Work Text:
“Arima, no.”
Akira sighed, staring down the big lump of stubborn that was half in, half on top of, her favourite purse. He gazed back at her unblinkingly. This was, what, the third time this week Arima had pulled this trick? She was absolutely POSITIVE she had hidden her purse in a drawer this time, too…
“Mow.”
Arima seemed to be issuing some kind of kitty decree. Akira sighed again (even more heavily…why wasn’t this day over yet?) and nudged Arima with the toe of her boot.
“You aren’t coming home with me. Attacking my purse hasn’t won you any points with me, either.”
She muttered, continuously nudging Arima (he was such a pretty cat, but SUCH A LOAF),
“C’mon, Arima. Seriously, I’ll stop visiting the shelter at this rate. You won’t even be able to smell Kaneki anymore.”
Arima’s nose crinkled and he sneezed. He stretched, slow and elegant (even with his back legs still trapped in her bag), then wandered off to go hide under a bed or something.
“Ugh, Kaneki is going to want to sleep in this now.”
She said to herself, eyeing the mass of fur all over her purse,
“I’m gonna have to leave it on the bed if I want cuddles.”
“WOAH! Miss, Miss, is that a LION!?”
Excited toddler #72 screamed in Akira’s ear. Her eye twitched, but she managed to smile gently at the boy.
“Nope, Amon is a forest cat. They’re reeeeeeaaaaalllllyyyy big!”
She exclaimed, amused despite herself at the kid’s exuberance.
“He’s as big as a WHOLE FOREST?”
The kid asked, whirling on Amon who, true to his “all children are angels” attitude, didn’t even twitch. In fact, Akira was pretty sure he looked pleased (what a suck up).
“Sure, whatever floats your boat.”
She muttered under her breath, watching as the little boy scooped Amon up (though “up” was being generous…Amon was practically the size of this kid) and twirled him in a circle. Amon chirred, somehow being crazy enough to find sailing through the air pleasant, and Akira shook her head.
Off to the side, Touka stifled a laugh. She supposed another family would be trying to adopt Amon today. Too bad he wouldn’t willingly go with them.
The Shinohara family was visiting again. They didn’t ever say much when they came around these days. They’d step in the door, take off their shoes, and make a beeline for the closest couch. Soon, Juuzou would join them, the kids would smile (the tiniest thing), and Mrs. Shinohara would bury her face in his fur.
Touka watched from the doorway, a bittersweet tilt to her lips. Whether they adopted Juuzou or not, he was definitely a member of their family.
Maybe she could give them clearance to take him to the hospital? She had heard therapy animals could be good for coma patients…
As a kitten, Amon hadn’t been easy to care for. He’d been sick by the time they stole him away from Father on the streets. Nobody had thought he would make it, a kitten that had been raised on meat instead of milk, and so (not unkindly) they had given him to their newest member to care for.
Akira had been too inexperienced to handle the cats with a decent chance of survival. Hinami helped her out as often as she could, but Akira still thought she’d been given Amon just to watch him die. Perhaps if she was somebody else, Akira would’ve let that be the end of it.
However, she was a Mado. Mados were determined. They were dedicated. They were obsessive perfectionists.
She wasn’t ready to let her first charge die.
Akira worked double shifts, triple shifts, late nights…anything to keep an eye on the scraggly ball of fur that she had been asked to care for. Weeks went by with variable results – some nights the fear that the kitten would slip away was strong enough to paralyze her. But finally, FINALLY, Amon was healthy enough to walk around on his own.
And then he was healthy enough to run.
Run away from her.
During the rest of his kittenhood, Akira was something of a helicopter parent. Amon had a bad temper and a worse penchant to get into trouble. He was defensive over the other cats in the shelter to the point of fighting any and everything that tried to get near them.
Worse, he would pull the most ridiculous protective stunts. He would fish a kitten out of a half-frozen pond, winding up at the vet himself. He would try to rescue another cat from the roof and get stuck. God, when he eventually warmed up to Akira he started trying to FEED her (so…many…mice).
It took a long time for him to grow into himself. Too big ears became tufted and fit his massive body. He got fluffier and fluffier. He became more even-tempered, more affectionate (the first time he’d nuzzled her of his own accord, Akira has secretly cried).
It was a rewarding experience.
When Akira started at this shelter, she knew that she loved cats. She wanted to help raise them, keep them safe, make sure they were happy. But she didn’t know that she loved them like children or friends.
Amon was her first…friend.
He was her favourite.
Then, another impossible project was dropped in her lap. A mysterious street cat, potentially the victim of experimentation, who was missing his other half. Kaneki was lonely, affectionate and terrified in turns, and couldn’t bare to be around loud noises, angry people, any kind of intimidation…
He feared the other cats.
He was terrified of Touka for the longest time and even Hinami couldn’t get near him.
Akira though, was patient. Patient and expressionless and…(kind, that’s what Touka had told her. “You’re kind, that’s why I’m giving him to you. Because you can go slow and wait years for him to trust you. Because you have that kind of kindness in you.”)
When Kaneki first nuzzled her of his own accord, Akira didn’t even keep her tears a secret.
He was her…child.
Another favourite.