pace but is forced to abruptly stop, when Lev appears directly in front of him. There’s a grave air about him, and he gets on both of his knees, in front of Kenma bowing slightly.

“Please, I know it’s a hassle, and there are plenty of other things you’d rather be doing, but there are men ruining my forest, and I don’t have much time left here.”

Ah, there it is. The big problem they had both been trying their hardest to ignore. Kenma couldn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed, the big machines cutting down and flattening everything in their path. The forest would be dead soon, and any living creatures would have to face death, or try to find another place to live in. Seeing the normally cheerful nekomata pleading solemnly like that, Kenma feels his resolve break down.

It really is more trouble than it’s worth, but he figures that there would be no harm in telling a few stories, so he relents. They sit down making themselves comfortable, well, Kenma makes himself comfortable and Lev is nearly bouncing, sitting cross-legged, his two tails swishing wildly behind him. Kenma inhales, and starts talking, telling his stories. Stories about humans he’d encountered once, about humans he’d spent more time with, good humans, bad humans, humans that held entire galaxies in their eyes, and humans who were completely empty down to their core.

Kenma comes back every day after that to tell a few stories, and they sit in different patches of the forest. Under the shade of trees, by a stream, in the soft grass surrounded by flowers, just talking and listening. Lev is surprisingly quiet, only interrupting when he has a question about a particular place, or human invention. Kenma tells as many stories as he can remember though there are a few that he keeps to himself, like the one about a poor prince, or the one about a scared ghost. Lev always seems to enjoy them, and it becomes a treasured part of Kenma’s day.

Lev sighs loudly leaning back with his hands on the ground. “Wow, that pirate captain was so cool!” he says enthusiastically. Kenma hums in agreement, and they sit quietly, for a moment, the ever-nearing roar of machines, and the loud thump of falling trees, echoing around them.

“Ahhh, I wish I was a human,” Lev says, the most quiet Kenma had ever heard him.

They watch the forest die, and Kenma blinks wearily as Lev disappears beside him.

-

And for the last three…

-

7

This is probably the warmest Kenma has ever felt, a stark contrast to his state just a few hours prior, lying on the side of the road, as rain beat down on him, seeping through his skin, soaking his broken bones, courtesy of a passing cart, whose owner didn’t even bother to look at him as he drove off.

Now, though? Now he’s curled up on soft fabric, a sweet scent in the air, hearing the gentle cracks coming from the firewood, and feeling the warmth spread through his entire body, leaving him purring in contentment. He isn’t even injured anymore. Honestly, he could spend the rest of his life like this.

Wait. His face scrunches up. How is he not injured anymore?

Kenma groggily opens his eyes, blinking slowly as he takes in his surroundings. Where in the world is he? Apparently, he’s in a house somewhere, lying directly in front of a fireplace. To his left, he can see a large cabinet filled with jars of varying size and color, and to his right a big, (and probably really comfortable) armchair. He tries getting up, and confirms that he really is healed. He takes one step forward to leave the little bundle of clothes he was in and ends up jumping in surprise when a loud voice booms. “Ah, you’re awake!”

Kenma turns to find whoever just spoke, when he’s suddenly lifted into the air. He yowls, claws extending, trying to grab onto something, when he comes face to face with a grinning human. “Hello there!” he says.

Kenma finally finds something to scratch, and drags his nails over the man’s arms, hoping he’ll get the message.

“Ack, alright, alright, I’ll put you down.” The man lowers his arms, and lets Kenma onto the ground. He rubs his arms and laughs good-naturedly. “I see you’re fine already. I knew adding the skink bone would work wonders.”

Things click into place in Kenma’s brain. The weird jars, the scent of herbs permeating the place, the casual mention to animal parts. This man is a witch.

“My name is Tora,” he says, sticking his thumb into his chest. “and as you can probably tell, I’m a witch.”

Kenma watches him in slight curiosity. It’s true that Kenma hadn’t interacted with that many witches, but seeing one be this open and bright, still felt a bit out of place.

“And I’m gonna call you…” he continues, crossing his arms in thought. Suddenly he snaps his fingers and shouts, “Kabu!”

Kenma immediately narrows his eyes, any trace of curiosity completely gone, replaced with irritation and the desire to scratch him again.

“Well, Kabu, you woke up at the perfect time. I was just getting ready to leave,” he says, grabbing a nearby coat and heading for the door. He opens it, letting a cold breeze in and steps aside to let Kenma pass. “Let’s go.”

Kenma slowly walks toward the door, trying to see what’s outside. It looks like he’s still in the woods, though in a part he doesn’t recognize, and while it’s still dark out, there are already a few rays of sunshine lighting up parts of the sky, which means it’s probably near sunrise.

Tora closes the door behind him and starts walking. Kenma remains in place, watching him walk a bit confusedly. He didn’t wait for Kenma, and he isn’t looking back to see whether he’s following him or not, just blindly trusting that he will. Honestly, just who exactly is this man? Kenma takes a step forward, considering whether to go on his way, or to follow the strange witch, when Tora stops, turning around with a frown. “Hey, aren’t you coming?”

Kenma looks at the path behind him, and back at the man, and starts walking toward him. He did save his life, so if he wanted a little company wherever he was going, it’s the least Kenma could do.

Tora slams the door open, and exhales loudly. “Today’s going to be a great day,” he says, before he goes back inside and sits down behind a large table, full of bread.

It’s a bakery. He’s a baker.

Kenma is sitting near said table, simply watching, and thinking that this entire situation just can’t get any weirder. He was found by some loud witch who saved his life, and then woke up in the early hours of the morning to head to a nearby village and make lots of bread, and some sugary confections. Again, Kenma’s experience with witches is a bit limited, but he’s pretty sure this isn’t normal.

He’s broken out of his reverie as an old woman enters the bakery.

“Good morning,” she says, approaching the table, and stopping abruptly when she sees Kenma. “Oh! You have a cat now?”

Tora laughs. “Yes, I found him on the side of the road yesterday. He seemed a bit lost, so I took him in.”

“I see. It must be nice having some company around the shop now.”

“It is,” Tora answers, grabbing a bag Kenma had seen him prepare earlier. “It’s the usual, right?”

The old woman smiles, grabbing the bag and slipping a few coins into Tora’s hands. “Thank you, Tora dear. You always make such wonderful bread, you’re so talented.”

Tora smiles, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Thank you, Mori-san.” He catches Kenma’s eye and winks. “It’s just hard work, right Kabu?”

Right. Like Kenma hadn’t seen him use his magic to make a lot more bread at a much faster pace than normal bakers. Though he supposes using his magic like that and avoiding mistakes must be hard work in itself.

The old lady leaves, and the day passes by, a lot of people coming and going, all with varying degrees of comfort with Tora, but all of them genuinely happy to see him. Even though witches aren’t usually well accepted, Tora had managed to build himself a life there, in that small village in the middle of the woods.

When they go back home, Tora still doesn’t look back to see whether Kenma’s following him or not. In fact, as the days pass, he never looks back. Kenma still follows him though. He isn’t really sure why, but he figures that he doesn’t need to complicate it.

It’s a nice life.

8

War is the single most hellish thing Kenma had ever experienced.

The air is always filled with loud noises and the smell of blood and rotten flesh, and there’s always an ever consuming fire, no matter where he goes.

He finds peace at the edge of civilization. He also finds a man there, sitting in a tree trunk eating slowly off a small box. Kenma is too tired and hungry to run away unnecessarily, so he just stops, watching the man for any kind of danger. He tenses when the man notices him, and he sees empty eyes light up with a small sense of joy.

“Hey there,” he says, turning his body to face Kenma. He seems to sense Kenma’s unease because he pushes his hair back, revealing an eye that was previously hidden, and reaches for a small, unidentifiable fish, before extending it Kenma’s way. “Here, have some.”

Kenma is really too hungry to refuse, so he quickly closes the distance between them and wolfs down the food offered to him. The man smiles, and pats Kenma on the head. “Who would have known I’d find a cat all the way out here.”

A moment of quiet passes before they hear some leaves rustle. Immediately the man crouches down and reaches for his gun, pointing it at the foliage straight ahead. They hear a small gasp, and spot a small child in the middle of the leaves. The man lowers his weapon and smiles at the child. “Hello.”

The child is covered in dirt, bones jutting out in the places their clothes couldn’t cover. The man looks down at where he’d dropped his food and picks up what hadn’t fallen to the ground. He puts down his weapon and lowers his stance, approaching the child slowly, trying not to scare them. “Here, you can have this.”

The child takes a step back, and the man stops in his tracks still extending the food. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.” The child hesitates, but reaches to accept the box.

Suddenly there’s loud yelling, as three soldiers come out from the bushes, one of them grabbing the child.

“What the hell are you doing, Kuroo? This is one of them,” one of the men says, sneering at the child, struggling in a soldier’s hold.

The man, Kuroo, frowns, but keeps his voice cool. “They’re obviously not part of the military, not to mention they’re starving. I was just giving them some of my food.”

The man hums. “You know, helping our enemies, whether military or civilians constitutes an act of treason. You’ll need to be punished for this.”

Kuroo clenches his teeth in anger, and grinds out, “Fine, but let the child go.”

“That’s not going to happen.” The man grabs the child by the arm and nods in Kuroo’s direction, signaling for the soldiers to grab him.

“Hey, stop it. It was my mistake. Just let them go.”

The man ignores him. “Take him to one of the cells, he’ll be staying there for five days.”

The soldiers nod and begin dragging Kuroo away. Kenma sees panic overtake his features as he begins kicking and yelling. “Stop. They’re just a child, they’re just a child.”

Kenma follows the three, and a chill courses through his spine at the sound of a gunshot.

He manages to sneak into the military camp without being seen by anyone, and crawls around trying to find where they’d locked the man away. At the very back, he finds a big sturdy building, guarded closely by two soldiers. He walks around it, trying to find a way in, when he hears sobs. He hurries to a ground-level barred window, and sees Kuroo shaking, head placed on his hands, as sobs rake his body.

Kenma squeezes through the bars and jumps down to meet him. He walks over and gently paws at his leg. Kuroo takes one look at him and begins crying even harder. Kenma doesn’t resist when he picks him up and presses him close to his chest. “I just want to go home, I just want to go home, I just want to go home…”

Kenma feels his heart break, but can do nothing but nuzzle Kuroo’s face in the only way he has to comfort him.

After that, he unofficially became Kuroo’s companion, following around whenever he could. When Kuroo had to leave though, Kenma disappeared for a while, since he wasn’t very liked around the camp.

Kenma could see the life drain from Kuroo’s eyes as the days went on, but he always tried to put on a brave face and smile for Kenma. They’d curl up together at night, and Kuroo would tell stories about his home. He’d talk about his family, the shenanigans he got into with his friends, his dreams before he’d been drafted to serve in the war. He always goes quiet for a bit, before drawing Kenma closer and promising him, that they’d go home together.

It’s during one of his little walks while Kuroo’s gone, that it happens one day. He stops in his tracks as he spots Kuroo standing a few feet away, leaning against a tree. He’s a bit surprised to see him alone so close to the camp, when he notices the blood spilling from a wound on his stomach.

He races to Kuroo’s side and mewls in concern. Upon seeing him, Kuroo breaks out into a grin, and reaches for him. “Hey…” He falls face down on the ground, and groans painfully. He manages to turn around, with a lot of effort, to face the sky. Kenma stands beside him, in a panic, not knowing what to do. Kuroo looks at him, and opens his mouth, “I’m sorry,” he rasps out with a smile. “It looks like we’re not going home.”

Kenma starts looking around in a panic, trying to think of something he could do, when Kuroo’s hand lands gently on his head. He turns to Kuroo and sees him smile. “Thank you, for staying by my side.”

Kenma blinks slowly at Kuroo, watching his features soften as his hand slowly slides down Kenma’s back and lands on the ground beside him.

Kenma lowers himself, and lays down curling up to Kuroo’s chest, as the sound of explosions and yells echoes around them.

He lays his head on Kuroo’s chest and closes his eyes. If only they could have met under different circumstances.

Last

“Kenma, are you ready to go?”

He opens the door, and carefully closes it behind him, facing the boy in front of him. “Kuroo, you’re too loud.”

Kuroo grins, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. “Well, good morning to you too.”

Kenma frowns and starts walking. “Not everyone’s a morning person like you.”

Kuroo raises his eyebrows. “Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time gaming, you wouldn’t be so tired.”

Kenma can’t think on an answer to that, so he just shoots Kuroo a glare and takes his PSP out of his backpack. They’re silent during the small train ride, only talking when Kuroo asks a question about his latest game.

When they leave the train, Kuroo steers him the right way to their school, but they both suddenly freeze at a loud voice booming behind them. “Hey, good morning!”

They turn back to see Tora waving at them. Kenma mumbles a quick good morning and turns back to his console, intending to beat this level before arriving at school. Tora catches up to them, and starts a conversation with Kuroo about their opponents for the practice match they have later that day.

The three of them walk together like that for a few minutes before they’re interrupted by another loud voice. “Good morning!”

They’ve run into Lev at the crossing they had arrived at. Kenma’s annoyance at running into all the loud people on the way to school that morning was replaced by a small sense of satisfaction at Tora’s face when he sees Lev.

The next few minutes aren’t as peaceful as the ones before, but Kenma still manages to beat the level. He puts away his console, and looks up to see Fukunaga wave at them from across the street, with Yaku at his side. “Ah.”

They quickly cross the street where they’re warmly greeted by Yaku, before he turns to Lev, frowning. “Lev, you were being way too loud in the middle of the street. We could hear you voice before we even turned the corner.”

Lev raises his arms in a placating gesture. “I wasn’t the only one yelling! Yamamoto-san was being even louder than me!”

Tora laughs and crosses his arms. “Well, of course! That’s because I’m the true ace!”

Lev gasps indignantly, and Kuroo shakes his head. “That really doesn’t make it okay, Yamamoto.”

Kenma sighs at the racket his teammates make, and looks at Fukunaga, smiling slightly at his side. Kenma feels his own lips quirk. He supposes it is funny.

Eventually they do get on their way, and manage to arrive at the school gate without further incident where they find Inuoka and Shibayama just arriving too.

They say their good mornings, and Inuoka clenches his fist, smiling excitedly. “Let’s do our best today.”

Lev grins back and fist bumps him. “Of course.”

They turn to Shibayama and extend their fists waiting for him to join in, making him laugh as he fist bumps them too. “Yes.”

After the small exchange they start walking again and finally arrive at their club room, to find Kai already at the door smiling. He was the one charged with opening the door that day. “Good morning.”

A loud chorus of voices greet him back, and Kenma nods at him, smiling slightly at the chuckle he gives. Kai opens the door and steps aside to let everyone else in.

Kenma makes a beeline for his own locker and sighs. They really are a loud bunch, and they don’t exactly fit in together, but… He looks around, seeing each of his teammates chatting carefreely with a smile on their faces.

He smiles too.

-

… he stays.

-