It was late afternoon, almost four o’clock. The cat sat at the front gate, swishing his long tail and watching the double doors. Any moment now, his girl would emerge, stride across the lawn, and give him a pet. He squinted in the anticipation of happiness. 

Soft orange light gleamed across the cat’s sleek, striped fur and splashed to the ground all around him; he cast no discernible shadow. Students from the elementary and middle schools passed along the sidewalk behind him without sparing a glance. No one even looked down at him. A little girl’s foot passed directly through his haunches without stirring a hair. Even when he began to purr, no one stopped to see him. The cat did not care. The only human who mattered was still inside the building he watched. 

The doors swung open suddenly, shoved with great force, and the cat’s ears twitched, but the humans who appeared were not his girl. He was only disappointed for a moment before he returned to his blissful vigil. The next time the door opened it would be her, he was certain of it. 

Again and again the doors opened, but the girl was not among the throngs of students leaving after-school clubs or cleaning duties. The cat continued to wait, his tail swinging absently back and forth. 

Finally, as the sun blazed to the horizon and the orange light grew red, his girl appeared. He saw her face for a flash in a second-story window, her hair catching the light, and a minute later she was outside, tugging a sleeve down. She lifted her eyes and spotted the cat immediately; she walked towards him. “Hey, Mochi-Mochi,” she said as she crouched to ruffle the fur between his ears. He melted with joy, purring and kneading his insubstantial claws against the cement. “Who’s a good kitty?” The girl scratched the underside of his chin and his purrs grew louder. 

“That’s Ikino, right? What… What the hell’s she doing?” Across the street, a pair of other high school students had stopped to talk; one of them was staring at the girl who rapturously petted air. They were not in her class, or they would have recognized her instantly. 

“No clue. Leave her alone, though. She threw a desk at the last guy who said something to her,” the other student said, slanting a quick look at Ikino to make sure she wasn’t hearing anything. “Sarezawa’s his name. He says she almost chased him out of class throwing shit. What a bitch.” 

“Her or Sarezawa?” 

“Both.” The two laughed at that and turned away from Ikino, who continued petting the cat they couldn’t see. She hadn’t heard their conversation, but if she had, she would have let it go. Sarezawa had picked a fight, had purposefully tried to hurt her, and she had dealt with him. She didn’t have time to deal with the ones who talked behind her back, just the ones that were stupid enough to talk to her face. 

Mochi patted her leg with his paw. As the dark closed in, Ikino got up and headed towards the cemetery, the ghost cat trotting along beside her. He could float, if he wanted, but he preferred walking.