Shuta’s anger began to resurface. “Excuse me, doctor. Were you listening? I’ve been fired from my job because your cat tore up my documents. You’re acting like it has nothing to do with you. How are you going to take responsibility for this?”
“Responsibility? I don’t know what on earth you mean. Are you saying you want to return to that sweatshop-like company?”
“Huh?”
Is that what I want? If he returned, would he be able to start over at that office? Wouldn’t it just be the same thing all over again, as Kijima had said? He couldn’t tell his parents what had happened. How could he, when he had, just yesterday, said to them that there was nothing to worry about? Shuta stared darkly at his clenched fists in his lap.
“I don’t want to go back. At this point, I don’t care where I work. Please, just help me find a job.”
“I completely understand,” said the doctor. “Okay, we’ll prescribe you a cat.” The doctor turned around and called out toward the curtains. “Chitose, can you bring me the cat?”
The nurse appeared with the pet carrier. “Dr. Nikké, are you sure he’s the right person for this?” she asked a little skeptically.
“Yes, yes. It’s all good,” the doctor said. “You worry too much, Chitose.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she replied brusquely before positioning the carrier on the desk and leaving.
The balance of power between the nurse and doctor seemed quite equal; if anything, the nurse might hold more authority, Shuta observed.
Seeing some concern in Shuta’s eyes, the doctor gave a strained laugh. “She’s always scolding me for being unreliable. She’s generally kind. Runs hot and cold, as they say.”
“I see.”
The doctor seemed friendly, mild-mannered, and Shuta trusted him. No hidden skeletons in his closet. Is he married? Maybe he’s dating that classic beauty of a nurse. With such thoughts on his mind, his eyes wandered to the carrier perched on the desk. Shuta blinked.
“This is the same one, isn’t it?”
The gray-furred, golden-eyed Bee looked up at him from the carrier.
“Correct. You’ve had no adverse reactions so far, so let’s run with the same cat for a while and see how it goes. I’ll give you a ten-day supply this time. If she doesn’t suit you, please contact me even if you’re not done with the prescription.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes?”
“So…I’m taking the same cat?” asked Shuta.
The doctor peered curiously through the door of the carrier.
“Do you want a bigger cat?”
“Um, no, this one’s fine.”
“Well, take care, then. Oh! Don’t forget to pick up the rest of your prescription from reception before you leave.”
Shuta felt he had been driven out of the examination room all over again. At the reception window, the nurse awaited him with her surly look.
“Here are the supplies. You’ll find a leaflet with instructions inside. Please make sure to read it carefully.”
Along with a package of food and kitty litter, inside the bag was a piece of corrugated cardboard. Shuta looked up at the nurse, a question forming in his gaze. Is the cardboard meant for scratching?
“If that scratching pad breaks or the cat doesn’t seem to like it, please replace it for her.”
“I have to buy it myself?”
There was something else in the bag—a small orange collar about the size of Shuta’s wrist. And a length of some kind of cord. A leash, perhaps. Everything was brand-new.
“Um, is this—”
“Please read the instruction leaflet.”
“Well, this—”
“The leaflet?”
“Okay.”
Pet carrier and paper bag in hand, Shuta left the clinic. He took the leaflet out of the bag, wondering what it might say this time.
Name: Bee. Female. Estimated to be 8 years old. Mixed breed. Feed moderate amounts of cat food in the morning and at night. Water bowl must always be full. Clean kitty litter as needed. Please make sure she is wearing her collar and leash when taking her outside. Please let her scratch frequently to relieve stress. Avoid leaving her alone for long periods of time, as it may make her emotionally unstable. That’s all.
“Taking her outside.” Shuta wondered what it meant. Did it mean he had to walk her on a leash like a dog? He did not want to do that. Even just putting a collar on her seemed cruel.
As he stepped out of the building and glanced up from the alleyway, he noticed the sky had already turned dark.
“Bee,” Shuta called out to the cat.
She was looking back at him. The weight in his arm was becoming familiar.
