English C.A.T. File 2:

CAT File 2: Nyandarism and Wabi-Sabi Fancy

CAT2の英訳をChatGPTさんにやってもらいました。
名前の不統一とかは、ぼちぼち直したいけど、いつになるやらです。

Used ChatGPT for translation.

000. C.A.T.: Chasm Adjust Taskforce

C.A.T. stands for Chasm Adjust Taskforce, an organization of Neko-bito ー Catfolk that functions like a police force specializing in boundary phenomena within the human world. While the Catfolk themselves are quintessential examples of such boundary cases, much like ordinary cats, they are somewhat capricious and laissez-faire by nature. Their job is to casually blur the lines of incidents that shouldn't be examined too closely and skillfully ease them into the serious world of humans.
This is their story.

"Yes, C.A.T."
Numata, the chief who just happened to pick up the phone, froze with the receiver to his ear.
"Uh-huh... Yes, we’re handling that... Right, an Ittan-momen*? In this mordan days? Well, I suppose that’s fine... Oh, but Schrödinger isn’t under our jurisdiction. That’s being handled on the arts-and-humanities side. Huh? A Catfolk suspicion? I see... right, okay..."
As he answered in a calming tone to the rapid-fire caller, he jotted down notes.
As a Pallas Catfolk, Chief Numata faces more hardships than most Catfolk.

*Ittan-momen is a Japanese yokai—a ghostly strip of cloth, often imagined as a piece of kimono or yukata fabric, that flies through the night. It may sound harmless, but beware: it wraps around people’s faces and tries to suffocate them. (Let’s hope it’s not an old loincloth.)

001. Testimony of Mama Buchi

Buchi, the mother of Agent Charu, is also a Neko-bito just like her daughter, and a retired former C.A.T. agent. These days she works as a human in human form, so she often takes the train to commute.

"You know, something was definitely off. He was holding his head, shaking his leg like crazy, muttering something with this scary expression. And there I was, claws out, hiding them between the door and my bag."

Mama Buchi is a black cat with white markings on her limbs and half of her face, and golden eyes just like Charu’s. Out of habit from her active days, she always stands near the train doors where there are exits on both sides. She often avoids sitting, especially on crowded trains, to keep her field of vision clear.

"Then suddenly, his expression changed."

Looking gravely from Charu to Shamu and back, Mama Buchi continued.

"I see. And that’s when he committed the act of violence?"

Shamu, uncharacteristically serious, flipped through his notebook.

"So, what did he do exactly?"

"He gave up his seat to an elderly woman."

"That’s... normal, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, I know, but still—there was something more to it. It didn’t feel like just a nice gesture."

"Well, Buchi, your intuition’s not bad, I’ll give you that. Though it’s hit or miss sometimes."

"You’ve got a nerve saying that."

Since Shamu and Buchi are former colleagues, they speak without much formality. Just then, Chief Numata walks by, dressed in a high-quality suit that accentuates her generous figure.

"Oh, Buchi dear! Long time no see."

"Ah, Chief! It’s been a while. I saw you recently in that online feature on Gray Style, didn’t I?"

"Oh my, why were you browsing a fashion site for US high-middle-aged folks?"

"The same issue had a piece on TenTails. I’m a fan."

"The singer? That’s a refined taste..."

From there, the conversation veered into a passionate discussion about TenTails between Chief Numata and Mama Buchi. Shamu gave a wry smile and closed his notebook. Charu, meanwhile, scribbled “10 tails” into her own notepad and asked Shamu,
"Can I go grab some snacks?"

"Sure, just don’t take the gecko—it’s the office pet."

And so, the CAT headquarters continues its peaceful, business-as-usual day.

002. Nyandarism at the Home of a Literary Great

“Is… this nyandarism, meow?”
A woman with black curls and round eyes rimmed in heavy eyeliner surveyed the cluttered room.

“Kurutsu‑san, please say that properly one more time.”
A blonde woman with a slight accent—but speaking correct Japanese—corrected Kurutsu. Aoki and Kurutsu had arrived at the old mansion that once housed a widely celebrated literary genius. The grand Japanese house, closed for the museum’s off day, carried a musty, damp atmosphere with layers of stale odors, making the air feel stifling. A “Do Not Enter” sign and rope blocked access to a tatami room, where a huge hanging scroll in the alcove had been torn dramatically down the center.

“Vandal-ism.”
“Vandalism—what does that mean?”
Torn between cat language and human speech, Kurutsu replied, “It means intentionally destroying things, meow. But that over there… that might just be age-related decay, meow. Let’s hurry and find the Ittan‑momen so we can head back, meow.”

The large torn scroll was strangely evocative—even a grown Neko-bito (cat‑person) who had graduated from destroying shoji screens would feel an inexplicable urge to scratch at it. The destructive impulse toward shoji was a powerful drive common to all Neko-bito. Aoki, who hadn’t grown up in a house with shoji screens, felt a faint disturbance in herself, as if she needed to wash her face with her foreleg. But standing in human form, she hid it by pushing up her glasses and clearing her throat, speaking in a slightly higher tone:

“The way the scroll is torn but the shoji screens are untouched suggests the culprit is likely not a Neko-bito.”

“Hmmm, yeah, that seems so, meow. The preservation society for this house probably doesn’t want to make a fuss… If Neko-bito aren’t involved, do we even need to investigate this? We came here because of the Ittan‑momen sighting rumors after all—better to go back to that case, meow.”

“Hum… but if the ‘victim’ is a dead author from a hundred years ago, it doesn’t seem like a fan‑stalker situation… So that would imply human vandalism, meaning it might not be our kind of criminal case.”

“Hmm… it could be a ghost‑on‑ghost stalker meow.”

“Ha. That would definite be outside our jurisdiction. Understood—we’ll go back to sheltering the flying cloth.”

“Well, a ghost‑stalker kind of does sound fun, meow… If we tried, maybe we could make it a target for investigation, meow…”

“Nooo, ghost‑on‑ghost stalking is too much trouble, Kam‑bā‑sam.”

“But it does sound fun, meow. By the way, what did that scroll originally say, I wonder?”

“It’s torn so we can’t read it.”

“Hmmm… the description says it was written, ‘Jin o nasu’—‘Accomplish benevolence.’ It brings to mind an instruction to selflessly devote to others, meow. Perhaps it was by Nanshū…Takamori Saigo?”

“I don’t see those kanji in the explanation… However, I do see the characters ‘人’ and ‘く’ remaining.”

“Still, someone really ripped it apart meow…”

“Anyway, let’s ask the museum if they have original photos or something.”

Aoki and Kurutsu had no general disdain for literature. Kurutsu in particular felt close to writers, since one of her ancestors was a close friend of another celebrated author. That author taught German, hence the Germanic origin of Kurutsu’s surname. Though perpetually poor, he somehow always managed to secure sake for himself and munchies for his cat. Having grown up with such stories, Kurutsu felt affection for writers in general. She could easily add further anecdote without prompting: “They say the owner of this estate was a shy, kind person, but someone who could snap unpredictably,” meow.

However, there was one more thing bothering them.

“By the way, Kurutsu‑san, do you know why I insist on using Japanese which is my second language?”

“Because I’m bad at English, meow.”

“Kurutsu‑san, don’t you do English‑Japanese translation as a hobby?”

“Only classical horror, meow. Aoki‑chan, are you interested in that tattoo‑covered youth napping in that corner?”

“Yes. Should we arrest him for trespassing?”

“That’s fine, but I’m not touching him, meow, ew. I bet he have ticks, meow.”

003. The Singer from Marumaru Five and the Sunekos

In the tatami room marked Do Not Enter, an antique sofa sat—clearly not built for modern body sizes. On it lay a shirtless human man in his forties, covered in tattoos. The sofa, designed a hundred years ago for a much smaller frame, was far too small for him. His legs dangled over the edge, his large feet nearly touching the tatami floor. They were caked in mud, but beneath them lay a T-shirt he presumably had worn earlier—white, with a cute bunny character printed on it, now smudged with dirt from his feet. At least he’d tried not to dirty the floor.

“Nyaa, isn’t that the singing human-male from that foreign band that’s gotten really popular lately?”
Kurutsu, eyes wide and voice half-whispering, tilted her head.

“Ah, yeah, you're right. Though when you say ‘lately,’ you mean the last ten years or so, don’t you?” Aoki replied dryly.

“Of course, meaw. I’m a huge fan of Marumaru Five. That one’s Andy—the singer, meow.”

“Wow. I didn’t expect you to actually know his name.”

“Well, what can I say? I like their songs, meow.”

“So, what should we do with ‘Marumaru Andy’ here?”

“Looks like he wandered in drunk and passed out. There was a song about that, but I thought it was just lyrics, nya. Guess celebs really are all reckless like that.”

“Marumaru Five…”

“Also, yesterday... looks like he went on a date to the Fluffy Kingdom amusement park along this train line, nya. It’s on the news.”

Kurutsu held out her latest-model smartphone for Aoki to see.

“Hum… ‘Secret Date at Fluffy Kingdom with Supermodel Girlfriend’... Yep. That clinches it. Let’s arrest him.”
Aoki had recently broken up with a long-distance human boyfriend and had developed a certain coldness toward happy couples.

Kurutsu, on the other hand, looked positively giddy at the chance to arrest a pop star who wrote her favorite songs.

“Think he’ll sing ‘Shot the Cheating Bastard’ for us in the holding cell, meow?”

“If he’s cooperative, sure.”

“No! Arrest! No!”

Suddenly, a tiny creature leapt out from the shadows with a shout. It looked like a kitten, but somehow too hunched and round. An unmistakable aura of supernatural energy radiated from it, turning the air around it faintly blue.

“Oooh! A baby *Sunekosuri! What an adorable little thing!”

“How cute! I studied Sunekosuri in training, but I never thought I’d see one in the wild! Hi there, little guy—are you a fan of the tattooed hot guy?”

“No arrest! He’s my savior, nya!”

“Huh?”

Faced with the excited baby Sunekosuri, Kurutsu and Aoki exchanged puzzled glances.

*Sunekosuri is a small, mischievous creature from Japanese folklore. Its name literally means “shin-rubber,” and it’s said to sneak up at night to rub against people’s legs—especially on rainy or misty roads. Often harmless and even kind of cute, the sunekosuri doesn’t hurt anyone; it just surprises people by brushing against their shins, sometimes causing them to stumble a little. It’s typically described as looking like a small dog or cat, and is more playful than frightening.

004. "If Only This Were TenTails"

“If only he were TenTails...”
“But mama, you like listening Mammaru Five's songs too, right?”
“I do, but I’m not really interested in the singer. Still... if only he were TenTails.”
Detective Charu’s mom repeated the same words like a refrain. The CAT station’s holding cell was built solidly but kept comfortable. Since it was rarely used, the area outside the cell served as a simple break room—equipped with desks, chairs, a sofa, a TV, a microwave, and a fridge—where a few C.A.T. agents usually hung out. Charu and her mom stayed outside the bars, while inside sat a rare human—the singer from Mammaru Five.

The Mammaru Five singer was still asleep, likely suffering from a hangover, occasionally groaning and rubbing his stubbled chin. A faint smell of alcohol lingered around him.
“He must be hungover.”
“Stinkeey.”
“Yeah, he sure does stinks. Isn’t there a window we can open? There used to be one … never really thought of it before.”

Charu’s mom fiddled with the wall-mounted air conditioner, searching for a ventilation switch, but—finding none—simply turned on the cooler. Meanwhile, she reviewed Charu’s school homework, staring at the singer in the cell. Charu, still small child as a human, often had to redo school assignments—not because she got answers wrong, but because of her messy handwriting. Her mother found that irksome but told herself, “Fitting into the world matters,” and read on. Her tension relaxed as she worked.

“Huh? You didn’t write the answer here. That's not like you.”
“I just don’t understand it. For #1 and #2, it’s 4 using 'black cat counting' rule. So, what does #3 represent?”
“Maybe it’s someone who’s doing the counting?”
“Oh, I see.”
Charu grabbed her favorite glittery pencil and wrote the answer in her human “math drill notebook.”

A clank announced the door opening, and Officer Shamu peeked in.
“Hey, is there space in the neko-chigura?”
“There’s room for one. Why do you ask?”
“A cat-people allergic reaction—someone shifted into a bakeneko-like cat and can’t shift back. We gave them an epipen, but they’re still in panic mode, scratching.”
“Oh, poor thing.”
“Allergic to what?”
Charu’s golden eyes shone as she asked.
“I think wasabi. It triggered it last night at a high-end sushi place in Ginza, right after drinking sake with expensive mid-fatty tuna. She kept shifting between neko-bito form and full cat form, and her mind’s unstable. Thankfully, the chef knows neko-bito and overnighted a cage unit, then escorted her here this morning.”

Shamu replied crisply, then called out, “This way please!” Moments later, a large man carried a fitting-room–sized basket across. It was Mr. Ohkuma.

A wrestling gym and office sat adjacent to the C.A.T. building; usually in training, Ohukma had been brought by Chief Numata to “take a break and rescue a beauty.” The rescued beauty, inside the large basket and now hairless in half cat form, hissed angrily—there was no sign of charm. But Ohkuma, a big-hearted human, smiled gently, treating the rescue no differently whether it was a beauty, an old lady, or an old man.

“Sorry about this, Chief brought you in on short notice, Mr. Ohkuma.”
“No worries, she’s light. Though compared to my master, this neko-bito’s got no impact.”
“She’s light because she’s a supermodel in her human form, Patra. Very beautiful. By the way, how is your master Karin?”
“My master? She’s fine—full of energy, even thinking about returning to active wrestling.”
“Oh dear, that’s not good. If she went full neko-bito in the ring, people would get hurt.”

While Chief Numata and Mr. Ohkuka chatting, Patra transferred into the neko-bito in the holding cell. Then instantly, she turned to full human form.
“Anthony!” she cried, reaching through the bars toward the adjacent cell. But Anthony snored on without waking. When she saw his unmoving state, the supermodel’s expression crumpled. She shifted back into full cat form, licked her paws, curled up in a corner, and fell asleep.

“He was quite intoxicated last night, I hear.”
“Explains the smell and mess.”
Charu’s eyes lit with curiosity as she watched the snoring man.
“Oh, right—someone turned themselves in to the human precinct, saying they might have hit somebody. The drive-recorder captured it, with a Sune-kosuri in the footage. They sent us a copy.”
“That was me.”

A fair-skinned, cute boy next to Charu said and raised his hand. It was Cota, Charu’s friend since the 'Daruma case'. Today was let's do homework together day.

005. Kota the Sunekosuri Boy’s Scary Story

Oh, there you are! Isn't it?”

“Yeah. That’s me.”

“Ah, ran out—gotta look both ways!”

“See? When something rushes out, he stops. Sunekosuri really behaves like a cat.”

“Here! Look here!”

Cota excitedly pointed. On the screen, a tiny white shape darted across a dark road, and a large white blur rushed past, seemingly scooping it up.

“Whoa—Mr. Manmaru nailed it! But... is it really him?”

The Nekobito crew gathered around a small monitor for an impromptu viewing party.
“Got it, no doubt—clear footage of a Sunekosuri.”
As they watched the dashcam video, some jotted notes.

“But why was it in that spot?”

“I remembered a scary story,” Cota said. “So I went to see Mr. Neta.”

“A scary story?”

“You shouldn’t be out at night, you know.”

“But he a sune-kosuri. A yokai. Don't yokai go around at night?”

“You’re a sune-kosuri, Cota? But also go to human's school?”

“Yep. I go. My dad’s human—he’s a teacher.”

“Did your dad know you went out in the middle of the night?”

“Maybe he went to see his mom?”

“Nope. Mr. Neta.”

“Wasn’t Mr. Neta sleeping then?”

The adult Nekobito began chiming in all at once. In a nearby cage, a panicking supermodel who had reverted into cat form growled in distress. The holding room was in chaos.

Mr. Ohkuma, looking distressed, quietly slipped out the door while the adult cats continued their debate. But being large, Mr. Ohkuma was quickly spotted by Detective Charu and Cota, who both followed him out.

At the entrance of the next-door gym, the trio paused to watch a massive ball of muscle pass by. Then they headed to the vending machine and bought ice cream together.

“Mr. Ohkuma, you haven’t been visiting Mr. Neta lately.”

“Sorry... my training’s been intense.”

“Karirin-the-Master’s training is tough, huh?”

“The Darumas say they miss you.”

“So, what was that scary story Mr. Neta told you?”

Detective Charu shifted into her investigator mode and asked Cota again. Cota took a bite of his soda-flavored popsicle, then looked down and spoke softly.

“Well, Mr. Neta said... Pandaruman is being targeted.”

That shocked Mr. Ohkuma, who wrestled under the ring name Pandaman.

“Me?!”

“No, not Pandaman. Pandaruman. The picture book.”

“The picture book?”

“Ohh, Pandaruman! Super popular!”

“Yeah, really trendy lately.”

“Totally!”

Though Mr. Ohkuma didn’t follow all the details, but the children’s cheerful talk about books made him smile. But just then, he felt a powerful presence from the shadows and straightened up.

Behind them stood Karirin-the-Master, the terrifying wildcat trainer.

“There you are, Pandaman. If you're gonna eat ice cream, at least dip it in protein first—I told you—ah! Detective Charu!”

Though supposedly wearing a fearsome wildcat mask, Karirin’s real face was showing as she squealed in a high-pitched voice. Ever since the recent incident, she’d become a huge fan of the cute Detective Charu. And Charu, for her part, now saw Karirin as a new friend.

“Hi, Karirin-chan. Cota’s here too.”

“Oh, what a cute friend! So your name’s Cota?”

“Yup, I’m Cota! I love both Pandaman and 'Pandaruman'!”

“That’s so sweet! Lucky you, Ohkuma, having such adorable fans!”

Karirin grinned with her wildcat face, and a ghostly blue aura briefly rose from Cota’s back—whether from fear or excitement, even Detective Charu and Mr. Ohkuma couldn’t tell.

Soon, Karin also bought an ice cream and joined the trio. They chatted for a while about school and the 'Pandaruman' picture book. But as Cota finished his popsicle, he lowered his voice again.

“You know... the scary story? Mr. Neta said... both Pandarumon and Karirin-the Matser Wildcat are being targeted.”

“Targeted? Me and Pandaman? But we’re super strong!”

“Even against fluffy, cuddly enemies?”

“Fluffy...?!”

“Mr. Neta said... the Fluffy Kingdom is after both of you.”

Kota, who was already a bit fluffy and cuddly himself, turned pale and bit his lip.

006. The Fluffy Empire Expansion Plan

Though he earns plenty through passive income, Mr. Neta—a delinquent old man with a fondness for health and wabi-sabi—chooses to work as a shrine security guard. Lately, he’s caught wind of some suspicious developments whispered about in the local online economy circles concerning the Kingdom of Fluff.

“Would you believe it—they're trying to make ‘Pandalman’ all cute and market him as a character. Well, Ohkuma-kun’s gotten quite a few female fans recently, so his derivative work ‘Pandalman’ might actually sell.”

“Do you think us Mini Darumas will appear too?”

“A sweet and fluffy mini-me… how lovely…”

Mr. Neta and the two Mini Darumas, who lived in the guardroom, seemed quite positive about the idea. But it was utterly unacceptable to Kota, the yokai Sune-kosuri boy.

“Mr. Neta! If ‘Pandalman’ becomes all fluffy and sweet, he won’t be cool or strong at all! That’s not wabi or sabi! I hate it!”

As Kota cried, Mr. Inugami—who had been filling in for Ohkuma lately—hurriedly offered the boy a rice dumpling he’d bought for himself.

“Kinako or mitarashi—your pick.”

“Mitarashi.”

“The Fluffy Kingdom’s really reaching for some gritty characters now.”

“‘Pandalman,’ ‘Bakenecko Karirin,’ and ‘Gray Marurun’... Their enemies are monkeys, tanuki, and Professor Moriagatteko…”

“No worries—except for ‘Pandalman,’ there’s no way to make the others cute.”

“But I’m worried... What if Mukutscake Wars or Strange Tales: The Grudging Cat Rice Bowl get turned into heartwarming Fluff-Mo stories…”

“They’d never do that. The Mokorin mascots would be too scared if those characters got added. They’ll definitely leave them untouched…”

Seeing how troubled Kota looked, Mr. Neta patted him on the head.

“Still, this is an era where even national treasure teacups are turned into plush toys…”

“Whose side are you on, Inugami-kun?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Help, security officer!”

The door to the guardroom burst open, revealing a bald monk and a sharply part-haired Shinto priest.

“Ah, Tsuruda-san, and Shichimi-san. What’s the matter?”

“There’s been… a fight. An elderly foreign gentleman and a younger man…”

“There’s an injury! We need an ambulance!”

“That’s no good! Let me just call—ah, where’s my phone… oh, right here.”

Mr. Neta closed the internet news screen on his high-end large-display phone, hesitating between dialing emergency services and opening the camera app, as he stepped outside.

007. The Elderly Suspect

"Wait, So did that old man, Mr.Neta, got punched by someone?"
Karin, with her true cat face so-called “mask,”licked the ice cream around her mouth and asked cheerfully. With her strong sense of justice, Karin always got excited when it seemed like there might be a villain to chase down, which constantly made the gentle Mr.Ohkuma nervous.
"No, that's not it! Please listen properly!"
Since Catfolk Karin still had her lynx-like face on, Kota-kun's eyes naturally became a little round and fluffy, a soft bluish aura of yokai energy leaking from his puffed cheeks.
Serious and focused, Detective Charu held a notepad in one hand as he carefully organized the situation.
"So basically, 'Pandalman' is getting turned into an anime by the Fluffy Kingdom, and someone outside hit someone else?"
"That's right. An old man knocked out a younger guy."
"But it wasn't Mr. Neta who did the hitting, right? He was talking with Kota-kun."
Kind-hearted Ohkuma-san asked with concern, and Kota-kun responded with a beaming smile.
"Yeah, Neta-san wasn’t involved. He was busy taking bystander photos. I don’t have a phone, but he said he posted it somewhere."
"Huh."
Karin, who was connected with Neta through her bond with Ohkuma-san, quickly pulled out her smartphone and opened Neta’s social media page.
Among photos of mossy rocks at shrines, soapberry fruits, and selfies with his grandkids, there was one of a tall, handsome elderly man. In the picture, the man stood with arms crossed, flashing a cocky smile as he was surrounded by grim-looking men in black suits and a few good-natured regular police officers.
“Ah!”
Detective Charu gasped.
“Nyan? What is it, Charu-nyan? You know him?”
“…It’s TenTails!”
“TenTails?”
“This old man—he’s my mom’s favorite singer!”

008. Kurutsu’s Lamentation

Anyway, the fact that we caught that tattooed round guy was 100% luck. Originally, we were just here on request from the local police to protect the runaway Ittan-momen ghost sighting,” Kurutsu lamented from the passenger seat of the sky-blue classic car, sounding tired.

“Right. That’s what I heard too,” agreed Mitsuike, half-absentmindedly, his eyes darting around the city’s back alleys—partly due to “maybe-driving”—and for other reasons as well.

“That guy is hungover and passed out, unlikely to sing. As for the Ittan-momen sightings at that old house, it’s within our jurisdiction for Nyaandarism around here.”

“Uh-huh. Nyaandarism—it sounds fun as a concept.”

“Exactly. Then why is it always unrelated things like Marumaru Five or TenTails or those big foreign human singers? If it were local Ittan-momen or ghost Nyaandarism, it’d barely be our turf. But foreign humans—and big ones? That’s a diplomatic mess! Not a Catfolk jurisdiction—human jurisdiction!”

Kurutsu waved her half-clawed hand in the air, complaining theatrically. Mitsuike chuckled at the dramatics but played along.

“Well, younger people probably don’t know TenTails that much. At that point, maybe it’s a border‑line case? Anyway, there’s a graffiti report on a train car today… GPS from the station nav shows the location, too. Probably the so-called Schrödinger, a fake — what do you want to do? That spot is near a Frappuccino shop…”

“Nyaa, whatever! To the graffiti scene—go! And call Abhi‑chan and Pelsha from the hill.”

“Pelsha from the hill is a coroner—you know there’s no murder right?”

“The beauty of the train car is dead! Just call her!”

“That’s ridiculous. Well, Kurutsu-san, you panic when you're busy,” Mitsuike said with a laugh as he turned the wheel.
At that moment, Kurutsu’s phone began ringing. The eerie chorus of ‘Carminia Brania’ sounded. After listening to about four bars, Kurutsu—now fully alert—answered.

“Yes, this is Kurutsu! Meow? I can’t hear! What? An Ittan‑momen sighting?! Where? GPS? Ah—this red dot on the nav? Mitsuike‑chan, can you chase it?”

“Got it! Then, siren lights, please!”

“Meow!”

Kurutsu finally regained her energy, leaning into the backseat to grab the red emergency light. Mitsuike’s car is small, so it was stored in the rear.

“Oh—the Ittan‑momen dot disappeared.”

“Nya—what!?”

“It’s okay. They probably didn’t actually catch it. Let’s go chase Schrödinger.”

Mitsuike hummed as he steered away.

009. The Big Name in the Interrogation Room

enTails sat in the interrogation room, looking as if the metal folding chair was a work by a top designer—radiating an uncanny charisma as he relaxed. Calmly, in the voice adored by millions of fans, he began to explain his actions as if discussing a new song.

“Well, I treated my girlfriend terribly. If you’d been there, you’d have punched him too. Yes… you’re exactly the type of woman who can lay hands on a terrible man. But his date wasn’t someone like you. You see it, right?”

TenTails smiled at Aoki, and Aoki felt a slight dizziness. She had been assigned the interrogation because English was her first language, but his presence was overwhelming. She resisted the urge to ask for an autograph.

“Then, Mr. TenTails, may I confirm: you punched the man who was cutting in line at the soba shop?”

At that question, TenTails smiled, deep wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. He glanced at his open palm before looking back at Aoki.

“I love my wife.”

“Uh-huh. Good for you.”

“And I have a daughter. And a granddaughter. I cannot stand a man who treats women like that.”

“Treats women like that—how?”

“While in line, he criticized her clothes and even the restaurant choice. His tone was so harsh I first thought she’d done something wrong. I was surprised, so I had my interpreter ask if something was wrong. Then the man flicked her forehead—he said it was her fault. And he did it multiple times. The interpreter said she said it hurt, so I spoke up directly. The man then raised his voice and berated her further. So... I punched him.”

“Well, generally that’s a matter for the police…”

“Yes, that might have been the right call. Perhaps I was hasty. But in this country, repeatedly flicking a woman’s forehead—is that recognized as assault?”

“Um… well.”
It did seem like dating violence, but a forehead flick would unlikely prompt police action. Aoki felt like scratching her walls, and TenTails sensed it. He smiled and quoted Shakespeare.

“All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players.”
And your role is playing right now; your true feelings are with me—at that moment, you would’ve punched him too. It’s okay, I understand. So please, continue taking your notes. I will take responsibility. But… what about my concert in a few days?”

“Concert…!?”

“Yes, here in three days, and next week in Nagoya and Osaka. We’re in the middle of a world tour, so long delays are a problem…”

Aoki’s mind flashed with an imaginary Kurutsu shouting, “Then smash that jerk!” She said politely, “Excuse me,” and left the room, heading to tear off some toilet paper.

Once Aoki exited the interrogation room, TenTails took a carefully folded paper from his pocket.

“Well then... I may have to assign you a role to play as well.”

010. The Queen of the Fluffy Kingdom

The Fluffy Kingdom is a company that produces merchandise featuring internationally popular characters such as Honey Bunny, Mokorin, and many others. There is also a theme park of the same name that draws fans of Honey Bunny from all over the world, serving as a sort of sacred ground for them.

Behind the Fluffy Kingdom, behind the cloud-and-castle set, stands a castle-shaped office building. It is here that the Queen of the Fluffy Kingdom has her office.

"Ah, my beloved Fluffy Kingdom… I was thinking of launching a national museum collaboration by creating a 'Wabi-Sabi Division' led by Pandarman and the melancholic Shibushibu crew, but... no, I can’t think about any of that right now..."

In the Rococo-styled office decorated with white, curving furniture, a beautiful middle-aged woman paced in high heels, wearing a smartly tailored suit adorned tastefully with frills. She bit her lips, painted in the latest trendy color, in frustration. Then she sprayed a rose-scented air freshener into the room and inhaled deeply to calm herself down.

"What should I do… Lord Tentails has been… arrested… No, Moko, don’t cry…"

On the wall, in an ornate golden frame, hung a portrait of Tentails, painted as she looked about twenty years ago. For the sake of her dignity, it should be noted that this painting was commissioned twenty years ago to commemorate Fuwa Moko’s twentieth anniversary as a fan of Tentails. Thus, she was not trying to flatter Tentails by portraying her as younger than she was. In fact, she fully intended to commission a new portrait for the 40th anniversary of her fandom. But before that, the realization of the Wabi-Sabi Division had to come first. The Fluffy Kingdom would likely expand into an empire before the portrait was updated.

Next to Tentails’ portrait was an oil painting of Honey Bunny, the flagship character of the Fluffy Kingdom, framed in a more modern style. Beside it hung the original artwork of Pandarman and the Bewitching Cat Karirin. On Fuwa Moko’s desk were modern reinterpretations of national treasures rendered in a chic style, along with high–Wabi–Sabi photos cluttered across the surface.

“Oh, Moko-chan, what’s the matter?”

An elderly woman entered through the door, her white hair swept up and wearing a soft-colored kimono in formal visiting attire.

“Oh, how lovely. You’ve hung up a painting of Pandarman, I see.”

“Ah—Mother-in-law! I mean, um, Madam Tora! N-no, I mean, actually this is…”

Fuwa Moko panicked. She was planning to surprise her mother-in-law, Tora, for her 90th birthday by adding a Wabi-Sabi corner to the Fluffy Kingdom and featuring her favorite Pandarman as the centerpiece—but this was not the time for that to be discovered. Surprises were usually her forte.

“U-um, well, this is just…”

“Is it about Tentails? Such a shame. Still so young. Hitting someone, of all things... Ah, but Pandarman’s different, of course. That’s his job.”

Tentails was in her seventies, but today’s seniors were still quite youthful. For now, Fuwa Moko decided to abandon thoughts of her Fluffy Kingdom empire expansion plans, and in the process, regain her composure by throwing herself into the arms of her mother-in-law.

“Oh, Mother-in-law, I simply can’t take it anymore!”

“There, there... At times like this, sweets are the answer…”

With quiet sobs from Fuwa Moko and the calming presence of her mother-in-law Tora—who had been a fan of Ohkuma since his days as a sumo wrestler known as Pandarman—the two left the Rococo office and headed off to their favorite Japanese sweets shop.

011. The Good Deeds of the Train Yard Delinquents

"We're so sorry!"
Young men with hair dyed gold, brown, and purple bowed deeply on the gravel of the train yard, prostrating themselves before Kurutsu and Mitsuike. From the looks of them, they were in their late teens to early twenties—the prime age for mischief as a way of life. Seeing how their knees must hurt, Kurutsu first motioned for the three of them to stand up and said:

"Well, cleaning is a good thing, nya. But nya, there’s no point apologizing to us, nya."

At a rail yard near a residential area, a group of youths who looked like they'd be the type to spray graffiti had been arrested—for allegedly removing graffiti. They had spent the night scrubbing off graffiti from train cars, polishing the surfaces without touching any of the electrical systems, and even weeding around the tracks at dawn. A concerned neighbor reported the suspicious activity, station staff apprehended them for trespassing, and the case had been passed around like a hot potato. Eventually, it landed with CAT, even though it had originally been slated for investigation as a "Schrödinger's Vandalism" case. Now, Chief Numata was requesting assistance from the CIA.

"We’ll never do it again!" "Yeah, I mean, that sort of thing…"

A young man with a large piercing trailed off mid-sentence and collapsed, pressing his forehead to the ground.

"Aah, come on, just… stand up already, nya…"

The youths wouldn't listen, and Kurutsu, flustered, pulled out a pack of sesame-dried sardines from his pocket. Turning his back on the five-point-prostrating delinquents, he began his snack break. While munching on a dried sardine, he waved at a human male police officer who was idling nearby. Kurutsu, in his humanoid form, was cute enough to earn a smile and a wave in return.

"This is Mitsuike. Schrödinger’s been wiped clean. Completely. The whole train car is shiny and spotless. Can we call this one off as non-criminal? Talk to the rail authorities yourself—we don't handle human cases."

『Ugh, yeah… I know, but the Ministry of Foreign Affairs is…』

Chief Numata groaned on the other end of the line, sounding utterly drained. Feeling a bit sorry for him, Mitsuike softened his tone.

"Luckily, this yard has security cameras. So we’ll check the footage, and if there’s nothing borderline, we’ll hand it over to the human side. Oh!"

Something white—like a cloth—flashed across Mitsuike’s field of vision.

"Kurutsu-san! There it is! The Ittan Momen! I’m going after it!"

"Oh! For real, nya!"

"Eeeek!!"

The young men, arrested for their good deeds, clung together and trembled as if they'd seen something terrifying.

"I'm borrowing this, nya!"

Calling out to the colorfully-haired delinquents, Mitsuike jumped on a fat-tired bicycle and sped off at full tilt.

012. The Yellow Catfolk and the Frappuccino

A white cloth was indeed flying—fluttering gently, like clouds drifting across the blue sky, like a butterfly gliding on the wind.
The Ittanmomen seemed unaware of Mitsuike, who was pedaling furiously behind it on a bicycle.
Mitsuike, for his part, had no room to pay attention to anything else.
He obeyed the traffic lights, followed the road signs, and avoided the shoulder since it was dangerous, instead sticking to the edge of the roadway meant for vehicles.

“Ah, this is going nowhere, nya!”

“I’ll go!”

“Who are you, nya?!”

A yellowish catfolk dashed past Mitsuike.
He felt a twinge of regret at not having noticed her presence earlier, but was quickly struck by her incredible speed.
She flashed an ID, and before he knew it, she had already moved several meters ahead.
Deciding to leave it to her, Mitsuike tossed a GPS tracker toward the catfolk, slowing down his bike.
The tracker appeared to have stuck to her tail.
Confirming the signal on his own device, Mitsuike began looking for a bike parking area.

Luckily, he had ended up in a redeveloped and trendy station-front district popular with young people.
The parking fees were on the higher side, but he found a spot quickly and sent the location to HQ.
Humming to himself, he began following the GPS route that was being displayed.

But then he noticed—it was showing a location near the next station over.
He hurried back to the train station and, once there, bought the newly-released, seasonal Frappuccino he had been wanting to try ever since reading about it in Catfolk Business News.
Then he boarded the train.

013. Schrödinger’s Rat

"Heyyy, sorry to keep you waiting!"
"You're late!"

By the time Mitsuike finally arrived at the spot where the GPS signal had stopped, the sky had dimmed a little and the sun was nearing the horizon behind the city buildings. The location was an alleyway just off a main street—a once-bustling area now mostly lined with shuttered shops. There stood a humanoid cat-person who looked exhausted, a woman covered in paint, and a baby-faced young man who was busily wiping the paint off with a rag.

On the wall wedged between two closed storefronts, a large mural had been painted. It featured the silhouette of a big man resembling Panda Man, a daruma-style police officer, and a giant price tag. As the woman confronted the cat-person, she called over her shoulder:

“Cedric, not now.”
“But—”
“He’s a cat. Don’t underestimate him.”

She spoke in a restrained tone and pulled Cedric’s hand away from the thin, whip-like pink tail he had been diligently wiping.

Mitsuike gasped.
A Rodentia!　A mouse-person.

Now that she looked closely, she could see that the woman had fine, whisker-like hairs on her face, and the young man in the brown hoodie had faint brown stubble on his cheeks. And the yellow cat-person with a taser aimed at them—likely a cheetah—was tall, lanky, and clearly exhausted.

Mitsuike wasn’t quite sure what was going on, so she pulled out her phone, snapped a photo, and sent a video to her team, along with her current location and her opinion of the seasonal mackerel miso frappuccino.

> "Who are these people? Also, mack-frap is actually pretty good."
"That's Chita from the Art Crimes Division."
"Too sweet for me."
"Those from the Rat Empire?"
"Feels like Schrödinger style, nya."
"The boy looks like someone from that movie."

A series of random reactions arrived, confirming that the team was on their way.

In front of Mitsuike stood the mural with the price tag and three tense figures.

“Is that rag... alive?”
came a comment from Chief Numata.

Mitsuike took a closer look. The rag in Cedric’s hand was fluttering wildly despite the absence of wind. Alarmed, she set her mack-frap atop a utility box painted with flowers and circled behind Cedric in the brown hoodie.

Peering at the rag in Cedric’s hand, she saw that the paint it had absorbed was now swirling on the surface, forming letters:

"Help me."

“It is alive! Wait—was that the flying cloth from before?”

Startled, Mitsuike blurted it out. The rat-woman turned to face her. She looked like Audrey Hepburn. Cedric, come to think of it, did resemble an actor from a film—but not the main character. More like a really kind sidekick. But probably not him.

“Cedric, could you give me that rag? That’s actually what I was tracking.”
“Huh?”
“There was a report about a rogue Ittanmomen—a flying cloth spirit. I need to return it to the sanctuary.”

When Mitsuike explained, Cedric smiled as if a weight had been lifted.

“Oh, sure.”
“Cedric!”
“Don’t move!”
“Okay, okay, everyone, let’s calm down a bit.”

Cedric, the tension-stricken rat-woman, the exhausted Chita, and Mitsuike—who really just wanted to go back to her frappuccino—all tried to sort out the situation.

“You guys are the anonymous art collective, Schrödinger, right? And Chita’s chasing you for... something, I’m guessing.”

Chita and the two rat-people nodded.

“And me, I don’t want my boss getting more paperwork because of you, so can I just take the Ittanmomen and pretend I caught it myself?”

“Uh, well... I guess that’s not... not exactly wrong...”
“Sorry I got it dirty, but sure. Just be careful.”

Cedric handed over the Ittanmomen with a gentle smile.

“But really, be careful, it—ah!”

The Ittanmomen sprang to life and shot out of Cedric’s hands, wrapping itself around Mitsuike’s face.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I didn’t think it still had that much energy! What do we do? Bianca! Mr. Cheetah-Cop! Help!”

Cedric shouted in panic, calling out to the rat-woman and the yellow cat-person for help.

014. Meditation and "EAT PLEASE"

If he had any say in the matter, the legendary rockstar—known across the country for his undying love of noodles—would’ve at least eaten the soba before throwing the punch.

It wasn’t a famous shop, but came highly recommended by fans. What’s more, a nearby shrine-temple hybrid housed a well-known piece of religious art. He’d wanted to see that too.
But now here he was, sitting cross-legged on a folding chair in a cramped little room, trying to meditate.

“Darling, why?”
He could almost see his wife’s face, asking.
Ah, sorry. The truth is... well, no. A gentleman makes no excuses.

Unusually unable to focus, he cracked open one eye and drifted back to reality—only to find a tiny kitten and a kitten-like something snuggled up asleep in his lap, mimicking his meditation pose.
He smiled in surprise. The air was filled with the warm aroma of dashi broth.
On the table sat a large bowl, no longer steaming. The soba inside was soggy, but beside it were a pair of disposable chopsticks wrapped in paper that bore a child’s scrawl:
“EAT PLEASE.”

“Well then... a kitten-child, a kitten-esque spirit, and cold soba.”

Grinning at the challenge of eating soggy noodles without waking the children, the legendary man gently draped his expensive cardigan over them, then reached for the bowl.
It was unusual, difficult to eat, and… still soba.
And soba, after all, is pretty good.

015. Foggy Vision and the Mackerel Frappuccino

Mitsuike shook her head a few times, trying to clear her foggy vision and muddled thoughts. But it felt like something clung to her—her field of view remained pale and blurry, like driving through fog.
She had an overwhelming urge—toward something—but she didn’t know what. Then a voice echoed.

"Look, there’s a tired person over there."

Through the hazy blur, Mitsuike glanced around.
A concerned-looking Nezubito in a brown hoodie.
A beautiful Nezubito woman, covered in paint and bound in handcuffs.
A long, exhausted-looking Nekobito.

Ah—I just want to be kind! she thought.
The disembodied voice gave further instructions:

"See? There’s an energizing drink on that flower painting. Share it with them."

“Nope.”
Still, the desire to perform a good deed was strong. Mitsuike pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and tossed it at the paint-covered Nezubito woman.

“Here ya go, sis—wipe your face with this.”

The Nezubito looked startled as she caught it. The yellow Nekobito beside her gave Mitsuike an exasperated look.
Something still felt stuck to her face. The voice came again.

"Look at that athlete-type Nekobito. He's exhausted. Share the kind of drink you’d see at a marathon aid station."

Unfortunately, Mitsuike really liked the Miso Mackerel Frappuccino she’d been told to share.
She also hated being ordered around by anyone but her boss, and it irritated her that she couldn't think of another good deed to do instead.

"Now, give them that drink—"

“I said NO! The saba frap is MINE!”

She snapped, tearing whatever was clinging to her face. Something shrieked in protest as she ripped it away, but she ignored it and lunged toward her drink.

"MY Saba-péchi!!"
She sucked on the green straw, paused…

“…Ugh… it’s melted…”
Too sweet, and not that tasty when warm, she decided.
Turning to Chita, who looked like he couldn’t be bothered to stand:

“Hey, Chita-san, wanna sip? Bet you need some sugar.”

“Ah… sure. Thanks. You okay?”

“I’m fine. Wanna talk at the station?”

As Mitsuike said this—half-thinking Sorry, Chief—Chita, slightly revived from the saba frap, glanced around and replied:

“I’d love to, but… looks like we’re surrounded.”

Chita sipped the bizarre drink and eyed the CAT members watching them from the back of the alley, and the muscular Nezubito soldiers blocking the other exit.

“…Yikes,” Mitsuike muttered.
She looked left and right—CAT on one side, bulked-up Nezubito soldiers on the other. They reminded her of the troops in The Mukuts-Cakes War Chronicles, which Charu used to read. All muscles, no nonsense.

“…Wait a sec. You a Nezumi Kingdom princess or something?”
She downgraded her mental rating of the frappuccino to 4 stars and questioned the beautiful Nezubito woman.

“I-I’m not! I’m A—”

“Ahem! N-no, she’s not! I—I’m here to promote my new book!”
Cedric blurted out, desperate and loud.

“I draw for the Pandaruman picture books!”

“You mean the unauthorized fan work that blew up with kids and mildly annoyed Karin-san?”

“W-well, the publisher says it’s fine, and Karin-san did say, like, ‘whatever,’ so probably okay…”

“Whaaat, cool! Put me in too!”

“Sure thing!”

“Make me pretty.”

“…I, uh—”

Their hasty negotiation continued as the nervous Nekobito and muscle-bound Nezubito soldiers watched on in tense silence.

016. Yonako Tora

In a pseudo-Rococo-style lavish room behind the “Flufffluff Kingdom,” Fuba Moko sits on a chaise longue beneath a portrait of the Ten Tails, weeping bitterly.
Gently handing her the finest tissue, Yonako Tora speaks softly.
“Hey, Moko-chan. I have something to tell you.”

Still reeling from the shock of the Ten Tails’ arrest, Moko wipes her mascara-smeared tears with the tissue and turns toward her.
“Yes, Mother-in-law. What is it?”

Moko had always adored her mother-in-law. Even decades ago, after her husband left behind the cryptic note “It’s the fear, after all” and disappeared, Yonako had remained her pillar of support. When the Ten Tails were arrested, it was Yonako she instinctively turned to for comfort.

“You see, Moko-chan… I’m not human.”

“Yes, I am aware. You come from the esteemed Feline family…”

Tora gives a troubled smile.

“My son—well, my great-grandson may have said otherwise, but…”

“G-great-grandson?!”

“Yes, I’ll be not ninety, but two hundred years old next month.”

“T-two hundred?!”

“And also, I’m not a Catfolk…”

“If you're turning 200, we should throw a huge celebration!”

“No, no, that’s not important.”

“But still…”

“Please, just listen. I’m a Rodentia. In other words—a Mousefolk.”

“Ehhhh?! But you're the great picture book author Yonako Tora…”

And finally, Fuba Moko realizes.
The fine shimmering whiskers that sometimes appear on her petite mother-in-law’s face, the pearly gleam of her front teeth, the ever-present intimidating bodyguards—who also have whiskers—and most of all, her signature works: Rolling Rice Ball, The Mouse’s Wedding, and Mouse Reversal and Yotaro.

“M-m-mother-in-law! Then, does that mean you’re from the Mouse Empire…?”

“No, I’m merely a humble Yamato mouse. That imperialistic nonsense… no, wait, that’s not the point. I’m in trouble. And I need the help of a Catfolk like you.”

“A C-Catfolk?”

Even amidst her shock and panic, Moko feels a spark of happiness that her mother-in-law is finally relying on her.

017. The Noisy Room Next to the Interrogation Room

Meanwhile, at CAT Headquarters, the interrogation of Tentails was still underway.

“Ahhhhh… Who gave Tentails-sama soba…?”

On the other side of the one-way mirror from the interrogation room, Aoki, Charu-mama, and Numata were each tearing apart the emergency vine-scratching table—for their own personal reasons. The observation room next to the interrogation chamber had turned into a slightly crowded viewing gallery.

“Huh? Soba wasn’t okay?”
Karine asked airily, and the idle-looking Anichi offered support.

“There were no allergy reports submitted.”
“Hmmm, I’ve never heard of Tentails having a soba allergy, but… well, it was warm soba, so maybe it’s fine… Wasabi might be a problem though…”

Charu-mama, a devoted fan of Tentails, was visibly on edge both at the sight of soba being eaten on top of her child and at her child dozing peacefully on the lap of the great poet. Aoki, who had turned pale beneath his gray fur after losing sight of the two kids who had taken over the interrogation room, barely squeezed out a trembling voice.

“Why are there two children in there?!”

“Charu-chan’s an investigator, right? I thought Aoki-san’s scary intellectual vibe plus Charu-chan’s katsudon operation could coax out a confession…”

“What the heck is a ‘katsudon operation’?!”
“Oh, that? It’s a technique where—”
“And why is Mr. Neda here?!”

“I invited him. I heard he’s good at making soba.”
“Well, I’m still an amateur, really. I’m taking lessons at a shop nearby though…”
“Oh wow, you start from the flour?”
“Yeah, but it’s tricky. The flour quality really makes a difference…”

While Aoki sat pale in his human form, Neda began explaining soba-making techniques to Anichi. Just as the mood began to slacken, an emergency dispatch alarm rang out from every Nekobito’s smart watch.

“Ah, crap! Charu’s device!”
“It’s okay, she doesn't have one yet.”
“Ah, no… She’s using my old one.”

Beyond the one-way mirror, just as Tentails was placing his bowl down and performing a polite “thank you for the meal” gesture, he seemed to notice something. He gently lifted his cardigan and addressed his lap. The kitten and the kitten-like sunekosuri leapt down and transformed into Nekobito form, starting a cheerful conversation. Tentails also responded with a warm smile.

“They seem to be doing just fine over there. But you guys, aren’t you supposed to be heading out?”

When Karine spoke to Numata and Aoki, who had been pressing themselves against the mirror with their fur standing on end, they dashed out through the door that Anichi helpfully opened.

“Charu-mama, aren’t you going too?”
“Nyaa… I used to be an investigator, but now I’m just a civilian…”

Charu-mama’s attention was entirely absorbed by her child, exchanging smiling words with Tentails, and Karine’s question barely registered in her ears.

018. The PDA Couple and the Tiger Tattoo

”Why does it always end up like this?! PDA* couples don’t need surveillance—they need to be dumped back into the wild!"

In the CAT holding cell, a glamorous middle-aged pop star and a supermodel are repeating “I’m sorry” and “Me too,” over and over, separated by bars and thoroughly irritating their guard, Kurutsu.

"Come on now, Kurutsu-san, relax. It's alright. Numata-san said he'd handle the paperwork once he's back," said Ohkuma, trying to soothe her.

But Kurutsu only grew more agitated, frustrated she hadn't been able to respond to the emergency call.

"This is impossible! Mitsuike just disappears, Tentails is playing with kids, and the pop-star guy here is doing Romeo and Juliet with his girlfriend! I’m coughing up hairballs !”

"R-Romeo and Juliet is tragic but beautiful..." Ohkuma offered gently.

"It’s only adorable and heartbreaking when it’s angsty teens! Not hungover middle-aged men with scruffy beards!"

“Pffft, hilarious,” muttered Karin, laughing while watching a completely unrelated video, her ears twitching as she listened.

In the cell, the middle-aged couple continued their syrupy exchange.

“Oh, forgive me, Patra…”

“I thought you already knew I was a Nekobito…”

“No, not at all… That’s why I was so shocked…”

“Wait, seriously?! Then who did you think that tiger tattoo was for?!”

“W-what?”

“That tiger tattoo! You got it after we started dating! If not for me, then for what Nekobito?!”

The supermodel was now fully in angry Nekobito mode again.

“I-It’s a misunderstanding! It’s from a picture book I love…”

“A picture book?!”

“I-It’s classic! And cool!”

“Really? A kids’ book?”

“L-Lately, Schrödinger’s done a parody of it…”

“Oh yeah? Schrödinger’s cool. What kind of parody?”

“Well, it’s about a tiger that fights a giant cow to help his mouse friend… Schrödinger drew a version of it at a tiger sanctuary, and it kind of sparked this whole movement for tiger conservation…”

“Huh. That’s actually kinda cool. So? What’s the drawing like, darling?”

Karin, now bored, commented, “Guess they’re back together,” and turned to see if Kurutsu would give another entertaining outburst. But Kurutsu had gone quiet.

“A tiger… and a mouse…”

“What is it, Kurutsu-san?”

“Yonyago… Yonya… Nyaaah! Yonyago Tora!”

“You mean... Tora Yonyago?”

“Yes! The picture book artist!”

“Oh yeah, nostalgic! I used to love The Mouse and the Broad Bean Tree.”

“Broad beans don’t grow on trees, nyahaha—wait, no, the point is, that round guy’s tattoo is by Tora Yonyago, right?”

“Ah, yeah! That’s definitely her work!”

“Ohh, Tora Yonyago. Zodiac Wars, I loved that too. Come to think of it, Mukutsukakies had a similar style…”

“Zodiac Wars—I loved that too!”

“Oooh, as expected from my apprentice,” Karin said with a satisfied nod.

“I-I'm honored...!” Ohkuma trembled with emotion, clearly moved.

Fed up with the lovefest, Kurutsu stormed out, shouting, “Keep an eye on this dumb couple and make sure they don’t run off!”

*Public Display of Affection (PDA) refers to physical expressions of intimacy between individuals in public view. While what's considered acceptable varies across cultures and contexts, it generally includes actions like holding hands, hugging, and kissing. Some organizations may also have rules limiting or prohibiting PDA.

019. The Mouse Soldiers, the Princess, and Sleepy

019. The Mouse Soldiers, the Princess, and Sleepy Chita

"Everyone!"
At Princess Bianca Schrödinger’s delicate voice, the mouse soldiers stirred uneasily.

"It’s all right... Stand down! I said, stand down! This time, we kneel before the cat... It’s frustrating, I know, but everything will be fine, I promise..."
With a firm voice, the fair Mouse Princess called out to the tense mouse soldiers. Pale yet graceful, Bianca’s beauty alone explained the loyalty she inspired in them. They lowered their weapons for now—but as Chita approached Bianca, tension once again rippled through the burly group.

“See? Like this… No resistance.”
Bianca obediently held out her pale, paint-like white arms to Chita.

“Come on, I’m not actually arresting you or anything,” Chita said. “I did put handcuffs on you, though… I mean, you scratched me!”

“Huh? You’re not arresting me?”
Chita shook her head and turned to Mitsuike. “What about your department?”

“We’ll have to check with Chief Numata first.”

“I’ll technically arrest you for assaulting an investigator, but since you only scratched me, you’ll be released right away. No charges.”

“Oh, but if you do charge me, that’d actually give me more street cred. Getting busted sounds kind of cool…”

“Really? Want us to charge you, then? But honestly, I’d rather say we never arrested you. That way your identity stays secret, too. Still want the whole arrest-and-prosecution package?”

“Uh… no, maybe not. I am a children’s book author, after all…”

“Cedric, are you betraying me?!”

“Uh… Oh—Wes!”

Just then, the white cloth Mitsuike had torn up earlier fluttered weakly through the air, splitting into countless shreds. In an instant, the fragments swooped down upon the ranks of mouse soldiers.

“Waaahhh!!”
The soldiers cried out and tried to swat the pieces away, but the delicate strips clung stubbornly to their whiskered faces. As soon as one landed on a soldier, he would suddenly change expression—and dart off in a random direction. One by one, the soldiers scattered… and were gone.

“What the nyan just happened…?”

“That looked like… maybe…”

“Traitors!!” Bianca cried.

“Bianca, calm down! I’m sorry, but…”

“Oh Cedric… It’s all right. We can’t have the creator of Pandarman getting arrested… But the Experimental Rats... they’re gone…”

“Okay then,” said Chita. “I’ll take off the cuffs, but come with me, please. You’re not under arrest—but we need your help sorting out this pile of forgeries.”

“Forgeries?”

“Yeah. The quality’s iffy, but since people admire your work—or see it as an investment—tons of knockoffs are floating around. It's a pain to authenticate them all. If you could tell us which are real and which aren’t, that’d save a ton of time.”

“But wouldn’t that be a confession?”

As soon as Mitsuike said it, Chita shot him a deadly glare.

“Oops… So anyway! Did you hear they’re selling Tuna-Kama-puccinos at Tsukiji now?”

“Fish isn’t really my thing… I’d prefer cheese…”

Despite Chita’s glare, Bianca—secretly a fan of limited edition goods—found herself joining the conversation.

“As for sweets, I still think Pandarman Polar Bear Edition is best…”

Then, Chita calmly removed the cuffs from Bianca, slapped them onto Mitsuike and Cedric, and connected the chain to her own ankle. She lay down and began to doze off—apparently exhausted from running so much.

020. Tentails’ Tail

In the interrogation room of CAT Headquarters, Tentails is teaching yoga poses to the children. They giggle as they easily pull off the moves, or tumble over laughing when they fail. From behind the one-way mirror, Charu’s mom watches with dreamy eyes.

This is being recorded, right? I’ll ask for a copy later. But just in case they don’t give it to me… I’d better film it myself.
She makes a mental note and adjusts the audio output so her phone can capture the sound better. Then she realizes something.

“Wait a sec… Charu-nyan’s not speaking English… is that Cat-speak…?”

All three of them are casually speaking in fluent Cat-speak, and just as naturally using their tails to assist with posing.

Charu’s mom stops filming.

“So it’s true... Tentails is really a snow leopard... Kyaa, look at that tail, it’s so fluffy…”

She presses herself to the one-way mirror, careful to avoid reflecting any tails or feline eyes in the photo she snaps. It’s a delicate balance of fan discretion and 100% intent to make this her phone wallpaper.

“Ahh, Charu’s grandpa might get jealous…”

Suddenly, with a loud clack, the observation room door bursts open and Kurutsu stumbles in with a dramatic “Fugyaaa!”

“Wh-what’s going on?! Oh, um… that’s… that’s the guy, right…”

But Kurutsu doesn’t seem to notice Tentails’ tail at all—more concerned about barging in on what wasn’t an empty room.

“Oh, Charu Investigator’s honored mother… I didn’t realize you were here.”

“Yes, well, it’s my day off today…”

“I hate to impose on Investigator Charu, but… may I summon Tentails to the Chigura? I want to get a statement from that lovesick pair.”

“By all means…”

Kurutsu presses a button on the wall and speaks into the mic to the interrogation room.

“Charurin, can I borrow the room? I need to get a statement from the round couple.”

Investigator Charu gives a sign of acknowledgment and gestures for Tentails and Kota-kun to leave the room. Kota skips out happily, while Tentails glides out with majestic composure.

“Oh, without handcuffs…”

“It’s fine, no worries. A gentleman doesn’t run.”

Charu’s mom silently salutes Kurutsu in admiration—her secret heroine.

021. That’s All from the Scene

"I'm concerned about the similarities between Yonago-Tora's work and Pandarman. Also, Aoki, come back."
That message from Kurutsu had just gone out on the team comms. Meanwhile, the other members of CAT were busy securing Schrödinger, photographing murals and spray-painted messages, and collecting evidence.

"Chita-san, wake up. You can sleep in the car. Your suit’s all wrinkled,"
Shamo shook Chita, who had returned to feline form and was snoring curled up on the roadside, still in his suit.
Chita just curled up tighter in response.

"Aargh, forget it. Aoki-san, let's go."
"Ugh… for someone from the CIA, he’s such a moody cat..."
Aoki muttered, still thinking about Karin, who had been in the adjoining room of the interrogation block.

"Why are all big catfolk so go-my-own-way… so maverick..."

Elsewhere, Mitsuike was casually chatting with Bianca and Theodoric, preparing to escort them voluntarily.
"So hey, Bianca-chan, would you eat a real taiyaki if it was cheese-flavored?"
"Oh, I actually like that," Theodoric replied.
"Really? What about saba-fry, Theo?"
Mitsuike chuckled as he removed their cuffs and guided the pair toward his tiny vintage car.

Meanwhile, Chief Numata noticed a call from an old friend lighting up his phone screen and answered happily. Lately, he’d only been getting calls from the Foreign Ministry and CIA, so this one had him in good spirits. He climbed into one of the police vehicles stationed around the scene.

"Hey, Moko-chan?! Long time no see! What’s up?"
Numata and Nozomi had been classmates back in middle school. He wasn’t quite aware that Fuwa was a Tentails fan, though he had recently noticed Nozomi’s social media was nothing but crying cat posts and had grown a bit concerned.

"Wait, what? Your step-grandchild’s missing…? Sure, I can look… but right now I’m kind of—"

"Excuse me, Chief."
Shamo called from the other side of the vehicle.

"What is it? I'm—"

From Shamo’s tense expression, Chief Numata sensed something serious and leaned out of the car to take a look.

A large number of rat soldiers were returning to the scene. Their faces were vacant, their footsteps heavy. Some were even letting out strange groaning sounds.
A new tension rippled through the scene that had just begun to relax.

022. Kurutsu’s Unintelligible English

"Thou, who didst hurl thy mortal frame beneath the wheels possessed of their own will, in a desperate bid to save the fabled beast Sunekosuri—didst thou then shatter the leaning gate of the ancient manor, driven by... by what, pray? Speak, or be forever damned in thy silence."

The shirtless, hungover man could only gape as Kurutsu, in human form, uttered what sounded like a curse in heavily feline-accented English. Kurutsu was doing his best to conduct an interrogation in his own vocabulary, but it quickly became clear that his archaic horror-novel-style English wasn’t going to cut it with a pop star.

"What are you even talking about? Did I do something? Where’s Patra?"

Anthony, a member of the pop group Manmaru Five, shot off a series of questions in English, clearly confused. Kurutsu could understand the questions, but responding fluently was another matter.

"Thou hast trespassed upon forbidden ground, and thus findest thyself ensnared. Declare now—by what cause didst thou defy the ancient interdiction, and for what dark purpose? Speak, O prisoner of our grasp, or else shall—

Mrrrowrgh!
I can’t interrogate in English, meow!! Where’s Aoki?!"

"Hey, why not have Tentails translate for us?"

"WOW!"

The kitten-shaped Agent Charu, who had been listening with sparkling eyes beside Kurutsu, suddenly spoke. Anthony leapt back in surprise.

"Be still! For I, too, who sit before thee, am an inquisitor—uh, I mean, an investigator..."

"No!! This cannot be real!!"

"See? Now he’s totally confused."

"Was this how people reacted when they found out Patra was a Catfolk too? Poor Patra, meow."

"Patra was chatting with Tentails just a moment ago. Patra talk Tentails."

"What!? THAT Tentails!? The sexy old grandpa!?"

"My, my, someone’s flustered. Well, Tentails is a handsome silver fox, after all. Patra might fall for him, meow."

Kurutsu said with a teasing grin, and Agent Charu happily added:

"My mama says he’s super cool too, meow."

"Alright, let’s have him translate for us…"

Seeing Anthony on his knees, visibly shaken, the now-human, adorable-looking Charu gave him a sweet smile.

"Tentails will translate your English for you."

Anthony was even more stunned when the little girl who appeared out of nowhere spoke to him in English.

"What…!?"

023. Return of the Experimental Rats

Large Ratfolk soldiers with vacant expressions emerged from the shadows, sluggishly surrounding the CAT agents, the artistic princess, and the picture book illustrator. In their hands gleamed long rods and metallic tools. Some were covered head to toe in cloth, masks, and gloves. Not a single one responded to the princess’s pleas. Instead, ghostly murmurs filled the shuttered, silent streets, like whispers rising from the underworld.

“Experimental Rats!! Why won't you answer me?!”

Princess Bianca shouted with all her might, but her voice was swallowed by the chorus of murmurs. Suddenly, a manhole cover began to rattle. The circle of rats tightened. The CAT agents and the two Ratfolk were pushed closer and closer to the mural wall.

“Why?! Why won’t you answer me?!”

“Look out!!”

A rat soldier lunged at Bianca, brandishing a stick. Cedric shoved her out of harm’s way, and Mitsuike leapt atop him to shield them both. The rat soldier trampled over them without pause.

“OW! You stepped on my tail, you little—!”

Enraged, Mitsuike unleashed her Cat Claw attack.

“Ow! Sorry!!”

The rat soldier screamed but charged onward, ignoring the blood pouring from his wound, and rushed toward the wall. A commanding voice rang out:

“Once more!! My friend, once more!!”

In unison, the rat soldiers bellowed:

**“NO GRAFFITI!!”**
**“NO BROKEN WINDOWS!!”**

They sprayed detergent and graffiti remover on the mural, scrubbing it with deck brushes and wiping it down with rags. The beautiful painting of Pandarman that had adorned the wall was erased in seconds.

“My artwork…”

Bianca Schrödinger collapsed to her knees, weeping.

“I thought you were my fans…”

Meanwhile, the Catfolk, who had been in their fighting stances, stood stunned, weapons lowered, silently watching the rat soldiers wipe away the mural.

“What the…? Mitsuike, are you okay?”

“They’re just like… those delinquent boys…”

As she watched the rat soldiers, now picking up litter from the hedges with obsessive precision, Mitsuike muttered:

“The same… That warped sense of justice… The same thing that possessed me…”

024. "Just a Moment"

Mitsuike walked toward the car where Chief Numata and Aoki were stationed, the atmosphere having shifted to that of a cheerful cleanup effort.

“Hey, Aoki-saaan. Is that really an Ittanmomen?”

“Ah, just a moment, please.”

“Yes, Mitsuike-chan, it’s an ittan moment. Take a look,” said Chief Numata, overlaying Aoki’s comment as she gestured at the monitor Aoki was peering into.

“Chief… puns don’t really suit stylish high-middle-agers.”

“Oh, but cute puns are stylish and charming. Anyway, look here—this missing person… we had Ani-chan at the station sketch a likeness earlier. Don’t you see him over there?”

“Ah, that’s Cedric-kun. But it’s hard to say just from a sketch. Who’s the missing person, anyway?”

“He’s the grandson of a friend’s stepmother. Apparently, he’s gone missing… Yonako Ricepudding Cedric. Doesn’t that kid over there look like him? Though I suppose that’d be too convenient.”

“Yeah, he does look like him, but it’s hard for a Nekobito to tell Nezumibito apart… I mean, he kind of looks like that background actor from that movie. But hey, that Nezumi-hime called him ‘Cedric’ earlier.”

Mitsuike glanced toward Cedric-kun, who was gently comforting the crying Bianca, and commented. Aoki compared the sketch again and nodded in agreement.

“Yonako Ricepudding Cedric. Yeah, that’s got to be him. He seems to be the princess’s bodyguard.”

“He’s going around using his real name? That’s pretty chill of him. But hey—was that thing really an Ittanmomen? Do Ittanmomen even go around doing community service?”

Aoki looked away from Cedric-kun and scanned the surroundings, but his serious expression didn’t yield any answers.

“I’m not really a yokai expert, so I can’t say for sure… Probably not… but who knows. We should ask Kurutsu-san about that. Huh? Where is Kurutsu-san?”

“She’s holding down the fort, directing the Manmaru Five shoot.”

Chief Numata replied with a cheerful smile, but Aoki put a hand to his head.

“Aaaah, Kurz-san’s definitely mad…”

“Wait, isn’t Kurutsu-chan a Manmaru Five fan?”

“She listens to the music, but doesn’t care about the people who sing it.”

“Huh, guess that’s a thing.”

“So, can I go ahead and pick up the two Nezumibito and Chita-san and head back?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. The Cleanup Rats… well, no reason to stop community service. They’ll probably break up on their own once they’re tired.”

025. The Mouse, the Cat, and the Thicket I — Bianc

025. The Mouse, the Cat, and the Thicket I — Bianca’s Testimony

—Your name?

I'm Bianca Schrödinger. This isn't an arrest, right? So, I’d prefer not to use my real name… that’s okay, isn’t it? Ah, this list—give me a moment. Hmm, these pictures—no, that one’s not me. Cedric hasn’t been involved in that many. Look a bit more carefully for mine. The Experimental Rats’ records are actually pretty thorough.
Experimental Rats? Oh, they’re sort of like my personal guard, or vassals, you could say… they’ve supported my family for generations… ah, I can’t say more than that.

—Are you and Cedric a team?

Yes, I’ve been working with Cedric for the past few years. Though, I’m not sure I’d call it a “team.” He doesn’t really take part in the actual drawing.
But his art, how should I put it—it’s good at grabbing people’s attention. I like it too.
My drawings tend to be a bit too sarcastic and people say they’re hard to understand, but when that happens, he gives me tips on how to make them more digestible.
Still, he seemed to like my style—my biting satire and the way I’d go out to draw in places that matched the mood of the piece.
Then one day, somehow, he showed up while I was drawing and asked to become my apprentice.
I didn’t want to attract attention, so I brushed him off and left, but the next time, he showed up at the new site with a huge stepladder, a backpack full of spray cans, and a change of clothes.
So I told him I don’t want an apprentice—it’s a hassle—but if he could find the next site himself, he could bring me a piece.
He brought me a picture book.
His art is good, but if we collaborate too much, it throws off my style. So he usually only helps out a little—more like an assistant than a partner.
He’s got his own thing going on—he works in picture books, and you can’t exactly bring overtly political themes into that field, so he can’t be too involved.
This time, too—it was a piece putting a price tag on Pandalman, but he wasn’t involved in that part at all.
I just asked if I could use the character and how to make it look cool.
I’ve seen so many musclemen I’ve lost the sense of how to draw them stylishly.
It’s like… if someone asked you to draw a refrigerator and make it look cool—you’d be stumped too, right?

—Was Yonago Yonako-Tora involved in the tiger painting at the sanctuary?

No, she wasn’t. I’m just a personal fan of Yonago Yonako-Tora.
I mean, there aren’t many picture books where a girl mouse gets to be the hero.
This time, TenTails was raising awareness about the crisis facing big cats like tigers and snow leopards… I just thought that was really cool.
Huh? Well, I mean—he’s a human, after all.
N-not that I’m anti-Catfolk or anything.
Hmm, but if it were Anthony from the Round Five, I could totally date a Catfolk. He’s so dreamy…
What? He’s here? Right now?!
I want to meet him!!

026. The Mouse, the Cat, and in the Thicket II

026. The Mouse, the Cat, and in the Thicket II — Cedric’s Testimony

—What’s your nyame?
Ah, I’m Cedric Rice Pudding.
Huh? I don’t have to use my real name?
Okay then… please call me by my pen name, “Panpudding.”
Wait, either is fine? I see... right.

—Are you a painter?
Yes. I love drawing thanks to my grandma—
Well, actually, my great-great-grandmother, I think. She raised me.
She used to paint as a hobby, and she taught me how to draw.

—So her influence led you to picture books?
Yeah, the picture books she read to me were my favorites, and I used to copy them and draw on my own.
Also, I really like character merch.
I collect “Honey Bunny” stuff.
Honey Bunny’s a rabbit, but… she kind of reminds me of the leader from Zodiac Chronicles, the White Mouse Princess.
She’s delicate, cool, and a noble leader.
Then, when I met Schrödinger—Bianca, right?
She was just like the real-life White Mouse Princess!
I thought, “This is fate. I have to follow her.”

—There’s a missing persons report filed for you.
Yeah… I guess it’s because of my grandma’s influence—
I’m a huge fan of Daikuma Ookumamaru.
When I heard he became Pandalman, it lit a fire in me.
I thought, I want to become Bianca Schrödinger’s Pandalman too!
I figured they’d try to stop me if I said anything, so…
I ran away from home three days ago.

—Your grandma is… Yonako Tora?
Yes. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?

—She’s a world-renowned picture book artist, you know.
Huh? Really!?

—What is with this laid-back, spacey rich kid...
Yeah, that’s all for today’s testimony.
Oh, and make sure you mark which pictures you worked on from that list over there.

027. A Catnap Break

Still in his crumpled suit, Chita Chita awoke in the SUV parked in the lot.
“Shoot, I dozed off… Man, I just don’t have the stamina anymore…”

“Oh, you're alive! Good job out there~”
A sparkling, long-haired Nekobito with an elegant aura peeked in from the driver’s seat, beaming.

“I’m Okasha—‘Oka’ like hill and ‘sha’ like slanted in kanji. I'm the coroner here!
But like, no one's dead again today, so I’ve got nothing to dooo. So boring~”

“Ah, h-hi there.”

“I mean, I can do more than just autopsies, y’know? Like analyzing paint samples or whatever. Want me to do that for you?”

“Really?”

“That’s what you’d think, right?
But turns out Abi-chan already did it all before I even got the chance.
So now I’ve got nothing to do! Ugh, I’m thinking I’ll just head to Tsukiji and dissect a Kamatoro Frappuccino or something.
I can analyze it afterwards.
Searching for parasites in tuna guts? Best. Day. Ever!”

“Uh, um…”

“Of course you’re coming, right? Alright then, off we go~!”

And so, Chita found himself dragged off by coroner Okasha, bound for a forensic dissection of tuna.

028. The Mouse, the Cat, and the Thicket III

028. The Mouse, the Cat, and the Thicket III TenTails’ Testimony

—Hi, Mister, you’re a Nekobito, aren’t you?
—Detective Char, please… Our collaborator here—I'm sorry—but you are a Nekobito, right?

Ah, off the record? Sure. I’m a snow leopard.
But I wasn’t born one. I was human, originally.
No, I didn’t do the Black Cat Counting Ritual or anything.
I just happened to be there—when the King of the Snow Leopards was on his ninth and final life.
I was young then, intrigued by the mystical and drawn to adventure.
A friend of mine wanted to photograph a snow leopard in the remote Himalayas, so I went with him.
We ventured into a valley called Spiti in the region of Mārchalpradi—"the land in between," they say.
Likely a fault line between mountain ranges—a harsh, narrow ravine.
We searched for snow leopards, but I got separated.
In the middle of a blizzard, I found shelter in a cave along a sheer cliff.
Inside was an old snow leopard.
His blue eyes turned to me, though he said he was blind.
"I can’t see you, but I smell you. Young human male. Just like the one I devoured in my fifth life. You reek of arrogance. Are you here for revenge? Or just to mock me?"

I told him—I didn’t mean to intrude. I just needed refuge from the storm.
If he let me live, I’d do anything.
He laughed. "Even if I wanted to eat you, I can’t move. I have no strength left to break your ribs, no teeth to pierce you. Suit yourself. But—if you’ll show me the human world—then I’ll give you a portion of my power. The charm that once bewitched every female in this valley, and the wisdom of nine lives. What do you say?"

I replied: I don’t need the charm—I already have plenty. But I am curious about the wisdom.
And I’d like to honor the wish of a dying creature.
So now, I’m a snow leopard Nekobito.

—Is that... really true, nya?

Oh? Little kitten—why do you doubt me?

—Because you were already TenTails when you debuted. Mama’s a huge fan, so I know.

Even so, my debut wasn’t that early. I had time to encounter the snow leopard in my youth.

—But if your debut was powered by snow-leopard magic and not your own talent, Mama would be devastated, nya.

No, no—my debut wasn’t thanks to snow-leopard power.
I’ve always been too clumsy to live fully as a Nekobito.
And besides, this life is only on loan. That’s why I haven’t made my snow-leopard side public.
But I’m still me.
Just as I learned French, I learned Cat as well—it’s like that.
Still… you’ve got a sharp nose, kitten. Your name is…?

—Detective Char! Char Aulme Buchi!

I’ll remember that.
So… does this mean I’m off interpreter duty for young Anthony?

—Yes. Aoki-san came back, so she’s got it covered. Sorry about that.

No, no—I wasn’t looking forward to it or anything.
...Though I must admit, I was a bit curious.

—Yes. Aoki-san came back, so she’s handling it now. Sorry about that.
No, no—I wasn’t really looking forward to it or anything.
...Though I must admit, I was a bit curious.

—Sorry, he’s feeling super down right now, so maybe next time.
(Right, Mr. Shamu?)
(Yeah... Patra’s been binge-watching TenTails videos non-stop. Anthony’s totally crushed.)
(Oh no. Poor guy. My mama lets me watch dinosaur videos instead of TenTails whenever I want!)

029. The Tongue-Sticking-Out Mouse

While Shamu, Kuritsu, Charle, and Chief Numata were each taking testimonies from related parties, Okasha and Chita returned to the office carrying the half-finished third cup of their Maguro no Kamatoro-ccino and a slightly undersized frozen tuna.

“Kamatoro is the best!!”

“That was delicious, wasn’t it?”

“Uncle Tsukiji is the best too!!”

“Well, this one was a special order, so it’s a little small.”

“Why are you so close with the guys from Tsukiji, Okasha-san?”

“Hehehe. Hey, by the way—this might sound odd coming from a coroner, but—are you okay not doing any investigation?”

“Well, I’m not okay, but technically this isn’t an investigation.
I was hoping that if we got lucky and found something, we could get Schrödinger to help us out.
Didn’t think we’d actually find anything, though.
And now there’s a roll of flying cloth here, Marumaru, and even Tails.
At this rate, a jaguar might show up next.”

“Heehee, that’d be fun if it did.”

As they made their way from the parking lot, through the elevator, and back into the office, Okasha was casually wiping tuna water off her long fur. She didn’t mind the mess; she was planning to spend a luxurious bath time later in the morgue’s mermaid-themed shower room, and a few droplets from a half-thawed tuna weren’t going to faze her.

“Paperwork’s going to pile up from this… Wait, huh?
Are the CAT Japan Branch computers always like this?”

From their angle by the elevator, they could see into the glass-walled office—where every single computer monitor was glowing. And on all of them, an animation of a certain famous mouse sticking out its tongue was playing.

“Oh dear, looks like we might’ve been infected with something...
But I really have to get this tuna down to the morgue quickly.
Ah, Anichi-chan? Can you come to the office? Something weird’s happening.
And can you call the Chief too?
No worries—Chita-san’s staying, so the place won’t be unmanned.”

Hanging up the phone, Okasha hoisted the tuna onto her shoulder and began heading out of the office.

“Wait, you’re leaving me here?”

“If the tuna finishes thawing, we’ll have to eat it right away.
You want to have a shaved tuna ice party with everyone later, don’t you?
It’s fine—Anichi-chan will be here soon!”

With a beaming smile, Okasha made her exit, leaving Chita alone amidst the sea of tongue-sticking-out mice.

031. Ms.Tora, Karin, Cedric, Bianca (and Mr. Neta)

Next door to the CAT office is Karin’s gym, with her own little mezzanine office overlooking the clashing of muscles and the clang of dumbbells below. There, a lively tea party is underway—attended by Ms. Yonago Tora, Karin, Cedric, and Bianca, while Mr. Neta dozes in a hammock in the corner.

“You’re Karin… oh my, what a formidable presence you have.”

“Really? I’m more of a slender killer, though.”

“Grandma... um—”

“Shh! Grandma’s talking to Karin right now. Oh, that back…”
“Mind if I touch it? Eeek! I’d love to draw the next book with a Karin-style monster cat as the main character! Tee-hee, I should consult with Moko-chan too.”

“Moko-chan… you mean Fuwamoko-cute illustrator Fusaha Moko, right? I heard you’re planning to give our picture books a fluffy-cute makeover… I mean, I wouldn’t mind it, but the fans—especially the little kids—might not get on board.”

“Oh, it’s fine, that’s…”

As Tora smiles calmly to reassure her, Cedric excitedly chimes in:

“It’s all good! I’ll keep doing the artwork for the Pandalman series! The wabi-sabi line can be a separate thing!”

“That’s wonderful—but what about animation?”

“Well, I haven’t heard about that yet. They’ll probably wait until the characters really take off.”

“I’m studying anime-style art for that moment—well, adapting it to our current vibe. I want to make sure it wins everyone's approval…”

“Heh, you’re impressive for someone your age.”

“Oh, no… hehe…”

“You’re not that young—Cedric, you’re a big 30-year-old, you know.”

Bianca murmurs quietly from the corner, staring at her phone: the screen reads “Mysterious Cleaning Brigade.” Tora turns away from Bianca to face Cedric again—she’s still too upset over the runaway beauty who led her grandson astray to even look at Bianca.

“You really caused quite a scare… And I ended up revealing my identity to Moko-chan. She was shocked.”

“You mean me saying ‘I’m Pudding’ out loud? I was being so careful not to contact directly—Oh, Grandma! Why didn’t you tell me that Eto Chronicle was your work?”

“I thought you’d feel too much pressure if you knew. Anyway, let’s go home. Karin-san, I really hope we meet again—next time with Ookuma too…”

“Oh, I apologize for Ookuma’s absence. I’ve been asking the younger ones to find him since earlier—but I have no idea where he went.”

“He’s right here.”

Bianca says softly, keeping her gaze fixed on the screen.
“You’re… right here?”

Bianca silently tilts the phone toward Tora. On its screen are Ookuma and Kōta-kun, smiling as they take part in traffic safety awareness. The caption reads “Pandalman’s Guerrilla Traffic Safety Push!” In the background, weary rat soldiers can be seen weeding the grounds. Princess Bianca looks deeply worried for those rat soldiers.

Meanwhile, Mr. Neda snoozes peacefully in his hammock—but his ears are definitely still listening. The Pandalman character adaptation seems legitimate, but he’s quietly wondering if buying fluffy-stock now might count as insider trading…

030. The Kamatoro-ccino and a Facepaw Moment

From the other side of the glass door, a pale-faced Anthony appeared.
He was wearing an oversized T-shirt with a cute panda design—likely borrowed from Mr. Ookuma.
“Patra! ...Not here either. Excuse me, have you seen Patra?”
“Ah, uh... looks like she's not in the detention room. Oh, right—want to give your statement before you go? I can call Aoki.”
“Thank goodness, a normal person...”
“Normal?”
“The last one was talking in all this creepy old-fashioned language... It seriously felt like I was being cursed.
But, uh—can I give the statement here?”
“Yeah. If the animated mice on the screen don’t freak you out.”
“They do kinda freak me out, but... honestly, I’ve lost track of what’s normal anymore.”
“Life of a celebrity, huh... Oh—Aoki? Anthony’s in the office! Come over, okay? You know it’s a pain if I have to take the statement later, right?”
While Chita called Aoki, Anthony looked around helplessly at the swarming mouse animations.
“Wanna try the rest of this Kamatoro-ccino?”
A slender woman offered him a container with a questionable mixture of fish, whipped cream, and a mere trace of coffee.
Anthony recoiled. “How can you drink such—”
“WOW! Is that...?! May I...?”
From under the desk, an astoundingly beautiful foreign woman appeared—a rare sight even by city standards.
She grabbed the nearly-empty Kamatoro-ccino that Chita was holding and asked in fluent Nekotongue if she could taste it.
Chita responded with a warm smile, also in Nekotongue.
“Oh, you were under the desk. Go ahead—be my guest.”
“Yay, thank you! I’ve so been wanting to try Kamatoro-ccino! There’s no wasabi in it, right?”
“Yeah, I don’t like wasabi either, so I left it out.”
As the two women happily chatted in feline language, Anthony watched the scene unfold, utterly lost.
To him, this was a grotesque beverage beyond human comprehension—but he still looked relieved to have found Patra.
Soon, the elevator dinged open, revealing Abi and Aoki.
“Ah, Chita-san, thanks for your work. I’m Abi, just came by, y’know... I’m not great with computers, but I’ll manage...”
“Alright then, I’ll be taking this young man. Patra-san, are you heading home?”
“Oh no, don’t leave me, Patra!”
As Aoki reached out, Anthony brushed her hand away and leapt up from the chair.
“Don’t leave me, Patra!”
Half-turning with an exasperated smile, Patra looked back.
Aoki extended her hand again, trying to calm the panicking Anthony.
“Don’t worry, it’ll only take—”
“No!”
Anthony again shook off her hand, kicked his chair, and this time bolted the other way—
straight to Patra.
He grabbed her hand, tugging her forward.
Though clearly confused, Patra followed.
They dashed toward the elevator—
but Anthony seemed to have forgotten about the glass wall in between.
The chair he'd kicked earlier collided with the glass at just the right angle.
With a sharp crack, a web of fractures spread out, and the wall crumbled.
Thin shards scattered in the air, reflecting cold white light as they rained down over the pair.
Undeterred, Anthony charged through the shimmering debris, pulling Patra into the elevator.
Though he seemed slightly bloodied, he didn’t stop.
The elevator doors shut with a soft ding, sealing the sound behind them.
Left behind, Aoki surveyed the shattered glass, the toppled chair, and the mountain of paperwork and cleanup now awaiting her.
She gently placed a paw to her forehead in a classic facepaw pose.
Chita sighed, staring past the broken glass toward the shut doors.
(…Guess I’ll be chasing them again—like, a few stations’ worth.)

032.(Deleted)

032. The Mouse, the Cat, and the Thicket IV – TenTails’ Testimony 2 (Deleted Scene)

—Huh? Oh my, when did this room get a makeover…? From folding chairs to a Le Corbusier-style lounge set…

—Chief, the chairs are all squishy!

—Yes, but the budget… well, let’s talk about that later.

There was a delivery earlier. The guy said it was a gift from someone named “Fluffy-Mokko.”

—Ah, thank you. I’m terribly sorry we made a suspect receive the package… Oh, but you’re no longer a suspect! Congratulations. The man who was assaulted has officially dropped the charges. Apparently, he was invited to a remote meeting by a mysterious beauty… Said something like, “To be personally asked by such a stunning woman? Man, I’ve still got it.” Speaking of which…

—Clack! Numata-saaaan, the guy says, “I don’t need any more direct messages from women, please make my email private again.”

—Hey, hey—was the beauty Patra-chan?

—Her, and her fellow models, and all kinds of people confident in their looks seem to think they were the one. It’s a mess. Even if he wants his address private again, it’s not like we were the ones who leaked it. Should I just tell him that’s not happening?

—Uhh… Mitsuike-chan, could you handle it?

—Sure. Alright, congrats Ten-san. Catch ya later, Charlin! Wait—oh, are you recording? Oopsie, didn’t mean to interrupt! Clack!

033. The Mouse, the Cat, and the Thicket IV

033. The Mouse, the Cat, and the Thicket IV – TenTails’ Testimony 2 (Retake)

—Ahem. Now then, with the charges dropped, you are officially free to go…

That’s great news. Now the concert can go ahead. However, there’s still one matter I must address. You’re investigating those mysterious scraps of paper that attack people, aren’t you?

—Yeah! They stick to people and make them do good things. You got caught by one too, didn’t you?

Hm. That may be true, or it may not. In this world, some things are better left unclear—and my case is the latter.

In any case, this curious phenomenon has drawn the attention of Gertrude LXVI, First Cat to the Pope at the Vatican. She’s very sensitive to worldly affairs, especially because her papal number—66—is considered unlucky in feline numerology. So she entrusted this to me.

This sheet here has been cleansed and blessed with holy water, and infused using cutting-edge technology… what was it called again? You know, that tissue brand with the adorable seal printed on the box. Supposedly, this will calm any rampaging Stray Samaritan.

—Stray Samaritan?

Yes, that’s what she called it. They are like spirits born from the goodwill or positive energy poured into writing or art. When their vessels deteriorate, the good intentions lose their way, and they sometimes drive people to impulsive or reckless acts—almost like evil spirits.

—Clack! Sorry!! Emergency! There’s an assassination threat against TenTails! Also, the one who made the threat probably smashed a window and escaped!

—Nyani!?

—Whoa, wait, Bunji-san!? You were here?

—Yep. Camera duty. Looked like you were short on hands, so I pitched in.

034. Getaway in a Little Blue Car

“Anthony, where are you going!?”
“I’ve had enough of this weird place and all these bizarre accusations!! I mean, someone was drinking a fish parfait or something! But even more than that—I don’t want to be apart from you!! Let’s go!!”
“Go where!?”

Anthony grabs Patra’s hand and dashes out of the elevator toward the parking garage. In the semi-basement garage, one section is cluttered with variously colored private cars, and another is neatly lined with police vehicles. Only the police vehicle area is managed by Mr. Kichin, a Nekobito unusually particular about details. Anthony spots Kichin in the distance, repositioning a haphazardly parked SUV left by Okashaga, and pulls Patra to hide behind a small, classic blue car nearby—Mitsuike’s beloved vehicle.

“Anthony, hey—what are you doing?”
“The door won’t open…”
“Like this?”

Patra extends her Nekobito-enhanced claws and effortlessly unlocks the door.
“Thank you! I love you!” Anthony says, diving under the steering wheel, slicing and reconnecting wires to start the engine.
“Get in!!”
“Ah, well, I…”

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Anthony quickly pushes the seat back—it had been adjusted for the petite Mitsuike. Seeing Kichin heading back toward the staff room, Anthony stomps on the gas.
“Hold on!!”

Mitsuike’s favorite classic compact car blasts out from the soft pink CAT building. The CAT building, with its gentle Nyoudi-style curves and signature blue-stained glass entrance—an abstract shape that could be a heart or a cat—is a memorable sight. From behind the building, the gleaming little blue car shoots onto the main avenue.

035. Rapid-Tap R Button

“I’m telling you, we didn’t touch your account or anything—Aaaaaaah! My precious Sky-chan!!”

Mitsuike screamed as she spotted her beloved blue car speeding out of the parking garage. She’d happened to be on the phone by the window—speaking to none other than the man who’d been punched by Temptails for dating violence.

“Ugh, shut up already!” she snapped, hanging up on the unpleasant man, then quickly turned to her computer. Only one Akkambe-Mouse icon was still flashing, the others already marked with sticky notes from Ahi reading “You can use this one now.” Mitsuike tried to check her schedule, only to realize her hand was trembling—her car was in danger.

“Ahi, is En around today?”

“She’s up on the roof. I think she’s registering that rescue dragon.”

“Perfect. I hope I can reach her— Hello? En? Yeah! I need you to fly it—urgently, now! The dragon’s cage? Someone’ll take care of guarding it!”

Even as she spoke, Mitsuike was grabbing Ahi by the collar and dragging her to the elevator, furiously mashing the upward arrow button.

“Come on, elevator—move already! Why is it so slow?!”

Ahi, catching her breath, said casually, “That Akkambe-Mouse thing? You can X it out, but…”

“But what?!”

“Well, that mouse? There’s this rumor—it started as some prank among influencers. Apparently, when you use it, a background program installs a backdoor into your computer. Not totally sure if it’s true, though.”

“What?! That’s seriously bad!”

“Oh, elevator’s here.”

Mitsuike pulled Ahi into the elevator, determined to wipe the mouse icon from her working memory. As the doors closed, she shifted all her focus to tracking down her car—wildly tapping the R button for the rooftop

036. Heli-san's Plane and the Driving Lane

“If there was already a dragon trainer up here, reckon we didn’t even need lil’ Ahi.”

“I’m good with it, though. That dragon trainer’s mighty easy on the eyes. Ahi-chan, you sweet on him?”

“Nah, that girl don’t care ‘bout folks like that. She’s more like a cat when it comes to her private life. Got herself an owner, too.”

“Wait now, even though she’s a Catfolk?”

“Yep. Lives with this old granny who don’t got no boundary sense—thinks Ahi’s just a sweet ol’ housecat and loves on her like she’s her own blood. Word is, Ahi didn’t even know she was a Catfolk till she got all into chemistry.”

“Well I’ll be. That’s somethin’.”

They were hollerin’ over the noise in the cockpit as Heli cranked up her old cargo plane and took off. Even with the narrow rooftop of the CAT building, Heli and her faithful Falcon had no trouble lifting off. The cockpit rattled something fierce, but Heli grinned ear to ear and started beltin’ out the chorus lines of Perfect Five’s old hits, like she was born for the stage.

“What kinda car we chasin’ again?”

“It’s blue! Small, real classy lookin’, kinda tidy!”

“Ohhh, that one? The fella goin’ the wrong way down the road?”

“Nyaaa!! He’s drivin’ on the right side! That boy don’t know how we do traffic here!”

Turns out Anthony hadn’t figured out the traffic direction differs between countries. A whole mess of black-and-white police cars had taken off after him—not ‘cause of the break-in or the car jackin’, but for good ol’ fashioned traffic violations. Realizin’ Heli’s plane had joined the fray, Anthony hit the gas harder.

“Well shoot, this ain’t good. If he crashes, Sky-chan’s done for—’n worse, Anthony’s gonna be in some serious hot water, nya.”

“Aw hell, what’re we gon’ do now? This here plane’s got a dragon snatcher rig, but catchin’ a dang car? I don’t think so.”

“Still… I want him caught, nya…”

“Mitsuike-chan’s car got a radio in it?”

“Oh! Right! That’s a nyaaice idea!”

Mitsuike stood halfway up, reached for the radio hangin’ near the roof, and hollered into it:

“Anthony!! Listen up, nya!! If you wreck that car I’ll—er, I mean CAT’ll secretly take ya into custody!! You just follow my navigation, pronto, nya!! If ya hear me, say somethin’!!”

But all that came back through the static was a weak, confused voice: “WHAT…?”

037. Anthony’s Great Escape

"Patra!! What the heck is this radio sayin'?! Translate the cat-speak!!"

The small blue car’s radio kept blaring its message, but Anthony couldn’t make out a single word. There was some kind of meowing—cat language, probably—so he called out toward the back seat, hoping Patra would translate.

“Patra?... Patra!?”

Finally glancing into the angled rearview mirror—too low to give a good view—Anthony realized two things: Patra was gone, and there were way more Japanese police cars behind him than he’d expected.

“...Oh no. No no no NO—"

Slipping into a mild panic, he let out a string of expletives not fit for broadcast, then slammed his fist against the thin, old-fashioned steering wheel. After a few deep breaths, he began to calm himself.

That’s when something yellow darted past his peripheral vision—fast. Something kicked off a structure and launched itself toward him.

A dull thud echoed from the low ceiling of the compact car, and then he saw it: a giant yellow feline paw slapping against the upper edge of the left window.

Then—out of nowhere—a slim figure with a head of wild blond hair appeared, peering down at him through the windshield. Anthony screamed and stomped the gas even harder.

Even after the head disappeared, a new horror emerged. Somewhere—he couldn’t tell where—a voice like something out of a horror flick whispered in Kurutsu’s signature tone. It twisted through the radio, barely audible beneath the static:

> “Should thou fail to turn at this next corner... abandon all hope... for thus... zzrkk... shalt thou arrive at... doom…”

Eyes wide with terror, Anthony stared forward—only to see a yellow clawed hand scraping down the windshield with a screech.

Yanking the wheel hard, he veered off the main road and into the maze of buildings ahead. But the strangest thing of all?

Not a single soul was in sight.

038. The Assault

Just before Anthony fell into full-blown panic, the beautiful Patra stood alone in the CAT headquarters parking lot.

“…I’m sorry, Anthony.”

She murmured the words as she watched the small, classic car zoom off without her. Her expression then shifted—determined—and in a flash, she transformed into her feline form and darted through the cat-sized side entrance.

Patra avoided the security cameras, which were mostly designed to monitor human-sized lifeforms, and chose instead to move through the rooftop ventilation ducts. Eventually, she reached an emergency stairwell that almost no one used. There, she returned to her Nekobito form and started bounding up the stairs.

“Ten Tails… This is for Suzie!”

She recalled the kind man she had chatted with at Nekochigura, with his calm, gentle blue eyes. Even if it was just a shallow crush, she couldn’t forget his smile. She’d asked her fans for information, even listened obsessively to his hit songs on Nyantunes, but no matter what she did, his face wouldn’t leave her mind. Somehow… it felt familiar.

Her memory flashed back to the conversation she’d had with Ten Tails a few hours ago in the detention center.

> “Wasabi allergy, huh? Sounds rough.”
“Yeah... I didn’t know. But honestly, it was kinda thrilling. I might be into it.”
“Maybe love should be the only thrill we need. I bet to your boyfriend, you are wasabi.”
“Oh my… giggles. So, what landed you in here?”
“I did something no gentleman ought to do.”
“He beat up a guy who hit his girlfriend,” came a bored voice from behind the bars.
It was Kurutsu, watching from across the holding cell.
“Jeez, if you weren’t a Nekobito, it’d just be another human domestic dispute.”
“Oh, the guy was human? Then…”

Patra knew very well what kind of power her "Cleopatra reincarnate" beauty could exert over certain types of human men. She’d tracked down the abusive boyfriend and even convinced him to drop the charges.

Ten Tails… there was something between us. Some kind of bond…

And then, the shock of what she saw when she snuck into the office and viewed the interrogation tapes—Ten Tails was the King of the Snow Leopards. Her heart, which had fluttered in curiosity and longing, was now struck by revelation. Memories from a previous life surged to the surface.

The hated Snow Leopard King… Ten Tails…!

“There!”

Patra lunged at the emergency door on the interrogation room floor, throwing her body against it with all her might. Something clattered loudly on the other side.

Unlike typical Nekobito, CAT members hardly ever used the stairs, so emergency doors often had stuff stacked in front of them. In this case, it was some old pipe chairs and a desk hauled out of the interrogation room.

039. Nobody's Friend

Suddenly, the folding chair and desk by the wall clattered to the floor. Superintendent Numata, Inspector Charu, Officer Aoki, and Tentails, who had been standing and talking, jumped back in surprise, bracing themselves.

“Me-me-meow!? Patra-chan!?”
“Did she escape!?”
“Patra-chan, your boyfriend ran off!”

Everyone spoke at once. Meanwhile, Patra slipped her slender frame through the slightly open door and into the hallway. Then, with desperate resolve, she lunged at Tentails with her cat claws.

“Tentails—prepare yourself!!”
“Wait, what the meow are you doing!?”

But she was easily knocked back by Superintendent Numata.

“Meow?! What's gotten into you? Have you lost your mind?”

Even as he said this, Numata rushed to the fallen Patra and helped her up. As she leaned into his thick, fluffy coat, the tension melted from her, and she broke into tears.

“When I was the first life of a Catfolk... that snow leopard... the one haunting him... in its seventh life, it was a huge stray cat... and it... it ate Suzy, the hen I adored...!”

“Yes, yes, Suzy. Okay, calm down now.”

“She ate Suzy, the hen...!”

Tears streamed down Patra’s beautiful face, her mascara and eyeliner forming black waterfalls as she sobbed.
Catfolk and feline creatures are said to have nine lives, but due to their nature—or perhaps the way reincarnation works—memories from previous lives rarely remain. For her to remember it, it must have been a tragic, deeply painful farewell.

“Suzy... I looked forward to her eggs every day...!”

She clung to Superintendent Numata, crying. Tentails slowly stepped forward, knelt down, and spoke gently.

“I see... that must have been hard. Very hard indeed. But... that happened in the seventh life of the snow leopard that now haunts me. It was not me. No matter how much I wish to atone in its place, I cannot. All I can do is pray for Suzy's peace. May glory be upon Suzy and her eggs…”

Patra blinked through the wreckage of her smeared makeup, listening.

“The snow leopard with me is old now, and you are young and beautiful. What do you say? Rather than seeking revenge on me, why not find happiness with your boyfriend, Anthony? He’s a good man. Even if you make him cry, he’ll enjoy it. Take care of him.”

“Y-yes... okay…”

Tentails took her hand gently, as if she were a princess, and helped her to her feet. Beside them, Superintendent Numata also stood up with a groan.

“Well then, everyone made up now? You're friends again, right?”

“Ah, well, that is...”

“Nope!”

Until now silent and composed, little Inspector Charu suddenly raised a paw.

“Yes, Inspector Charu?”

“Yes! Tentails is nobody’s friend, but we can all be his biggest fans! Friends: not allowed. Fans: allowed!”

After a brief silence, Tentails burst into laughter. That set off Superintendent Numata and Patra too, who laughed without quite knowing why—simply charmed by Charu’s serious, proud little face.

“Oh, you remembered the lyrics to that old song... thank you. Now, I am your number one fan.”

“I’m Tentails’s favorite?”

“Yes, you are.”

Just as the atmosphere had softened into warmth and laughter, a loud emergency dispatch alarm rang through the room.

040. Rescue Call

"Ah! Shamu-san just initiated a deployment!"

"So that's where she went... Yes, Numata speaking."

Chief Numata answered via CAT communicator. On the other end, a crisp audio feed carried Shamu’s voice—along with the impact of something crashing, and the groans of someone in pain.

“Chief! Turn on the news!”

"Oh, you mean Mitsuike-chan’s car, right? I just—"

“No! The zombie-mouse soldiers are dropping one by one from heatstroke! Bianca-san is seriously pissed off!”

“What?!”

Shamu switched the call to video. The screen showed a burly man in military attire being helped by a human passerby. The camera panned over the scene: more mouse-soldiers were having their ponchos, rubber gloves, and kappa costumes removed. Others lay under the shade while water was poured over them.

It appeared to be a large park. In the distance, a familiar figure was visible: a giant bear carrying unconscious soldiers under both arms.

Detective Charu, the tiny cat-person, instantly perked up at the sight.

“Where’s Kota-kun? The boy who was with the bear-san?”

“He’s fine! The bear and I just walked him home. I’m on the way back now, but—haaah!”

For a split second, Shamu’s long leg came into frame as it landed a fierce side kick on a large zombie mouse's temple. Then the screen went black.

“Didn’t I just say you'd die if you stood up?! Lie down by the fountain!”

Shamu’s furious voice came through clearly. Startled, Charu flattened her ears and leapt into Chief Numata’s arms. Embarrassed almost immediately, she backed off again.

The chief gently stroked her head, then spoke into the communicator.

“Shamu-chan, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but the mouse-soldiers… I’ve managed to herd them into the fountain park, but Bear-san and I can’t handle them all!”

Then Shamu’s face filled the screen. Soaked, in her human disguise, she looked every bit like a determined plainclothes detective.

“You will get wet, so make sure to come in your human forms!”

Droplets sparkled on her forehead as she barked another command:

“Hey! Stay in the fountain!”

The call abruptly ended.

041. The Meadow and meow & meaw

"This here’s Heli, y’all. I’m flyin’ over them Nekomachi Grasslands right now. Over ‘n out." “Copy-nya. Anthony-chan has safely entered the Nekomachi zone according to GPS. Over.”
"Ah! There’s Chita-san on the roof! That’s dangerous-nya! Can’t she stop the car?"
“There’s no real boundary over there, so it’s fine. She’ll probably stop once she runs out of gas.”
"That applies to airplanes too, you know."
“That area seems like hills, but it’s not really — lots of ups and downs, gentler than the Tama Hills...”
"Feels like Anthony speeds up whenever Kurutsu-san talks."
“Excuse me, nya?”
Kurutsu from CAT HQ fell silent for a moment, unclear whether she found it funny or not, as she checked the dispatch request coming through her smart watch.
Anthony’s car, a blue vehicle, traveled down a single path through the endless green.
"Well ain’t this place just somethin’ else... real pretty, it is."
While piloting the plane, Heli muttered to herself, not pressing the radio switch.
Nekomachi is a town on the border — mostly inhabited by Nekobito, cat-folk. These Nekobito live with customs much closer to the world beyond the boundary than those in human society. Sometimes, even CAT-affiliated Nekobito go there to enjoy that classical world. The road to Nekomachi is, at times, long; at others, only a station away. Some even arrive just by taking a walk. But today, for Anthony, the road feels long. In the grassy fields just before Nekomachi, with blue skies and cotton-like clouds above, he begins to wonder if perhaps he actually died.
He remembers — that moment when Patra transformed and startled him, when he drank too much shochu, unaccustomed to it... He ran off somewhere… He feels like something white wrapped around his face. Then, he dove onto the road toward some cute creature. The headlights were blinding. Someone shouted incomprehensible words at him. He ran, holding a small warm creature in his arms. There was an abandoned house. He was barefoot, so he took off his shirt to lay on the floor. It didn’t quite feel like his own decision. So those detective-like ghost cats—maybe they were the ghosts of kittens he couldn’t save...? Is that why they locked him up in detention and interrogated him with frightening words…? A trial in the afterlife? Am I... dead?
Before he realizes it, his car has slowed significantly on an uphill road. Once at the top, he no longer feels like pressing the accelerator and stops the car. He steps out.
A green ocean stretches before him.
When he looks back, there’s his bright blue car. On top of it lies yellowish fur, swaying greatly, responding to the motions of the grassy field’s gentle waves.
Ah… I really did die, didn’t I…
Anthony stands still, overwhelmed.
Then, the fur shifts, and a cheetah turns its amber eyes toward him. Just as he thinks he's about to be eaten, the cheetah flops onto its back and rubs its head against the roof of the car.
In fluent English — though sounding terribly drained — it asks:
"Got anything sweet? Like chocolate?"
Anthony, hands trembling, grabs the meow&meaw chocolate bag he saw earlier in the passenger seat and hands it to the yellow cat paw with slightly dulled claws.

042. E. A. Paw's The Black Cat and Dr. Puss's Cat

"Wow, The Black Cat as a picture book...? That’s... I mean, Paw’s a horror writer, right?"
"Yeah. Back then, stuff like The Zodiac War Chronicles and Nekomata Yasha were trending at school—everyone thought they were cool."
"Wow, so she’s been famous since way back then?"
Chita was munching on M&Ms on the roof of a compact car, while Anthony lay stretched out in the back seat with the door wide open. They were lounging in a lazy, bunk-bed-style setup. A refreshing breeze swept over from the green sea, and Anthony, who until moments ago had been overwhelmed with fear, found himself casually chatting with the Neko-being.
"Me being nine years old wasn't that long ago."
"Nah, that was ages ago."
"Anyway, I remember thinking Tora Yonako’s books were super cool. So I picked up E. A. Paw’s The Black Cat thinking it’d be the same vibe... but it was way too scary for nine-year-old me."
"The one where he bricks up a corpse and a black cat in the wall, right? Yeah, that’s a classic, and definitely terrifying."
"That’s why... that voice on the radio—well, that person—really scared me..."
Chita started to wonder if Anthony’s extreme reaction had been triggered by trauma stirred up by Kurutsu.
"Compared to Paw’s Black Cat, it sounds silly, but I was terrified by Dr. Puss’s picture books."
"Dr. Puss? But those are Neko-being stories!"
"Cat and the What is about this random grown-up Neko-being in a silk hat who suddenly shows up and wrecks the whole house. As a serious Neko-being kid, it was way too real. It freaked me out."
"Ha. I get it—so for a Neko-being, that’s just a real weird adult… I wonder if Patra found Dr. Puss scary too..."
As Anthony murmured, white noise crackled over the radio, and then Aoki’s voice came through in English:
"Patra-chan has calmed down."
Anthony sprang up and grabbed the radio.
"Wait, what? What happened to Patra?"
"She made a death threat against TenTails, attacked them, then went crying to the chief and made up. All internal, nothing to worry about. Now we’re busy, so could you guys head out with the car and plane to rescue the Mouse Troopers? Chita, you there?"
"Huh...?"
"Copy that. This is Chita. Heading to Mouse Troopers. Over."
"Oh, and one more thing—this is Edge on the plane. Anthony, Mitsuike-san’s headed your way in rage mode, so you might wanna get over here instead. Crawl through the grass to the plane. Over."
"What?!"
"Ahh, right. You better run for it—meow!"
"You too, Chita. She’s mad you dented the roof when you jumped on it. Better hurry!"
"Ugh... It’s not like jumping on a moving car is easy... What a pain..."
Chita, too, took off across the green sea, running toward the plane.

043. Never Was a Cloudy Day

Under the clear blue sky of September, dozens of mouse soldiers, soaking wet, worked silently and diligently.
The beautiful white mouse princess, Bianca, flipped over garbage cans one after another and scattered their contents with swift precision.
The muscular soldiers picked up the trash without a word and gathered it into bags.

Of course, Bianca had a reason for scattering the garbage. It was to force the near-heatstroked soldiers to stay in the fountain, cooling their body temperature.
She knew exactly what she was doing—scattering the garbage over a wide area, adding variations in height to make it harder to collect. The exhausted, broad-shouldered soldiers couldn't keep up.

Over there, Shamu kicked a few sickly-looking soldiers in the knees, knocking them straight into the fountain.
The water from the fountain flowed immediately down a slope and into the surrounding ditches, so there was no danger of the unconscious soldiers drowning.

Mr. Ookuma was also busy, scattering large numbers of plastic bottle caps.
Somehow, the task reminded him of the time he had thrown rice cakes at a shrine festival.

But the sparkling spray of water, the occasional glimpses of rainbows, the blue sky, and the greenery—

“This is the life,” he said.

Though he felt sympathy for the exhausted Mukutsukēkis, he was also a little grateful.
Under ordinary circumstances, it’s hard for an adult to splash around in the water like this—unless you're helping others, or with a small child.

“Mr. Ookuma! Be careful!”

A cheerful voice called out from the distance. It was Kota.
Behind him stood a beautiful cat-like Sunekosuri woman in a white dress.

“Oh… is that…”

That must be Kota’s mother, thought Mr. Ookuma, smiling broadly and waving his hand.

A loud noise sounded overhead.
With a sharp shadow trailing it, a transport aircraft from Enishi flew across the sky.
It passed over the fountain and the grassy field beyond, and landed in the stadium.

Mr. Ookuma and Shamu exchanged a glance.
After Shamu tied up a few soldiers, Ookuma threw them into the shade and dashed off toward the aircraft.

Bianca hesitated for a moment, then quickly slipped into hiding.

Kota, sitting in the shade, was eagerly explaining his theories about the Mukutsukēkis and mouse soldiers to his mother.
The Sunekosuri mother casually drove away a passing hornet with a gentle aura of “go away.”

From the direction of the children’s playground—opposite the stadium—a few little kids came out to watch, only to be promptly ushered back into the shade by an accompanying adult.

Aside from the soldiers sprawled out at the great fountain, the scene remained remarkably peaceful.

044. O thou tissue of the sanctified and noble!"

The airplane’s propeller stops, and Shamu and Ohkuma rush over as the hatch opens. Mitsuike and Chita step down, followed by Anthony—his cheek bearing a small scratch. From the parking lot emerge, at a leisurely pace, Chief Numata, TenTails, Aoki, and Kurtsu. Agent Char is led by Bunji, nibbling on a small yokan‑manjū snack.

Shamu glances back toward the fountain and reports while watching the burly men continue picking up trash amid the sparkling water:

“Chief, the Mouse Soldiers are at their limit.”

“Those Samaritan spirits… they make people move on their own…I peeled them off as soon as I could. They were big, so it was easy.”
Mitsuike nods as Shamu adds, “Thanks to Saba‑Pechi,” giving a paws‑up sign before continuing:

“Unlike before, that tissue‑spirit is so fragmented it’s stuck to the laundry like lint. We can’t remove it completely.”

“I see… TenTails, would you say a degraded vessel like this becomes more unstable and dangerous?”
Chief Numata asks TenTails, who stares calmly at the distant soldiers.

“That’s what I’ve heard. Now the question is—how do we transfer this unstable Samaritan spirit safely?”

TenTails reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small sheet of folded white paper. Aoki, Kurtsu, Chita, and Char crowd around with interest; Bunji readies the camera.

“It’s awfully small… is it enough?” Kurtsu murmurs in cat-speak.

TenTails meets Kurtsu’s bright gaze and pauses thoughtfully:

“Ah, you’re the one with that elder-horror radio voice. Then, would you read this? The spell on this paper was entrusted by Nivelle’s Gertrude X X X X X X X 66th to restore it to its proper size.”

“You really want me to?” Kurtsu asks.

“Yes. It should sound formidable. Mister Ohkuma, would you please hold it? It will grow, and since it’s soft, your non-clawed hands are best.”

Ohkuma, changing out of his T‑shirt nearby, pops his head out from the panda shirt in surprise.

“Me?!”

“Yes, Ohkuma‑san, here!” Numata beckons.

Still stunned, Ohkuma runs up, bashfully, and takes the sacred paper with a wide smile. Kurtsu, entrusted with the recitation, exchanges an excited glance with him, then gathers strength and reads aloud the spell inscribed on the folded sheet:

“O tissue of the sanctified and noble, reveal your true form and encompass the wandering goodwill.”

The white paper unfurls itself in Ohkuma’s palm—flap, flap—growing larger and larger.

“Wow, makes me want to tear it!”

“So fluffy!”

“Good thing we trusted Ohkuma with it.”

As the Nekobito voices exclaim, the paper expands outward from Ohkuma’s arms onto the grass, eventually covering about a 3×3 meter square. Mitsuike mutters, “Isn’t it a tad too big?”

“Don’t worry—it’ll shrink tight again once we seal the Samaritan inside,” Numata reassures her.

Shamu nods in approval, looking sober:

“It’s like a sweater that accidentally went through the wash.”

“How do we actually transfer the spirit from the soldiers into the paper?” Aoki asks, prompting Kurtsu to wave the paper and respond:

“O spark of ancient goodwill dwelling in roiling ink, be freed from old bonds!”

At Kurtsu’s strong voice, the slog‑working soldiers suddenly drop to their knees and collapse—and grey mist begins rising from each of them in swirling plumes.

“Now, into this holy vessel, I invite the sacred spirit! Clothe it in new form—return it to its essence! So be it!”

Kurtsu’s chanting sends the mist hurtling toward Ohkuma—but instead of entering the paper, it swirls around him in a vortex, encircling him entirely.

“Ohkuma‑san!”

In an instant, Ohkuma is engulfed in shifting black-and-white smoke, the once-visible sacred paper—and himself—vanishing from sight. For a tense moment, only a smoke-shrouded figure lies under the blue sky.

“Ohkuma‑san…!!!”

But there is no reply.

045. Ohkuma’s T-Shirt

"What do we do… Ohkuma-san’s… gone!"
Agent Char, concerned, quietly unleashes the Silent Meow—a technique said to sometimes move even the heavens, summoning powerful allies when needed.

“Ohkuma! What’s wrong? Come out already!”
A voice calls from behind the CAT team encircling the smokescreen. As they turn, they see Karin and Bianca walking toward them, side by side.

"Don’t tell me you let a Samaritan possess you? You’re already a hopeless do-gooder without needing any spiritual help! Come on out!"
“S-Sorry! I’m okay, just… you might not want to look…”
The smoke gradually thins, and Ohkuma’s limbs begin to emerge. In his hands is the revered sacred paper, now folded up like a picnic tarp. The CAT members glance at each other with concern. Then his belly, then his head appear—and his face is red with embarrassment.

The reason soon becomes clear: the panda-hero T-shirt he had been wearing had shrunk into a tight, cropped fit—something more suited to a teenage girl showing off her midriff.

“S-Sorry… The sacred paper, um… the Samaritan smoke got sucked into my T-shirt…”
The shirt, originally printed with a fearsome panda leaning heavily toward a bear, now featured a retro-cute character in the Showa style—complete with a heart on its cheek.

“Meow-zing… Look at those sparkly eyes…”
“Wait, this is the Samaritan? That’s not what I imagined at all…”
“Oh, but look—it says ‘Gentle Beast’ next to it.”
“Ah… that’s, uh… that’s my original catchphrase…”
“Well… sorry to say this, but we’re going to have to confiscate that,” said Chief Numata with a dry smile.

“Wait, confiscate?”
“She means take it off and submit it as evidence. Here, change into this.”
Karin, unable to hide her amusement, handed him a new T-shirt, shimmering with a high-end luster.

“This is a prototype made in FluffyMoko Kingdom, for the Land of Wabi-Sabi project,” she added.
Bianca chimed in brightly from behind Karin, clearly pleased:
“It’s black with white ink-wash style—Karin in her wildcat form. For adults only. I drew the original illustration. But if Fuwa-san ends up getting vetoed by Mr. Yonago Tiger, the whole plan might get scrapped.”
“What? But it looks so cool!”
“Well, if you can pull it off stylishly, maybe Tiger will change his mind.”

Being watched with hopeful eyes by his mentor and the beautiful mouse-folk artist, Ohkuma turned away shyly and struggled to peel off the snug, girlish retro T-shirt. Chief Numata, chuckling, slipped the shirt into an evidence bag and sealed it up.

Ohkuma slipped his pale, sturdy arms into the brand-new black shirt.
“Oh? I brought XXL, but it still seems tight,” Bianca said in surprise.
“Well, he’s a big guy,” someone replied.

Though the sleek fit of the shirt looked sharp, the pairing with his workout pants was slightly mismatched—but Ohkuma looked thrilled.

“Whoa! This thing is seriously cool!”
Beaming, he lifted Bianca in a big hug, spun her around once, and set her down again.

At that moment, TenTails approached, led by Charu.

“Could it be… are you Schrödinger?”
“YES!!”
“Hey, Princess Bianca! If Panda-hero’s off the table, how about drawing TenTails instead? My mom would love it.”
“Schrödinger drawing me? That’s actually a great idea. In fact…”

Meanwhile, Chief Numata and Shamu had spread the sacred paper once more, and were carefully folding it up like a picnic mat as Kurtsu recited another spell. Near the fountain, Mitsuike and Aoki were distributing energy drinks and crunchy Gaji‑Gaji snacks to the worn-out mouse soldiers. Char did her best to interpret for TenTails, Bianca, Karin, and Ohkuma, while Bunji filmed and occasionally helped translate.

Heli, without a word, launched the plane. Everyone began to wonder—now that things had calmed—where had Anthony disappeared to?

046. Ms. Fuwa and Patra’s Girls’ Talk

In the office of Moko Fuwa in the Kingdom of Fuwamoko, a new portrait of TenTails has been added to the wall. Done in subtle monochrome ink on a white background, it’s understated and stylish. In the background, the faint outline of a snow leopard can be seen. At the bottom right, Schrodinger’s tiny paw print is gently stamped. Moko and Patra gaze at it with dreamy eyes as they chat about Fuwamoko’s newest area, “The Wabi‑Sabi Village.”

“So, it’s finally opening next March?” “Yes. And the collaboration with that environmental group sponsored by TenTails begins in November. As for the anime… if it happens, it’ll be the year after next. Still a big if, though.”

“Anthony was so fired up, saying he’d write the theme song. I wonder if he can really pull it off.” “I heard you’re auditioning for the role of Karirin.” “Yes. She’s such a cool character.”

“Even my mother-in-law’s become a huge fan. Tora Yonago’s first new work in thirty years, ‘The Phantom Cat: A Single Blossom’, is an illustrated period novel, you know.”

“And how are things between Tora and Princess Bianca? Have they made up?” “Well, once we sent Bianca’s portrait of Ookuma and Karin, the chill melted away right away… That kind of talent, you know… They connect through art, on that level.”

“Say, Patra—among all the cats haunting TenTails, which one do you think is influencing him the most?” “Hm, I don’t know. It feels like… only the ones that match his original tendencies really have any effect on him…”

“Ohhh, Patra, you really get it! So wise for your age!” “Hey Moko, do you think we could get Tora to do a picture book with TenTails and Anthony as the main characters?”

“Hmmm… maybe not. My mother-in-law says TenTails is too young, and Anthony just looks like a baby…”

In the Kingdom of Fuwamoko, the catfolk’s girls’ talk never ends.

047. Be kind to others as much as possible

Aoki and Kurutsu have once again returned to the traditional Japanese house where that famous writer once lived. Around five members of the preservation society for the writer’s residence are also present, vaguely drawn by the promise of some “culturally and historically valuable item” being installed. These members had been distressed when the hanging scroll was found torn, so they look somewhat pleased to hear that a replacement is being prepared—but their expressions shift to bewilderment when they learn it’s a framed T-shirt.

Kurutsu, mounting a stepladder, grumbles as he hangs the panda T-shirt—designed by Mr. Ohkuma—in the spot left bare by the removed scroll.

“Hanging this here feels like blasphemy, nya.”

Supporting the stepladder, one of the more senior preservation society members—and another, less senior one—smile wryly. Aoki, however, is not particularly interested in the mismatch between the house and the T-shirt; he just wants to finish up and go home.

“But this is probably where the Samaritan’s vessel was placed, right? It’s cute. Why not?”

“Hmm… maybe we should try that paper again, nya?”

Kurutsu pulls out the sacred paper—the one wrapped together with the scroll mount. The more and less senior preservationists watch curiously.

“Well, looks like you're ready. Go ahead.”

“Then, nyaaanjii…”

“Ah, wait! Sorry, everyone—it might be dangerous, so you should step back a bit.”

Aoki politely moves the preservation members back with a smile, then nods at Kurutsu, who begins chanting his usual incantation.

“Nyaanjii, O sacred paper that folds itself to the perfect size—unfold now to a size about 20 percent larger than one tatami mat.”

“You're being awfully specific this time.”

“Actually, I brought a mounting the same size as the last one. It’d be a problem if it didn’t fit, nya.”

As the paper gradually unfolds and grows larger, Kurutsu lowers it onto the tatami mat. He then accepts a long, narrow bundle from one of the preservationists and takes out a large scroll mounting.

“Ah, lovely craftsmanship.”

“You’ve got a good eye, Kurutsu-san.”

The preservationists seem hopeful—not about the glittery panda T-shirt, but about the possibility of displaying this tasteful green mounting instead.

“But we still don’t know if the spirit will transfer from the T-shirt…”

Kurutsu is a bit tense. The preservationists, following his directions, gently apply starch glue to the mounting and affix the now-perfectly-sized paper to it. Even the glue comes in an adorable, sparkling-eyed container, which only adds to Kurutsu’s unease. Once everything is ready, he tries to shake off his nerves by speaking a bit brusquely.

“Alright, kind soul from a hundred-odd years ago, now residing in Mr. Ookuma’s T-shirt—ancient good-hearted spirit-chan. Honestly, that outfit’s a bit embarrassing, so how about moving to this more refined one? Aoki-chan, say something too, nya.”

“Eh? Um… we replaced the paper, so please move, please?”

“Please! Ah, that’s the one!”

Kurutsu, a little surprised that an English magic word could resonate with ancient Japanese kotodama, steps back as smoke begins to rise from the T-shirt. The smoke pauses briefly in front of the sparkly glue container, then moves straight into the mounted paper. There, it spells out the phrase:

“Be kind to others”

The characters “Be,” “to,” and “ers” circle around once in place, then settle down.

“There, that should do it, nya.”

“It transferred quite obediently.”

“All in hiragana… how quaint, nya.”

“Ah.”

One of the less-senior preservationists suddenly speaks up, causing Kurutsu and Aoki to turn.

“It says ‘Be kind to others as much as possible’ now…”

“Meow, what a merciless world..."

048. Frozen Tuna Head & Shaved Ice Festival

"Is it over?"
"All done? Come on over!"

Ani and Okasha invite everyone from the office to the morgue, kicking off the Frozen Tuna Head & Shaved Ice Festival.
The freshly shaved tuna kama-toro resembles shaved ice doused in strawberry syrup.
The sweet-toothed catfolk drizzle condensed milk over theirs, while the less sweet-inclined—both cats and humans—prefer soy sauce.

Partway through, Mr. Neda shows up with just-made soba noodles, and Mitsuike brings along canned mackerel simmered in miso and a tub of whipped cream.

"Miss Karin, please don't pour protein powder on the human kama-toro."
"Don't worry, Bunji-chan, no more Tentails around, so you can put the camera away."
"Oh, I’m filming Charu now…"
"Well, she is adorable. Hey, where’s Kota-kun?"
"School today. Apparently a yokai friend of his is in trouble."
"Aww, too bad."
"Chief! Want an eyeball?"
"Is it… tasty?"
"Who knows, nya~"

And so, life at CAT remains peaceful.