Mrs Sakuraba seemed quite disappointed.
‘Hiromi … isn’t a bad choice, but won’t people mistake it for a girl’s name? I still think Kota might be better.’
‘No complaints, please. I won the game, fair and square. If you like the name Kota so much, why don’t we call the kitten that?’
And that’s how he came to be named Kota.
By the time little Kota was scampering around the house, baby Hiromi still had not learned to roll over. All he could do was shuffle his arms and legs around while swaddled in a blanket.
Do you think he’s okay? Kota asked worriedly, but Diana reassured him. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.
Masahiro had been exactly the same, according to her. Humans took longer to grow up than cats.
Even so it seemed to be taking a very long time. Kota often went to check on little Hiromi as he lay squirming around like a caterpillar.
Wonder if today’s the day he’ll stand up, thought Kota, fixing him with a good long stare. Nope, he’s still a caterpillar.
Hurry up and learn to stand. If your mother abandons you, then what? Kota suddenly remembered that his mother had left him behind because he had been such a weak kitten with extremely wobbly hind legs.
One day as he was nervously scanning Hiromi’s sleeping face, the baby’s eyes popped wide open.
No one had been able to tell if the baby could actually see anything much, but now those unseeing dark eyes seemed to be focusing at last.
And then he gave a little laugh.
Mrs Sakuraba came scurrying over.
‘I hope you’re not trying to bite him,’ she said.
That’s pretty rude, Kota thought and was about to stalk off, when Hiromi suddenly burst into a loud wailing.
‘Hmm … Do you want Kota to stay?’
Mrs Sakuraba patted Kota on the head, and put her hands together in apology. ‘I’m sorry. And here you were getting along so nicely.’
Ah well, she’s the mum, so best to cut her some slack.
Kota nestled down beside the baby’s pillow and Hiromi was now all smiles and contented gurgling.
‘Isn’t that nice, that Kota wants to have a cuddle with you?’
With a heart-melting smile, Mrs Sakuraba stroked Hiromi’s cheeks, and then gave Kota’s throat a fond scratch.
Ah, I get it. From the way Mum is smiling, it doesn’t look like she’s going to get rid of this caterpillar any time soon. All’s well that ends well, Kota thought, giving Hiromi’s milky-scented forehead a good lick, thus provoking another happy gurgle of laughter.
Kota began to curl up beside Hiromi every day, until Hiromi learned to roll over and around, then to crawl, then to stand on his own two feet, and finally to walk. Before you knew it, he was racing around the house like a member of some infant biker gang.
He fell down a lot though, and bumped into things, his motor skills still only half developed. Meanwhile, Kota was fast growing into a fully fledged adult cat.
Humans really do grow up so slowly, he lamented.
You’re right, agreed Diana. By the time the baby reaches Masahiro’s age, you could have become an adult five times over.
When Kota was still a kitten, Masahiro had looked huge to him, but now he seemed just like some young kid.
The fusuma sliding doors were by this time completely in shreds. They could repaper them all they wanted, but they still ended up in tatters. Mrs Sakuraba decided to let them stay ripped.
‘We have two gangsters in our house,’ she complained. This was about the time Hiromi was starting kindergarten and Masahiro had gone up to elementary school.
Masahiro was more often now referred to as the onee-san – the older brother. Most of the time it was when he was being scolded: ‘You’re the onee-san, so you should behave yourself.’ Masahiro would come back with a sullen, ‘I hate being the onee-san.
‘You never tell Hiromi to behave. It’s not fair!’ he’d protest.
His parents had to admit he had a point.
‘Okay, so let’s make Hiromi an onee-san, too,’ Mrs Sakuraba proposed.
‘But Hiromi doesn’t have a younger brother.’ Masahiro was pouting again.
‘No, but he does have Kota,’ Mrs Sakuraba said with a smile.
What? Just a second! Now it was Kota who was getting flustered. I’m the older brother, actually. I was born first, and besides, I’m already an adult. But Kota could protest all day – humans couldn’t understand cat talk.
‘Hiromi, you can be Kota’s big brother, can’t you?’
‘You bet!’
You bet wrong there, little man.
But this cat protest, too, was completely ignored.
You’d best give it up. Humans only understand their own language, Diana said.
‘So you’d better set a good example as an older brother for Kota,’ said Mr Sakuraba.
Kota dropped his eyes and lay belly down on the floor.
When it comes to walking, running, jumping, even grooming, a kid like Hiromi has absolutely nothing to teach me.
‘Before we have dinner, I’d like the two of you to clean up the room, okay? You’re both older brothers now, after all.’
‘Okaay,’ the two boys answered, a more docile response than usual, and began to gather up the toys and picture books that lay scattered across the floor.
This is how Kota became the third son – cat – in the family hierarchy, even though by any measure nothing could have been further from the truth.
BUT NOW, YEARS LATER, HIROMI had grown properly big, Kota thought as he gazed up from where he sat at his feet. Hiromi had got up late this morning, but still did not seem to be in a hurry.
Hiromi had grown taller than Mr Sakuraba, even taller than Masahiro.
‘Morning!’ Hiromi greeted his mum, who immediately shot back with, ‘Took your time getting up, that’s for sure.’ Hiromi shrugged. Being a college student seemed a pretty leisurely occupation.
Hiromi gave Kota’s head a good pat as he passed by on his way to the fridge. He took out a carton of milk and started to glug it down.
‘Don’t drink straight from the carton!’
‘But I’m going to finish it.’
Hiromi drained the milk, rinsed out the carton in the sink and dropped it in the recycling bin.
Ah hah!
As Hiromi was crouched down arranging items in the recycling bin, Kota, who had been sprawling on the sofa, suddenly saw his chance. He shot over to him and scrambled up Hiromi’s back.
‘OUCH!!’
By the time Hiromi had let out this overblown yell, Kota was already at his shoulders.
‘You scratched my back with your claws, Kota!’
But I have to bare them – how else can I get a grip?
Kota now had a good purchase on Hiromi’s shoulders and was gazing down, his face inscrutable. Mrs Sakuraba, who had been rifling through the morning mail at the dining table, looked over and giggled. ‘He’s never satisfied until he’s climbed on top of your shoulders at least once a day.’
‘Kota has been doing that since he was little. Though it used to be Dad he preferred to climb.’
No, you’ve got that all wrong.
Kota stuck out a paw on the back of Hiromi’s neck.
Since he was little. Kota had not been little at all. Only Hiromi and Masahiro had been little at the time. When he’d started to climb up Dad’s back, he was already an adult.