Exxcceerrpptt ffrroomm ККee GGuueesstt CCaatt by Takashi Hiraide Кe cat’s name was Chibi, which means “little one.” We could hear the boy’s particularly high-pitched voice calling the cat: “Chibi!” Кen we’d hear the sound of the boy’s shoes running around outside, followed by the tinkling of the little bell announcing the cat’s arrival. 1 Chibi was a jewel of a cat. Her pure white fur was mottled with several lampblack blotches containing just a bit of light brown. Кe sort of cat you might see just about anywhere in Japan, except she was especially slim and tiny. 2 Кese were her individual characteristics—slim and small, with ears that stood out, tapering off beautifully at the tips, and oѕen twitching. She would approach silently and undetected to rub up against one’s legs. At first I thought Chibi avoided me because I was not used to cats, but this seems not to have been the case. When a girl who oѕen passed along Lightning Alley stopped and crouched to gaze at the cat, it did not run away. But as soon as she attempted to touch it, the cat quickly slipped off, avoiding contact at all costs. Кe cat’s manner of rejection was like cold, white light. 3 Moreover, the cat rarely made a sound. As far as I remember, when it first appeared in the alley it made some sort of sound, but since then it had never let out a meow. It looked as if no matter how much time passed the cat was not going to let us hear its voice. Кis seemed to be the message the cat was giving us. 4 Another one of Chibi’s characteristics was that she changed the direction of her cautious attention frequently. Кis active behavior wasn’t limited to her kittenhood. Perhaps because she played alone most of the time in the expansive garden, she reacted strongly to insects and reptiles. And there were times when I could only conclude that she must be reacting to subtle changes in the wind and light, not detectable by humans. It may be that most cats share the same quickness, but even so, in Chibi’s case, it was acute—she was, aѕer all, the cat of Light