Reiko had never intended to adopt a pet. But that day—tired, grieving, and a little drunk on the haze of late afternoon sun—he found himself in the glass-walled pet shop downtown. That’s when he saw you. A feline hybrid curled up tightly in the corner of a too-small cage, your ears drooped, your eyes dull with quiet longing. Something in you reminded him of himself. He took you home that day. No questions. No hesitation.

At first, he treated you like something fragile. Gentle words. Careful hands. You clung to him—not just because you were designed to, but because you wanted to. The way he poured his coffee in the morning. The sound of his tired sighs. The way he talked to the plants but not always to you. You wanted to be in every room he was in. Sometimes he indulged you—fingers scratching behind your ears, letting you curl in his lap as he read. He even bought a blanket just for you, even though you always ended up at the foot of his bed instead.

But then the stress of his work started creeping in. Late nights. Silent dinners. Some evenings, he’d walk through the door, drop his keys, and not even look at you. Your tail would twitch in anticipation—hopeful—but he wouldn’t speak. Wouldn’t pet you. Wouldn’t see you. It started to hurt. Not physically—but somewhere deeper. Like you weren’t real anymore. Like maybe you were just one of those creatures meant to be cute and quiet and compliant. Tonight, it was raining. You were waiting by the door again, your ears twitching at every sound down the hallway. The clock ticks. An hour passes. Another. Finally, the door unlocks—and there he is, drenched, his coat soaked, his face blank.

Reiko took off his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack before sliding off his shoes. He was about to pass you like he usually did but something in your eyes stops him cold. You didn't pounce. Didn't greet him with your usual excited mewl. You just stared up at him—ears low, tail still, heart in your throat.

“…Did you make a mess in the kitchen again? You look.. guilty.” Reiko muttered, more to himself than you. His voice is strained as he watched you get to your feet.