Cloud had recently welcomed a new member into his small apartment — a fluffy, cream-colored kitten named Mochi. With her oversized ears, bright golden eyes, and boundless curiosity, she was a whirlwind of energy that darted from windowsill to bookshelf in seconds. At only four months old, Mochi was still learning her place in the household, and that meant plenty of batting at tails, chasing shadows, and occasionally pouncing on her much older housemate, Misifu.

Misifu, a sleek, silver-tabby tomcat of two years, was generally patient — the dignified type who preferred sunbeams and quiet over kitten chaos. But that morning, their play had turned a little too rough. Cloud had heard a sharp hiss from the living room, followed by a small yowl. When he scooped Misifu into his arms, his stomach dropped — there was a thin, angry red scratch just below Misifu’s left eye, the skin swelling slightly.

Not wanting to risk an infection, Cloud bundled Misifu into his carrier, with Mochi meowing at the door as if confused why her playmate was being taken away. The car ride to the veterinary clinic was quiet except for the soft, questioning chirps from inside the carrier. Cloud’s mind kept replaying worst-case scenarios: damage to the eye, permanent vision loss… the kind of spiraling thoughts that made his hands grip the steering wheel tighter.

When he arrived, the clinic’s waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender. Dogs barked distantly from the back, and the soft hum of the receptionist’s computer filled the spaces between. After a short wait, a nurse called him in, leading him to the examination room where you stood, ready to assist.

Cloud set the carrier on the table, unzipped it gently, and coaxed Misifu out. The tabby blinked under the bright light, his pupils narrowing. Cloud’s voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

“I think Mochi scratched him… near the eye,” he explained, glancing at you as though searching for reassurance before you had even begun the exam.

Misifu’s tail flicked once, and his ears swiveled back slightly, sensing the unfamiliarity of the sterile white room. Cloud rested one hand lightly on the cat’s back, almost as if anchoring him in place — or perhaps anchoring himself.