Companion

I’ll never get him back. My sweet Mochi, gone forever. He snuck out the shoji this morning and now it’s night over the countryside. He always comes back at nighttime. Every time I hear the bamboo rustling in the yard I check to see if he’s making his way home, but it’s always the wind. Rei has been taking care of me through my grief. She’s been swearing up and down that Mochi will make a reappearance, but I’m not so sure.

The crickets are rather sinister this evening. It’s a constant buzzing in my ear, reminding me of what I’m missing. Half of my heart, beating out of sync, erratic. Though my back is sore from working in the fields, I can’t sit down. Pacing helps me think, so I pace. Back and forth. Back and forth. Beckoning Mochi back to my arms, telepathically.

I don’t allow tears to fall. I can’t admit defeat quite yet. I must step into action. I walk through the shoji into our home, greeted by hot tea and rice porridge spread about the table. Instead of taking my seat on the pillow across from Rei, I make my way into our bedroom to dress more appropriately for the cool spring night.

“Where are you going?” Rei calls to me from the kitchen.

“I’m going to look for him,” I reply.

“Oh, honey, please don’t. He will turn up. You know the boar come out at night. There’s no sense putting yourself in danger.” Rei pleads with me. I ignore her calls as I put on my haori, one sleeve at a time.

“Please, Haru. You’ll be so tired in the morning. We must continue the spring harvest.”

“Rei, I won’t be able to sleep regardless. Let me do this in peace. If not to find Mochi, but to ground myself.” I reply. She just nods at me and eats her meal. I bow my thanks as I slip on my geta and head out the door.

I stop by the shed to grab a scythe. She’s not wrong about the boar, which makes me worry more about my sweet baby cat. The stars are bright in the night sky and the full moon lights up the night. I walk down towards the bamboo and cut a trail to enter the forest. Mochi doesn’t generally play in the fields. He’s probably run off to hunt rabbits, weasels, and rats. I wouldn’t put it by him.

The forest is quiet, the only things I can hear are my breathing, my footsteps, and the occasional rustling of the foliage in the breeze. The stars are no longer visible through the dense tree line, but the moon creates a path by my feet as the light travels through the splotches of blank space between the leaves. An owl who-who’s in the distance and I take a deep breath. Good fortune, good fortune. I’m on the right track. Just keep trekking, Haru. One foot in front of the other.

I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that overwhelmed me. It was quite hard to see, and my energy was depleting with each step. There’s a reason we built homes and forged fires. Men were not meant to live in the forest, and the animals liked it better when we stayed out of their business. It’s much different than going on a leisurely walk during the day. The wood feels like life and death all at once. In here, I’m predator and prey. Survival of the fittest. Boars, snakes, brown bears; they would not hesitate to strike my down the second they had the chance. My weakness would make it easy for them. I’m so tired, I would probably just succumb to the sweet release of death. What’s the point in fighting back?

It’s not just about the cat. Life is hard, tiring, back-breaking. We make just enough to survive, but when do we have time to thrive? The times I feel most at peace in the world are with Mochi by my side. My sweet pal loves me unconditionally. Now, Rei loves me, but there are conditions. We signed off on them on the day of our wedding. We were supposed to bear children, it surely would have helped with our farm, but the Universe had other plans. She resents me for it, no matter how much she cares.

But Mochi doesn’t care if I can or can’t father children. He doesn’t care that my skin is getting rough and wrinkled. That my lower belly is protruding more than usual as my metabolism slows. That the hair at the front of my head is beginning to thin. That my bones are compressing against my spine causing me to hunch and lose height. Mochi loves me, for me. For the hands that pet him and feed him. And I love Mochi.

I take a deep sigh and allow myself to fall to the forest floor, feeling the decaying leaves, cool and damp between my fingers. I suppress a sob as tears begin to stream down my cheeks. I feel them hot against my face as grief takes a hold of my very being. Suddenly, out of the silence, I hear a cry. Not a human one, but a feline cry, meow’s coming from my left.

I gather myself quickly and raise my body off the ground making my way towards the noise.

“Mochi!” I call. It’s answered by more meows. The noise is coming from an azalea bush. Its flowers are still green and tightly bound, not ready to bloom for a few weeks. I make my way to the bush and dig around through the leaves. I don’t care if I damage the branches, my Mochi is calling out to me.

What I see blows me away. It is Mochi, but he was not alone. He sat defensively around an orange tabby, feeding five tiny kittens with its engorged nipples. Mochi wasn’t running away, he was raising a family. Now we can have a houseful; like Rei always wanted. Tears fell harder now than they did before, but not out of grief. I gained the trust of the female cat and scooped her kittens into my satchel. The adults followed me back through the woods as we made our way back to the cottage. Rei will be so happy.