Climbing the Nine Lives

The afternoon was quiet.

Only the faint ticking of a clock and the rustle of paper filled the room.

Hale sat alone at his desk in the teachers’ lounge, sleeves rolled up, a stack of lesson plans spread out before him.

The door opened, and Hiro stepped in, setting a bundle of documents on the table.

“Ah, Heiru-san… How is your first day going? Not too overwhelming, I hope?”

Hale looked toward the window.

“It's all right, I suppose,” he said quietly.

Hiro sat down across from him. “And Koori-san?”

Hale’s gaze drifted to the courtyard outside.

“At first I was worried about what might happen when I wasn’t around. In her other classes, you know? But from what I’ve heard… it seems to be going well.”

He smiled faintly.

“I think most of her classmates like her… at least, the human ones.”

Hiro followed his gaze.

“Well. That’s a start.”

“Maybe,” Hale murmured, then sighed. “Honestly, I think she’s adjusting to all this far better than I am.”

“What do you mean?” Hiro asked curiously.

“I recognize the halls, the rooms, even the old lockers. Everything’s like it used to be... and yet it all feels… wrong.”

“The world’s changed,” Hiro said, his tone serious. “And if we want to survive in it, we have to change too.”

A gust of wind drifted in through the open window.

“Tell me, Hiro… do you believe humans and Nekos could truly live side by side, without one suppressing the other?”

Hiro folded his arms, thinking for a moment.

“You always find the hardest questions, Heiru-san,” he said with a weary smile. “Maybe it’s just my impression, but… I don’t think any of them are aiming for equality. And unless the world can be turned back, all we can do is endure what’s left.”

Hale nodded slowly, glancing down at the faintly glowing mark on his wrist.

Turn back the world... to do that, I'd have to reach Nekogami first.

For a moment, only the wind rustled, and the distant echo of students outside.

“Anyway, Heiru-san,” Hiro said, standing up. “I’ve got my next class. We’ll talk later.”

“Yeah… see you.”

When Hale was alone again, he went to the sink, letting the water run over his hands before splashing some onto his face.

The droplets cooled his skin, but not the knot in his chest.

“What am I even doing here…” he murmured to his reflection. "Maybe I should just..."

Before he could finish, he heard something from outside the open window.

Muffled voices, somewhere below.

“Leave me alone, nya!”

Hale leaned out carefully and looked down.

Two older students, both human, probably in their final year.

And between them, pressed against the wall, was a small Neko girl with lynx-like ear tufts and a short, fluffy tail.

Her bag lay in the dust and her uniform was stained, like she’d been shoved to the ground.

“What’s wrong?” sneered one of the boys. “Go on, use your magic, kitty! That’s what you Nekos love to do, isn’t it? Put us in our place!”

She pressed her lips together, ears flattened.

“I-I didn’t do anything to you!” she stammered.

Hale cursed under his breath, pushed away from the window, and ran.

He stormed down the stairs and outside; the voices grew sharper until he saw them ahead.

“What’s going on here!?”

They turned toward him and froze.

“A–Amiteji-sensei!?” The taller boy stepped back, bowing hastily. “We… we were just talking to her.”

“That didn’t look like talking to me.” Hale pointed at the girl, who was clutching the wall, trembling.

The second boy clenched his fists, his voice cold.

“You’re a human, Sensei. Why are you even protecting her?”

“She’s one of them!” the other spat. “They’re the reason we lost everything. The reason we have to live like this.”

Hale said nothing, but his throat felt dry.

He looked at the two boys, the anger, the fear, the exhaustion in their eyes. 

Then at the girl: small, shaking, tears in her eyes.

If I walk away now… I’m no better than they are.

He took a slow breath. 

Then he stepped forward, placing himself between the boys and the girl.

“And you think it changes anything if you act the same way?” he said quietly, but his voice carried weight. “You don’t lay hands on someone weaker. Not on anyone, human or Neko.”

He met their eyes, steady and unyielding.

“Leave. Think about what I said to you. If you do, I might forget I saw this.”

They stared at him in disbelief, then finally bowed stiffly, muttering a shaky “Sumimasen, Sensei,” before retreating down the path.

As he watched them go, he could already feel their resentment trailing after him like a shadow.

Why do I have the feeling this will come back to bite me…

He exhaled, then turned back to the girl, still standing there, head bowed, motionless.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded weakly. “Y-yes…”

He picked up her bag and handed it to her. “What’s your name?”

“Kuroha… Kuroha Nyarin (黒羽ニャ凛).”

“I remember you,” Hale said. “You’re in Class 1-B, right? Second row, far left?”

She blinked, surprised, then nodded.

“Do they… do that often?” Hale asked quietly, glancing in the direction the boys had gone.

She looked up for a moment, then back down, and nodded again.

“They know I’m just a Jakumei and can’t use magic yet. That’s why they pick on me. But…”, her voice cracked, “...even if I were a Retsumei, I’d never hurt anyone. I swear, Sensei!”

Hale’s thoughts raced as he handed her a tissue.

“It’s alright, Kuroha-san. I believe you. But tell me, what exactly is a Jakumei?”

Her golden eyes blinked at him, surprised, as if she couldn’t quite believe the question.

“Sensei… you really don’t know about the Kyūmei Kaisō (九命階層)? I mean, I know it doesn’t concern humans, but I thought...”

Kyūmei Kaisō… What in the world is that supposed to be?

Hale frowned, then smiled gently.

“Forgive me, Kuroha-san. I really don’t know much about Neko society. Would you… explain it to me?”

Her eyes lit up, a spark of pride, joy, and surprise all at once.

“Of course, Sensei!”

***

Their footsteps echoed down the hallway, carried by the faint chime of the afternoon bell, until they stopped before an empty classroom.

A large banner hung across the wall, covered in elegant brushstrokes of black ink.

Kuroha cleared her throat, set her bag down, and pointed proudly at it.

“This,” she said with a small flick of her tail, “is the Kyūmei Kaisō, the Hierarchy of the Nine Lives. It’s one of the most important structures in Neko society.”

Hale stepped closer, his eyes following the characters on the banner.

Kyūmei Kaisō (九命階層) - Hierarchy of the Nine Lives

1st Rank — Shinmei        (神命)

2nd Rank — Kumei         (空命)

3rd Rank — Reimei         (霊命)

4th Rank — Domei          (怒命)

5th Rank — Mumei          (夢命)

6th Rank — Inmei            (陰命)

7th Rank — Retsumei     (烈命)

8th Rank — Kakusei        (覚醒)

9th Rank — Jakumei        (若命)

“Every Neko climbs the same path. How far one ascends through the Nine Lives depends on their spirit, talent, and the strength of their soul,” Kuroha explained, her eyes brightened with cautious enthusiasm.

“I’m still a Jakumei and can’t use magic yet. Most ascend to Kakusei by fourteen or fifteen, but I’m sixteen and still waiting...”

She paused, then forced a small, brave smile.

“But maybe, if I work hard and prove myself, I can still make it one day!”

Hale crossed his arms, studying the diagram.

“So the magic grows stronger the higher the rank?”

Kuroha nodded seriously.

“Yes. But about ninety percent of us are somewhere between the first and fifth levels. The higher ones…” she lowered her voice, “…are almost unreachable for most of us. There are only a handful of Kumei in the entire country.”

Hale narrowed his eyes, following the list upward.

“And how many Shinmei are there?”

Kuroha’s expression turned reverent.

“There’s only one Shinmei... Nekogami, our great leader.”

Nekogami.

Hale swallowed hard. Memories flickered at the edge of his mind. 

The moment he had freed her. Her smile. Her mocking words. The pain. The lie.

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

Then his eyes fell on another poster beside the banner, a colorful chart filled with cat breeds, each tied to a magical element.

“And… can you tell me what this one means?” he asked.

Kuroha’s ears perked up, happy to explain.

“Yes, Sensei! This chart shows the different schools of magic, based on each breed’s genetic resonance.”

“Genetic… resonance?” Hale murmured.

He scanned the list until one entry caught his eye:

British Shorthair — Felis catus — Resonance: Gravitational Magic

“Gravitational magic…” he repeated quietly.

Suddenly, the memory returned, that crushing force that had pinned him to the floor days ago, when the Neko named Nekozawa used it on him.

She was a British Shorthair too…

He turned slowly back to Kuroha.

“So… your breed... decides the type of magic you can use..., and your rank in the Kyūmei Kaisō decides how powerful it is?”

Kuroha beamed, her fangs glinting as she smiled.

“Exactly, Sensei!”

Before Hale could reply, the school bell rang, a clear, metallic tone that sliced through the air.

He blinked, looked up at the clock, and froze.

“Oh crap, my class!”

The door slid open, and students began pouring in, laughing, talking, the shuffle of bags and chairs filling the air.

Within seconds, the room came alive.

Hale stumbled back, dodging a student who nearly ran into him.

“Uh, sorry! Wrong class!”

A few giggles followed him as he turned toward the door.

He glanced back at Kuroha.

“Thank you for your help, Kuroha-san. That was… really enlightening.”

She blinked, then smiled, warm and proud.

“You’re welcome, Sensei.”

Hale returned the smile, already halfway to the hall.

“See you soon. And… stay strong, alright?”

“Yes, Amiteji-sensei,” she said softly, eyes glimmering. “I was... happy to help you.”

He vanished into the hum of the corridor, while she stood there watching him go, her bag clutched to her chest.

Then she looked up once more at the banner, and whispered:

“One day…”