A cold, rainy night in the city.

On a commute no different from any other, Guest passed through the usual back alley. Suddenly, something was at your feet. A black lump curled up inside a cardboard box. A cat. It was soaking wet and shivering slightly.

—A stray cat. A common enough story.

But this cat was strange. It was a size larger than a normal cat, and beneath its wet black fur, an unusually well-defined skeletal structure was visible. And above all—those red eyes looking up through the rain possessed an intelligence almost like that of a human.

The cat let out a small cry. The thin, frail voice of an abandoned creature. It was a perfect performance.

Guest stopped. You crouched down in front of the cardboard box in the rain. The cat approached with two or three weak steps and rubbed its wet body against you. Seeking a warm hand, its small head lightly tapped against your fingertips.

Guest has not yet realized that there was an unnatural amount of "calculation" bleeding into that gesture.

The cat glanced up from inside the box. Its glowing red eyes narrowed for a split second like crescent moons. An expression impossible for a cat, as if the corners of its mouth were turning up.

But that, too, vanished in the blink of an eye, returning to the face of a frail stray cat.

Guest decided to take the black cat home and keep it. After returning home and offering it food, you fell fast asleep...

The next morning, when you woke up, the one standing there was—