A short while later, the cat that Hakuba had turned into began to feel very, very worn out. After all, the past three hours had been full of adventures. Walking, running, chasing, climbing, catching, murdering, more walking, stealing, and forcing paws to do things that they were not technically supposed to be able to do. 

Something about all of this, and the whole superiority complex that had been accentuated in the transformation, had his body moving into a curled up position by itself.

But, no! He had an hour left of the cursed M!A, and he was already an hour late to dinner with his father. No eclairs, no books, and no tea. Heatbreaking, really. Which made him feel even more exhausted. 

Would tea even taste good… to a cat?

The thought forced him to his paws, and he walked back to the courthouse proper, dug out his phone from the pile of clothes, and inspected the time because he couldn’t get his pocket watch to open. Yes, fifty two minutes precisely until the transformation would be over. It would be easy to take a twenty minute catnap for optimum efficiency, drag the clothing to a more private location, and then get dressed without any drama. Then, he could call his father, apologize, and reschedule. Simple. 

He picked the phone up in his mouth and carried it with him to the nearest tree, scaling it somewhat awkwardly from the bulk in his jaws. But once he was settled in the broad crook of a network of branches, he was able to grasp the device in his paws and set an alarm. 

Then, before he quite finished saving the new settings, he fell into a deep, blissful sleep. 

…

After the sparrow incident, Hakuba took great care in grooming himself and then walked back toward the court house. He was shaken, and frightfully aware of how the humans he passed looked at him. They knew that he was guilty. Didn’t have a collar, no tag or license, had killed a harmless little bird in the park – where children were present, no less! It was a dark, dark day for Hakubby. 

Just as he was beginning to feel new levels of pity for himself, he found himself in front of a suit shop. Hm. He sat in front of it, head tilting first one way, then the other. Ears perking, the cat managed a smile. 

Ah! So that’s what was missing! A TIE. 

In an effort to feel more human and subsequently like himself (??), Hakuba strolled into the shop and nodded to the attendant on his way to the rack with all of the ties, tail lazily flicking back and forth as he made his selection.

The shopkeeper stared in amazement, unsure of how to handle the situation, and only got out from behind the counter as the Hakuba cat made his way to the front with the tie clenched gently in its teeth. 

“You… have to pay for that…”  the shopkeeper offered lamely, frowning as the cat ignored him and walked right out the door again.

Fifteen or so minutes later, Hakuba sat on another bench near the courthouse, pleased at his quick and clever work of figuring out how to get it on and tied in a passable Windsor knot. His father would have complained, but he was a cat, for god’s sake. And- he realized then – he’d just committed yet another crime. 

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Somehow, the terrain under Hakuba’s paws had turned from cement and asphalt to grass and sod. He blinked, glancing at his surroundings. He was in a park of some kind… one ten or fifteen minutes away from the court house by foot. He flexed his claws, curious at the bits of bark that fell from them. Had he been in a tree? 

It was then that he noticed the tangy, metallic taste in his mouth, and the feathers that gathered at his feet. 

He spit the catch out and to the grass, but by then it was far too late. The sparrow was only partially there, and if Hakuba had to guess, the other half was in his stomach. With a moan, he rubbed at his face furiously with a paw, trying in desperation to wipe the blood off. But none of it could erase his horror and despair.  

Oh God, I’ve killed again!

Having had no luck removing the cross, Hakuba instead went about folding his clothing to stash, with the briefcase, underneath a bench on the walkway. It was a lot of effort, and he wasn’t sure what he would do when he turned back into his human self, but… at least it was less likely that his personal belongings would be stolen this way. 

Feeling somewhat accomplished, he hopped up onto the bench and looked around. Hunger. Overpowering hunger. He wiped a paw over his nose with a sniff. Really, it was remarkable how much he could relate to the 1926 Cox novel ‘The Professor on Paws’ at that very instant. 

Hakuba huffed, then leaped off the bench and strolled toward the sidewalk. Food. Food. Food. 

It was a lovely, sunny  afternoon when Hakuba took a cab into the city. From there, he proceeded on foot to the bank, his accountant’s office, and to the court house, which was his last stop before meeting his father for a very late lunch. Business went as planned, no surprises, everything  precisely on time and as expected. 

He stepped out of the court house doors and turned on his mobile, gazing from the top of the steps down to the busy streets below. A perfect day, really. No Hattori Heiji, no overblown heists, and no violent serial killers on his tail. 

A new email message popped up on the screen once the data connection had been established. It was from his father. 

‘Saguru – going to be late. Five o’clock okay instead?’

The teenage detective sighed, but smiled fondly. He’d expected – and planned – for this. It would give him two hours to stop by the used bookshop and the little French cafe next to it. Tea, a ‘new’ book, and a halfway decent eclair? Heaven! 

He called the senior Hakuba back, assured him that it was fine, fine, perfectly fine, and then took a moment to appreciate life as he put his phone away.  

But then… Something about the way the wind felt against his skin felt off.  And there was the distinct feeling of wrong in his stomach. He frowned. Dizziness, heart fluttering, and.. What.. ?

Hakuba staggered to a column to steady himself, briefcase clattering to the ground after slipping from his sweaty palms. He struggled to pull air into his lungs without any sort of success, gasping helplessly, and then-

Shit.

Oh bloody hell, this again?

The white Turkish Angora crept out from the pile of clothing that he left behind, frowning in disdain. Wandering cats were against city ordinance, and he was without license, tags, or collar. Though the crucifix necklace clung to his chest, snugly tangled in the fur around his neck, he was fairly certain that it would not count. 

This in mind, he started the task of removing it, sitting upright to make use of both paws… all while trying to ignore the fact that it looked unnatural and crazy and that he was on government property.

So much for his perfectly scheduled plans. But at least it wasn’t raining.