Chapter Text
The little white house wasn’t perfect, but it was beautiful.
The previous owner was an eldery witch, long due for retirement, and Akaashi could tell by her longing glances out the windows that she wished for an open place, somewhere that faced the sea, perhaps, and days filled with more golden sunlight than this old valley and its rolling clouds could provide.
She sold the house to Akaashi for a good price—much cheaper than he’d expected, to be honest, but it was probably because she felt bad for the amount of maintenance that he’d have to do. And he’d definitely had a mental list going as he toured the place, making note of the outdated burgundy walls, the ancient floorboards, a loose window pane that had a bad tendency to unlatch without warning, what was definitely an extended family of possums living in the attic, and a rather maudlin ghoul that haunts the basement bathroom.
But the house was beautiful, comfortable, and had a gorgeous sprawling garden, and Akaashi brought it without a second thought.
He spent the first week on a mad cleaning spree, dressed down in old jeans and a plaid shirt as he dusted every corner, ripped out the flooring, and tore down the ancient shelving units that looked like it might collapse at any second. Then came the rather violent wash, where he scrubbed the entire place down until it sparkled and every bit of grime stuck to the window panes and pipes were wiped clean. After a lengthy battle with the possum family upstairs (it involved a lot of screaming from both parties, Akaashi nearly falling off his roof, and tiny feet pattering frantically everywhere), he took a drive to a nearby city, where he brought new flooring, paint, and any other miscellaneous hardware supplies he suspected he’d need.
It was hard work, but for the first time in a long while, Akaashi felt like he was doing something right for himself.
The final product was a fresh, tidy house—smooth grey tiles in the storefront, a seafoam-blue coat on the walls, brand new hardwood shelving, and an antique chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting a warm, glowing light around his shop. He’s already started unpacking some of his work tools in the new space even though his supplies and stock won’t be delivered until next week. He’s excited and eager for a place to call his own. The storage in the back and the living space for himself upstairs still needs some work, but right now, the apothecary he’s always dreamed of was finally coming together.
It was a quiet Tuesday evening when his first visitor arrived.
Akaashi isn’t expecting anyone—not at the late hour, and definitely not when his store isn’t even open for business yet.
But his guest is an unconventional one; for starters, they didn’t even enter his store through the front door. Instead, as Akaashi is carefully unwrapping his favourite set of mortar and pestle, the tricky front window gives an alarming rattle before it unlatches entirely, and a furry mess of grey and white comes tumbling in with a yowl, knocking over a pile of books as it does.
Akaashi nearly drops the pestle in shock. He hurries out from behind the counter, instinctively grabbing one of the heavier scales with him as he does, but he needn’t have worried, really. Sprawled on the floor underneath his books is the biggest, most graceless cat he’s ever seen in his life. The creature is twisting and turning, making truly pitiful meows as they tried to crawl out from beneath the heavy, leather-bound volumes. Akaashi sets the scales aside.
“Hey now,” he murmurs, carefully lifting the books. The cat jumps and spins around, looking up at him with wide gold eyes. It’s gorgeous; its fur is a soft salt-and-pepper colour, its ears are perked and twitching, and its tail is a long, floofy one. Akaashi smiles and sets the books aside, holding his hand out to the cat. It gives his fingers a little sniff, a tentative lick, and then it’s immediately rubbing against his palm, demanding a scratch. Akaashi laughs and gives the cat a light rub under the chin.
“You scared me,” he says. “I thought you were the possum family coming back for revenge.”
The cat tilts its head and gives a little mrreow?
“They’re sneaky little bastards,” Akaashi nods. “Had a whole nest going upstairs in my attic, and I hate to shoo them off, but it’s not very sanitary to have wild animals living in the same place I sell perishable goods in. You’re not a wild cat, are you?” he adds, squinting, and the cat makes a very definitive meow! before leaping up, landing on Akaashi’s shoulder and leaving him with a face full of fur. The cat smells like grass and earth.
“Hey! That’s not very nice—oh, wow, alright then.” Akaashi sputters when the cat turns, giving him a perfect view of his rear end, tail held jauntily up high. “Well, you are definitely very male. Who do you belong to, mister cat?”
Mrreow , the cat purrs, the vibrations rumbling down Akaashi’s shoulder and arm, which isn’t much of an answer. He sighs, carefully stacking the books back, and stands to shut the window. He really ought to get it fixed—who knows what kinds of new visitors might drop in too?
The cat curls around his shoulders, making himself comfortable, and Akaashi wonders if this animal might be someone’s familiar, or companion. This isn’t normal cat behaviour, is it?
“I still have to finish unpacking,” he tells the cat. “You can hang around, if you want, but don’t touch anything, alright?”
The cat rumbles again, bumping his head against the side of Akaashi’s cheek. When he walks back to the counter, the cat jumps down from his shoulders, loops through the supplies he’s laid out, and immediately settles in front of his collection of scoops, tilting his head this way and that, as though checking his reflection on the polished metal surfaces. Then he grins, opening his jaw to reveal pointed teeth, and makes a huffing sound, almost like a laugh.
Definitely not normal cat behaviour.
But Akaashi’s not too bothered; he’s seen more than his fair share of magical animals growing up, and this cat doesn’t seem like it’s up to anything nefarious, so he continues to unpack and stack away his supplies for the night. The evening passes by rather uneventfully after that, with the cat watching Akaashi work, and occasionally sniffing at his jars and pots. It’s only when Akaashi yawns and gives a bone-popping stretch that the cat stands, pads across the counter, and gives Akaashi a series of chittering meows.
“You’re leaving?” Akaashi blinks, and the cat turns around a few times in a circle. “I guess you do belong to somebody then. Well, you shouldn’t keep them waiting.” He walks over to the door, unlocking and opening it. The bell tinkles and the cat leaps off the table, but lands in a weirdly unsteady heap on the floor before slipping outside. Akaashi chuckles.
“Come back anytime,” he says to the cat, like he’s a customer, and the cat gives him one last meow! before he runs down the stone path and disappears into the bushes on the side of his lawn.
The cat doesn’t come back for a few days, and despite the amount of unpacking and organizing he’s going through, Akaashi can’t help but wonder what the funny creature is up to. He hopes the cat is well—he’s never met a cat that can’t land properly on its own feet—and has taken to peering outside into the bushes when he’s on a break. It feels a bit foolish to wait for an animal, though, so Akaashi tries to stay busy with his work. Not that he has a lot of downtime, in all honesty.
With the storefront ready to go save for his stocks of herbs, plants, and other magical items, Akaashi has been alternating his time between painting his new sign, printing posters for his new store, and decorating his living space upstairs. All his life he’s grown up in the coldy grandiose and spacious rooms of the Akaashi family manor, with looming marble statues and towering shelves full of delicate artefacts, untouchable magical tools, and rare, ancient texts.
It’s nothing like the little house he now lives in, with ceilings so low that he has to duck to get through the rooms sometimes. He moves his plants in, letting them acquaint themselves with the tiny balcony and the cramped spaces of his bedroom and kitchen windowsill. The radiator rattles ominously sometimes, but never fails to warm his entire bedroom. The old witch also left behind some furniture, all of which are mismatched but well-loved, and he puts up some new paintings he purchased from a little art store in town.
The house is small, humble, and absolutely nothing like the manor. Akaashi loves it.
His shipments are due to arrive any day now. Akaashi goes to the bank, takes out some loose change and bills, hangs up some fliers at the public bulletin boards, and drops by the old antique store in town to purchase a historic-looking cash register.
There’s also a nice set of bowls that catches his eye; a twin set of blue and white ceramics, glossy from the lacquer painted over top. He purchases them and picks up a bag of organic kitty treats from the pet store before he could think too deeply of it.
He’s in the storage room in the back, sorting through bags of dried herbs when he hears the window rattling in the front again. There’s a squeak, a thump, and a series of indignant meows. Akaashi grins, unable to help himself, and walks back to the front.
The cat is standing in the middle of his store, head thrown back as he meows in the most dramatic fashion. When he catches sight of Akaashi walking into the room, he meows eagerly and takes a running leap for the counter, nearly slipping off the edge when he lands.
“Careful,” Akaashi admonishes, lifting his hand for the cat to sniff and rub against. “You’re not very steady on your feet, are you?”
The cat turns his nose into the air, huffing indignantly.
“Well, it’s the truth. Hey, now, don’t pout.” The cat is definitely pouting. His ears are all droopy now, tail swishing low, making sad clicking noises.
“Here, I wasn’t going to show you yet, but…” Akaashi reaches underneath the counter and lifts up the two ceramic bowls. The cat perks up. “I brought these for you. Figured you might like a snack and a drink if you stopped by, right?”
The cat meows again, loud and insistent, and Akaashi laughs. “Yes, alright, just one moment.”
He fills one of the bowls with cool tap water and shakes a few treats into the other; he sets them down underneath the open window, the busted latch swaying cheekily in the afternoon breeze, and the cat immediately goes in for the food bowl. He lets Akaashi pet him as he eats, happily crunching the little snacks.
“I’ve got to be careful not to spoil you,” Akaashi muses. “I’m sure your owner would not be too pleased if you gained extra weight from my snacks.” He ruffles the soft fur behind pointed ears. “Hmm...have you got a name? Well, I’m not sure if you could tell me even if you did have one. May I give you one?”
The cat pauses in his snacking, tilting his head up to look at Akaashi. His gold eyes are bright in the sunlight.
“Mister Pepper? Is that alright?” Akaashi asks. “You have such lovely fur.”
A happy meow is the answer, and Akaashi takes that as a yes.
“Do you know my name? Akaashi,” he says, pointing at the brand new sign hanging outside, the wood painted a matching seafoam blue with a neat white trim. It reads Akaashi’s Apothecary in crisp block letters. The cat peers through the glass, then back at Akaashi.
“Ah-kaah-shi,” Akaashi says, sounding each syllable out.
Nothing could’ve prepared him for the fresh torrent of meows that come his way. The cat looks far too excited, jumping up onto the windowsill and twisting and turning, meowing at the top of his voice. Meeeeeerow! Meeeerow. Meeeerrrooooow!
Somehow, Akaashi feels like he’s opened up some kind of an unspoken floodgate with that one.
The apothecary officially opens on a sunny Wednesday morning, and Akaashi is pleased to see that there’s a small crowd of curious people hovering outside his shop. He doesn’t live too far away from the town, which is a bright and bustling place, and he’s sure a lot of people knew the old witch, who did some kind of fortune telling in her home from what he recalled. He’s nervous, but he’s ready; he dons his apron, welcomes everyone in, and hands out samples of healthy herbal tea while his new customers peruse his shop. He can tell a lot of people are surprised by how young he is—herbology and the healing arts are not very trendy subjects for aspiring young magicians to study. It’s an age-old subject full of cumbersome and outdated practices that even Akaashi finds boring at times, and a generally more looked-down upon branch of the magical arts because of the amount of labour and hands-on work involved.
But he sees the way young children stare with wide-eyed awe at the blossoming plants he keeps in his terrariums, the relief in his elderly patrons’ faces when he tells them he can procure a spell and herb mixture for their ailments, and finds that he doesn’t mind the work at all.
He’s just finished packing and sealing a set of roots and crushed bark for a patron complaining of painful headaches when he hears the familiar squeak and rattle of his front window.
“ Kitty! ” a girl yells happily, and all the children rush over to where Mister Pepper sits on the windowsill, preening under all the sudden attention he’s getting. Akaashi almost laughs out loud. He wipes his hands down and brings out the bag of treats.
“Is he your familiar?” a boy asks when Akaashi walks over.
“He’s just a friendly neighbourhood cat,” Akaashi says. “I call him Mister Pepper. Would you like to give him a treat?”
“Yes please,” the boy breathes, excited, and Akaashi is suddenly swarmed by children asking to feed Mister Pepper treats as well.
“Just hold out your hand to him, like that,” he tells the kids. “It’s okay, he’s very friendly. You can give him a little scratch between the ears too, if you want.”
Mister Pepper eagerly gobbles down the proffered treats and accepts the pets, but when Akaashi starts to move away he takes an almighty leap and barely manages to stick the landing on Akaashi’s shoulder.
“Cool!” one of the boys yelled.
Mister Pepper purrs, rubbing his chin all over Akaashi’s head, belly rumbling like an engine. Akaashi gently lifts him off his shoulder and settles him at the corner of the counter.
“No cat fur in the herbs,” he says, pretending to be stern. That earns him a lengthy set of meows and chitters, but Mister Pepper stays dutifully seated, and only leans down to let children pet him on the head when asked politely.
“What a well-behaved cat you have,” a woman chuckles.
“He is,” Akaashi agrees. “Just very talkative.”
“Ah, well, cats have their own plans, don’t they?” she says, and then requests something to help soothe her stomach pains.
It is, at the end of the day, a very successful opening.
Mister Pepper stays well past closing time, long after the sun has gone down and Akaashi has flipped the Open sign to Closed , counted the day’s earnings, and turned off the lights in his store. He follows Akaashi around, sniffing and poking at the boxes, and when Akaashi starts to head upstairs he circles the bottom and gives a tentative little meow.
“Would you like to stay?” Akaashi asks. “I’m making fish for dinner.”
The grey-and-white blur that zips past him up the steps is a definite yes.
He pan fries the fish that night, steams some vegetables on the side, and pours himself a nice glass of wine. He carefully cools off a portion and spoons it into Mister Pepper’s snack bowl, sets it on the table across from his own, and enjoys a lovely dinner with a cat.
When he’s done the dishes, Mister Pepper plants a furry little paw against the window, giving Akaashi an expectant look over his shoulder. Something funny turns in his chest; it’s a little bit sad, perhaps, but he opens the window all the same.
“Thanks for dropping in today,” Akaashi says. “Everyone loved you. Feel free to come by again any time.”
Mister Pepper bumps his head cheerfully against Akaashi’s wrist before jumping out the window, aiming for the long tree branch but nearly falls out because of his terrible balance. The entire branch shakes and leaves spiral to the yard below.
“Be careful!” Akaashi yells, heart pounding, and he doesn’t dare close the window until he sees Mister Pepper land on the fence and the jaunty grey cat tail vanish into the shrubbery of his backyard. “Good grief, this cat.”
He changes for bed, satisfied with his day, and curls up for a well-deserved sleep.
The loose window latch remains unfixed after that.
Mister Pepper becomes a bit of a fixture in his life. He’s the apothecary’s unofficial mascot; his good manners and cheerful attitude is a hit with the children and mothers when they drop by the store. Akaashi buys more treats, adds a few cat toys to his repertoire, and eventually allows Mister Pepper to ride on his shoulders around the store as he explains various the medicinal properties of different herbs, roots, and plants to curious customers. He also starts to accumulate a healthy group of regulars.
There’s Sarukui, a cheerful young man who drops to pick up loose leaf teas for his grandmother, and Washio, the son of a carpenter who frequently asks for a spell and medicine to help his father’s joint pains. There’s a chatty magician’s apprentice named Konoha who likes to swing by for snacks and inquire about herb samples his professor wants, and two ladies named Yukie and Kaori, cousins who own a bakery in town, who wanted to start a contract with Akaashi and sell his herbal teas at their store.
They’re cheerful folk, all of whom take to Akaashi quite easily despite his naturally quiet and reserved personality. Akaashi finds that he doesn’t mind their company either, because they’re content to let him work while they talk, but mostly because Mister Pepper seems to like all of them.
He figures he ought to wonder more about Mister Pepper’s owner, because despite the cat’s frequent outdoor wanderings, he’s definitely looked-after. He’s still got fluffy, pristine fur, neatly trimmed claws and a clean, earthly scent to him. He’s considered putting up flyers a few times in the town, asking if someone knows the owner of the cat, but decided against it—Mister Pepper never stays overnight, and always seems to wander off with a confident little trot, like he knew where he was going. Maybe his owner didn’t care, or didn’t mind their animal companion wandering around, and Akaashi certainly wasn’t going to question it. Not when he enjoyed Mister Pepper’s company and ‘chats’ so much.
Early spring bleeds into the start of an early summer, and business continues on as usual. The valley comes to life in the summertime, with blooming flowers and lush green grass, and the very air seems sweetened by the scent of nature.
Akaashi’s in the middle of drafting up tentative plans for a greenhouse in the backyard on a slow afternoon when it happens.
Mister Pepper, who had been napping in a spot of sunlight by the squeaky window, jolts upright without warning and goes off on a loud, meowing tirade. Akaashi looks up, confused, and then he sees the flurry of black feathers and a large, familiar raven settle on the windowsill outside. His blood runs cold.
The raven taps her claw on the glass, polite but insistent. She’s holding an envelope between her beak.
Akaashi drops his pencil and stumbles over on wobbly knees, his heart beating frantically in his chest. Mister Pepper meows at him, circling the windowsill in confusion, but Akaashi gently lifts him aside and shakily opens the window.
The raven hops inside, shakes her feathers once, and holds the envelope with her beak. His name, Keiji , is written in neat, inky cursive on the pristine white paper. He takes it.
Mister Pepper meows loudly, hopping back up onto the windowsill, and noses at the raven. He’s not being pushy, but he does seem a bit cautious, if a bit defensive. The raven makes a loud squawk, shakes her feathers in a rather self-important way once more, and gives Akaashi a knowing look before she hops back outside and takes to the air. Akaashi closes the window robotically. He turns the envelope over, where, stamped over the flap, is a familiar blood-red wax seal.
He’s both unsurprised and disappointed that she’s found him already.
A quiet little meow catches his attention again. Mister Pepper gazes up at him, golden eyes watching him steadily, and Akaashi shoves the envelope into his apron pocket without looking at it again.
“Not every day we get mail, hm, Mister Pepper?” he manages. The cat rumbles, stretches, and then jumps onto his shoulder again. He’s gotten better at it; definitely not as unbalanced as he used to be, and it makes Akaashi laugh. “You’re right, she was a very prissy bird, wasn’t she? Well, no matter, we’ve got to finish packaging Yamiji-san’s spells. The errand boy will be here any minute now.”
He manages not to think about the letter for the rest of the day, even though it sits like a lead weight in his apron. He sends more packages out, does some supply prep, and spends the rest of his afternoon brewing batches of potions for stock. It’s tedious work, and he entertains the thought of taking on an assistant at the apothecary once he’s ironed out his work schedule.
Mister Pepper hangs around longer that night, happily purring on the counter while Akaashi does the dishes and explains the different parts of his greenhouse plans until the sun has gone down.
“You ought to go soon, before it gets too cold out,” Akaashi tells the cat as he unlatches the window. Mister Pepper mews at him, hopping up onto the windowsill, but before he goes, he stands on his hind legs and plants his little paws firmly on Akaashi’s chest. He stretches up and gives him a tiny nip on the chin, in an almost reassuring way, leaving Akaashi to stare at the cat when he finally drops onto all fours again.
“Uhm. Well, thank you. Don’t worry, I’m feeling better already.”
Mister Pepper chuffs at him, almost like a dog, and then jumps for the tree again and shimmys away into the darkness.
It’s a bit lonely after that. Akaashi changes quickly into his sleepwear and crawls under the covers, but not before fishing the envelope out of his apron pocket. He weighs the hefty paper in his palm, wondering what the letter might say. The seal is a stark colour against the snowy-white backdrop, with the intricate design of the Akaashi family crest pressed into the wax.
He really ought to throw it away into the fireplace, but Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to—he’s a coward through and through, and instead of cutting ties like he’d swore he would, decides to open the drawer in his nightstand and shove the letter underneath his belongings instead. Then he turns off the lights and yanks the covers over his head, falling asleep to confusing and unhappy dreams.
It’s an uncharacteristically rainy day when an emergency strikes.
Business has, thankfully, been slow due to the relentless downpour that started when the low clouds rolled into the valley mid-morning, darkening the skies quickly. The rain followed soon after, coming down without a warning, and Akaashi had to dash upstairs to bring his laundry in before everything got soaked.
He’s just about to close early for the day when the front door bangs open, making the bell chime erratically. Mister Pepper yelps and leaps onto the counter.
Standing at the doorway is a young girl of about thirteen or fourteen, her brown hair in pigtails and her dress soaked from the rain.
“Are you Akaashi, the magician?” she demands.
“That’s me,” Akaashi says, alarmed. “Is everything alright?”
“Please,” she cries, dashing in and flinging water everywhere. “My older brother—he fell and cut his leg while logging this morning, and we think it’s gotten infected. He’s got such a terrible fever and the cut has gone all blue and purple and Alisa’s worried that his condition will worsen tonight and I—I don’t know what to do!”
Her lip wobbles, tears pooling in her eyes, and Akaashi hastens to her side.
“Let me gather my things,” he says, trying to soothe her as best as he could. “Do you know what region he was logging in?”
“T-The northwest lot over the valley,” she sniffles. Akaashi nods, whipping off his apron. He hasn’t done house calls in a long time, but he’s still got his travel bag packed and stocked, just in case. He goes through his shelf and storage, shoveling jars and packages of anything he feels might be useful; numbing herbs, plants with antioxidant properties, immunity-boosting mixes.
When he returns, Mister Pepper has jumped off the counter top and is busy snuggling up to the girl, purring madly. The girl sniffles and crouches down so she could hug the cat tightly, crying against his fur.
“What’s your name, miss?” Akaashi asks kindly. He rummages through the closet and brings out the smallest coat he has.
“Akane,” she replies, and lets him drape the coat around her shoulders.
“Let’s go, Akane,” he says. “You can bring Mister Pepper too, if you want. I will drive us over.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, and lets him usher her out the door, clutching Mister Pepper to her chest as they go.
The rain comes down in torrents as he drives, following Akane’s directions as best he could with his wipers working overtime. Fortunately, the Yamamoto family lives in a cottage just on the outskirts of the village; Akane directs him up a path in the forest to a large cabin partially hidden amidst the trees. The door opens wide as they clamber out of the car, and a tall, silver-haired man shouts, “Akane-chan? Is that you?”
“It’s me!” she shouts back. “I’ve brought the magician!”
“This way,” the man says, looking stressed. He leads Akaashi through a warm, cozy living room and kitchen, and into one of the bedrooms in the back. A young man with short hair lay on his bed, feverishly twitching, his shirt sticking to his chest from the sweat. The bottom of a pant leg has been rolled up, revealing a deep gash that, true to Akane’s words, has gone blue and purple. A young woman who looks a lot like the silver-haired man is carefully dabbing at the wound with a washcloth and a basin of hot water. Akaashi guesses she’s Alisa.
“Let me take a look,” he says, and she nods, moving aside.
“We think he fell onto a poisonous plant of sorts, in the forest,” she says. “Or came into contact with something on the tree.”
“That seems to be the case,” Akaashi murmurs, digging through his bag. He pulls on a pair of gloves and inspects the wound carefully. “The toxins would normally just cause a rash on the skin and would heal once it’s washed off, but it’s entered his bloodstream from the cut. It’s not lethal, but it’s still not good.”
He pulls out a mixture of jars and packets from his bag and carefully measures out a handful of roots, a couple of dark, plump berries, and a variety of dried plants. “Grind everything together and boil it in a full pot for twenty-five minutes,” he tells Alisa. “Strain any big pieces, cool it, and bring a bowl of it back. Akane, go find as many pillows as you can. We have to elevate your brother’s leg.”
The girls dash off, leaving Akaashi, the silver-haired man, and Mister Pepper in the room.
“Will he be alright?” the man asks, twisting his fingers anxiously. “Yamamoto swore he was okay after the fall, but he passed out as we were eating lunch. I brought him home and he’s gotten worse since then.”
“He’ll be fine,” Akaashi assures him. He murmurs a cooling spell and settles it over Yamamoto before mixing together a paste in his bowl; the scent is sharp and potent, and it turns into a rather unattractive yellow, but the moment he slathers the paste onto the wound Yamamoto lets out a deep, unconscious sigh.
Mister Pepper hops nimbly up onto the bed and settles by Yamamot’s head, purring so loudly they could hear it over the sounds of Alisa cooking and Akane scavenging for pillows in the cottage.
“Your familiar is very beautiful,” the man notes, reaching out to pet Mister Pepper on the head.
“He’s not mine, exactly,” Akaashi admits. “But he is very friendly. And this is his way of helping.”
“Good kitty,” the man hums, and Mister Pepper’s purring grows stronger.
Akane returns with the pillows, and together with Lev, the silver-haired man, they prop Yamamoto’s legs up. Akane brings him a stool, and Akaashi continues to clean the wound and slather it in with the paste until Alisa returns with the potion. They carefully prop Yamamoto up, tip the liquid down his throat, and then laid him back down once the bowl was empty.
“I’ll stay with him for the night,” Akaashi announces as he wraps Yamamoto’s leg and carefully places a healing spell over the bandages. “He’ll have to drink another bowl just before daybreak and I will re-apply the paste. However, his fever should go down by morning, and all that’s left is to wait for the toxins to exit his body naturally.”
“Thank goodness,” Alisa says, hugging Akane tight. “Thank you, Mister Magician.”
“I’m just Akaashi,” Akaashi smiles. “And don’t worry, I’m happy to help. Why don’t you all go get some sleep? You must be tired.”
It takes a bit more gentle nudging, but eventually the siblings head home and Akane trails off to her room, but not before bringing Akaashi a warm blanket and a cup of piping hot coffee that Alise had made for him. The night settles after that, and Akaashi writes a spell to wake himself just before sunrise. He winds the blanket around himself, and Mister Pepper immediately perks up, padding over the soft bedding to plop onto Akaashi’s lap.
“He’ll be alright,” Akaashi hums, stroking along the soft fur on Mister Pepper’s back. “Thanks for helping out. You really have become the apothecary cat, haven't you? I wonder what your owner thinks of that.”
Mister Pepper gives a sleepy meow, and soon they’re both dozing off in the quiet bedroom together.
True to his word, Yamamoto’s fever breaks early in the morning, and he’s coherent enough to sit up and drink the potion himself by the time Akane wakes and wanders into the room.
“Idiot brother!” she cries, smacking him in the arm. “You worried everyone!”
“Ow!” Yamamoto complains. “Careful, I’m an injured man.”
His sister turns her nose up, gathers a purring Mister Pepper in her arms, and marches out of the room, into the kitchen. “I’m going to make porridge for breakfast. Stay in bed and don’t bother the nice magician!”
“Sheesh,” Yamamoto grumbles, but he’s smiling. “Thanks for your help, Akaashi. We owe you one.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Akaashi replies. “Thank your sister, who ran across the village in the rain to ask me for help. Take care in the future, alright?”
“I will,” Yamamoto says solemnly. “She’s a good kid. I think she’s obsessed with your cat now, by the way.”
“Don’t be fooled, Mister Pepper loves the attention,” Akaashi laughs. “He was more than happy to tag along and offer his services.”
“You know, I was wondering why it felt like there was an earthquake going off beside my head last night.”
News of his aid to the Yamamoto family spreads like wildfire, largely because the Yamamoto family is well-liked, and also because Akane seems to have taken it upon herself to spread word of Akaashi’s heroic acts across the city. He finds himself on the receiving end of many compliments, and awkwardly accepts a whole tray of baked desserts and fresh fruits from Yamamoto, his sister, and Alisa one afternoon. A few more house calls come his way, though thankfully none as urgent as the first. Akaashi attends to a man with a cough, a young child with a fever, and a poor girl who developed a rather complicated rash after eating a wild berry.
Business picks up its pace, and Akaashi finds himself swept up in his daily routine and visits from his regulars with Mister Pepper eagerly trailing by his side. In fact, he’s grown so used to his animal companion that Akaashi doesn’t even realize when the cat had made itself a permanent part of his home and shop—the food bowls are always filled with fresh water and snacks, little toys lay scattered around his home upstairs, and there’s a soft, cat-shaped dent in his chair beside the window, where Mister Pepper has taken to napping during the day and sleeping in once he started staying overnight.
It’s nice, Akaashi realizes. He’s busy with work, he’s making friends in the village, and he’s got a cat now, of all things, who’s friendly and somehow manages to talk back at him.
For the first time in a while, he’s truly happy.
The bell over the door tinkles on a bright summer’s afternoon, and when Akaashi glances up from his rather complicated measurements on his scales, he’s surprised to see an unfamiliar man with dark, messy hair in his doorway.
“Welcome,” he says. “I’ll be with you in just a moment.”
“Of course,” the man nods, polite. “Take your time.”
A subtle kind of energy radiates off him; magical, light, and curious. It pokes gently around the apothecary, and then focuses on the cat bowls on the floor, and Mister Pepper’s favourite stuffed owl lying next to it.
There’s a loud scrabbling noise from the back room, and the man spins around, eyes wide. A second later, a grey-and-white blur rockets across the floor and barrels into the man’s front.
“Holy shit!” the man yells, and Akaashi drops his tin of roots in shock.
“Mister Pepper!” he shouts, but the cat just loops up and circles around until he’s settled on the man’s shoulders, meowing loudly and happily. Akaashi freezes—he’s never seen Mister Pepper do that with anyone else but him.
The man is laughing too, clearly over his surprise, and he’s trying to tug at the cat, but Mister Pepper is purring and wiggling all over him. “You sneaky little bastard! Here I was, worried sick about you, thinking you’ve been eaten by a wolf or something, but turns out you were here getting fat on snacks the whole time! Do you have any idea how far I looked for you? I even went to the Royal City, for crying out loud!”
Mister Pepper meows back and tries to put his paws into the man’s eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, obviously you had it good. You’re damn lucky I dropped by to visit Yamamoto the other day; the second he told me about some fat grey-and-white cat, I knew it was you—ow! Ow, you little bugger, get your claws off me!”
“Um,” Akaashi says, hesitantly.
Both the man and Mister Pepper jump, like they’d forgotten Akaashi was there. Something twinges hurtfully in his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” the man says, sheepish. “Where are my manners? I’m Kuroo Tetsurou; I’m an architectural magician from the city over.”
“Akaashi Keiji,” Akaashi says, and shakes Kuroo’s hand when he walks over to the counter. “I’m the herbologist and magician who owns this apothecary.”
“I’ve heard many good things about you,” Kuroo smiles. “You’ve got a really nice place. It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Akaashi murmurs, inclining his head. He glances at Mister Pepper, who finally clambers down from Kuroo’s shoulder to settle himself on the counter top. “You know Mister Pepper.”
“Mister Pepper,” Kuroo repeats gleefully, looking down at the cat, who bares his teeth. “I do, as a matter of fact. I’ve known him for a very long time.”
Akaashi’s heart clenches painfully. “Are you his owner?”
Mister Pepper makes a very indignant noise.
“I’m not,” Kuroo laughs. “Definitely not. But, uh, I do know the person who’s looking for him. They’ve been looking for him for a very long time now, because this naughty kitty cat has gotten himself into a spot of trouble! And it’s never good to leave problems of the magical variety alone for too long.”
Akaashi pales. “I’m very sorry,” he whispers, ashamed. “If I had known there was a problem, I wouldn’t have kept the cat here—I should’ve put up signs, or something, but he always came and went as he pleased so I assumed he had an owner he returned to—”
Kuroo quickly waves him off, shaking his head. “No, no, I should be the one apologizing. I wasn’t very careful with him, and he snuck out by accident. He must’ve caused you a lot of trouble when he first showed up. He’s a cheeky brat sometimes.”
“He was lovely,” Akaashi says, casting a sidelong glance at Mister Pepper, who puffs up happily. “It was nice to have a companion around the shop.”
“I see,” Kuroo says, and looks at Mister Pepper for a long moment. “Well, I’m sure there’ll be a chance for him to return in the future. He is a very free-spirited cat, after all.”
“Of course,” Akaashi nods. “He’s always welcome. He’s—he’s not ill, is he?” The sudden thought strikes him with a panic. Has Mister Pepper been sick the entire time? How had Akaashi not noticed? He didn’t know anything about cat care at all!
“No! No, not exactly,” Kuroo says, and scratches his head in frustration. “It’s, ah, it’s hard to explain. But there is a cure for his problem, so to speak.”
“I see.” Akaashi nearly sighs with relief. “Well. In that case…” he trails off awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
But Mister Pepper simply hops up onto all fours and cuddles up against Akaashi’s front, purring softly, and he doesn’t stop until Akaashi gives him a gentle scratch behind the ears.
“Take care, Mister Pepper,” he says softly. When he looks up, Kuroo is staring at him with the most curious expression. Flushing, Akaashi steps back and clears his throat, gesturing awkwardly at the cat. “Um. Please, go ahead. You must be busy; I won’t hold you up.”
“Don’t worry about him, Akaashi,” Kuroo says as he gathers Mister Pepper up in his arms, like he’s carrying a baby. Mister Pepper sits with all his paws sticking up, tongue out in a little blep. “He’ll be back before you know it.”
Mister Pepper gives a bright little meow as if in agreement, and then the bell tinkles again and the two of them are gone, leaving Akaashi alone in a little store that suddenly feels far too empty.