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Tick Tock, Tick Tock

I stared at the clock on the wall as the needle neared the fateful hour of my freedom. The office was silent at this late hour. The "Leo Investigation" detective agency had been busy this week between the pool scandal where our good old mayor, a most unsympathetic goat, had managed to cheat on his seven wives with his fur groomer, and the Rapist of Virtue, having targeted many young people venturing into the dark and dank Greenhood alleys. I needed a good rest.

Ding!

No sooner had I stood up than Leo walked through the door of his personal office. He was wearing his work shirt, showing off his muscular torso. His tight trousers and the meticulousness of his outfit, with a perfectly knotted tie, impeccably coiffed mane and precisely fitted cufflinks, demonstrated his care for appearance. As the city's first detective, he often appeared before the cameras, enjoying the attention. But few knew who really ran the agency after all.

"Ikita!" he called out to me as he picked up his mackintosh. "Be a good archivist and get the mayor's file and the few photos left on my table."

"Very well..." I confirmed, with little conviction.

"A little more spirit, for God's sake!" he snarled, wagging his tail briskly. "Packing up a few papers is not that difficult!"

I complied as the lion turned on his heels, humming as he picked up the glass of alcohol that I had to leave in that spot every night before he went out. And, like each day, I had to work an extra hour without getting paid. I wanted to throw the coffeepot on his face so badly that my whiskers twitched.

An hour later, my task done, I grabbed my sweater and walked out of the building, tucking my headphones under my hood. I selected my night playlist on my phone, and soft music filled my ears with a melodious chant.

It had rained heavily today, and a drizzle was still falling. The fine drops fell slowly, lit by the yellowish streetlights of the empty city streets, creating halos ringed with a multi-coloured fantasy. The music erased the anxiety-inducing atmosphere created by the screaming metal monsters on the large, dark, damp track that only the ghostly figures wandering on their way or the powerful glowing light of the pillars towering over them from the sky could stop.

It took me only a few minutes to reach the steel mountains crossing the river. I leaned on the railing, letting my wet tail sway nonchalantly.

A hundred metres away, the ferry was lighting up the surface of the murky, polluted waters of the provincial capital. The favourable wind brought me sweet smells of sugar and chocolate. I took off my headphones and switched off my phone to let the sea wind rub against the fur in my ears. It carried the sound and scents from the boat; a party was going on. I could make out the scent of ancient alcohol, the cooked blood of some unfortunate prey, and the bewitching but barely discernible voice of a young male cabaret singer.

I crossed my arms and legs, watching the empty sky lit by the few brightest stars. I missed the mountain sky with its thousands of distant fireflies terribly. The music started again in my mind when I closed my eyes to remember. The carelessness, the peace, the innocent pleasures, the smell of the trees -- all came back to me.

Often during my childhood, when I saw a shooting star, I vowed to have an interesting and adventurous life, chasing bad guys and criminals away from those they had harmed. However, I was just a child and did not know that these were the very people who controlled the world I wanted to discover.

I opened my eyes to see the sky split open with a glowing trail of light. Much larger than I remembered, a greater wish had to be made. I thought back to my meaningless life, exploited and invisible, serving a corrupted detective. I opened my mouth, and spoke my wish, that dream I had given up.

"I wish to help those who need help."