Chapter Text
Sakusa Kiyoomi has never experienced a minor inconvenience. In his life, there have only ever been train wrecks. It all starts when he’s four years old and forced to meet Komori Motoya. Kiyoomi was a quiet child. He preferred finding isolation to shadowing his parents at their fancy meetings and dinners. However, one afternoon someone all but shoves their body next to his on a small chair and says, “My name’s Motoya and I’m your older cousin. Do you wanna meet my dog?” Before Kiyoomi can even muster a negative response, an approximately fifty pound tank with ears is barreling into Kiyoomi’s stomach. Despite the breath being knocked out of him, Kiyoomi finds himself smiling, a tentative hand reaching toward the animal.
“Hello,” Kiyoomi says quietly, with something akin to reverence.
“This is Ponyo and she’s a Shikoku.”
Kiyoomi blinks in confusion, but Motoya just barrels on, arms swooping through the air as he details the different dog breeds he knows about. Kiyoomi continues gently stroking the dog’s head and ears, not quite paying attention to the creature, too young to be ashamed at how absorbed he is in what his cousin is saying.
And then very suddenly, there is a sharp pain in his fingers and he feels something warm and wet fall onto his pant leg. Motoya screams. The dog bolts away. And Kiyoomi becomes very familiar with the scent of antiseptic.
It continues with a stray he finds in the backyard one day. The dog certainly didn’t have Ponyo’s pedigree, but she was sweet and her tail wagged every time she saw Kiyoomi. She ate the menial scraps he could manage to sneak from the dinner table with glee and she rested quietly while Kiyoomi read books about dog breeds.
One night, scraps wrapped neatly in a napkin, Kiyoomi hears a blood curdling shriek followed by a bone chilling whimper. He drops the food and bolts outside, only to be intercepted by his father. The man scoops Kiyoomi into his arms and says nothing as he carries Kiyoomi to his room. He does not flinch at the kicking or screaming or crying, but simply places Kiyoomi on his bed and closes the door behind him with an ironic, “Stay.”
Kiyoomi doesn’t see the dog the next day, nor the next week, or the following. But three weeks later, a purebred Maltese puppy with a red ribbon tied into a bow is waiting for him when he wakes up.
Kiyoomi isn’t happy. He misses the stray (a yellow Lab mix he’d dubbed Lemon.) But Kiyoomi is only 5, and curiosity wins out over the betrayal of whatever happened to Lemon. The new dog is supposedly named Sumire, but Kiyoomi calls her Lime just to antagonize his mother.
Kiyoomi manages to avoid misfortune for approximately three months. But when he comes home from school and Lime doesn’t greet him at the door, he knows something is wrong. When he finds her in the yard, the ribbon around her neck is missing and she’s eating grass.
His parents don’t listen when he tells them something is wrong. “She’ll eat when she’s hungry, Kiyoomi,” his father says. “Sometimes dogs vomit, Kiyoomi. They’re filthy creatures,” his mother says.
Lime isn’t there when Kiyoomi comes home two days later. His mother states the dog got out and ran away, which Kiyoomi instinctively knows is a lie. He’s old enough to be aware of when things are wrong, even if he doesn’t quite know why, and there had been something very wrong with Lime.
Kiyoomi cries for two weeks after Lime’s passing. His parents try to get him a replacement dog but he refuses to eat until they let the idea go. Instead he finds himself visiting Motoya and swapping books about animals. He immerses himself in a way that surpasses curiosity and sits much closer to obsession.
At age 10, Kiyoomi is ready to try again. His obsession has paid off and he feels confident in his abilities as a pet owner this time around. Kiyoomi sits down with his parents and lays out his plan. He agrees to get another purebred dog on the condition that he be allowed to bring the dog to the vet two times a year: once for a regular check up and the other for a sick visit. It’s the closest thing to preventative care he’ll get with them so he doesn’t needle for more when they agree.
Two weeks later, a 6 month old Japanese Chin comes home with them named Kerria. Kiyoomi calls her Melon. Things go well for the first 6 months. Kiyoomi is able to convince his parents to spay the dog and he is strict about her having a real collar. Melon is more of a lounger than the other dogs. She’d rather sleep on top of Kiyoomi’s cold feet while he did his school work or added more animal medicine books to his ever growing collection. She is not a fan of Motoya’s new Hokkaido Inu named Howl.
And then, 6 months after dutifully meeting Kiyoomi at the door after school, one day Melon isn’t there. A feeling of unease spreads throughout Kiyoomi as he first casually and then frantically searches the house for the dog. One of the groundskeepers catches him about to topple over the stone fence with a frown.
“Master Kiyoomi what on earth has gotten into you?”
“Have you seen Melon? I can’t find her anywhere!”
The woman’s eyes soften and Kiyoomi wants to throw up.
“Master Kiyoomi, did no one tell you? Melon ran outside when the door was opened by one of the maids. She got into an accident and she didn’t make it. I’m so sorry.”
The words hit Kiyoomi like a brick to the head. He feels like the world is caving in on him. He’s covered in a cold sweat, a tremble already starting in his hands.
He doesn’t know when he starts running, but suddenly he’s back in his room with tears running down his face. He breaks into heaving sobs when he sees Melon’s fluffy bed and her favorite squeaky toy in the corner. He’s on the phone with Motoya before he’s aware that he’s dialing. All that comes out are hiccups and sobs, but fifteen minutes later his cousin walks through the door and simply sits with him.
Two years later Kiyoomi tries his hand at cats. His parents bring home a Persian named Tsubaki who Kiyoomi calls Peaches. He instantly bonds with her— cream colored, long haired, with amber eyes that remind him pleasantly of Lemon. Maybe it’s her resting bitch face, maybe it’s the way she’s quiet except for the rumbling purrs she lets out as she kneads Kiyoomi’s chest, or maybe it’s the fact that she abhors his parents. Regardless, Kiyoomi finds immediately that he adores her.
Kiyoomi gets nine months with Peaches. He’s diligent about picking up her toys and putting away anything that could hurt her around the house. But Kiyoomi and Komori both have to go out of town for nearly a week for volleyball club and he’s forced to trust the caretakers with Peaches.
“She’s going to be just fine, Master Kiyoomi,” one of the gardeners says to him on his way out. “We both eagerly await your return. Safe travels.”
The caretakers were not the issue. Kiyoomi’s mother received a floral arrangement from his father as an anniversary gift. The vase contains lilies and Peaches has always been just a little too curious for her own good.
When Kiyoomi returns from his out of town trip, Peaches is having a difficult time breathing. He rushes her to the local emergency room where he finds out her kidneys are completely shot. He doesn’t bother trying to hospitalize her when he finds out her survival rate is less than 5%. Instead he’s led to a quiet room with dimmed lights where he sits with Peaches and alternates between apologizing and crying. She still offers him a gentler version of her usual purr and kneads his legs. Motoya is silent when Kiyoomi calls him for a ride home.
Three years later, Kiyoomi is in his first year of high school. Motoya forwards him an advertisement about an older Shiba Inu who needs to be rehomed due to children. Kiyoomi pauses. He’s been toying with the idea of another pet for a few months now. He sets up an appointment to meet with the dog’s owners.
When Kiyoomi arrives he’s immediately greeted by a black and tan Shiba Inu standing on her hind legs at the gate. Her eyes are chocolate brown and she’s got some gray around her muzzle. He finds out her name is Coconut and decides to take her home that same day.
Coconut takes to the Sakusa mansion like a fish to water—spending her days patrolling the grounds, making friends with the groundskeepers, and chasing the various wildlife. She makes immediate friends with Motoya’s Kai Ken named Ashitaka, the two bounding around the grounds like litter mates despite their age gap.
Coconut’s misfortune is something spread thin—a calamity built on small abnormalities that build and break and build again until they are a mountain. One full year after adopting Coconut, Kiyoomi finds her unwilling to go for her morning walk. He schedules an appointment with his regular vet and has radiographs performed.
Coconut’s report comes back with osteosarcomas throughout her hind legs. Kiyoomi sits in the office for a long time, stroking his dog’s back and thinking. The vet—Dr Sakamoto—checks in on him with a resigned face.
“You don’t have to make a decision today. Go home and think on it. I’ll send you with some pain medication to make it easier on her.”
“Is that fair of me? To not be ready to let her go even though I know she’s hurting?”
The man offers him a gentle smile. “You have a good heart, Kiyoomi.”
Kiyoomi chuckles without feeling. “Yeah, and I have terrible luck with animals.”
“All of your pets have been lucky to have had you as their caregiver. They aren’t meant to be here forever, Kiyoomi. That’s what makes their lives so beautiful and so precious. Go home and spend the night with her. Let her sleep on your bed. Give her all the treats in the world. Make her breakfast alongside yours tomorrow. And then come back here when you’re ready.”
Kiyoomi wavers. “And what if I’m never ready?”
Dr Sakamoto claps him on the shoulder. “That’s not the type of person you are.”
So Kiyoomi does as he’s instructed. He makes doubles of both dinner and breakfast for Coconut. He massages her legs gently and takes her on a small walk. He helps her into and out of his bed and brushes her as she drifts off. It’s peaceful, the way she has no idea what tomorrow holds for her.
Motoya comes inside with Kiyoomi this time. They both give Coconut lots of attention and love as she’s put to sleep. They both cry. On the way out, Dr Sakamoto catches Kiyoomi’s watery gaze and simply nods.
Four months later, Kiyoomi finds himself back in the same office with a resume and determination burning in his eyes. Dr Sakamoto simply chuckles and asks Kiyoomi when he would like to start.
The first few months are difficult. Kiyoomi has so much energy and knowledge and a desire to help, but like everyone else, he has to start at the bottom. So instead of assisting with surgeries and attending to the hospitalized patients, Kiyoomi spends his days fielding calls from frazzled owners and organizing paper charts.
With the permission of Dr Sakamoto—who Kiyoomi finds out has been the sole veterinarian of the practice for thirty years—Kiyoomi works on converting the paper trail to digital documents. He spends his days calling over different technicians to ask them to decipher their own handwriting and laughing when sometimes they can’t.
Slowly Kiyoomi graduates from being a receptionist to being an assistant. He now gets to run labs and package samples, to fill medications and to walk hospitalized patients. It’s not perfect but it’s a start.
He meets crazy owners and smarmy sales representatives. He sees 4 week old puppies immediately after bagging a euthanized senior. He learns more than he ever imagined possible and he absorbs it like a sponge. One day Dr Sakamoto calls him over. It’s been a few months since Kiyoomi graduated to full technician work.
“I think you should pursue an accelerated degree in high school. Finish early. Then go to med school. I’ll write you recommendations. You’re built for this work, Kiyoomi. We can always use people like you.”
“And being young and attractive certainly won’t hurt,” one of the senior technicians teases as she walks by. Kiyoomi flushes red.
“I don’t know what my parents will say.”
“Does their opinion matter?” Dr Sakamoto asks earnestly.
Kiyoomi watches reels of pets flash behind his eyes. He sees them all, from Lemon to Coconut, and then he remembers how they died. He looks at the vet and shakes his head. “It doesn’t. I’ll submit my paperwork on Monday. Thank you for giving me this opportunity. “
The older man simply smiles and claps a hand on Kiyoomi’s shoulder before walking into his next appointment.
That’s how Kiyoomi finds himself graduating high school early and waving goodbye to volleyball. It’s how he finds himself elbow deep in practicals and theses, only finding relief in his weekly meet ups with Motoya. Coincidentally, his cousin also decided to pursue veterinary medicine, however-
“Accelerated? I have no desire to be gray at twenty. Is that a gray hair on your head?”
It wasn’t. Kiyoomi checked. Twice. He even swallowed his pride and asked his roommate to check. The same roommate who now calls him Silver Fox.
Kiyoomi is in the middle of his internal medicine rotation when he finds out that Dr Sakamoto is sick. He makes time to visit the man in the hospital and discusses everything and nothing with him. He was a quiet soul, someone Kiyoomi could sit in silence with and feel no tension.
Kiyoomi is bringing in his mail nine months later when he receives the call. He robotically picks out the only black suit he has and spends twenty minutes with a tutorial on how to tie a tie on repeat because he realizes he’s blanked out every time he gets to the end. Almost all of his old coworkers are at the funeral.
They’re all so proud of Kiyoomi. An older woman that Kiyoomi had never met motions him over after the ceremony.
“My husband was very fond of you, Kiyoomi. We were never able to have children. But when you came in with your dog and you asked all the right questions in his mind, he was sold. Thank you, for being the son he was never able to have. And thank you for keeping him company these last few months. You’re a sweet boy, Kiyoomi. You’re going to do great things some day.”
Kiyoomi goes home and cries. Four days later, he finally finds it in himself to go through the ever growing pile of mail on his entry table. An official hospital board letter. He’d passed his internal medicine boards. And he can’t help but feel the news means nothing at all. He says as much on his call to Motoya.
“You’re an idiot, Kiyo. You badass, little freak genius! You passed your fucking boards at 22! That’s unheard of. You’re a legend. God, I want to be you when I grow up. Except I really don’t because I don’t envy your gray hair and wrinkles. And you’re significantly less fun than I am. And-,”
Kiyoomi hangs up on him. But he can’t stop the smile that stretches his face.
Kiyoomi immediately dives into more specialties. He spends nine months interning in emergency, one year in orthopedic surgery, one year in behavioral medicine, six months in exotics, and another six in a feline-only practice.
And then he drives to Dr Sakamoto’s old clinic and hands Mrs Sakamoto a down payment on the clinic. He spends two hours discussing his plans to revitalize the place. Her eyes are wet but her smile is brilliant and Kiyoomi’s breath is knocked out of him with the strength of her hug.
Kiyoomi spends the first year building a client base. He offers comprehensive medicine and surgeries at shelter pricing, because what was coming from wealth good for if not helping others? He makes house calls. He runs vaccine clinics once a month from 8 am to 8 pm. He hires the world’s best receptionist in the entire world and two technicians that he would die for. He pays his staff speciality rates and offers them bonuses often because they work hard and they deserve it. He enforces mandatory vacations throughout the year for all staff members to help avoid burnout.
By the beginning of the second year he finally graduates from “the kid that replaced Sakamoto” to Dr Sakusa. The clinic is busy enough that he needs to hire more vets.
Motoya waltzes into the office in cut off jeans and an old Itachiyama volleyball club tee holding an iced coffee and no resume.
“Get out,” Kiyoomi says flatly.
Motoya laughs and says, “Come on, Kiyo.”
“I’m serious. But you obviously aren’t. Come back when you’re ready to treat this like a real job. We don’t do nepotism here.”
Instead, Sakusa hires Sachiro Hirugami: fresh out of vet school and a little rough around the edges. But he’s friendly and the clients love him and Kiyoomi knows that everyone was new once. Plus, he speaks English fluently and he has a way with the small, aggressive animals that no one will touch with a ten foot pole. Two weeks later, Motoya comes in again, this time in a full suit and tie, resume double spaced and on card stock. Kiyoomi grills him during the interview just to be an asshole and by the glare Motoya gives him, he’s aware of it.
But Motoya is related to Kiyoomi, so while he may be unconventional, he’s dedicated to his work. He stays late without complaint and handles the over the top clients with a genuine smile. He does not throw fits when he gets covered in some sort of bodily fluid or when they are short staffed and he must be a technician, a receptionist, and a doctor all at the same time. Kiyoomi has never received one complaint about his cousin, not one, and it only gets under his skin because clients have had more than a handful of bad things to say about Kiyoomi himself. Because Motoya is doing absurdly well, Kiyoomi chooses to overlook the flirtatious behavior he exhibits around two specific clients. He ignores the frequent personal food deliveries and the calls that are decidedly not medical. He does not begrudge his cousin when he begins to ask for more time off for weekend trips or has emergencies that he has to attend to. After all, there’s a reason Kiyoomi hired two more vets and not just one.
The practice blossoms in a way that Kiyoomi had never felt qualified to hope for and only ever dreamed of. There are ups and downs, as with any business, but overall, Kiyoomi feels proud.
And then, three-quarters of the way through his second year in practice, Kiyoomi receives a frantic call from Motoya at 3:11 am.