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There’s a kind of loneliness—an emptiness that feels bigger than your body—that only a strange house can make sprout in cracks of you that you thought had healed. As Suga looks around this new townhouse, his chest caves in just a little bit. For a house to be a home, it has to be lived in. And for something to be lived in, it has to feel safe. Consistent.
The past few years have been anything but. Instead, it’s been hopping between friend’s couches (anybody who will take him, really) and cashing in on every favor. He’s reached into his pockets for favors like digging for loose change or old receipts.
But here’s a new start. There’s a yard out back where he can put a raised garden bed and grow herbs. There’s a creek not too far away. There are neighbors to befriend, something he’s missed out on—meeting people without having to worry about the possible transactional nature of friendships, walking the fine line between the two flaws of being a burden and not asking for help.
And, of course, there are his buddies. Asahi and Noya go way back, all the way to high school. When Tsukki moved out to his own apartment that was closer to his museum job, a spot opened up, and Asahi and Noya eagerly welcomed him into their home provided that Suga had a job lined up. Suga’s working at a preschool now. Go figure.
So what if this house smells faintly of mold, and the water takes approximately 10 minutes to get hot, and the poorly constructed cat door at the front flaps open and shut every time a mild gust comes through their alley?
Suga is almost a little afraid to call this place a home yet. It’s only been a week since he’s moved in, and he learned a long time ago that looking at a good thing too closely is a good way to scare it away.
Whap. Whap. Whap. Suga sighs. “Damn flimsy cat door.”
“Mrow.”
Suga wrinkles his nose. “Asahi? Is that you?”
“Mrow!”
“Wow, you’re really good at--”
Uh oh.
He looks down to find an orange-creamsicle cat headbutting his shin hello. This cat’s small, small enough for Suga to scoop up with one arm, not that he would try to do that to a feral animal even though it tempts him for a second.
It looks up expectantly at him with shining eyes.
“Excuse me, I don’t think you live here.”
The cat yips back in response and starts prowling the kitchen as if to say, Now I do.
“What, you looking for something?”
The cat yowled. Yes, I want to know where my chef is and why you are here in his place.
Suga pads over to the fridge, the cat close behind. After fumbling around in the fridge door, he hands the cat some strips of deli meat. “One piece. As a treat.”
Suga crouches near the kitty and gently pets its head and neck. It has no problems cozying up to him, leaning into his hand with a meow. It would be almost cute, if he weren’t allergic to cats.
“Is that a cat?” In the doorway stands a starry-eyed Asahi, cupping his mouth with his hands as his entire being vibrates in excitement. “Is that our new friend?”
Suga opens his mouth to answer but a seismic sneeze comes out instead.
“Meow!” The cat snatches the rest of the turkey Suga had in his hand and bolts.
“Noooooo!” Asahi yell-sobs after the cat’s retreating form. “We love you!”
The next twenty minutes sound like an avalanche because Suga simply cannot stop sneezing.
“I-” sneeze “think we could do a simple curry” sneeze , “tonight,” he manages to get out.
Noya gives him a squinty side-eye. “What’s up with you?”
Asahi, who is poring over a fashion magazine, flicks back his hair absentmindedly. “A cat came in. Suga’s mildly allergic.”
“Just mildly?” Noya’s question elicits another sneeze from Suga.
“Yes!” Suga beams.
“Hey, that’s three sneezes! You’re going to fall in love soon!”
“Maybe I should, like, figure out how to have a job first,” Suga mutters, but Noya laughs at his own joking reminder of the superstition, and hesitantly the other two join him.
“What are you doing here?” Suga heard some rustling in the kitchen at two in the morning and now finds himself blinking quickly in the light of the kitchen. Yes, he was up on Pinterest looking at different crafts for his preschoolers after feeling lonely and sad. No, he was not going to at any time soon make Pinterest mom cupcakes, no matter how many of those recipes he saw.
A cat blinks back at him from where it’s standing on the counter. The cat is back. Of course it is, Suga fed it.
It clearly isn’t feral, with how friendly it’s being, but it doesn’t seem to belong to anybody either. If it at one point had a collar, it doesn’t anymore.
Suga rubs his eyes. “Do you want to stay?”
The cat stares straight through to his soul, like it’s saying, I know what your deepest insecurity is. And also, I channel divine powers and know the secret to the universe. It’s catnip.
“Stop looking at me like that, you freeloader.” As soon as it’s out of his mouth, Suga feels sourness rise in his heart unbidden. He’s the freeloader. Taking advantage of his kind and generous friends is the only thing he’s ever known how to do, and that’s why he’s nothing without them. He’s just the guy who can’t keep a job, the lazy roommate who’s up in odd hours of the night staring at his computer screen, or going out and drinking, or getting into relationships he shouldn’t get into, hoping it’ll bring him happiness when they never do. And he knows this and every night he does it again. And then he turns around and disappoints the people who are trying to help him get better.
The cat walks across the counter and gently bumps into Suga’s chest. He sighs. He’ll give it a pet and pretend that everything’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.
As purrs vibrate against his chest, he can’t help but feel like maybe the cat understands. Maybe somebody out there understands.
Suga has taken to calling the cat “little sir.” The cat comes and goes as he pleases, but Suga’s started to think of him as maybe his own? Every time it leaves through the cat door, Suga’s resolve to not get attached to somebody else’s outdoor cat grows a little weaker. He’s sure the cat belongs to someone. Cats don’t look that well-fed without having a human. But some little part of him wants him to be that human. He’s started stocking cat food and Benadryl in the pantry just for Little Sir and he rejoices just a little bit every time he hears that demanding meow. Little Sir comes around twice a week now and just sits next to him as he’s doing whatever.
This particular day, Suga is sitting on the kitchen floor finger painting a birthday card for one of his preschoolers. His name is Hina, and he’s the most excited three-year-old Suga has ever met. Hina has really taken a shine to Suga, following him around all the time during playtime and even trying to part his curly hair the same way (to no avail). Suga makes sure to give Hina the good parts of the trail mix at snack time, even though he’s not supposed to play favorites. Suga gets out of bed every day repeating to himself like a mantra how disappointed Hina would be if he weren’t there, and that’s what gets him to work.
Suga’s putting the finishing touches on the sunflower on the front of the card when a cat yowls and barrels straight into him.
“Little Sir!” Suga laughs. “I missed you!” It’s maybe kind of weird, but Suga has started to see Little Sir’s visits as random blessings, good things that happen to him to remind him that there’s something regular to look forward to.
Suga pets Little Sir’s tiny baby head with a grin. “Wait, let me get my Benadryl.”
On the way to the cabinet, Suga notices out of the corner of his eye that the card now has tiny paw print smudges all over it. He decides to keep it that way. Little Sir is Suga’s good luck charm, and he doesn’t mind sharing a bit of that luck with Hina.
Though seasons turn slowly, they nevertheless do. Suga almost doesn’t notice it. He can’t pinpoint the first time he sees a leaf turn yellow. Maybe they all turn brilliant colors at night when everyone is sleeping, because they’re too shy to be the first one to change. Maybe they turn yellow like dominoes.
Suga wraps up more tightly in his blanket. He’s on the couch in his living room. Some worm in the back of his mind knows that this could end, might end, will probably end. This whole life that is beautiful and full of love will one day end. Suga manages to be okay with that.
Little Sir’s in Suga’s lap, which can’t be comfortable because Suga is currently tilting his entire body left and right, and there are three yelling guys all on this one couch.
“Goddammit!” Asahi curses as he falls off Rainbow Road yet again.
Noya makes a ppppflt sound at Asahi’s misfortune. “Haha, loser.”
“I thought Noya would be nicer to me today,” Asahi says, almost sounding hurt.
“Both of you suck,” Suga retorts as he crosses that sweet, sweet finish line.
He looks at his friends fondly, remembering how they showed up when he needed him to. The vibrant neon from the television lights up their faces just enough that he can see them as if suspended in pure joy. He missed this. He missed being able to feel present, to feel connected to the world and other people. He’d been floating around in this mist for so long, going through the motions and fucking up every good thing he had.
For a moment, Suga just stares, trying to record the memory like a photograph and yet knowing he will one day forget it. Asahi and Noya were patient with him when he needed kindness, and tough when he needed a push in the right direction.
“You good, Suga?” Asahi looks over at him with a hint of concern, but as always, never so strong of a hint that it makes Suga feel scrutinized.
Suga nods, and he means it.
He thinks about the titles he’s been given. Disownee at a Young Age. Ex-Boyfriend is a title he has claimed many times now. His most recent notch on that one led him to his next title, courtesy of rent he could no longer pay: Evictee. Dropout. Self-Medicator. But, now, to his right sits a worksheet from his therapist, and on it he’s also listed Friend . Preschool Teacher. And now Pet Owner.
In his lap, Little Sir is sleeping.
Is there such a thing as housewarming anniversaries? If not, Suga is making it a thing. He’s invited a lot of the friends who have helped him over the past two years, and hell, even his boss Ukai and his husband Takeda. His stomach still pole vaults every time he answers the door but deep down he wants to think that he’s giving his friends what they wanted, improvement. He even got Asahi to help with the decor.
The kitchen and living room are bursting with chatter. Suga has always been good at making friends; it’s the best trait that helps him get out of messes. But tonight it means he invited a lot of people, enough for it to feel like a big high school reunion. With Tanaka’s crazy laugh and Tsukki’s ever-derisive (but somehow affectionate) tch s, he slips into familiarity.
Everyone in his family is here, save one. Little Sir hasn’t been seen in a few days, and Suga doubts he’ll come home with how loud it is right now. He’d finally given the cat its dang shots and a collar with his address on it. After a year of hanging around him and his dumb friends, Little Sir deserves an accessory, as a treat.
Suga sits on the couch laughing at Noya and Tanaka yelling at each other over a ping pong match. When the doorbell rings again, Suga is surprised. He thought he’d accounted for everyone. He puts down his mock tail—he doesn’t think he’ll let himself drink again, ever.
“Oh!” Suga’s eyes widen when he opens the door. “Hello!”
In the doorway stands a broad-shouldered man with dark hair and eyes. His police officer uniform fits him snugly around the chest and his badge shines brightly, reflecting the party behind Suga.
“I’m sorry officer, is there a problem? I can tell everyone to be quieter,” Suga squeaks.
“Ah, right.” The man in the doorway rubs his neck awkwardly and grins, not unkindly. “Sorry, I just got off of work and didn’t think to change into regular clothing. You’re not in trouble. I’m just here because of my cat, Hunter.”
“Your cat..?”
“Yeah. Orange. Looks like Puss in Boots. Small boy.”
Suga pauses, bewildered. “Do you want me to help you post flyers?”
“Does this ring a bell? He’s very talkative and really likes deli meat. Ham is his favorite.”
“You mean Little Sir? My cat?”
The man laughs. “This is terrible. Of course Hunter would do something like that. He’s an outdoor cat and I was wondering why he wasn’t coming home as often but was still getting fatter. No wonder. He’s been scamming us for double the meals, the rascal.”
“Oh, um!” Suga says intelligently. This man looks very nice but he can’t stop his mind from yelling I stole someone’s cat?!
“How long have you been helping my little guy?”
“Uh, about a year. We call him Little Sir around here.”
“Little Sir, huh. What a delicate name.” The man winks. “Oh, and my name’s Daichi.”
“Sugawara Koushi,” Suga manages to say between heart spasms.
The two of them stare awkwardly at each other. There isn’t quite a manual for what to do when your cat is actually a double agent.
“He came home with a collar with your address on it, which is why I showed up.” Daichi chews his lip. “Sorry, is that creepy?”
Suga nudges the door open more widely with his foot. “Do you want to come in?”
Daichi smiles. “I’d like that.”
Epilogue
“Wow, look at this!”
“Shut up, Koushi,” Daichi says gruffly from the other room, without any bite. “Why are you acting like you haven’t been here before?”
Suga spins around the living room, draped in a throw that he’s wearing as a shawl. “Excuse me, but if you wouldn’t mind, I’m being happy.”
Daichi peeks his head around the corner, and Suga feels his heart jump in his chest. There he is. His boy with a golden heart.
“Meow,” says Little Hunter. Oh, and Daichi is there too. That doesn’t hurt at all.
After that first party, Suga invited Daichi to their next potluck. And then they kept having potlucks (“Oh, your door looks a little squeaky, I should come to the next potluck with my WD-40.” “What’s that?”). Many late night conversations (“Little Hunter is sleeping on me. I can’t possibly leave”), an awkward confession (“Are you sure?”), and a whole lot of arguing about the cat later (“He was mine first!” “But he clearly likes me better.”), and now Suga has another home.
This time, the new house doesn’t feel strange. It doesn’t feel empty. He feels Daichi in every corner of it, and a place could never be lonely if Daichi were there.
“Welcome home.” Suga feels strong arms wrap around him. He can’t wait to unpack.