“I’d demerit you, but technically I’m still suspended,” Raidou said. He shoved to his feet and headed back to the kitchen. Ume and Shun weren’t heavy drinkers, but they usually kept a bottle or two around the place, just in case.

Ume greeted him at the kitchen door with a plate of onigiri and an inquiring look. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you have anything stronger?” Raidou answered.

She searched his face and sighed. “There’s a bottle of Nanatsuboshi in the cupboard.”

He dug the dusty bottle out, liberated two cups to go with it, and accepted the plate of onigiri Ume pressed into his hands. She didn’t ask any more questions. He’d tell her later, when he knew what the official party line was, and when Shun was around to weather the inevitable storm. Ume loved Katsuko the same way she loved their evil tomcat and her classful of messy, civilian schoolchildren — fiercely, devotedly, and as if the alternative just didn’t make sense. She’d be proud of the promotion, and heartbroken at the aftermath.

When he returned to the plum tree, it was to discover the scene of a small, surprising coup. The kitten had been turfed from Genma’s lap and her place stolen by the large, yellow-eyed tomcat, who was making broken vacuum cleaner noises under Genma’s ministrations. The kitten, meanwhile, was taking leaps to bat at Genma’s swinging ponytail.

“I don’t know how you managed that,” Raidou said, setting the food and drink down before he took a seat. “But you should know he hates all living creatures.”

Genma glanced up with the innocent surprise of a man who didn’t know he’d allowed twelve pounds of concentrated homicide to curl up on his crotch. “Last I checked I was still alive, but maybe you’d better take my pulse?”

Raidou snorted.

Genma twitched his head to avoid losing a chunk of hair to a kitten attack, and looked back down at the purring monster. “Cat-san took some time evaluating the best approach, but the little fluffball vacated as soon as it was clear this one wanted a seat.” He scratched under the tomcat’s chin, winning a noise like the mangled cousin of a dying lawnmower. “What’s his name? And the little one’s name?”

Raidou poured two cups of sake, handing one over and nudging the plate of onigiri between them. “She’s Suki. He probably has a name, but since he just invited himself in and mostly took over the place, Shun and I have been calling him Bastard.”

“What does Namiashi-sensei call him?”

“Handsome,” Raidou said dryly.

“Poor handsome bastard,” Genma said, but he sounded amused in an exhausted kind of way. “At least one third of your family appreciates your rugged good looks.”

The tomcat closed his eyes in apparent agreement, settling his chin on Genma’s good knee. He was languid and relaxed, gently shedding on Genma’s shirt, and something in Genma’s face said he really needed to be someone’s chosen person right now, even if that someone was just a cat. Raidou shut up and ate an onigiri.