The Passengers on the Hankyu Line полностью

Mr Sakuraba had planned to wait until his wife was back before making a decision about keeping him. But she had no qualms at all.

‘Let’s adopt him,’ she said. ‘The kitten seems to get on well with Diana, too,’ she added. ‘You’re such a sweet cat now, aren’t you, Diana?’

The Persian cat puffed up with pride.

‘So, what shall we call him?’

‘We need to name the baby first.’

The family had to register a new baby’s name with the city hall within two weeks, and so Mr and Mrs Sakuraba had been discussing the matter of the baby’s name for quite a while. As the older boy’s name was Masahiro, the one thing they’d agreed on was that the new baby’s name should contain the same character, hiro.

Mr Sakuraba decided on the name Hiromi, while his wife, after much deliberation, wanted Kota – the ko being another reading of the character hiro. Neither would back down, and so finally they did paper-scissors-rock to reach a decision. Mr Sakuraba won.

Mrs Sakuraba seemed quite disappointed.

‘Hiromi … isn’t a bad choice, but won’t people mistake it for a girl’s name? I still think Kota might be better.’

‘No complaints, please. I won the game, fair and square. If you like the name Kota so much, why don’t we call the kitten that?’

And that’s how he came to be named Kota.

By the time little Kota was scampering around the house, baby Hiromi still had not learned to roll over. All he could do was shuffle his arms and legs around while swaddled in a blanket.

Do you think he’s okay? Kota asked worriedly, but Diana reassured him. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.

Masahiro had been exactly the same, according to her. Humans took longer to grow up than cats.

Even so it seemed to be taking a very long time. Kota often went to check on little Hiromi as he lay squirming around like a caterpillar.

Wonder if today’s the day he’ll stand up, thought Kota, fixing him with a good long stare. Nope, he’s still a caterpillar.

Hurry up and learn to stand. If your mother abandons you, then what? Kota suddenly remembered that his mother had left him behind because he had been such a weak kitten with extremely wobbly hind legs.

One day as he was nervously scanning Hiromi’s sleeping face, the baby’s eyes popped wide open.

No one had been able to tell if the baby could actually see anything much, but now those unseeing dark eyes seemed to be focusing at last.

And then he gave a little laugh.

Mrs Sakuraba came scurrying over.

‘I hope you’re not trying to bite him,’ she said.

That’s pretty rude, Kota thought and was about to stalk off, when Hiromi suddenly burst into a loud wailing.

‘Hmm … Do you want Kota to stay?’

Mrs Sakuraba patted Kota on the head, and put her hands together in apology. ‘I’m sorry. And here you were getting along so nicely.’

Ah well, she’s the mum, so best to cut her some slack.

Kota nestled down beside the baby’s pillow and Hiromi was now all smiles and contented gurgling.

‘Isn’t that nice, that Kota wants to have a cuddle with you?’

With a heart-melting smile, Mrs Sakuraba stroked Hiromi’s cheeks, and then gave Kota’s throat a fond scratch.

Ah, I get it. From the way Mum is smiling, it doesn’t look like she’s going to get rid of this caterpillar any time soon. All’s well that ends well, Kota thought, giving Hiromi’s milky-scented forehead a good lick, thus provoking another happy gurgle of laughter.

Kota began to curl up beside Hiromi every day, until Hiromi learned to roll over and around, then to crawl, then to stand on his own two feet, and finally to walk. Before you knew it, he was racing around the house like a member of some infant biker gang.

He fell down a lot though, and bumped into things, his motor skills still only half developed. Meanwhile, Kota was fast growing into a fully fledged adult cat.

Humans really do grow up so slowly, he lamented.

You’re right, agreed Diana. By the time the baby reaches Masahiro’s age, you could have become an adult five times over.

When Kota was still a kitten, Masahiro had looked huge to him, but now he seemed just like some young kid.

The fusuma sliding doors were by this time completely in shreds. They could repaper them all they wanted, but they still ended up in tatters. Mrs Sakuraba decided to let them stay ripped.

‘We have two gangsters in our house,’ she complained. This was about the time Hiromi was starting kindergarten and Masahiro had gone up to elementary school.