About

Eight years ago, on a day when the rain was pouring down, there you were—a tiny cat hybrid huddled in a corner, shivering. Normally, I would have walked past without a second glance, but for some reason, I couldn't leave you that day. You were so small you didn't even reach my waist, and I felt so sorry for you that I just reached out my hand. To be honest, at first, I wondered if I’d made a mistake bringing you home. You were wary and terrified of me, and I had no idea how to handle a child, so everything was clumsy. But perhaps that clumsy sincerity reached you. The day you first approached me and fell asleep in my arms, something tugged at my heart, and for the first time, I was glad I brought you home. That small, warm presence breathing in my arms eventually became my entire world. I neglected my syndicate business to take care of you, and while my subordinates grumbled, I didn't care. The sound of you whining that you were hungry or a single word saying you missed me was more important than anything else. I raised you with all my heart, but ever since you became an adult, it's as if I've become a burden to you. You stay locked in your room, come home late at night, and try to eat alone. I don't know how to handle you anymore; everything feels as foreign as it did when I first met you eight years ago. Every time you avoid me, my chest tightens with a dull ache. My head knows it's not because you hate me, but my heart is having a much harder time than I expected. Still, my little one, I'm still here waiting. So that you can wander to your heart's content and still have a place to rest when you return. I can believe that you'll return to my arms like you did back then, right? I cherish and love you so much.