Siamese in the City

As I crossed my legs down on the floor, I could feel a resonance with the girl in front of me. It was rare that I could connect with another on a personal level to begin with, but she was one in particular that I always seemed to want to come back to watch.

“Mrroooowwww.”

She was on the fluffier side of the scale, with off-white fur which was splotched with heavier browns and blacks, and one especially big spot right on her face. I liked to imagine she was always returning from dipping her face right into some mud, perhaps while looking for something.

Not that she was the type of cat to do so.

Really, she was more one to stay inside. An obedient house cat, if you will. Living in your average suburban household, with an average straight-laced family to take care of her, she didn’t have much of an interesting past, either. At least not one I was aware of, from my time observing her.

But despite that, she was proud. Proud of what, you might ask?

Well proud in the way she would strut around the house, shamelessly bothering her caretakers for attention and affection. Proud in how she would pout and beg for the highest of class food, and then not eat it just to assert dominance. Proud in the way that she never left the house or did much of anything, despite having so much energy. Especially proud in the satisfied look on her face after coughing up a wad of gross, wet hair right onto the carpet.

Or something like that.

I didn’t really understand why she did the things that she did. Though that said, I wasn’t really a cat either. But regardless, coming to watch the lazy little ball of fur was nothing short of therapeutic.

Oh?

Woaaah.

No, wait, really?

She was hopping at the front door with her little hind legs. I think she was trying to open it. Well, it was the middle of the night, when her family was dead asleep, so perhaps she really was trying to go outside? It wasn’t really part of her usual agenda, but I suppose even the laziest of cats want to do a little exploring once in a while, right?

She wasn’t really making loads of progress though. I see a little crinkle of her furry brows as she made failed attempt after attempt to hang off of the handle, and pull it open.

I wanted to help; I really did; but I couldn’t, right?

I was the observer, after all.

There was no choice but to watch her keep struggling to open it.

That’s right, nothing I could do about it.

…

Well, I ended up opening it for her anyway.

She wouldn’t run away from that home. I could tell that the feline knew exactly just how privileged she was. She was comfortable, and while she might be indulging in a little mischievous fun for the moment, she’d hardly risk jeopardizing her low effort, indulgent lifestyle.

Cats were smart creatures, after all.

But seriously, where was she headed? Did she even have an objective, or did she just want to get some natural light on her fur for once? Well, from the way she was bobbing her head around aimlessly, perhaps she didn’t have much of an objective at all. Though I could feel a vague sense of longing radiating, so I figured it was more than just a random impulse.

Her cute, beady eyes almost seemed to glow a bit, illuminated by the street lights surrounding the little cookie-cutter house.

The soft atmosphere didn’t seem to interest her though, as she didn’t really seem to be looking around with too much purpose. I’m sure that she was looking for a bit more excitement.

So she began to stroll.

Down the alleyways, passing house after house, the little cat made her way to a more populated night life. Fortunately for her, the city wasn’t far from the reaches of her owners’ little home. Soon enough, she was met with the much more colorfully illuminated streets of downtown. The passersby that spotted the highway sidewalk didn’t seem to pay any mind to the scarcely present animal at their feet. If anything, they were friendly to her, stopping to try and grab her attention.

Even though she strutted as confidently as ever, the feline was a bit more skittish under the unfamiliar bright lights and lively establishments she passed by, so she didn’t seem too fond of stopping for those who wanted to pet her or play with her.

Though, the offer of food seemed to get her attention a few times.

She stopped and sniffed something towards a nearby alleyway, quickly locking onto the scent and following it all the way to its source.

Jumping from rail, to dumpster, to a loose-hanging AC unit, she parkoured her way up the side of a tall brick apartment building. Skipping off of the edge of balconies, chairs, and windowsills, she paid no mind to a flock of delivery drones drifting past her.

While taking a moment to rest, a slide door suddenly opened at her side, causing her to jump with a startled shriek, and continue moving. The feline stretched out her long torso, and readied herself for an especially high hop up to the top of the building, where she could better take a moment to catch a breath and take in the scenery of the technological setting laid out in front of her wide pupils. While she was still in the lowest level of the city, there were many grated pathways and raised concrete platforms which led to the higher and more densely packed urban zones. Just ahead, she was facing many skyscrapers which stood out in front of the dark landscape, almost overwhelmed by mass sections of glass panel windows, and glossy stone.

The cat took in the vast environment which she stood so close to, yet so far from, and debated whether to crawl further into the nightlife.

Off in the far distance, she took notice of an amusement park, which was overflowing with fluorescence.

Suddenly, the same scent came back into her nose, reminding her that she had originally been tracing it.

What was that smell? I could tell she was fiercely curious about it. Nothing sweet or fishy, or really resembling food at all. It was almost more of a material smell, like leather or fresh fabric. But she couldn’t quite work it out in her head. She wanted to chase it further; sink into the depths of the city and let herself be overtaken by her curiosity until she found it again.

It incited a deep, unconscious nostalgia that she so desperately wanted to understand again. I knew the feeling. Thought I couldn’t recognize the scent in the same way that she did, nor was I very interested, I could tell that it was special to her. Though I didn’t want to spoil it, either. The mystery of what intrigued her about it was a sacred feeling to me, as well.

The sun began to peek up from behind the clouds. It was barely visible behind the smog and clouds which were thrown up into sky, but I could see her fluffy face droop a bit as she slowly made a circle back around to the way she had came, and hopped back down with the intention of abandoning her endeavor.

Perhaps she could come back to find it another day.

No, she had already given up.

I felt a bit bad.

~

The siamese was back inside before anybody took notice, or really even woke up to find her gone. She sulked in her lavish pet bed, complete with air conditioning and an accompanying four-tier carpeted playground which she rarely made use of. I couldn’t help but lean down and hold my knees as I watched her readjust to her regular, household lifestyle.

She wasn’t satisfied with her little trip outside. Or, in a way, she was, as she probably had no plans to return outside for a long time. But she didn’t so much as sate her curiosity, as much as being struck with the realization that she was restricted by her current lifestyle.

She had a past that she wanted to go back to, which had long since left her behind. But she was perfectly comfortable with her current self as well, so there was a conflict at the back of her mind which she was trying to forget through the comfort of a futon.

Or really, that was all just my own speculation. She was just a cat, after all.

I gave her a good poke.

No response.

So I did it a few more times. I was sure not to reveal my presence, though also I made sure she could fully feel my bony little finger press into her furry lump of a tummy.

Still, nothing.

She was trying to ignore me.

“Hey. Don’t ignore me.”

I poked her some more, and even squeezed her tummy a bit.

That got a good hiss out of her.

“Don’t touch me.”

A response.

“I wasn’t expecting you to go and leave the house like that.”

She tried to play it off like she hadn’t just talked to me, and resumed ignoring me. But it was too late, I had already broken her little roleplay.

“Are you planning to go out again anytime soon?”

Nothing.

“What was that smell?”

Silence.

“Was it something from back when you were still a human?”

…

“Maybe.”

“I see.”

I prodded further. But not literally, this time.

“Do you think you’ll ever try being human again?”

“I don’t even remember what I looked like back then. So no.”

“Oh, that’s okay.”

I pulled out a little photo of a girl no older than 12, who was cute and small with pale skin and black hair, somehow resembling the cat’s statue, despite her vastly unrelated physical appearance.

“Look.”

“Throw that away.”

She was a bit embarrassed.

I was enjoying myself, if you couldn’t tell.

“Why? You were so cute back then.”

“I’m much cuter like this.”

“So you’d like to think.”

…

“Shut up. Who asked you to come check on me?”

Nobody but myself, of course.

“Well, I just wanted to bother you for a bit. I’ll head out.”

I took my leave. But on my way out, I could hear a faint few words from behind me.

“See you.”

I turned back to wave, making sure she saw me do it. Then I really did leave.

Ah.

That was The NEET, by the way.