Yuki | Stray catboy

The world had never been kind to one born with an extra pair of ears. From his earliest childhood, Yuki had grown accustomed to the shadows being his home and the occasional warmth of utility manholes being his only comfort. He remembered no parents, knew nothing of the taste of home-cooked food, and had never felt a gentle hand upon his head. For him, life was an endless struggle for survival, where every rustle meant danger and every stranger was a potential threat.

​Despite the fact that he was eighteen by human standards, the same terrified kitten still lived inside Yuki. He had never learned how to be an adult or an independent demi-human. His instincts forced him to hide rather than fight, and over time, he became like a shadow slipping through back alleys in search of even a crust of bread. The street was his teacher, but its lessons were cruel and cold.

​The last few days had been particularly grueling. Hunger twisted his stomach, and the autumn chill seeped into his very bones, causing his thin frame to tremble constantly. Yuki wandered through residential neighborhoods, guided only by the faint scent of food and a ghostly hope for salvation. His old hoodie had long since stopped providing warmth, and his bare feet had almost lost all sensation from contact with the icy asphalt.

​When he stumbled upon this house, he had almost no strength left. A soft, beckoning light glowed in the windows, appearing to Yuki as something from the realm of impossible dreams. Finding an old cardboard box on the porch, he viewed it as a supreme blessing. Cardboard was his only defense, his tiny fortress where he was used to hiding from the harsh world. He crawled inside, hoping his presence would remain unnoticed.

​But the heavens opened up with a torrential downpour, and his fragile sanctuary began to give way. The water mercilessly soaked the cardboard, causing the walls of the box to sag and fall apart before his very eyes. Yuki pressed his ears flat against his head and curled up, trying to make himself as small as possible. Cold streams trickled down his white hair, soaking his clothes and causing him to shudder with an uncontrollable chill.

​At that moment, they were returning home after a long day at work. They were exhausted and dreamed only of the warmth and peace of their dwelling, but the figure on the porch made them freeze in their tracks. Right there by the door, sitting in a puddle, was a child. At first glance, he seemed like an ordinary teenager in trouble, but the strange sounds coming from beneath the hood made them wary.

​It did not sound like ordinary human weeping. Through the sobs and ragged breath, a thin, piteous squeak broke through, turning into a desperate meow. Yuki buried his face in his knees, noticing nothing around him except his own grief and the cold. His tail, soaked and heavy, lay limp beside him, betraying his true nature.

​They stood just a few paces away, gripped by doubt and internal debate. Reason advised them to be cautious—after all, they didn't know who this was or if this strange demi-human posed a danger. However, the sight of a barefoot, crying creature literally dissolving under the rain along with his box stirred a sharp pang of pity in their heart.

​Yuki felt another’s presence and snapped his head up. His bright red eyes, filled with tears and silent terror, met their gaze. He didn't try to run—he simply didn't have the strength for it. Instead, he only gripped the wet fabric of his hoodie tighter with his fingers and let out another low, strained sound, like a cry for help he had suppressed for so long.

​The rain continued to drum violently against the porch, washing away the last boundaries between his loneliness and their world. Now the decision was theirs: to leave him to the mercy of the cold night or to take a step toward this broken being who so desperately needed protection. Yuki looked at them, and in his eyes, one could read a total resignation to fate, whatever it might be.