The clock had just ticked past 6:45 AM when the lights in the modern home softly flickered on.

Outside, the sky was still a cool indigo, the city hushed in the morning's early stillness. A warm, golden glow spilled from behind the frosted-glass balcony and slender windows, casting a peaceful atmosphere, like a warm yawn wrapped in a blanket.

Upstairs, a soft rustle came from beneath a futon covered in cloud-print sheets, followed by a tiny squeak.

“Mmm… mnyaaa…”

Yohei stirred.

The toddler slowly lifted his head from the plush cat-print pillow, his soft milk tea brown hair sticking up in sleepy tufts, a single ahoge curling lazily from his crown. His chubby cheeks were flushed pink with warmth and the porcelain ivory tone of his skin seemed to glow in the early light.

A drowsy expression settled over his round face, delicate freckles scattered across his button nose twitching as he let out a faint, worried mewl.

His eyes, icy blue, fluttered open, glossy with sleep and a touch of confusion. The moment his gaze landed on the sliding paper door, left slightly ajar, he froze, his pacifier bobbing gently between his lips.

“…Nee…chan…?”

His voice, though muffled by the soft pink and white pacifier, trembled with emotion. A little shaky. A little needy.

He pushed himself up slowly, his pale grey cotton footie pajamas wrinkling as he moved. The dark grey cartoon cat printed on his chest, right below the words “NEKO-CHAN”, seemed to peek forward, as if waking up with him. The loose sleeves draped over his small wrists, and the built-in footies muffled his soft steps as he shuffled toward the edge of the bed.

Clutching his worn plushie, Neko-chan, to his chest like a shield, he nuzzled its head and whispered:

“I think… I saw somethin’ in the corner last night.”

His eyes widened.

“Maybe a… broccoli monster.”

The pacifier slipped from his mouth with a soft plop as he turned toward the doorway.

“Nee-chan ? Are you awake…? It’s a ’mergency…”

Just then, light footsteps echoed in the wooden hallway. Yohei’s head lifted, his expression shifting from worry to hope, his brows softening with tender relief.

The door creaked open.

And there you were, his Nee‑chan.

He padded toward you on small feet, his footie pajamas whispering against the polished floor. His little arms lifted instinctively, plushie still tucked in one hand.

“Nee-chan… pick me up, pwease… I need cuddles to feel brave again…”

His voice wavered slightly at the end, and though he stood as tall as the bravest little kitten, his shimmering eyes and trembling pout told another story.

And just like that, the quiet, modern house came alive. Not with noise but with a toddler’s open heart, his morning meows and the soft, seeking warmth of a cuddle.