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Fukuzawa woke up far earlier than most. A part of it is he preferred early mornings to late nights, so sometimes he’d get up early to get into a working mindset. Another part (which is not his age, no matter what Ranpo insists) was because of the stray cat who had taken a liking to him a while ago.
In a sleepy stupor, the man made his way into the kitchen. He filled the kettle with water and set it, gently, on the stove to boil. After that, he set one of his tea cups on the counter. The small tea box was opened and he rifled through until he found the teabag he was looking for.
It was a foreign black tea one of Ranpo’s friends had gotten for him. According to the detective, it was amusing watching the friend fumble over their words when he told them he didn’t drink tea, just coffee. He still took it, of course — free things were free.
While the tea bag soaked, Fukuzawa started the coffeemaker for Ranpo. The man was a light sleeper who needed a strict routine, which happened to start with the click of the machine in the morning. Once, Fukuzawa forgot to start it. That day, Ranpo was so stressed he could barely speak.
After a few minutes the tea bag was removed from the cup and thrown into the bin. Fukuzawa carried the cup to the back door, a sliding glass door, and stared outside. In the back of his mind, he thought of the cat who awoke with him every morning to meow for food.
It hadn’t been around for a while. The fact worried the man. Every time he thought of the feline, he would hope for its safety as well. He brought the cup to his mouth and drank.
“Mrooow.”
Almost choking in disbelief, Fukuzawa swallowed and lowered his cup to look at the porch. Standing there was a cream-and-white cat demanding to be fed. It noticed him staring and standing frozen to the spot.
“Meoooow.”
Faster than any other time, a portion of cat food in a dish was brought to the porch. Fukuzawa crouched and sat the dish down. The cat received a few strokes when it came closer. It only sniffed at the food before running away.
“Was it not to your liking?” Fukuzawa asked the air. It was the same kind he fed the cat with before. Maybe it had developed a finer taste during its travels?
He absentmindedly brushed his fingers over the small wildflowers that grew in the cracks of the porch. Just when all was thought to be lost, a small noise caught his attention.
“Mi! Mi!”
His gaze flicked up to a small kitten being carried to him by the cat. It was mostly white, the only traces of cream being on its ears and front paws.
The cat strutted over to him and laid the baby by him. The cat food became the target of a mother’s hunger seconds later. The man couldn’t help but smile and calmly pet along her spine.
“So this is why you were away for so long.” As if she could understand him, she momentarily paused eating to look at him and blink slowly.
The young feline bounded over to the flowers he was previously touching. It must have thought they posed a threat, because it pounced and clawed at the stems.
Fukuzawa said nothing. He pushed against the kitten’s belly and moved it away. It latched onto his hand with its baby claws. The blunt of its teeth was felt when he wiggled his hand in an attempt to provoke the thing.
The kitten was maneuvered onto its back, but Fukuzawa didn’t give up on his attacks. A tiny, high-pitched growl made itself out of the small thing. He let up on its body and the baby scampered to hide behind its mother.
“You’re rather cute when you’re angry,” Fukuzawa chuckled.
The mother cat finished eating before rubbing up against his ankles. He gave her more attention in return. She flopped down at his feet and before he could pet her stomach, the kitten was already latched onto her in order to feed.
“I must leave to feed my own,” he said to the cat. “Until we meet again.”
As he walked inside, she meowed loudly, as if bidding him farewell in her own tongue.