Side Story 5) That Cat. Drift.
“Ugh—.”
Simon lets out a low groan. The moment his gaze snaps back and meets my eyes, I bolt without hesitation. I sprint about three meters before glancing back—there he is, rubbing the ankle I bit, glaring daggers at me. I widen my eyes and tilt my head innocently, deliberately teasing him.
But after glaring at me for a moment, the guy suddenly turns his body away again and starts walking off, thud, thud.
What was that?
Annoyed by the boring reaction, I smack the floor with my tail, tap tap.
Watching Simon’s back grow farther away, a fresh wave of mischief bubbles up inside me. No—this isn’t mischief. The truth is, after not seeing the guy for days, I’m just overflowing with happiness. Isn’t that how manly friendship works? When you reunite with a friend you haven’t seen in ages, you don’t hug them—you smack them around a bit and shout “Hey, long time no see!” That’s true manly friendship.
Nodding to myself in agreement, I cautiously approach him. I sneak closer, carefully observing the steady rhythm of his steps, then suddenly lunge forward and chomp down hard on his ankle.
“…Hey.”
Simon comes to an abrupt stop and looks down at me. The instant our eyes meet, I scamper backward in a flash and peek back at him. And I’m satisfied. Finally, Simon has started snorting hot breaths through his nose.
I puff out my own breath, then let out a long, coquettish cry toward the visibly agitated guy. “Nyaaahhh—” Then I flash him a crooked, smug grin. I stick my tongue out at him and take off running like a maniac.
Catch me if you can~ kekekekeke.
I’m running full tilt when I sneak a glance behind me—holy hell.
A King Kong is charging after me, snorting steam like a madman.
What is he? Scary.
At this point, jokes and teasing are out the window. I feel my tail fur bristle straight up and start sprinting for my life.
“Hey! Stop right there!”
The King Kong roars from behind. I answer with a defiant “Meow!”—a clear statement of refusal.
I run at full speed and glance back again. The distance has shrunk even more. The sight of that massive body, the hot breath snorting out, the huge feet pounding the floor—it sends chills through my whole body. If I get stepped on, I’m dead.
Nyaaah—
Don’t follow me, you lunatic.
No matter how desperately I run, the distance keeps closing. I spot a sharp corner up ahead and decide that’s where I’ll shake Simon off. I’m smaller and more flexible. I’ll pull off a gorgeous, high-difficulty drift there and widen the gap in one go. I pour everything I have into one final burst toward the rapidly approaching corner.
“Hey! I said stop! Stop! Nabi—!”
Simon shouts desperately from behind. I’d love to ask if he’d stop in my place, but sadly, now’s not the time for conversation. The moment I reach the corner, I tilt my center of gravity to one side and slide beautifully.
Shiiiiik—
My angled body skims across the smooth marble floor at Mach speed. The overwhelming sensation of speed sends my facial fur and whiskers whipping wildly in the air. Just as I think I’ve more or less cleared the corner, I push off with my paws and spring forward—
Bam!!
“Nabi!!!”
Bam!!
With a heavy impact, a small black body rebounds off the marble wall. Simon nearly collapses as he drops to the floor, rushing to inspect the limp cat sprawled there.
“Nabi! Nabi! K!”
He shouts loudly, but there’s no response. Unable to touch the small body carelessly, Simon yells for the palace physician to be summoned immediately.
“Nabi! Nabi!”
After confirming that attendants are running off to fetch the physician, Simon keeps calling the cat’s name, blaming himself over and over.
He never should’ve played along with the boy’s prank. This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t tried to indulge him. If only he’d managed to grab the boy when he was sliding across the marble floor at full speed around the corner…
Compared to an ordinary cat, this one is clumsy. There’s no way he could suddenly stop or dash forward after sliding across such a slick marble floor. As always, the boy clearly overestimated his own athletic ability. He probably never imagined he wouldn’t be able to stop and would slam straight into the wall.
Simon doesn’t dare touch the cat, far too small compared to himself. He bends down and listens closely. Faint breathing—definitely there. After checking his breathing and heartbeat for a moment, Simon lets out a deep sigh of relief. He’s alive. Thank the gods. If anything had happened to the boy… something truly horrific would’ve followed.
“Thank goodness. Thank goodness…”
Simon offers a silent prayer of gratitude to the gods.
He has no idea how the Crown Prince’s fury might come crashing down after this, but right now, none of that matters. All that matters is that the boy is safe.
***
“It’s a fracture.”
I shoot the palace physician a murderous glare at those firm words.
A fracture?! A fracture?! Who?! Me?!
I let out a small, irritated “Hahk—!” but the physician stands his ground, clearly determined not to remove the cast. I glare at the cast that’s turned my right front leg into a mummy’s arm and hiss in irritation.
“Shhh….”
My patron gently strokes my head, soothing me softly. I look up at him and cry out in a pitiful voice.
Nyaaahhh— nyaaahhh—
But it seems my patron has no intention of removing the cast—he only keeps comforting me. With a gesture, he dismisses the physician. I immediately lash out at the physician as he leaves the bedroom, letting out a furious “Kyaaak!”
My front leg is broken.
I passed out, and when I came to, my front leg had already been turned into a mummy’s arm. There is no justice in this world. Performing such a horrific act without even getting the patient’s consent—completely unacceptable. But no matter how much I snapped at my patron or gnawed furiously at the cast, it was useless. All he did was quietly call the physician back in to check on my condition. In the end, I became the idiot cat who drifted in the hallway and broke his front leg.
When I smack the bed repeatedly with my tail, my patron scolds gently, “Shh, if you keep moving, it’ll hurt.” It’s my front leg that’s broken, not my tail—what a worrier.
Nyaaahhh—
Fine, then at least undo this thing?
I’ll say it again: my patron doesn’t budge an inch. You rotten lunatic.
I’m so mortified I can’t even live with myself. All the dignity and image I’ve built up since entering the Imperial Palace has been obliterated in one blow. Elegant, aloof, refined in fashion—that’s me. A chic, cold city cat—that’s me. And I broke my front leg failing a drift. Is there anything more humiliating than this?
Too tired even to flick my tail, I just lie there blinking slowly. Judging by the heat radiating from my front leg, it’s definitely broken. It hurts a little, too. This is all because the marble floor was too damn smooth. I swear my drift was flawless. The floor was the problem.
As I grumble internally, my patron gently takes my casted paw and presses his lips softly against it. I brush my tail across his cheek in return. Thinking about it, he must’ve been really shocked too. Seeing me suddenly slam into the wall and break my leg—of course he’d be startled. Even knowing it was just a prank, he didn’t tease me at all… just like my patron should be—kind-hearted to the core.
“I guess we should refrain from turning you back into a human for a while.”
My patron says regretfully. When I tilt my head, he chuckles and taps my cast lightly with his finger. Only then do I understand—and snort.
What, should I just transform back into a human and shatter this stupid cast to pieces? When I get my human arms back, I could crush something like this into dust. …Well. I probably shouldn’t risk breaking it again, so I’ll hold back.
“Go to sleep.”
