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The Young Build Homes

Chapter 6: Fondness

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Arakita rested his fingers on the kitten’s head. The feline ducked out from underneath his hand, climbed to the top of the leather couch, and puffed out his chest as he sat down, as if to show off the patch of silver fur decorating his otherwise black fur there.

“You ungrateful little shit. I saved you from drowning,” Arakita grumbled.

“Maybe he’d be nicer if you stopped calling him names,” Imaizumi commented as he sat down beside him. It had been a few days since they rescued the kitten, and he’d recovered quickly to everyone’s relief. All of their friends came by frequently to check up on him, and, by now, it was obvious no one had the heart to take him to the shelter. Imaizumi had the most room and money, and, in his words, it made the most sense to let the cat stay where he was used to.

Manami, lounged in an armchair across from them, hummed in agreement. “Isn’t there a saying about how you’re not supposed to insult people in their own house?”

Arakita crossed his arms. “He’s a cat. He doesn’t own this place. If anything he’s a freeloader.”

The kitten’s dark blue eyes watched the male’s movement, and then he placed one paw on top of the other.

“I think he’s trying to copy you!” Manami grinned.

Imaizumi tilted his head to gaze up at the feline, who lost balance and sunk his claws into the upholstery to catch himself. Good thing his parents were never home to see those new marks on the couch. “I noticed it yesterday too. But why does he only do that with Arakita?”

“I swear to god he’s mocking me.” Arakita sighed and rose from his seat. Idly toying with the faded bandana around his wrist, he headed to the kitchen.

Manami shifted so that he lay sideways on the chair. Letting his arm dangle over the edge, he kept his gaze on the feline and experimentally ran his fingertips over the plush carpet.

Attention immediately captured, the kitten hunched down, intently watched his fingers for a moment, and then scrambled down Imaizumi’s shoulder and arm. After an ungraceful vault off the couch seat, he dashed toward Manami.

“Have you named him yet?” Manami asked. The cat’s paws darted out and narrowly missed his index finger. Uncaring of possible future nicks to his skin, the blue-haired male kept teasingly shifting his fingers across the floor.

Amused, Imaizumi considered offering the other one of the many cat toys littering the corner of the living room. However, he had a feeling Manami wouldn’t bother using one anyway, and another scratch or two was nothing for the guy who regularly climbed trees and houses.

“…I thought about Kuroda,” Arakita, out of sight in the kitchen, called back.

“Not bad,” Imaizumi replied.

Kuroda suddenly dropped into a crouch. His head flicked back and forth to follow the movement of Manami’s hand. After an excited wiggle of his rear he dashed forward to try to capture his target again.

As he returned to the living room, Arakita made it a few steps in before Kuroda noticed him. When he did, the kitten jumped back from Manami, swiped his tongue over his paws a few times, and sat up straight.

“Seriously, what the hell?” Arakita demanded.

A chuckle left Imaizumi’s throat. “It’s like he’s trying to act cool in front of you.”

“It is,” Manami agreed.

“I don’t think cats have the awareness to do that kind of thing…” Yet Arakita’s huffiness settled, and he didn’t complain when Kuroda climbed up his jeans to get back on the couch cushions.