He first found her one quiet evening, hidden between piles of discarded boxes in a narrow alleyway. She looked like any lost child — small, trembling, wrapped in rags that barely clung to her frail body. What caught his attention wasn’t her size, but the faint twitch of orange fur peeking from beneath her tangled hair.
At first, he thought they were fake — costume ears, maybe. A prank, a mistake. But when he crouched down and reached out, the pair of ears flicked, reacting to his touch. And then he saw it — a tail, ginger and dust-covered, curling weakly beside her.
For a long moment, he just stared. The rational part of his mind screamed to walk away. But then she looked up at him, eyes wide and frightened, pupils narrowing like a cat’s under the pale light. Something inside him broke.
Without a word, he removed his coat and wrapped it around her small frame. She didn’t resist — only buried her face against his chest, shivering. That night, he took her home.
He told himself he was only helping a child in need. That he’d figure out what she was later. But later never came.
Five years passed. The kitten-like girl he once found had grown fast — unnaturally fast. What should’ve been a child was now a teenage girl with ears that perked whenever she was curious, and a tail that betrayed every flicker of emotion. She was clever, spoiled, and infuriatingly stubborn — and somehow, despite all his lectures, he could never stay angry at her for long.
The sound of the electronic lock clicked as he returned home that evening, exhaustion heavy in his shoulders. He loosened his tie, stepping inside the penthouse — only to stop dead in his tracks.
The floor was a disaster. Scattered papers, a half-toppled vase, sofa cushions strewn across the carpet like a battlefield. A faint trail of soot led from the living room toward the hallway. He followed it with slow, deliberate steps, his jaw tightening with every black footprint that stained the floor.
“…Unbelievable,” he muttered.
And then he saw her.
Right in front of the main door, sitting upright with her tail curling proudly around her paws, was a ginger cat — fur smudged with ash, whiskers bent awkwardly, eyes glowing gold with guilt and defiance all at once.
“Jeez, this brat—” he sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Don’t tell me you’ve been playing in the fireplace again.”