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When Makoto woke up, he noticed that something was wrong. The big Maine Coon pushed himself to his paws, his jaws parting in a quick yawn. Before he could really focus on anything else, he stretched his front legs and then, one at a time, flexed his back legs as well. He blinked lazily, still tired from his afternoon nap, and addressed the strange feeling in his gut.
“Haru?” he mewed after a moment’s hesitation. Right. How could he forget Haru? It wasn’t abnormal for his fellow feline to skip their afternoon nap… but he was pretty sure Haru had been there when he had fallen asleep. Yeah, he was positive, and Haru almost always waited for him to wake up, usually restless and wanting to play at that point.
Makoto simply sighed. Haru never really was one for naps; he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that he had wandered away. He glanced out the window. He had originally fallen asleep in a large patch of sunshine, but now it was dark and gloomy outside. A few raindrops hit the pane.
Makoto’s haunches wiggled slightly as he leapt from the spare bed. His human never used it, so the cats had taken it over as their personal sleeping space. Or at least Makoto had. He liked how cushy it was and how much it smelled like cat. Haru, on the other hand, tended to prefer boxes and cabinets. Makoto didn’t understand, but it was humorous whenever Haru misjudged and got stuck in something. Makoto always went running to their human for help much to Haru’s embarassment.
Makoto nudged the door open and trotted out of the room and down the hallway to the main living area. His human was there, sitting on the sofa and staring at the picture box that Makoto could never quite figure out. “Hello!” he called in greeting, waving his tail. He had learned over the years that his human wasn’t quite smart enough to understand him, but he tried to be as courteous as possible.
“There you are, Mako,” she cooed. Her eyes flickered from the box to him. “I was wondering where you were. You were napping, weren’t you?” Her voice always went up an octave when she was talking to him or Haru.
Makoto chirped in response. “Yep, napping.” He made a brief detour, rubbing past her legs and offering a small purr. She leaned down to pick him up, but he squeezed out of her grasp. He felt a little guilty about ignoring his human. He liked cuddles and being pet, but he was more concerned with tracking down Haru.
His human merely laughed, stroked his tail, and went back to the picture box.
Makoto wandered into the kitchen. He parted his jaws slightly, trying to pick up Haru’s scent, but of course, everything in the house smelled like Haru anyway, so it was hard to get an accurate read on what was fresh and what wasn't. It didn’t help that Makoto was an indoor cat. He doubted he could catch, much less track, a mouse if his life depended on it.
But he was pretty sure Haru wasn’t in the kitchen, at least. The water dish caught his attention momentarily, and he stopped to take a few licks of fresh water.
Water… that gave him an idea.
Haru was definitely an interesting cat. He loved squeezing himself into tiny spaces, and, even though he was tiny in size, ended up stuck more often than not. He liked to sleep upright with his paws covering his face, and he never purred. He hated thunder, clanking pots, and loud noises in general with a burning passion, and always came running whenever their human had fish (it was his favorite).
But, by far, the weirdest thing about Haru was that he actually liked water, unlike Makoto and most other cats. He lurked around the kitchen when their human was there on the off chance she would turn on the sink just so he could stick his head under the running water. Their human had once left the bathroom door cracked, and she had ended up with a little black cat leaping into her tub. Haru had even figured out how to work the sink faucet in the bathrooms (and had once caused the bathroom to flood), so Makoto figured he would check there.
However, two bathrooms and two dry sinks later, Haru was still nowhere to be found.
Makoto paced the living room as he considered the places he hadn’t checked yet. There was his human’s bedroom. But, no, he had been in there to check one of the bathrooms. He had checked the pantry, the basement, the hall closet, the dining room… his tail flicked back and forth in frustration. Haru could be so difficult.
“What’s the matter, baby?” his human cooed from the couch. Makoto glanced at her. She was holding something toward the magic box. The picture suddenly disappeared.
“Have you seen Haru?” he asked, looking up at her with round green eyes.
She got off the couch and knelt down next to him. “Are you hungry? Do you need water?”
“No!” Makoto cried exasperatedly, turning in a circle. “I can’t find Haru.”
But his human still couldn’t understand him. He followed her as she walked into the kitchen, checking the food and water dishes. “There’s plenty here, kitty,” she said.
Makoto blinked rapidly. Maybe if he stared at her long enough, she would understand.
His human stared back at him, running a finger through her red hair. “What’s wrong?” she sighed. Makoto got the feeling she was talking to herself. “You never act like this…hm, is it six already?” She then started to bustle around in the kitchen. “Time for dinner, I guess.”
Makoto leapt up onto the counter, paws scrabbling against the marble. He gave up trying to “talk” to his human and settled with watching her and invading her personal space.
“Cut it out, Mako!” she snapped as he headbutted her hand firmly.
“Help me find Haru,” he meowed.
“Your food dish is full!” she said, even going as far as to kneel down and rattle the pellets in the bowl.
Makoto rested his chin between his paws and stared at her blankly. “I know,” he replied.
His human sighed and retrieved a pot from beneath the counter. Makoto flinched at the harsh banging noise it made. “Sorry,” she apologized, flashing him a smile. And then her brows furrowed. Makoto sat up eagerly. Without fail, Haru always vocalized a loud complaint when pots and pans clattered. But it was quiet, and even his human had noticed.
“Where’s Haru?” she asked, placing the pot loudly on the counter. Makoto let out a low growl at the awful noise, but he was relieved that she finally understood.
Wait… he cocked his head to one side. The clattering of the pots and pans could be heard throughout the whole house—he knew from experience. So, theoretically, wherever Haru was, he would have protested loudly—at least loud enough to hear.
So where was he?
As if on cue, thunder rumbled in the distance and a smacking sound came from the other room. Makoto’s human frowned. “What was that?” she asked.
If Makoto wasn’t worried before, he was now. Perhaps he was overreacting (he tended to do that), but Haru was afraid of thunder! He leapt down from the counter and quickly followed his human to the dining room. Makoto weaved his way under the chairs and pressed against his human’s ankle. She was standing in front of the door that led to the porch.
“It must have been this, huh?” she observed. The door was slightly ajar. “I must have left it open this afternoon.”
It took a few seconds for the realization to hit Makoto. “Haru went outside!” he yelped, springing to his paws so suddenly that his human yelped in surprise.
“No, you don’t want to go out there, kitty,” she said, quickly shutting the door all the way. “It’s raining.”
That’s probably why Haru went out, Makoto realized with a sigh. Haru saw the raindrops and the open door and went for it. That was just like him.
Makoto planted himself firmly in front of the door, looking up at his human. “Haru’s outside!” he meowed again. “We have to go get him!”
There was another loud crack of thunder that made Makoto jump. His tail twitched back and forth nervously. The rain was coming down hard now.
Makoto turned back to his human, but she had already returned to the kitchen. “Fine,” he muttered to himself, staring at the door. “I can do it myself.” Balancing on his hind legs, he reached up at the door knob. He pulled at the knob, but his paw pads simply slipped against the cool metal. He batted at it a few more times, but it was no use.
He was forced to rely on his human after all. “Help!” he cried, circling in front of the door. “I need to go out. Come here.” He kept up his incessant mewing for a solid minute before his human came storming back into the room.
“What is it now?” she asked with a grumble. “You really are acting weird today, Mako.”
Makoto made eye contact with her and then gently headbutted the door.
“I already told you, you can’t go out there!” his human said, bending down and patting Makoto on the head. “You’ll get…” Her voice trailed off and realization dawned in her eyes. “Haru got out, didn’t he?” she screeched, leaping to her feet.
“Yes!” Makoto meowed loudly, nervously kneading his paws on the hardwood floor.
“Oh, God, hang on—lemme—!” Makoto couldn’t understand her babbling. She disappeared, and he could hear her thudding footsteps echoing throughout the house.
Lightening illuminated the sky, followed by a crack of thunder that shook the house. “Of all the times…” Makoto’s human grumbled as she fumbled with the umbrella in her hands. She reached for the doorknob but not before nudging Makoto away with her foot. “Stay in here, Mako.”
Makoto shot her an indignant expression and mewed in protest.
“Stay!” his human commanded firmly as she twisted the doorknob.
Makoto was usually very well behaved. He didn’t jump onto the dinner table, he didn’t bother his human when she was sleeping, he didn’t scratch anything but his designated scratching post, and when his human told him not to do something, he generally listened.
But he wouldn’t stay inside. Not when Haru was outside in the storm. Alone. It was Makoto’s job to take care of him.
So the second his human cracked the door, Makoto flung his body at the opening. Even with his large build, he was able to squeeze through. He was immediately pelted by stinging raindrops and almost regretted the decision. Narrowing his eyes against the rain, he swiftly padded forward. He parted his jaw to experimentally taste the air, but the rain had destroyed any existing scent trails.
Makoto was vaguely aware of his human yelling behind him, but he merely leapt down the porch steps. Now he was in the backyard. The grass was mushy underneath his paws, and his fur was already heavy with rainwater, dragging him down.
He hated being wet.
“Haru!” Makoto called as he trotted through the yard, urgency aiding his paws. The sky suddenly illuminated, burning Makoto’s dilated pupils, and a dark rumbling filled the air. The rain seemed to pour even harder, pounding against Makoto’s face. He flattened his ears and kept his head down.
Thankfully, Haru was probably somewhere in the backyard since he never strayed far. On the down side, their human’s backyard was huge.
Makoto sniffed underneath a few bushes, but they were empty. I have to think like Haru, Makoto told himself, taking refuge underneath a bush while he collected his bearings. His human stomped past, calling out Haru’s name. She was soaked despite her umbrella.
Haru loved the rain but hated thunder and lightning, so, Makoto figured, he had probably been lying in the rain in his favorite spot underneath the retaining wall until he heard the first clap of thunder. Then he would’ve taken immediate refuge.
Makoto wormed his way out from underneath the bush, the thorns clawing angrily at his fur. As he trotted down the steps, a burst of wind nearly scooped him off his paws and caused him to lose his footing. He staggered slightly but pushed on, determined to find Haru.
There was a little dip by the concrete retaining wall, and Makoto almost didn’t see the soaked pile of black fur shivering in the puddle of water forming there.
“H-haru!” he exclaimed. His paws sent up small sprays of water as he waded toward the little clump. True to his water-loving nature, Haru was almost completely submerged in the puddle of water, and his paws were pressed over his eyes.
Makoto pressed his forehead against the smaller cat’s shoulder comfortingly. “Haru, it’s okay,” he meowed, raising his voice so he could be heard over the downpour. When Haru still didn’t respond, Makoto said, “C’mon, let’s go inside.”
Haru shifted one of his paws to peek at Makoto experimentally, but then another clap of thunder rocked the sky. He made a small squeaking sound and curled up tightly.
Makoto glanced around desperately. He could hear their human’s voice faintly; she was on the other side of the yard. He supposed he could go get her. But he didn’t want to leave Haru, and she probably wouldn’t follow him anyway.
So, Makoto chose his next best option. He leaned down and took the fold of skin on the back of Haru’s neck in his jaws. He felt Haru tense beneath him as Makoto slowly lifted his head. Haru was light, and Makoto was easily able to lift him from the ground. Haru curled tightly, bringing his limbs close to his body, and said nothing.
Fighting against the wind, Makoto headed back toward the stairs. He held his head high, trying not to let Haru drag along the ground. The loudest crack of thunder yet exploded in the air. Haru squirmed, and Makoto nearly dropped him, but he clamped down as tightly as he could without hurting his friend.
As Makoto dragged himself up the last step, his human came running toward him. “Oh, Mako, you found him!” she yelled, bending down. “Thank goodness!”
Makoto reluctantly parted his jaws as his human took Haru, who remained limp, in her arms. She stroked Makoto’s back. “Good kitty,” she said before snaking her hand under Makoto’s belly and lifting him up. It was unpleasant, but Makoto allowed it, especially since it was somewhat dry underneath his human’s umbrella and his paws didn’t have to touch the soaked ground.
The two dripping cats were quickly carried inside where Makoto was immediately put down. “Stay right there,” his human said sternly as she carried Haru toward the hallway. Makoto instinctively trotted after her, not wanting to lose contact with Haru so soon after he had found him.
His human made a sharp turn into the bathroom and grabbed two towels, immediately swaddling Haru as if she was afraid he might bolt and hide in a closet or cabinet—which was an entirely likely possibility. She looked down and seemed to notice Makoto for the first time. “Didn’t I tell you to wait?” she sighed. Juggling Haru in one arm and a towel in the other, she scooted by Makoto. “Come on, kitty. Come here,” she called, making a clicking noise with her tongue. Makoto followed.
His human gently put Haru down on the couch and turned to Makoto, towel spread between her hands. “You got so wet,” she fretted. “Why’d you have to go outside?” She draped the towel over Makoto and rubbed somewhat violently. Makoto didn’t appreciate the harsh treatment, but he could feel the towel pulling the chilly water from his dense fur.
As soon as she turned away, Makoto leapt up onto the couch and nudged Haru. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Haru turned toward him, blue eyes blinking blearily as if he had just woken up. “Makoto…” he mewed quietly.
Relief swelled in Makoto’s chest, but before he could say anything more, he felt hands around his midriff and he was lifted in the air. “Hey!” his human reprimanded. “You’re all wet. Don’t get on the couch.”
Makoto voiced his displeasure loudly, squirming in her grip. He needed to be with Haru!
But his human seemed to understand that, at least, because she said, “Here, hang on.” She gently put him down and then grabbed Haru. Makoto stared at her, confused. She took the other towel, walked over near the heating vent, laid the towel down flat, and then gently unwrapped Haru. To Makoto’s surprise, Haru didn’t flee immediately. He merely sunk down on the towel and rested his chin between his paws, eyes half-lidded.
Makoto padded over, brushing against his human’s legs in thanks. “Ack, you’re still all wet!” she said with a frown, but she patted him and disappeared toward the kitchen.
Feeling the heat from the vent on his fur, Makoto tucked his paws underneath his body and gently pressed against Haru’s side.
Haru turned his head away, but he leaned into Makoto’s touch. After a comfortable silence passed, he said, “You got wet.”
Makoto couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess I did.”
“The door was open, so…” Haru muttered. The tip of his skinny tail twitched back and forth.
“It’s okay,” Makoto said before he could continue. “I understand.” He figured Haru had gone out before the thunder and lightning had started, and then he had panicked and hid instead of finding his way back inside.
Haru looked at Makoto for the first time, his blue eyes no longer glazed and hazy. “You look small when you’re wet,” he observed.
Makoto glanced down at his own body. “Huh, you’re right,” he replied with a warm laugh. Although he had a large build, half of his appearance was fluff, and he lost a lot of his volume when his fur was plastered to his body.
“Looks weird,” Haru mumbled.
A purr bubbled up through Makoto’s throat and he gave his chest a few licks to hide his embarrassment. He was still on edge about the whole ordeal, but now that he and Haru were together in the dry warmth of the house, he let relief soak through his limbs along with a warm feeling of nostalgia.
Makoto found himself remembering his kittenhood—or, more specifically, his time at the pound. He really couldn’t remember his mother or siblings; his first true memories were of metal bars and cages. And then, of course, there had been Haru in the cell next to his, and as the time went by, they had become inseparable. They weren’t brothers, but they seemed to fool everyone else. Haru had been so tiny and frail back then (even more so than he was now), and Makoto had taken it upon himself to look after him. As they grew older, the humans who worked at the shelter moved them into a larger cage together.
Human after human came and offered to take Makoto away from the dark place, but they never wanted Haru, so the caretakers said no.
Time passed and the two tom cats grew into adults. When it seemed that the pound was their only fate, their human came along and offered to take both of them.
“You’re purring really loud.” Haru’s voice broke his train of thought.
Makoto jumped slightly and turned toward Haru. “Oh!” he exclaimed abashedly. “Was I?”
“Yeah,” Haru affirmed quietly, stretching his paws out in front of him. “What were you thinking about?”
Makoto glanced down at his paws. “Nothing much,” he said quietly, a purr still rumbling in the back of his throat. “Just… remember when we were kittens?”
Haru simply blinked slowly.
Makoto laughed nervously. “I was just thinking about that, is all.”
“Yeah,” Haru said quietly, and from his tone, Makoto knew that Haru was thinking about it too.
Their human was making muffled noises in the kitchen, and Makoto felt Haru tense slightly. “It’s alright,” Makoto said after a moment.
Haru sighed. “It hurts my ears.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Makoto said with a frown, genuine sorrow in his voice. “I wish there was something I could do.” He leaned in and drew his tongue over Haru’s damp fur, initiating the process of grooming. Haru shivered slightly but then relaxed, letting his chin rest on the towel.
Grooming was important, especially with wet fur as it smoothed the fur and allowed it to dry faster, and Makoto knew that Haru would neglect the task in his current state. It was nothing new, almost a daily activity, but it felt different to Makoto for some reason. It wasn’t a day-to-day maintenance activity this time; it held importance.
As Makoto worked his way down Haru’s back, he heard a shaky sigh from his small friend. “Thank you, Makoto,” Haru murmured as he shifted into a less rigid, more comfortable position, his paws pressing against Makoto’s side.
Makoto paused, pink tongue extended in the air, and as he looked at Haru, whose eyes were closed, he heard something strange: a faint rumbling sound.
“H-haru…?” Makoto asked quietly. “Are you… purring?” Makoto was in shock. Haru never purred. Makoto had been under the impression that Haru couldn’t even purr at all.
One of Haru’s eyes peeked open and glared up at Makoto. “No,” he muttered before closing his eyes again and weakly stretching his limbs.
Makoto couldn’t help but smile, because it was even more obvious now that Haru was indeed purring. It was a broken, quiet sound, but it was unmistakable. He simply said, “Okay,” and continued his business. As he finished with Haru’s tail, he realized the little cat had fallen asleep. His sides rose and fell gently, and a faint purr still echoed from this throat.
Weariness catching up to his wet limbs, Makoto let his head drop to the towel. The warmth from the heater was making him drowsy. His limbs tangled up with Haru’s, he wrapped his fluffy tail around his body.
With a gentle sigh, Haru curled closer to Makoto and pressed his forehead into the Maine Coon’s chest, his paws kneading gently at Makoto’s fur.
Warmth spreading through his limbs, Makoto let sleep overtake him.
After drying her hair and making herself a mug of hot chocolate, Gou emerged from the kitchen to find the two cats asleep by the heater. She smiled softly and shook her head. Placing her mug on the coffee table momentarily, she leaned down and stroked Makoto’s head twice. “Good boy,” she whispered fondly before grabbing her mug and heading upstairs, not wanting to disturb the two sleeping cats.