Cats and Flowers

“Nyaa~”

It didn’t work.

“Pspsps!”

Yuto, crouching in the street under the evening sun, was persistently trying to attract a ginger stray cat standing in front of him. But it was no use. The cat was reluctant and backed away in fear. However, Yuto persisted, trying to gain its trust so he could stroke the fluffy fur that lay before him.

He patted his knees, and held out his hand, palm up, as a sign of trust and non-violence toward the animal that was making his eyes light up.

If there was something Yuto really liked, it was cats. He loved them. He adored them more than anything else.

They were the little fluffy creatures capable of stirring a faint but genuine smile across his face, piercing part of his shell and revealing the true color behind it.

Under his shirt, hanging from one of his trouser loops was a cat-shaped keychain. Another hung from his bag.

The stray cat ran away, annoyed by this forceful human trying to trick it into giving free cuddles without getting anything in return. Life is hard for stray cats. Their keep has to be earned somehow.

Yuto’s smile faded as the cat disappeared.

“I’ll be back! One way or another, I will earn those belly rubs!”

He walked to his apartment, passed through the door, and collapsed to his knees once it was shut. A long sigh left him, his lungs emptied as much as they could be.

With no energy left in his body, he crawled from the entrance to his bedroom, the silence broken only by his clothes rubbing against the parquet floor.

He was living alone, having left the family nest as soon as he entered university. But he had nevertheless managed to take flight... well, almost. It would have looked better if he hadn’t been crawling like some monster taken straight out of a horror movie every time he came back from a theater performance.

He entered his bedroom, clean and very tidy. On every piece of furniture—the bookshelf, the desk, the carpet, the wardrobe, the small coffee table—cats were present, whether in the form of posters, a mug or photos.

But his obsession was the most visible on his large bed. As if the keychains, the joy of seeing one, and the desire to pet every cat he encountered weren’t enough, his pillow was a large cat plushie, accompanied by some normal-sized ones and smaller ones scattered here and there.

There was nothing childish in that when you truly liked something. Some people had large libraries filled with mangas and figurines of their favorite characters everywhere in their bedroom, even when they were old. For Yuto, the passion was the same—only the object differed.

He climbed onto his bed as if it were Mount Everest, having trouble scaling it, but he managed and rested on the mattress, facing the ceiling, lost in thought.

“I hope she liked the performance. She was already gone when it was over…” he murmured before sleep struck him, heavy as a rock.

~~~¤¤¤~~~

Roses were red. Violets were blue. But for Sumire, neither the color of a flower nor its shape mattered at all, making it hard for her to choose a favorite one. She liked all flowers – except the ones that smelled really bad, but no one could blame her for that.

Their scent and beauty were at their peak on this warm spring morning. Dewdrops beaded on the petals and sparkled as the pale sun reflected off them.

On her way to college, Sumire stopped at a deserted place where a bed of magnificent yellow flowers had been planted around a tree. She crouched down and picked one, slowly bringing it to her nose to gently saturate her nostrils. Well... gently was rather an understatement.

As soon as the flower hit her nose, she sniffed passionately as if trying to absorb every last trace of its scent. Being allergic to pollen would have been pure hell—an almost guaranteed trip straight to the hospital.

She couldn’t stop. With each breath, her eyes shone brighter, contrasting with the rest of her face, which wasn’t nearly as cheerful.

“Yozora? Is everything okay?” a feminine voice asked a few meters behind her.

Sumire looked like a certain creature from a very famous film—not holding a ring nor obsessed with one, but instead consumed by a flower. That was the sight presented to the person standing behind her.

“Sorry for being late, Yozora. Let’s go to class now.”

“Should I whack her head with a racket to make her forget?” Sumire thought, her eyes darting around without her head moving, a tinge of panic rising in them.

She froze. Not knowing what else to do, she went with the first solution that came to her mind to hide the flower—and her obsession.

She gobbled it up in an instant.

Nothing more. Nothing less. It was simply hidden in her mouth instead of being dropped. Sometimes, panic took over reason.

She jolted upright and turned, seeing her friend confused at first. After inspecting Sumire’s face for a moment, she burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Unable to speak, Sumire only looked at her coldly, stood up, and walked toward the college, the sound of her friend’s heels clicking against the ground as she followed.

Her friend passed in front of her without looking back, laughter tickling Sumire’s ears.

“You’ll have to wash your face, Miss Yellow Nose,” her friend chuckled.

Taking advantage of the moment she wasn’t being watched, Sumire spat out the flower and coughed lightly.

She pulled out her pocket mirror, and saw her nose completely yellow from the pollen. She wiped it away with a handkerchief until it disappeared completely.

Upon arriving at the building where the first lesson of the day would take place, many people tried to catch Sumire’s attention.

They greeted her cheerfully, some even waving their hands, but it was all in vain. She ignored them entirely, even averting her gaze when someone tried to make eye contact.

No one seemed offended, and there was a reason for that. She was seen as a cold beauty—the kind who was harsh in her words and acted tough. Yet through her actions, she often showed how kind she truly was. She was also admired for her good grades and even her athletic exploits, making her loved by everyone.

Sumire remained modest about everything, even when praised, telling people to fuck off every time and judging them with eyes as sharp as a blade.

At least no one knew how shy she really was inside, or how quickly panic could take hold of her.

“Do I still have yellow on my nose!? Why are they staring?” she thought, panic creeping in as she convinced herself that everyone cared only about that.

She hurried into the hall and spotted Yuto sitting a little further away with his friends. She didn’t know why, but the mere sight of them made her turn and walk in their direction.

“Ah! It’s the Racket Monster! What do you want from us?” Ken asked as Sumire arrived.

“Enough with that nickname. I’m not here to talk to you,” she replied without even looking at him, her eyes fixed on Yuto.

Ryu and Ken stepped back, leaving the two of them alone.

“So…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “You were performing yesterday?” she asked nonchalantly, her voice devoid of unusual emotion or interest.

Yuto turned toward her and dared to meet her gaze. Sumire’s eyes widened, and a faint peachy red colored her cheeks.

“What… What does he want? Wait…”

She shook her head to regain composure.

Yuto’s face was the same as always—a wall, unreadable, with no emotion showing through.

“What’s with that!? Wasn’t he way more shiny yesterday? Why is he acting like this…?” she thought, irritated.

“Yeah. We had a play in the street.”

“It looked like you were enjoying yourself in that shiny armor,” Sumire said with a condescending laugh.

“Oh? So you were watching me? I didn’t know you were there, given how many people were around,” he replied teasingly, turning his gaze away as he leaned his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his hand. “So it really was her!? I wasn’t entirely sure from that far away… I just guessed in the moment. Ahhh, I hope she didn't make any jokes about it to her friends. That would be embarrassing… I might die from shame…” he thought.

Sumire looked annoyed by his answer, but Yuto was too busy avoiding her gaze to notice.

“And what about that line you played at that moment?” she asked.

“My lines?” Yuto raised an eyebrow as he turned to her. “Yeah. According to the audience, I played them well. I’m fairly confident I embodied my character accurately,” he said calmly.

“Oh…”

“I’ll go join Ryu and Ken. Good day to you, Yozora,” Yuto said as he stood and grabbed his backpack.

Something fell from his pocket as he did so. He didn’t notice and simply rejoined his friends.

Sumire, speechless and faintly blushing, looked at the object lying on the floor.

“He… didn’t call me Racket Monster…”

She picked it up quietly, checking her surroundings to make sure no one noticed.

The object now in her hand, she inspected closely.

It was a cat keychain, oddly shaped. It was still in good enough condition to recognize it as a cat, though it was deformed and missing some paws. Its mouth was wide open, showing pointy teeth, and its eyes barely open, giving it a strange expression

“Weird taste in cats…” she thought, slipping it discreetly into her pocket.