The Unluckiest Lucky Cat

Luck is supposed to be my whole thing.

I’m a maneki-neko, after all. A beckoning cat. We’re supposed to bring fortune. Money. Happiness. Safe travels. That’s literally our brand.

But, unfortunately, I don’t bring good luck. I bring the opposite.

Cups explode when I touch them. Lanterns go out. Coins vanish from pockets. Carrots turn soggy. Rain happens only on me. I once sneezed and made a shrine roof collapse on the left side only.

Mama says it’s “just an imbalance.” 

Papa says it’s “a unique charm.” 

Grandma says I should “stop touching things until I’m older.”

None of these help. Even other catgirls know about it and hide away from me. They call me “Tsuitenai”. Yes, I have a nickname in cat hood. My bad luck is well-known.

So every weekend, I stay inside. Because I’m too scared to break the world again. But this weekend, things got worse, before it got better.

On Sunday morning, Mama sent me out to buy tofu. Simple errand, right? Tofu is soft, safe, and respectful. What could go wrong?

I walked down the village path hugging my coin pouch tightly so nothing could escape. Everything was fine. Until I passed a vegetable stand. A cloud appeared, only over me. And it rained… only on me.

And the stand’s tent ripped open from the rain hitting the exact weakest point of the fabric, right above the radishes. The radishes rolled down the street like fleeing soldiers. The shopkeeper screamed. I dropped my coin pouch. The coins scattered. A stray dog grabbed one and ran. Everybody stared.

And I said very quietly, ‘Oh no.’

Then I ran too. All the way to the forest. All the way to the shrine. Because bad luck follows me, but at least this shrine is used to disasters.

I crept toward the offering hall, hiding behind bushes so I wouldn’t jinx any birds. Then I saw Sensei sitting on the steps with his hair loose, sleeves drooping, and a broom lying beside him.

He wasn’t crying. But he wasn’t smiling either. He looked… unlucky. Like someone who accidentally broke his own heart. It was a strange sight because Sensei is so pretty that even trees should bow politely when he walks by. He doesn’t look like someone sad things stick to.

I hid behind the pillar. To protect him from me, obviously, and whispered, ‘Sensei?’

He didn’t hear me. Because at that exact moment… the broom rolled down the steps on its own. Straight into the pond.

SPLASH.

Sensei stared at the pond then whispered, ‘…why.’

I stepped out slowly.

‘Sensei?’ I tried again.

He turned. And he actually smiled a little.

‘Meow? What’re you doing here?’

I twisted my sleeves nervously. ‘I… um… am taking a walk.’

It was a terrible lie. I was soaked like a soggy towel under the sunny day.

Sensei raised a brow. ‘You look like you fought a rain cloud.’

‘I did,’ I said honestly.

He blinked. ‘Oh.’

I bowed very low. Forehead to ground. 

‘I’m sorry for bringing bad luck to the shrine, Sensei.’

He knelt, alarmed. ‘You didn’t bring… Meow, that’s not…’

‘Sensei,’ I whispered, trembling, ‘I ruined the radishes. And coins escaped. And I scared tofu.’

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened again. He sighed and sat beside me.

‘Okay,’ he said gently. ‘Tell me everything.’

So I told him every soggy detail. The radishes. The runaway coin. The dog. The cloud that hates me. When I was done, Sensei was quiet for a long moment. I thought he was going to laugh. But he didn’t.

He said softly, ‘Meow… you know, I used to feel the same way.’

I looked up sharply. ‘You bring bad luck too?’

He gave a strange sad but warm smile.

‘Some people think so,’ he murmured. ‘I ran away from a lot of things. And things went wrong because of me. Or maybe around me. I don’t know. Sometimes… we blame ourselves for things we can’t control.’

I blinked slowly, understanding nothing, but feeling everything.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. ‘I thought I was cursed too, for a long time.’

‘You?’ I whispered.

He nodded. ‘Me.’

A small warmth bloomed in my chest.

Sensei… cursed? Sensei… unlucky? Impossible. However, not being alone anymore made me feel a bit better.

But if someone so beautiful could be unlucky… Maybe unlucky people can still be… good?

We sat quietly for a while. I felt warm inside, even though the rain cloud above me insisted on ruining the mood.

CRASH!

The donation box tipped over. Coins spilled everywhere. Sensei jolted. ‘What in the—’

He looked at me. I froze. He froze.

I raised my paws, ‘…I didn’t touch it.’

Another coin rolled to my foot.

Sensei squinted. ‘Did your luck just… knock over the offering box?’

‘I’m sorry…!’ I slowly started to cry. ‘I’ll leave! I’ll walk backwards! I’ll crawl so gravity doesn’t notice me…’

‘No no no!’ Sensei picked me up like a cat. Well, I am one. 

‘It’s okay. Seriously. It’s fine.’ He placed me down carefully.

‘Sensei, the shrine is allergic to me,’ I sobbed.

‘Meow, I promise it’s not.’

I hiccuped. A very unlucky hiccup. Because the lantern above us flickered, then fell right toward Sensei’s head. I screamed. He didn’t. Because he calmly caught the lantern mid-air with one hand while sipping his tea with the other. He didn’t even spill a drop.

I stared. Sensei stared. We both stared at the lantern.

Then he said, ‘Okay… that one might be your luck.’

And then, to my absolute horror, he laughed. Not meanly and mockingly, but genuinely. A soft, warm, tired laugh that made my stomach feel like warm milk.

‘Sensei… you’re not mad?’

‘Mad?’ He smiled, setting the lantern down. ‘Meow, I survived eight children in a convenience store. I can survive you.’

My eyes watered. He patted my head lightly. ‘Come on. Help me fix the mess.’

Cleaning with bad luck is dangerous. Every time I picked something up, something else fell down. Coins hid under leaves. Leaves stuck to my hair. A frog appeared from nowhere and judged us aggressively. But Sensei just hummed and worked alongside me like this was normal. Like my bad luck wasn’t a disaster. Like it was okay.

After the hundredth coin rolled away and sensei chased it dramatically, panting, he flopped down beside me on the steps.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘your luck isn’t entirely bad.’

I stared at him like he was a ratio that announced the fake news.

‘Sensei… I caused a coin landslide.’

‘True,’ he said. ‘But look.’

He pointed. ‘The fallen lantern had revealed a tiny crack in the wooden beam, one that might’ve caused a real accident later. The donation box had spilled near the edge of the steps, revealing a nest of small insects nibbling the wood.’

‘Your luck shakes things loose,’ he murmured. ‘It doesn’t ruin them. It… reveals what needs help.’

I stared, trying to understand. ‘Huh…?’

‘It shows what’s weak. What needs fixing. What’s hiding.’ He tapped his chest. ‘Sometimes inside people too.’

My eyes widened. My mind couldn’t understand right away, but my heart did. I was crying before I knew it.

‘I… show what’s broken?’ 

He smiled gently. ‘Yes. And that’s good. Because we can fix those things.’

My throat felt weird. ‘Sensei… does that mean… I’m not cursed?’ I said in between tears.

‘If you are,’ he said, ‘then so am I.’

He patted the top my head until I calmed down. After I settled, I looked at him. Not a quick glance like I usually do, fearing I might cast bad luck on who I stared at for long.

Sensei is androgynous, pretty, magical, fragile-looking but his eyes hold something heavier. Something lonely. Like someone who’s been cracked in places and patched himself up with beautiful smiles. 

Maybe I wasn’t the only unlucky one.

‘Sensei,’ I whispered, ‘can we… test something?’

‘Test what?’

‘If my bad luck affects… people I care about.’

He thought about it, then nodded.

‘Okay. How do we test it?’

‘Hold my paw.’

He looked stunned.

I squeezed my eyes shut. ‘I won’t be offended if you say no…’

He took my paw gently. He felt warm. His aura was steady and ready.

‘There,’ he said quietly. ‘Now what?’

‘Now we walk,’ I said. ‘And if the shrine explodes, it’s my fault.’

‘The shrine is not going to explode.’

‘Probably.’

‘Meow…’

I tugged him forward. So we walked. One step. Two steps. Three. A bird pooped directly in front of us, but not on us. Sensei looked at the white splat, then at me.

‘Hm,’ he said. ‘Seems neutral.’

We walked again. Four steps. Five steps. A branch fell, but behind us.

Sensei stared again. ‘Interesting.’

Six steps. A squirrel dropped an acorn. BONK. Right onto Sensei’s head.

I shrieked. ‘SEE?! BAD LUCK!!’

He rubbed his head. ‘It’s fine! You didn’t—’

‘SENSEI YOU WERE ATTACKED!’

‘Meow, it’s a squirrel…’

‘THIS IS AN ASSASSINATION!!’

He laughed so hard I was scared he’d choke. Then he said something that made my chest squeeze.

‘Meow… I don’t think you make bad things happen. I think you make hidden things show up. Even small ones.’

‘Like… falling acorns?’

‘Exactly.’

‘And cracks?’

‘Yep.’

‘And emotions?’

He looked startled for a moment. ‘…Yes,’ he whispered. ‘Even those.’

We sat at the edge of the pond after our experiment. Sensei’s reflection was rippled. He looked elegant and messy at the same time.

‘Sensei?’

‘Mm?’

‘Why did you think you were cursed?’

He sighed heavily.

‘I made mistakes,’ he murmured. ‘People were disappointed. I disappointed myself. And every time something went wrong, I thought… maybe I was the cause.’

I clutched my knees. ‘Like me.’

He smiled gently. ‘Like you.’

‘But… you’re not cursed,’ I insisted.

‘Then maybe neither are you.’

My eyes widened. Something warm, something bright, something gentle, bloomed inside my chest. Is this adoration? Is this love?

‘Sensei…’

‘Yes?’

‘I want to believe that.’

He brushed my hair behind my ear. ‘Then let’s believe it together.’

As the sun reached the highest peak, Sensei stood and held out his hand to help me up. My bad luck flared. I stepped on a frog. The frog croaked angrily. I squeaked. Sensei lifted me up anyway.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s walk you home before you accidentally summon a thunderstorm.’

‘I’ve done that before,’ I admitted.

‘I believe it,’ he sighed.

As we walked back through the forest, my luck stayed. It was mostly calm. A leaf landed in my hair. A beetle tripped on a rock. A mushroom grew two inches instantly. A crow dropped a pebble next to us instead of on us. Sensei considered this a victory.

At my home gate, I looked up at him.

‘Sensei?’

‘Hm?’

‘If I have bad luck… will you still be my teacher?’

‘Always,’ he said.

‘Even if I break the school?’

‘We can fix it.’

‘Even if I break you?’

He knelt down so we were eye-level. His voice was very soft.

‘Meow… you didn’t break me today.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ he smiled. ‘You helped me notice parts of myself I usually avoid.’

My eyes stung. But not from bad luck. From something warm. I hugged him tightly. He stiffened in surprise, then he accepted my hug slowly and carefully.

‘Sensei?’ I whispered.

‘Yes?’

‘Maybe we’re not cursed.’

‘Maybe,’ he said softly, ‘we’re just the kind of people who help others see what’s broken… so it can be fixed.’

That made me really very 100% happy. I didn’t feel alone. The first true-lucky moment of my life.

That night, in my journal for Maria, I drew:

A shrine. A maneki-neko. A beautiful teacher. And a lantern that almost fell, but didn’t.

And I wrote:

‘Today, my bad luck didn’t ruin everything. It helped Sensei. And he helped me. Maybe we’re the same kind of unlucky. And maybe that’s lucky.’