Chapter 1: Every Face Tells a Story

Time travel is an incredibly simple task.

The first step is to obtain an intimate understanding of the non-spatial continuum that is measured in terms of sequential events, quantifiable by rates of change in material reality or in the conscious experience.

The second step is to be a Crosser.

As far as Crossers go, Rover the Cat considered himself to be the quintessential example, right underneath the association's leader— the First. Some would call this a bit of an ego, but Rover was not one to brag; he was simply a bit of a teacher's pet, one may say, if "pet" were not an incredibly offensive insult. Well... considering that fact, then, animals WOULD call him a teacher's pet.

Rover, in the simplest words, was a cat of azure blue with a particularly acute sense of time. He liked to believe that was the reason— alongside his charismatic personality— that the first Crosser initiated him at all, and he never took that honor for granted. He accepted each assignment as if it would be his last and showed his appreciation in the tiniest things that he did. For example, he made sure to always arrive precisely five minutes early—not one second before or after—to every meeting, just like today.

Coming in from last week, the cat sat down on the creaky wooden stool designated to him in the silent conference room. In the pitch black emptiness, a golden spotlight flickered on above him, emitting a distant, soft buzzing sound to accompany him.

His red eyes swept along the large circle made of the twenty-three remaining birchwood stools; with no other Crossers to trigger spotlights, he could only make out the vague silhouette of them. He remembered a time when the gentle silence used to prickle anxiety along his fur, causing him to fidget and murmur to himself incessantly until someone else arrived. Now, approximately 3,346 days and 6 hours later, it soothed him.

Reaching into his pockets, Rover retrieved the cup of coffee he had ordered to-go just before arriving. It was from his favorite café, and he knew almost no better way to start an early morning meeting than with a "steaming cup of joe," as he liked to call it. Pleased, he swirled the contents around a bit, took a deep sip, and immediately spit it out in a noisy mess.

He had leaned nearly out of his chair, barely missing his jeans and boots with the projectile coffee. He hacked and coughed and aggressively wiped his tongue with the back of his free paw.

"Ugh! What the actual—?" Checking the date written on the cup's sleeve caused his eyes to widen in horror. 6/12. He bought it before the meeting, alright— one week before. He sighed. Fair enough. He was only a time traveler, not a genius.

Footsteps snatched his attention, and when Rover looked up, feet surrounded in chunks of moldy coffee, he found himself making direct eye contact with Sonny Resetti. The mole's eyes radiated raw disgust, almost as if he had been the one to drink it. Hm. I thought moles were blind.

Rover opened his mouth to explain himself, but Resetti shook his head and took his own seat three stools away. The cat awkwardly cleared his throat, feeling heat creep up his face. As he stuffed the traitorous cup into his pockets again, he discovered that one of his paws was still covered in the unfortunately lumpy substance. Not wanting to look like a fool, he quickly wiped it all off on his pants—instant regret. Now his jeans were smeared with the health violation, his paw was still sticky, and there was still a puddle of coffee at his feet.

Rover lifted his gaze. Resetti was now seven seats away, blatantly avoiding meeting the cat's eyes. Sitting up straight and placing his paws over the stains on his pants, Rover swallowed, forced on a big smile—though it looked more like a grimace—and croaked out: "Mornin'."

Receiving a silence that made him cringe as a response, Rover made the difficult decision to remain quiet until the meeting actually commenced. Look on the bright side: that went WAY better than last time.

✿ ✿ ✿

Three minutes and thirty nine seconds later, the Crossers began to arrive in a steady stream— on average, as Rover calculated, one every twelve seconds. Now there were nineteen seats filled with smiling, chattering faces of animals, all illuminated by the warmth of their spotlights.

Most of the animals were absolutely giddy to see each other again, while others were just annoyed that they had to come all the way back to present day for the conference. Having no one to talk to, Rover settled for listening to what his coworkers had to say. No, it's not creepy; why'd you ask?

To Rover's immediate left sat a tall, curvy giraffe with a blue neckerchief tied at the base of her long neck. She was looking down at the chihuahua a few seats away through her enormous round shades.

Alias: Gracie Grace. Seventh Crosser and self-proclaimed fashion extraordinaire. Real name remains unknown.

"Honey," she told the little dog, "there's no other time to be in than the present day. It's only in the now where there's style worthy of wow."

Rover nodded to himself in agreement; anything sounded wise in her confident tone. Butting into the conversation, though, was a peacock who sat in the opposite side of the circle. His bedazzled outfit glinted distractingly under the spotlight, making the cat blink a few times to readjust his vision.

"Impossible!" The peacock guffawed, a sassy cyan wing on his hip. "Pavé has been dancing in next month, and he is ALWAYS fabulous!"

Rover held back a snicker; he had always admired Pavé's undeniable passion for... himself. Pavé the flamboyant peacock— sixteenth Crosser and fourth holiday host. Has an exaggerated vigor to gyrate.

A little yellow kitten piped up, talking to the camel sitting next to her. Katie the traveling kitten: some would call her my younger—and less obnoxious—counterpart. She'll be our new twelfth Crosser, taking over the spot her mother once had, though Kaitlin was never really part of the association to begin with. She only obtained her pocket watch to search for her daughter, Katie, who at the time was a very slippery toddler that loved running off. There must be some sort of irony in Katie now willingly becoming a Crosser to adventure as she pleases.

"I've been practicing teleporting between rooms at home!" Katie clapped her hands together excitedly. "I want to control my timer just as well as Mommy did before the Transition began!"

Ah, yes... Transitions— the time span between two eras of our Animal Crossing world. They're basically an excuse for Crossers to take a load off; all holidays and events are cancelled until the new era begins, so barely any of us get assignments from the association. I, for one, only have to wake up the existing humans, as no new ones are allowed to enter our world during a Transition. You'd think that would be my favorite part, since I would have more time and space to travel as I please without constantly checking my watch... but it isn't. I love welcoming new kids.

Another spotlight flickered on to the other side of the camel. In came a rather salty looking kappa, wearing an old sailor's hat and bell bottoms.

Kapp'n Gar-I-Be-A-Pirate Insert-Last-Name-Here, fifth Crosser and a total crusty creep.

...Okay, MAYBE I'm being a little dishonest.

Rover lifted his chin with a goofy smirk. "Out of uniform again, I see. Where's that bus driver's outfit? Get fired?"

Kapp'n furrowed his brow. He paused before his seat and slowly turned to Rover's direction. The kappa glared pointedly at the puddle beneath Rover's feet before meeting his gaze again.

The cat gave a small shrug, looking as cool as anyone with brown stains on their pants could look. "Week-old coffee."

"Arr," Kapp'n nodded in understanding, "hope ye get food poisonin'." Then he sat down and shot Rover a sly smile, which was returned with an eye roll.

Now, there were only two seats left: one for the first Crosser, and the other for— Oh, speak of the devil.

A white cat appeared, and Rover's breath hitched in his throat. The newcomer's face was blank, nothing but an empty canvas without eyes, nose, or mouth. They wore an oversized pink hoodie with white flowers speckled about; this was out of uniform, too, but Rover didn't say anything.

Blanca the suspicious cat, seventeenth Crosser and professional mischief maker. I spent years of my life searching every timeline for them. Now, I do my best not to think of them at all.

Rover forced his gaze away from Blanca, though every cell in his body fought him, aching for him to turn and look. For just one second, he gave in, and found his heart immediately sinking. There they sat, relaxed and collected, tail flowing lazily in the air as they faced Pascal the otter. They weren't struggling against their very nature like Rover was. He didn't even cross their mind.

"Shh! He's coming!"

All twenty-three animals turned to face the final wooden seat, a sudden hush washing over. The first Crosser was finally here. A gentle whoosh of breeze and light encircled the stool, and, before long, their leader appeared; he had the warmest smile on his face.

✿ ✿ ✿

"How are all my cool cats doing this Saturday morning?"

The entire meeting room burst out in cheers and applause, almost every member yelling out how amazing— or actually pretty terrible— their days had been since their last meeting one year ago. Rover was unable to hold back a wide grin; he absolutely loved the energy and laughter that the first Crosser brought.

Mr. First, as the younger members called him, let out a small chuckle, placing his black guitar case on the floor before him. "Now that's far out, family, real far out."

Totakeke, the first Crosser. Known as K.K. Slider by all of his adoring fans, our leader is so mellow that he makes Resetti's turbulent migraines go away. He lets members call him anything from Leader to Sir to Mr. First, as long we don't say his real name. Why, you ask? I'm... not sure. It's not like any of us don't know who the famous musician is. Regardless, whenever I ask him, he somehow proverbs his way out of the question.

"Before gettin' to the nitty gritty, we've got to kick things off with the usual banter. I know it's not the hippest beat, but the Crosser code of conduct is only useful if it's remembered."

This got a couple of sighs from the group; reciting the association's pledge wasn't too popular of an executive decision. That is, not too popular with most of the crowd. Rover's hand immediately shot up and waved vigorously; he was just as passionate about the pledge as Pavé was about his own hips. "May I recite it again, Sir? Please?"

He heard muttering and groaning, but just like the first Crosser, he ignored it. "Third Crosser, you may."

The cat jumped out of his seat, splashing coffee all over his boots in the process. His red eyes were bright and wide, smile just the same; he placed a paw over his heart and said loud and clear: "The purpose of the Crosser association is to establish harmony between animal and human. Since the dawn of the first era, our golden timers have been used only for the reinforcement of peace and human wanderlust. We pledge to be loyal, secretive, and heartfelt— whether it be in the past, present, or future."

As his words ended, firm to the very last bit, he was soaked in the silence his coworkers gave him. Rover was unfazed; this happened every single time. At least the leader acknowledged his confidence.

"Mellow." He gave Rover a nod of approval. "What's our policy with the kittens?" Yeah, Boss always liked to call the humans kittens. I never figured out if I was supposed to be offended by that.

"Treat every human the same as the one before." Rover answered. "Smile at them like old friends and welcome them as you would any other animal." His fellow Crossers were starting to roll their eyes at him.

Another nod. "Cool. What are our working hours?"

"A Crosser's shift is never over!" The cat didn't miss a beat; he had done this a million times before. "Through day and night, rain or shine, past or future, we are there to secure the rights of every species."

"Groovy." Then a strange smile came upon the dog's mouth as he pinned his black eyes on Rover. "And what's the most important part of our missions?"

The cat was taken aback... he had never been asked that question. The other twenty-two animals had curiosity written all over their faces, and for the first time, they seemed interested in what the third Crosser had to say. Rover took in a breath and shook off any uncertainty he possessed: "The safety and happiness of every human!"

There was a small pause. Then, the dog shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, cool cat, but that's a sour note."

"Wait— what?" Then what are we doing all of this for? Rover frowned. He must've misunderstood; maybe I just worded it incorrectly. He was drawing a blank; he spent the past nine years working as a Crosser, and he didn't know their driving force? Impossible.

A familiar voice chipped in, smooth and coated in certainty. "It is the control of human activity." Blanca.

"Now that's a hip tune," the leader affirmed, and the gathering gave Blanca a small, scattered applause.

The control... of human activity...? Rover couldn't even find it himself to move, couldn't even control what sort of horrified expressions were flashing across his face.

"Hey, kid!" Mr. Resetti hit the floor with his pickaxe. "You can sit down now, ya know?"

In a bit of a daze, Rover obliged, not tearing his gaze away from his boss as he took a seat.

"And," the first Crosser continued, his voice overpowering all the rest, "that very rule's gonna be a big gig for our next assignment, Crossers."

An array of exclamations swept across the room.

"Wait, another mission? In a Transition?"

"That's odd..."

"Goodness, he better be joking."

But the first Crosser kept his cool. He was nodding his head to his own rhythm, eyes closed, arms crossed. He waited for the gathering to return to complete silence before saying: "There's a new kitten hitting the scene."

Time stopped.

✿ ✿ ✿

I'm not going to be dramatic and say that my life ended at that statement. It was only transformed, as I was. Everything fell apart right before me and finally came together all at once... all thanks to that bright-eyed human. The ever-broken Kosumo.

The entire room took in a breath. It simply couldn't be right. A pumpkin-headed figure, cloaked in deep purple, was the first to break the tense quiet. He raised his hand and spoke in his low, guttural tone. "Leader, are all entrances to Animal Crossing not closed off for Voyagers?"

"'Course they are!" Resetti snapped, face turning scarlet. "That's the whole POINT of Transitions! A human CAN'T come through! IT'S CRAZY TALK!"

Before the animals got out of control, Mr. First raised a paw. "Crossers, you've still got seven days; there's no need to get your tail in a knot—"

"BUT THERE IS!" Rover shot up from his seat again, unable to contain the sudden whirlwind inside of him. The wooden stool clattered to the floor, but his shouts were far louder. "There are no boundaries to contain that human— no safety net for them to fall in! Our world won't be able to hold that kid for long, Leader! They'll be flickering in and out of existence and fall right off of Animal Crossing's surface!"

But the first Crosser kept his hand out before him. "Hey now, Mr. Third, let's keep this party real mellow, alright?" He looked around the room and made eye contact with each and every one of them. "What's the second policy?"

"Treat ev'ry urchin da same." Kapp'n replied quietly, and the leader confirmed.

"Couldn't be groovier if I said it myself," then the boss smiled his most popular smile, "I need all you cool cats to welcome this kitten in like not a thing is different. Give them your best work, ya dig?" When a few nods and "mhm"s came back to him, the leader held out both paws. "Meeting adjourned."

Chattering commenced as the animals said their goodbyes and whispered their last complaints and disbeliefs. They began disappearing, one by one then two by two, wisped away by their golden timers. But Rover wasn't leaving.

He came forward to the association's founder. In a begging whisper, he said, "K—Sir, this can't be happening."

The dog raised one of his thick brows. "But it is, Kyle. Gotta complaint ya wanna file?"

"Wha— no, no." Well, actually, I got a couple. "It's just..." Rover sighed. "Please, please don't tell me this human is a Chosen; that could only mean one thing, and..."

The first Crosser pouted thoughtfully. "Hm... alright then, cool blue, I won't tell you."

As Rover's eyes widened in horror, a voice to his right let out a snort in a failed attempt to hold back laughter. Kapp'n, now is not the time. "Leader, I can't do this again. You know how much I love Realizing the kids— you must know— but not like this. Not when they're so fragile, and most certainly not when they're bound to disappear too soon."

The room was now empty except for the three of them. The first Crosser looked the cat in the eye. "Some things are only bound to happen, kiddo, and a lot of them aren't fair." He frowned. "But it's our job, and I know you take that seriously." Then he picked up his guitar case, readying to leave. "Good luck, cool blue." And he was gone.

There was silence now, and neither Rover nor the kappa could break it easily. Why? Why again? I stay out of the past because of it all, but it just keeps coming back. The cat rubbed his large eyes. He would be Realizing a new human in exactly a week...

"Lad." Kapp'n was still seated. "I gets that it be hard for ye, but ye gots ta let all that emotion go. Yer job is ta Realize 'em— no more, yar? Just do yer role, and don' be gettin' attached." The bus driver lowered his gaze to the floor. "I'll see ye next Saturday, matey."

The cat was left alone.

Rover the Traveling Cat, third Crosser and original Realizer. Talkative and nosy to a fault, his passion for adventure was rooted in the new faces he'd meet and the new friends he'd make. Nothing was more important to him than the stories of the humans he crossed paths with— not even his loyalty to the association. So when they told him to not get attached, he didn't make any promises.

✿ ✿ ✿

Original Version: 10/16/18
Revised Version: 04/01/2024

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